#we had MASSIVE rain here today and some lovely lightning & thunder . so this was basically my just switch night to say and bed to couch | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

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June Contest Submission #22: Left in the Dark

Words: ca. 4,000 Setting: Modern AU, Airport Lemon: No CW: None

A flash of lightning brightens the whole sky once more. Four seconds later, the low rumbling of thunder pierces the pattering sounds of rain hitting the large windows of the airport. The glass is working especially hard today to keep the raging storm at bay, and it doubles as the only source of light in this massive blackout.

Elsa presses her palm against the cold glass. All around her, people are expressing their fear over how long this blackout will last, calling loved ones to tell them their flights have been delayed, or are meeting this darkness with great indifference. She envies all these people, wishing she could feel something that isn’t gut-wrenching guilt.

When she pulls her hand away from the glass, her imprint from the condensation trickles and fades moments later. The last update they received before the power went out was that the weather conditions would be keeping all planes grounded for at least four hours. If people chose to catch a flight tomorrow instead, they’d be reimbursed for the inconvenience.

A lot of people chose that option, but Elsa decided to wait. She didn’t want to spend any more time in Denver than she needed to.

An hour later, when the power went out, everyone including Elsa who decided to stick around began wondering if they made the right choice. She jumps as she feels the phone in her back pocket vibrate. Hesitantly, she pulls it out and is relieved to see that it’s just a message from her mother, telling Elsa to be safe no matter what she chooses to do.

It’s not like she’s stranded in unknown territory, she still has a couple of friends from college in the city who might let her stay over for a night. And if that fails, she has enough money for an Uber ride and a hotel room. But the stormy skies aren’t the only dark clouds in Denver that she wants to leave behind, so it looks like she’s staying.

Air traffic workers outside are desperately setting up flares and other alternate sources of light on the airfield, and no doubt the airport’s technicians are working to get at least the backup power working. They won’t stay in darkness for too long, she hopes, even if it feels somewhat calming at this moment. But what else can she do to pass the time for the next few hours? Text her friends and hope they’re up for a three-hour conversation? Edit her resume? Take a nap while snuggling her backpack and duffle bag to keep anything from being stolen?

“Wow,” she says, speaking her first word since yesterday. “My life really is just one big pile of nothing, huh?”

Her existential crisis is interrupted by the gentle plucking of guitar strings that cuts through the torrential silence. It’s familiarity compels Elsa to grab her things and find the source of the melody, and though her hearing is heightened by the darkness, she uses her phone’s flashlight to guide her way so she doesn’t step on anyone. The guitar strings guide her along and bring her closer before they’re accompanied by another sound: a sweet, gentle voice comfortably singing the lyrics to the song.

Ooh thinkin about all our younger years There was only you and me We were young and wild and free

The girl singing it sounds far too young for the lyrics to pertain to her, and yet her alto voice still carries a reminiscent feel to what she’s saying. Elsa follows the secret siren up to the aisle she thinks she’s sitting in, just as the girl reaches the chorus. Though she keeps her voice down to a near whisper, Elsa can’t help but sing along as well.

Baby you’re all that I want when you’re lying here in my arms I’m finding it hard to believe we’re in Heaven

However, the music stops before the chorus ends and Elsa is left singing the last three words by herself. She purses her lips, mortified, taking a step back just in case she’s told to get lost.

“Why’d you stop singing? Your voice is really pretty.”

Now, Elsa’s even more embarrassed. She has enough common sense to realize the voice asking that question is the same voice that brought her here, but not enough to keep from shining her phone’s flashlight on her. Fortunately, the light only gets up to the girl’s chest before Elsa yelps and turns it off. Which isn't that much better, but she’ll take any victory she can get right now.

“Sorry, I didn’t think you heard me,” Elsa replies.

The girl chuckles, “Was I not supposed to hear you?”

“No, I mean I don’t know, I-I…” Elsa sighs, “I was embarrassed, I guess.”

“Well how about you stop being embarrassed and sit down?” It’s such a gentle command that Elsa doesn’t realize she could have said no until she’s used her phone’s flashlight to find an open seat right next to the mystery guitar girl. “So are you a big Bryan Adams fan or do you just know that one song?”

Darkness paints the corner they’re in and keeps Elsa from getting a good sense of who she’s talking to. It makes for one of the most interesting conversations she’s ever had. “Oh, I only know a couple of his songs, but I wouldn’t say I’m like a huge fan. A-are you?”

“Not really, but I’m a sucker for those classic love ballads, you know?”

Elsa nods before realizing she’s not going to see that. “Yeah, I know.”

