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“Hey, Win,” hissed Paninya, who was lying in the bed beside Winry’s.
“What,” whispered Winry, wary of the six other girls in the dorm, at least one of whom would be asleep by now.
“I can hear your boy on the gutter pipe.”
Winry fell silent and strained her ears – Paninya had much better hearing – perhaps hearing that bordered on the supernatural. It was good. She was great at standing guard to look out for teachers and wardens. Winry would have been expelled at least three and a half times if Paninya didn’t have such good hearing.
Of course, it was usually Paninya’s fault that Winry got into these situations in the first place. Not that Winry was bitter that her peaceful, school-going equilibrium had been disturbed or anything.
“Alright,” whispered Winry. “Thanks, Pan.”
She teased the covers off her and tiptoed over to the window. Sure enough, there was Ed, halfway up the gutter pipe. He was getting rather quick at climbing it. She had once asked where he’d learned to climb like that, but he had grinned and opened his mouth, and she quickly decided she had no interest in finding out.
The first time he’d climbed it, Winry had been fast asleep. Apparently, he had thrown several stones at the window before deciding that climbing the gutter pipe to the third-storey dormitory was a more promising idea. Maisie, who slept on the other side of Paninya, corroborated his story. That time, he had – if Winry’s memory was correct – fallen off the pipe twice.
(Winry was quite certain that her memory was correct, because she had fixed his automail when he had finally managed to plop down onto her floor.)
It so followed that as Winry thought about how he’d improved at climbing the gutter pipe (he was now three-quarters of the way up), the whole thing came off the wall with him still clinging to it. Years later, it would be a point of contention between the two that Winry didn’t notice anything until the pipe hit the gravel with a sound halfway between a ‘clunk’ and a ‘thud’ and Ed released a pained-sounding “Fuck”.
Sure enough, Winry looked down, and there – on the gravel – was 120 pounds of Edward Elric, fresh from Central Boarding Academy for Girls’ sibling school. She gasped leaned out of the window, though Ed was too busy cursing at the pipe to notice her. She glanced around.
“Pan,” she hissed. “Pan, this isn’t a drill.”
Paninya sat up in bed. “What is it. Did his arm come off?”
“No!” said Winry. “I made that arm!” She took a deep breath to compose herself. “The pipe came off the wall.”
“Shit,” remarked Paninya. “How far up was he?”
“About three-quarters,” said Winry.
“Shit,” remarked Paninya.
Winry rubbed at her temples. “Stop cursing and help me think – I need to check if he’s okay.”
Paninya nodded. “I vote we get the school nurse.”
“Are you nuts?” cried Winry in an odd, whispered exclamation. “He’s a boy and he was climbing up to our room!”
“It’s not unsavoury though,” pointed out Paninya. “You usually just sit and play cards. Besides, we covered it up the time we made a blanket fort and I broke my arm trying to pull the bed from the alcove.”
“You had fallen in hockey that day!” said Winry.
Paninya cocked her head to the side. “Sure, but I’m just saying we could figure something out.”
“What,” snorted Winry, “I go to the nurse and say ‘hey, I slipped in lacrosse earlier, and now the gutter pipe has come off the wall, and a boy just happened to be climbing it – do you think they’re related, matron? Do you have an ointment for that or will we cart me off back home and expel me for having illicit trysts with a boy from Central Boys’ Boarding!’”
Paninya made a little offended noise. “There’s no need to get snippy,” she said. “I’m only trying to help.”
“I know,” sighed Winry. In a moment of pause, the answer came to her. “I’m going to climb down the wall.”
“There’s no gutter pipe!” hissed Paninya.
“No,” agreed Winry, “but I do have a length of rope I could lever myself down on.”
Maisie rolled over in bed and made a sleepy noise of disapproval. “You’ve been making him climb the gutter pipe when you have lengths of rope?” she said blearily. “That’s terrible.”
Winry sighed and pulled open the drawer in her bedside table. Three lengths of rope. “Pan,” she whispered, “where’s your flashlight.”
“Why?”
“I need to know if there’s a nail I can throw this across.”
“The gutter pipe came off,” said Paninya, “and you’re hoping a nail will support your weight on a rope.”
Winry glared.
“Okay,” said Paninya. “Fine.”
Sure enough, there was a nail in the wall. And that was how Winry found herself abseiling down the west-side of Central Boarding Academy for Girls to reach her boyfriend, who was on his back like a stag beetle. He was also flailing a little bit, like a stag beetle.
