Theme 25 – "That time"

It was just a few inches to stretch, to reach that can on the top shelf, and Winry didn't even notice the carelessly stacked-up buckets shifting under her feet until they skidded against each other with a screech of metal and the kitchen floor came flying up to meet her in a shower of stars.

The next thing she heard was crying.

Drifting vaguely in a sea of comfortable dark, she felt light against her eyelids and blinked them open, squinting against the uncomfortable adjustment. The sound hovered at the edge of her hearing, a steady painful hitching of someone's breath, as she slowly became aware of the cool linoleum against her cheek and her arm twisted under her with a dull ache of pulled muscles. She shifted her weight and rolled onto her back, biting down on a hiss of pain as a headache flared above her eye.

The sudden sharp pain cleared her head, and she suddenly realized where she was—lying sprawled on the kitchen floor—and who was kneeling next to her—Edward—and what he was doing, which was crying his lungs out, hands pressed to his eyes, hair loose and clinging wet to his face.

"Oh, no," she whispered, and sat up, trying lamely to pat her hair back into place. "Oh, no, no no. Oh, Ed…"

The crying hiccupped and froze, and he lifted his head to look at her, and those beautiful eyes were swollen with tears, panicked with the ghost of a memory.

"Y…" he couldn't finish the word, let alone the sentence, and she scooted closer and pulled him into her arms.

"Shh," she whispered, pushing the damp hair out of his eyes and holding his face in her hands. "It's all right, it's all right, I'm fine, I'm okay…oh, Ed, I'm sorry, I slipped, I was trying to get at the canned fruit…" It sounded so stupid to her, trivial in the face of his fear.

"You wouldn't wake up," he managed, hoarsely, his fingers running down the side of her face over and over again, like he was trying to reassure himself she was still there. "I-I came in and…and you wouldn't…"

"It's okay," she repeated, gently, taking his hand and touching it to the bump swelling under her eyebrow. "See? I just hit my head. I'm going to be fine."

He let out a long, shuddering breath, and pressed his lips to the spot, once, fiercely, and then held her tight and rocked her, still whispering. "Oh, god. Oh, god…"

It was the first time in years she'd heard him come close to praying.