She hears the woman adjust in her chair and the guitar strings squeak as she runs her fingers along the frets. “Alright, let’s see if you know this one.”

Before Elsa can ask what she’s doing, there’s a gentle yet deliberate strumming of the guitar strings unlike the soft fingerpicking from before. And once again, the woman begins to sing a song that Elsa’s quick to recognize.

And I’d give up forever to touch you Cause I know that you feel me somehow You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be and I don’t want to go home right now

“I know this song too,” Elsa interjects with more excitement in her voice than she’s expecting. “It’s by the Goo Goo Dolls, right?”

The woman stops her singing, much to Elsa’s unexpected disappointment. “That’s right, Iris.”

“A-actually my name’s Elsa.”

“What?”

“Hmm?” Elsa cringes, realizing her mistake. “Oh gosh, you weren’t calling me…you were saying the name…of the song.”

She prepares herself for the laughter, but it never comes. “Elsa, huh? That’s a really pretty name, I like it.”

“You do? I- wow, that’s…I mean, thank you. For that.” This is so strange, she’s usually much better at talking than this, she has a degree in it for goodness sakes. But there’s something that’s keeping her tongue-tied and ruining her common sense. Maybe this woman really is a siren. “I’m from Rhode Island.”

“Elsa from Rhode Island,” the woman says like she’s trying to make sense of those words in that order. “Well you’ve got a very pretty voice, Elsa. My name is Anna. From Arizona.”

Anna. The name fits, even though Elsa doesn’t actually know anything about her, not even what she looks like. “Nice to meet you, Anna from Arizona.” Though they’re in the dark, Elsa can feel that Anna’s smiling at her. Maybe because Elsa’s smiling too.

“Alright, you’ve established your knowledge of the oldies…” Anna begins to strum a soft, basic chord progression. “Let’s see if you know something a little more modern.”

Elsa’s not a music expert in the slightest but she still listens intently, if only to hear more of Anna’s beautiful voice. When she begins to sing, they’re lyrics that Elsa doesn’t recognize.

I hear the beast, its awful cry, but never see its face I feel the water coming down, it’s keeping me in place And in this stormy weather, though I should be so afraid I’m with the one who makes it fade away

Anna continues to sing, and Elsa is torn because she doesn’t know what this song is but she feels like she should. The voice accompanying the words make them sound much more beautiful and earnest, but the song is unrecognizable. When Anna begins to hum instead of sing, Elsa admits defeat. “I-I think you win, I’m not sure what this song is.”

“I knew you wouldn’t,” Anna says, abruptly ending the song. “Because it’s one of mine.”

Elsa gasps, “Not fair.”

She can sense the victorious grin on Anna’s face. “Hey, it’s a modern song. I started writing it today actually, well okay maybe writing isn’t the best word for it.”

“You wrote that today?” Elsa asks. “Have you written any other songs?”

“Yeah I’ve written a few, some of them are actually pretty good too, I think: Whenever I’ve got something in my head, I pick up my guitar and record my thoughts. I’m not trying to be the next Taylor Swift or something, but it…yeah it helps.”

A flash of lightning paints the windows and illuminates Anna’s silhouette for a moment, not long enough or bright enough to see any details other than the shape of her hair. It surprises Elsa when she realizes just how much she wants to see what Anna looks like. A minute ago, she didn’t even know this woman existed and now she finds herself considering the stupid idea of shining her phone’s flashlight on Anna’s face. Because nothing says “good impression” like blinding someone.

Another realization hits her, though it’s more of an unhelpful observation: Has it really been so long since she’s been attracted to someone that she’s falling for a random woman at the airport with a beautiful voice and nice…manners? Pathetic, she doesn’t actually know anything about Anna other than she writes songs and is from Arizona.

Hoping to at least remedy that, she searches her mind for something to ask. Something casual but informative. But Anna beats her to it.

“So Elsa from Rhode Island, you’re a long way from home, aren’t you?”

Elsa nods out of habit as thunder roars outside the airport walls, “Uh y-yeah, just a little bit yeah. And you’re…not that far from home, Anna from Arizona.”

Anna giggles like Elsa said something funny. “No, well not yet. I’m actually going to New Jersey and figured I’d save some money by taking a couple of connected flights instead of flying straight there. My parents are renewing their vows and of course they want me to be there for the ceremony. Remember that song I was singing? Heaven? That’s actually their song and I’m gonna surprise them by playing it.”

“That’s really sweet,” Elsa replies, relieved that she bit her tongue before making a joke about New Jersey. She hears a tap on hollow wood and the squeak of guitar strings as Anna slides her hand across them. She eagerly anticipates another song, but instead she gets another question.