As Winry’s feet crunched on the gravel, Ed turned his head to look at her. “The gutter pipe came off the wall,” he said.
“I know,” said Winry, and hoped her voice was soothing.
“No,” said Ed. “The gutter pipe came off the wall, and you decided it was a capital idea to paraglide down the wall with a nail and a rope supporting your weight.”
“If I wasn’t worried you had spinal injuries,” said Winry, “I would make you get up and go home for that comment. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“I guess,” said Ed, staring into one of the stars. “Mustang is going to kill me.”
“Sure,” said Winry. “Where’s your pain.”
Ed frowned as though he was trying to scan where it was worst. “My shoulder blade,” he said, “and my hip.” There was a long pause. “I think it’s my hip,” he said. “It could also be a kidney.”
Winry blinked a few times, trying to assess the damages. “Well, medical practise says we assume it’s as bad as possible until proven otherwise, so I’m calling an ambulance.”
“No,” said Ed. “If you call an ambulance, we both get expelled, and neither of us gets our scholarship.” He paused and stared her grimly in the eye like some martyred fantasy hero after a few too many drinks. “You’re going to have to carry me.”
And it so befell that Winry Rockbell, aged 16, carried her boyfriend two miles to the closest hospital without stopping. Later, she would say it was adrenaline that got her there. Paninya said it was years of hoisting around heavy hunks of metal. They were probably both right, in retrospect.
“Help!” cried Winry, bursting through the Emergency Department’s double doors.
A team of nurses came upon them like a swarm, depositing Ed onto a trolley and steaming down to resus with him. Winry followed hot on their heels.
“He fell off a gutter pipe,” she said.
One of the nurses smiled knowingly. “Another one of his silly exploits,” she said. “It’s me, Ed,” she said. “We’ll call school for you.” She turned to Winry. “Who do we need to call for you, dear?”
Winry cast her eyes to the ground and swallowed. “Central Boarding Academy for Girls,” she said, a little ashamed at how hoarse her voice sounded.
“Alright,” said the nurse. “Catherine, would you please tell Sheska that we have another pair of school-crossed lovers?”
And so, half an hour later, Mr Mustang and Ms Hawkeye burst into Ed’s cubicle looking exasperated and furious, respectively.
“Thanks, Gracia,” Mr Mustang said to the nurse.
“No worries,” said Gracia, and began to gather herself to leave. She caught Mr Mustang as she went. “Go easy on them, okay?”
Mr Mustang turned to Ed. “A broken scapula and a bruised kidney,” he said, unimpressed. “Well done.”
Ed glared from his bed. “This isn’t exactly how I planned on spending my evening,” he said.
Mr Mustang snorted. “I imagine not,” he said, glancing at Winry, who blushed and shuffled from foot to foot.
“Miss Rockbell,” said Ms Hawkeye. “I expect this kind of behaviour from Paninya, but not from you.” She paused. “If she’s such a bad influence, I might have to move you to the dorm across the corridor.”
Winry’s thoughts stopped in their tracks. She did not want to move across the corridor to room with a group of vapid airheads, one of whom Winry had heard say that she didn’t want to vote when she was older because she couldn’t possibly imagine who was and was not a suitable candidate.
“However,” said Ms Hawkeye. “It seems that half a mile of walking and a good 15 metre climb can’t keep you from seeing who you want, so I can’t imagine it would be very effective.” She straightened up. “Instead, you’ll both be on community service for the next two months, around which you’ll be expected to complete all homework assignments.”
“Mustang,” said Ed. “I have a broken scapula and a bruised kidney – I can’t pick up trash off the sidewalk.”
“No,” agreed Mr Mustang. “You’ll talk to elderly men and women who have no family to help them out.”
“What about me?” said Winry.
“You’ll be doing the same,” said Ms Hawkeye. “Once Ed gets out of hospital, you’ll be on the same shifts.”
“Right,” said Ed slowly.
“Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” Oddly in sync, Mr Mustang and Ms Hawkeye pulled their coats on.
“I’ll be waiting for you out here,” said Ms Hawkeye, gesturing to the space just outside the cubicle.
“Yes, Ms Hawkeye,” said Winry.
And then Ed and Winry finally had a moment alone.
Ed blinked up at Winry. “I don’t think I’m up for Pinochle tonight,” he said.
“I don’t think we have time,” laughed Winry. “Listen – I’ll see you tomorrow morning, but I don’t think I’ll get off so easily if I don’t leave right now.” She paused and kissed his forehead.
“Feel better, dork,” she said, and let Ms Hawkeye escort her back to the dormitory.