“What about you? Any vow renewals waiting for you in Rhode Island?”

Elsa giggles, but it’s not as pretty or confident as her companion’s. “Ah no, there’s nothing…waiting for me back home.” Wow, that answer was much more depressing than she wanted it to be. Even if it’s true. “Well I mean there’s my parents. And my apartment. I guess my job counts too but other than that, there’s nothing else.” She feels like she’s making things worse.

“Oh dear.” There’s a heaviness in Anna’s reply, but Elsa doesn’t hear any pity which she’s grateful for. No one should pity her for the life she’s chosen. “So why’d you come to Denver? It’s not exactly a top vacation destination right now. Unless you like rain.”

“I love rain,” Elsa replies far too excitedly, as if rain is like her favorite thing in the world. “But no, I didn’t come here for a vacation. I…I came here…”

“Hey.”

Elsa’s startled by a hand that lands first on her upper arm and then on her shoulder. It’s soft, gentle, and she hopes it belongs to Anna or else this is getting awkward.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with,” Anna continues. But that’s the thing, Elsa feels very comfortable around Anna and she can’t explain why. All she can do is see and now feel her, but there’s something about Anna that makes her feel safe and trusted. Moreso than even her therapist.

Elsa sighs, the heaviness of this weekend’s events once again piling on her, hoping this will help her let it go. “I came here to call off my engagement with my…with my ex-boyfriend.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s- gosh, I’m so sorry that must have been really hard.”

Elsa shakes her head. “Don’t be. You didn’t know.”

“I know, but in my mind I thought you were like running from the law or something.”

“I wouldn’t have told you my real name if that were the case.” And she definitely wouldn’t be out in such a public place for so long, blackout or not.

“Wait so Elsa’s really your name?”

“Yes?”

“Holy shit, that’s pretty. I bet you’re like secretly royalty, aren’t you?”

“Nope, I’m just boring Elsa from boring Rhode Island.”

“Oh please. Boring people don’t get engaged.”

“…”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

“No, it-it’s alright. The breakup doesn’t hurt as much as it should, it was a long time coming and I prepared myself for it. But it just happened, I’d feel bad joking about it so soon.”

Though talking with Anna helps, the darkness still plays with her perception. In her mind, she’s constantly playing back the exact moment she took off the ring and gave it back to Hans. She’s remembering the shock and anguish on her ex-fiancé’s face, like she’d just stabbed him in the gut. She hears on loop his last words of “Elsa, what can I do?”

And though the images are shocking, they don’t sting any more than being pinched on the arm.

“Still doesn’t give me the right to joke about it.” Anna sighs, and takes her hand off Elsa’s shoulder. It had been on there for so long that Elsa almost forgot about it, and now she’s disappointed that it’s gone. “I must seem like such a jerk.”

“No, you’re hilarious,” Elsa says truthfully. “I’m not offended, it’s…I got all the bad feelings out of the way a while ago. I only came to Denver to call things off because it’d seem insensitive to do it over the phone.”

“That��s noble of you.”

Elsa laughs pitifully, “No. I led him on in a long-distance relationship for months while I fell out of love with him. That’s not noble at all.” She feels a tingle along her shoulder, like something’s hovering above it. The feeling goes away a second later.

“You can’t do that to yourself, Elsa. You can’t put the whole burden of the breakup on yourself. I mean, what’s the reason you fell out of love with him in the first place?”

Oh that’s a long story that will take up the rest of the word limit. Elsa thinks about the important details, the ones worth sharing, and a silly, unhelpful thought flashes in her mind like the lightning that strikes once again: What would Anna think if she leaned on her shoulder right now? She shakes that thought away and starts with her pitiful monologue.

“We got engaged about a year ago, it was actually the last thing we did before I graduated from college and moved back to Rhode Island. He still had a year left, and the plan was that we’d get married once he graduated. But it’s like…I don’t know, it felt like I was two different people when I moved back. It’s like there’s ‘Elsa from Rhode Island’ who’s calm, quiet, and likes to draw and sing in the shower, and then there’s ‘Elsa from Denver’ who’s energetic and charming, and is always trying to cheer people up with kind words and stupid memes. And I wanted so badly for both of these Elsas to coexist, but the longer I was away from Denver and Hans, the more I realized how exhausting it was trying to be who I always used to be. And when I tried to be 'Elsa from Rhode Island’, Hans wouldn’t respond to that and think I was angry or something, so I had to flip the switch. It took a while to realize that I didn’t want to keep putting on that mask, and if Hans didn’t like who I really was, then…I couldn’t fix that. I cried and panicked and did all that other stuff when I finally decided to break up with him. So much so that when I finally did it, I had already moved on. Breaking up was just a formality, like signing my name on a piece of paper. Even so, I feel guilty for doing this to him and sometimes I wonder if I just wasn’t trying hard enough to be who I needed to be. It’s stressful to think about, and right now all I know is that…I don’t want to set foot in Denver ever again.”

After a long moment of silence, punctuated by the storm outside fighting to punch through the windows, Anna’s hand makes contact with Elsa again. This time on her wrist.

“Elsa…” she starts softly. “I don’t think he tried hard enough.”

Elsa raises an eyebrow, she’s heard this take from her parents and friends, but it hits a little more when Anna says it.

“I mean you weren’t in a relationship with yourself, right? He had to meet you halfway on stuff like this, especially if you’re going to commit the rest of your lives with each other. If he couldn’t accept who you are now, then what would things look like if you got married?”

“But people change in a relationship,” Elsa argues. “What if I was just scared to change? What if I was too comfortable with what was familiar and I was scared about doing something new?”

“Well, how much can change about yourself before you stop feeling like yourself?”

This is the first time anyone’s ever asked Elsa this question before, and it shuts her up quickly. All the while, Anna continues unfettered.

“I’m not trying to be your therapist, so I’m sorry if I cross the line anywhere. But I feel like…the best relationships are the ones where neither of you have to worry about what you look like to the other person. Like you have nothing to prove because you like yourself, and they make you feel comfortable with that. And I think if you get too caught up on the whole 'changing in a relationship’ thing, it means you’ve already lost sight of why you’re in a relationship in the first place. It’s not always about what you do for each other, but what you can do together. That’s…I mean I think that’s the beautiful part of being with someone you love. That you’re you, and that they’re them, and you’re yourselves doing stupid things like eating a grilled cheese sandwich on the balcony at 3 AM.”

Elsa’s so caught up in Anna’s wisdom that her silly joke catches her completely off-guard and she snorts, “What? Where’d that last part come from?”

Anna huffs, “Look, I really want a grilled cheese right now, okay?”

“Well, uh I think I might owe you one.”

“Really? For what?”

“For telling me what I needed to hear.” Boldness overtakes Elsa and she places her hand on top of Anna’s. Though the thunder roars and whines, Elsa swears she hears a hitching of breath. “You’re quite the love expert, Anna of Arizona.”

“Oh, uh…thank you? I don’t think I’m a love expert at all. I’ve never actually…”

She trails off, Elsa leans forward. “What was that?”

“I said I’ve never been in a relationship before.”

“Oh. Wow.” It sounds like Anna’s genuinely embarrassed by this, so Elsa reassures her. “Well, that sounds ridiculous.” Or at least she tries to.

Anna laughs, but in a way that you laugh when your parents are telling stories about dumb things you used to do as a kid. “You don’t have to do that. It’s my fault, I don’t put myself out there that much and it…I don’t know, I think I might be hard to love.”

Elsa gasps, “That can’t be true. I think anyone would be lucky to love you.”

“You don’t even know me,” Anna says in almost a whisper.

“I know enough. I know that you can sing and write songs. I know that you’re caring enough to comfort a total stranger on their breakup. I know that thunder storms don’t scare you.”

“I mean it’s just loud noises and rain,” Anna mumbles.

“And I know you have a beautiful voice. A beautiful mind. A beautiful heart.”

Anna doesn’t respond right away, but she does squeeze Elsa’s wrist in what she thinks is an expression of gratitude. The more they stray down this new path in their conversation, the harder it is to assume what Anna must be thinking. How she must be feeling. Elsa can only hope that she feels the comfort that Anna made her feel just a few short minutes ago.

She hears Anna take a breath like it’s something she’s forgotten to do. “You don’t know what I look like. I could be Medusa. Or a gross, alien thing.”

“I bet you’re a beautiful, gross, alien thing.”

That gets another laugh from Anna, this one with the joy and relief that Elsa was waiting for. “Well, I bet you’re a beautiful, gross, alien thing too.”

And that’s when Elsa feels it. That pull. The daring pull forward that she hasn’t felt in the longest time. In the dark, under stormy weather, and in the quiet of their secluded corner, Elsa admits to herself the bold attraction she feels for a woman she can’t even see. It’s exhilarating and terrifying, and the words she wants to say are on the tip of her tongue. The words “I think I want to kiss you” are ready to escape like a whisper.

But a flash of light hits wall to wall, brighter than the flashes of lightning from before, and interrupts all her thoughts. The airport is finally pulled out of its blackout, and the collective sigh of the remaining hopeful passengers rings through the corridor. Unattended luggage sits on dull, gray seats, people wake violently from their naps, and Anna-

Oh.

She can finally see Anna from Arizona.

She can see her large, forest green raincoat, her guitar on her lap with its polished rosewood and silver strings, her cane resting against her chair, her auburn-colored hair traveling down her shoulders, her freckles accenting her surprised expression…

And her milky, white eyes.

It catches Elsa so off-guard, that all she can do at first is sit up and blink. When words come back to her, she manages to stumble out a “Wow…”

Anna must sense the weight in Elsa’s reaction, and she shuts her eyes. “The lights came back on, didn’t they?”

“Y-yeah, I- they did. They finally did. I mean not finally, but…Anna-”

“No,” Anna interrupts, eyes shut painfully tight. “Please, you don’t have to say anything. I should have told you when we first started talking.”

“You didn’t have to, that’s not…I…this looks bad. Not look! Not- I’m sorry, I’m making you feel worse.”

“You’re not,” Anna protests, now ducking down to bury her face against her guitar. Through the covering, she says with gut-wrenching guilt, “I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable, Anna, I'm not. I was just surprised.”

“But in a bad way, right?”

“No! Not in a bad way.”

“Ugh, I should have told you. But I was too busy being stupid and crushing on you, and I forgot to just give you a head’s up like 'Hey by the way, I’m blind and have zombie eyes, I hope that doesn’t scare you’. Stupid Anna, stupid stupid-”

Elsa puts her hands on Anna’s shoulders and says her name, which causes the rambling woman to gasp and stop talking. When she’s sure that Anna’s not going to freak out on her again, Elsa says, “Please lift your head up.”

With a little assurance from Elsa, Anna finally sits back up and her hands rest on her guitar.

“Please…open your eyes,” Elsa asks with her hands traveling down to rest on top of Anna’s.

Anna shakes her head, though thankfully her expression has softened and it doesn’t look like she has a massive headache. “I don’t want to scare you.”

“I’m not scared, Anna. And I won’t be. Just please open your eyes.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

After a deep breath, Anna cautiously opens her eyes again, accompanied by another thunder strike. Though Elsa barely registers that, her focus is completely on Anna and the nervousness she can still see through her cloudy irises. At this point, someone much more deep, profound, and better with words would say something that would make Anna’s heart soar. And Elsa’s thinking of what she’d say if she were that kind of person.

But she’s not that kind of person and that’s okay.

Elsa smiles for the both of them and says, “I told you. You’re beautiful.” Expectedly, thankfully, and earnestly, Anna smiles too.

#elsanna #submission #June 2021 contest #prompt: storm

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thehorde · 6 years

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We are Originals

Someone said Sander Sides Clones AU and I've been watching orphan black and... this is happening now :))

Summary: When Thomas stops a young man from committing suicide, he is shocked when they turn out to look exactly alike. Life is not nearly as simple as he thought it was... Humanau, thesidesareclonesau,

WARNINGS: depression, anxiety, suicidal behavior, swearing (these are just for the story in general btw) please don't read if that triggers you!

Chapter 1

Thomas hated the smell of bleach. His throat would close and he’d freeze. Right there in the middle of whatever was going on. It made doing laundry take a stupid amount of time. And cleaning was absolutely a non-starter.

It was an unusually cool day for Florida. Rainy and muggy and basically dull but he would rather have been out there in the rain than stuck in here. In this tiny coffee shop.

Usually, it didn’t smell like bleach. Why should it? It smelled like coffee and chocolate and that fresh tinge that coffee shops just have but can’t be really linked to anything in particular. People lounged in chairs and chatted at tables, and he stood behind the espresso machine wondering if he would die or ascend into the astral plane if he filled the entire cup with shots of espresso. Maybe both. Both were good.

He snorted and looked up when a thin woman in leggings approached the counter. “I’d like a vanilla latte with extra caramel on top…”

He had no idea what she was saying. Which was fine because someone else would catch the order. Instead, he wound again through the video he was planning on posting tonight.

It was going to get all of four likes if he anticipated correctly. Joan, Talon, his brother (maybe), and his mom.

Okay, so he was still working on the internet presence thing. But none of this was a one-and-done type of thing. No, he was going to have to be persistent if he wanted to get anywhere.

And besides, it didn’t matter that much. He was just using youtube to practice until he finished this semester. Then, he was leaving this weird ol’ town for somewhere better. He wasn’t trying to be naive, but he really did want to try out his chances in Hollywood. He could act and he’d done so in numerous plays on a multitude of platforms. And he loved it. Every second of it. He’d done some on-camera acting, but there weren’t that many opportunities around here.

Out there, on the other hand…

“Dude. Dude!”

Thomas jerked away from the espresso machine, cursing. The steamed milk pulled away with his sleeve and split all over the floor.

His fellow employee gave him a look. “Seriously?”

Oh sorry, excuse you, not everyone is content being dead to the world. Thomas pursed his lips and snatched the rag out of the employee’s hand. “I’ll clean it.”

“You’re gonna need a mop.”

Thomas glared down at his milk splattered shoes. He lifted a foot and grimaced at the sticky give. He was going to need a mop.

Grumbling under his breath, he left the counter and opened the storage closet in the back. For previously mentioned reasons, Thomas most often avoided this closet.

Someone had the brilliant idea recently to get rid of fruit flies by drenching the entire closet in bleach.

He was already holding his breath when he opened the door, but he could still smell it (and he was crap at holding his breath anyway, which was kinda sad for a singer). He coughed and his stomach twisted as he pulled the mop out.

Might as well mop the whole line…

He breathed shallowly, ignoring his swimming head. It was a mental thing. He wasn’t allergic to bleach or anything. Although, he had fainted at a pool once…

He was definitely not going to faint now. For one that would mean having to explain his stupid thing against bleach, and two, well, he’d faint and fainting sucked.

So yeah. He was just going to have to… get through this.

His chest tightened. An anaconda of panic wound in between his ribs. Get a grip, idiot. He mopped up the milk quickly and shut the mop in the closet again, fingers fumbling on the door in his haste.

Now everything smelled like bleach.

Wonderful.

“You okay?”

Thomas cleared his throat, rubbed his nose, and forced himself to keep breathing. “Yeah. Fine.”

The end of his shift couldn’t come fast enough.

When he finally was released, night had fallen.

The sky was clear of clouds but the city lights blocked out the stars. He stuffed his work hat into his backpack, pulled on a light jacket, and braved the misty weather. Usually, he’d take a bus or ride his bike but… eh. He hadn’t done either today. His bike tires were flat, and the bus was a whole mess of social interactions he just hadn’t been feeling today. So he walked across the wet street and down the riverside, idly counting the halos of light the mist created by street lamps. They were ethereal in their quiet glow. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. His stomach was tight still and he paused for a moment in his walk to figure out why.

Oh yeah. He’d been thinking about California.

He’d told his parents last week, and they didn’t take it well. At all. In fact, they’d called a mandatory ‘family meeting’ to discuss just how horrible of an idea this was. It made Thomas feel like clawing something. He got it. They loved him and he was supposed to take on his father’s business and what about school and etc.. But couldn’t they have at least tried to think about how much he wanted this?

Thomas shifted the weight of his backpack, sniffed, and kept on down the road. He unwound the knot in his stomach bit by bit as he went. He was still pissed off about his bleach aversion and irritated at like, twelve customers who thought they were Prussian royalty equivalents. If he looked farther back, he was worried about passing his midterm, was nervous about whether or not his friend would want to share his apartment and if maybe he should have waited until a better time to ask them.

It would be nice to just feel emotions once instead of getting this clingy, lingering mess he had.

Thomas yawned and walked toward the bridge across the large river. The bridge was lined with those same street lamps, but there was no one around. It had to be past midnight (Perks of closing a coffee shop on a Friday night. Yay.) and the only car on the road was a beat up little truck parked in the middle of the bridge.

Thomas frowned. Actually, that was weird.

It wasn’t parked. It was just… stopped. Right in the middle of the road. Slowly, Thomas walked up to it. He stared from the sidewalk. A stiff wind was picking up in the middle of the bridge, and a bird cawed above him.

The lights dimmed suddenly.

Thomas came close to the car.

Empty. The engine was running but no one was inside. Whoever owned the car had raked the inside walls with their keys, leaving random stripes of cut fabric all over the ceiling and the walls. There were cigarette butt burns on the steering wheel and part of a blue, gas station icy in the center console. The whole thing together tightened up how little he’d managed to loosen the knot at the base of his ribs.

This was… really weird. Something was off.

A bird cawed over his head again.

Were birds usually awake at night?

Thomas backed away from the car and squinted into the mist above his head. The bridge’s tendons and bones extended up above him and disappeared into the dark.

And something up there moved.

Thomas scrambled back to the sidewalk and squinted up. Was that the bird? No. It was much too large to be a bird.

The dark form leaned farther away from the platform it was standing on.

And all at once, Thomas’s heart gave a massive, single thump in his throat. “Oh god,” he breathed. That was a person. There was a person up there.

“Hey!” he shouted. “Hey, you shouldn’t be up there!” You’ll fall. He figured the person knew that.

“Hey, can you hear me? How about you climb down! Your car is j-just out here!” He had no idea what to say. He had absolutely no idea what he could possibly say to make this person come down.

“Don't! Stop!” he screamed up at the figure.

The person did not respond. They did not even seem to register that he was there.

Suddenly, thunder cracked through the sky. No lightning. Just the jagged cracking of the sky. Thomas cupped his hands around his mouth. He needed to get up there. Maybe if he could get up there… He scrambled toward a little, previously chained off worker’s ladder. That had to be how the person got up there. Thomas fumbled up the first few bars. He was close to the edge of the bridge. The wind was much colder now. It screamed in his head and the yawning darkness to his left only made it seem all the louder. “Wait!”

The person leaned farther. Silhouetted in the streetlamps, Thomas could see their fingertips wrapped around a suspension cable. The hand loosened. “No!”

And then the figure fell.

Thomas acted faster than he thought possible. He threw himself sideways, toward the water, and jumped off the rungs of the latter. He couldn’t have said what was his conscious thought at that moment. But he needed to catch the figure.

And miracle of miracles, Thomas’s fingers met with fabric. How had he even done that? He held on. His hands slammed into the edge of the bridge, figure in his grip, and his arms screamed, but that was all he registered before his feet slipped off the edges off the ladder.

He flipped downward with the figure, screaming. The person struggled with him, and he caught a glimpse of white, panicked eyes. A shouted word. Maybe it was NO.

And then his feet slammed into the water.

It was black and so overwhelming he hardly felt anything at all.

It wasn’t far enough to kill him, he thought disjointedly. I’m not dead so it must not have been.

Unless he was dying right now.

Given that, his lungs were screaming. Thomas tried to move his arms but pain arched up them. No. How was he supposed to swim with screwed up arms? His heart thrummed faster and faster in his throat, panting to stay on top of things.

I’m going to die here.

He couldn’t move his arms.

He couldn’t move at all. The water was sealing him inside. They were going to rake the lake for their bodies. They were going to find them on the beach all bloated and disgusting and dead. Dead. ohgod.

Thomas would have cried if he could. Instead, he screamed and bubbles escaped to the surface. The moonlight was bright now, and it filtered down all silvery and… and… something. He couldn’t think of the word. Pretty, though.

Sorry, Mom.

I’m s-

Someone grabbed him by his arms. Shooting pain. A great pull.

And suddenly he was going up. His ears popped.

They burst from the water and Thomas gasped and coughed and choked and most importantly, breathed.

Someone was behind him. At his ear. “S-stupid idiot” the voice choked.

They swam toward the bank. Thomas tried to use his legs, but his vision was narrow and he was so tired.

Sometime later, he couldn’t tell how much, he was on a beach. Pebbles. It smelled like urine and duck poop and dirty water.

He coughed and tried to sit up, but someone lifted him slightly and pulled him farther out of the water. Onto grass.

He lay there gasping.

What the heck just happened? He blinked up.

The stars blinked back.

He shivered and the person at his side was warm but shivering just as much as Thomas, grumbling in between coughs. “What the hell did you do that for?”

Thomas swallowed, suddenly remembering. “You were j-jumping.”

The figure stilled at his voice. “Yeah,” he croaked. “Yeah. I was. I…” He sounded shocked. “... I did.”

Thomas didn’t have the energy to look at him. He grunted. “Don’t do that. Like, ever again.”

He didn’t get an answer.

When he opened his eyes, the figure was staring down at him. Thomas couldn’t make out his features in the darkness, but the figure must have seen something in Thomas’s face because his eyes widened. “The chances…” he whispered.

The figure glanced back at the bridge and suddenly Thomas found the energy. He grabbed the stranger’s arm. “Please,” he croaked. “I did not just jump off a freaking bridge for you to jump again.”

The stranger said nothing for a long time. Then he nodded. He shivered but it wasn’t the cold that shook his voice. “I thought I was going to die.”

“Me too.”

“I… I thought I wanted to but…” the stranger’s voice thickened. “What the hell is wrong with me…”

Thomas slumped back into the grass. His arms were still hurting, but they could wait until suicide juncture here steadied. The stranger wiped his face with a violently shaking hand. “W-we should get you home. Where d-do you live?”

Thomas’s brain scrambled. It took him a second but he spit out the address, and the stranger got to his feet. He reached down a hand, and Thomas took it with his right arm, which didn’t hurt nearly as bad. Even the movement of crawling onto the beach had popped back in whatever he’d disconnected in his arm. They were going to bruise, but he didn’t think anything was torn.

They supported each other in a huddled sort of standing position. “My car is still on the bridge. I can get it.”

Thomas snorted. “We can get it. No offense.”

A sick, wet sounding laugh escaped the stranger. “Okay.”

They were stronger as they walked but still cold. There was still no one around, but the darkness seemed to have lessened and the wind was quieter. Once they reached the car, Thomas crawled into the passenger seat. They’d had a brief argument about who was in better condition to drive the car and ended up deciding they were screwed either way.

“If you drive us off this bridge, I will haunt your ass.”

The stranger tensed in his seat. Closed the door. Their clothes squelched in the leather seats. Thomas was shaking so bad he could hardly take off his jacket, although he managed it. The stranger did not even attempt. “I’m not a murderer,” the stranger said.

Thomas glanced at him. “I know you’re not.” And he did. It had occurred to him that the only reason the stranger hadn’t just floated in the water (if he’d survived without Thomas’s intervention) was because Thomas was drowning as well.

The stranger didn’t bother with headlights. They drove through the city and people continued on their midnight ways like nothing absolutely life-altering had just taken place. Thomas kept gulping, very aware of the oxygen in his throat.

“You shouldn’t have… have…”

Thomas’s jaw tightened. “Sure. I’d just keep walking.”

Silence.

“It would have made this easier.”

Being pissed off probably wasn’t a reaction he should act on. But come on, he nearly died for this sucker. “Well, I am so sorry I ruined your scheme.”

More quiet.

Thomas pointed out a turn in the street.

“You’re right,” the stranger said, softer. “I… I am glad you stopped me. I am less cool about you nearly dying in the process.”

Thomas grunted. “Remember that. Kay? You killing yourself doesn’t just hurt you. It hurts all sorts of people. Including the random dude on the bridge in the middle of the night.”

And there was that sound again. The almost laugh. It made Thomas unnaturally happy. He needed this stranger to laugh. To smile.

“You sound like Roman.”

As they turned on to Thomas’s street, Thomas glanced at the stranger. “Who?”

“M-my brother.”

“... Does he know where you are right now?”

“No.”

Thomas could have guessed as much.

“But that’s okay,” the stranger whispered. “Apparently I can’t get away from you guys...” He parked in front of Thomas’s house, and Thomas was so filled with relief to be home that he nearly missed the stranger looking at him.

They got out of the car shakily and Thomas felt down his wet pants for his keys. Miraculously, they were still with him. He stumbled up the steps, the stranger steadying him at his elbow. Thomas could barely keep his balance, so he didn’t complain, even though he knew the stranger had to be in the same state. He managed to unlock the front door of the apartment, and they both piled inside. It was warm and soft and fuzzy and gentle in there and Thomas immediately set out to his bedroom. “I’ll get you some clothes.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Don’t be an ass. I’m getting you clothes. We’re about the same height.”

The stranger snorted like that was funny, but followed him loosely through the dark hallways. Thomas pulled some sweatpants and shirts and underwear out of his drawers and handed them to the stranger unceremoniously. “Bathro-” he started, only to stop.

There were razors in the bathroom and he was not risking that.

“You dress in here. I’ll go into the hall.”

The stranger grunted. And Thomas got the feeling he knew what Thomas’s thought process had been, but he didn’t protest. Thomas shook his head and slumped outside of his bedroom. He closed the door and quickly stripped his wet clothes and pulled on the dry clean ones. He still smelled like gross pond water, but he could hardly be bothered about that right now. He needed to make sure this person he’d just rescued or who’d just rescued him, was alright. He didn’t want to pressure him. How do you deal with someone like this? Should he be watching what he said closer? Or was it better to just be himself? Thomas groaned slightly and dropped to the floor in front of the door onto the other side of the door, his hair drooping into his face. He couldn’t… leave him… But he was so tired…

He jerked awake when the door cracked open. The light from inside the room spilled into the hallway. “Alright,” the stranger said softly, and Thomas blinked at him. “I’m going to do something now, and you need to not freak out.”

Thomas didn’t like the sound of that. “I-I don’t understand.”

Slowly, the stranger opened the door so that it was bright enough to see him clearly.

And Thomas suddenly forgot about being tired.

Chapter 2

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