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It was cloudy.
Sure, cloudy days weren’t rare, but when it got overcast people noticed. The slight drop in temperature was appreciated by everyone. Jet had propped the door of the diner open to let in the cooler air. Spark and Birdie were drawing on a large sheet of paper in the booth by the window, creating scenes of the weather from the City. Ghoul was leaning against the booth and watching them while Jet sorted through his collection of newspaper clippings. Birdie had asked about the ways towns and cities worked before BLI took over, and Jet just knew he had something that could give them some information. He flipped through pages, scanning the headlines. He landed on the word ‘market’ and pulled the page out.
“Hey, Birdie, I found somethin’ on ‘farmers markets.’ Want me to read it?”
Birdie looked up. “Yeah!” He slid out of the booth and crouched next to Jet by the front counter, reading the headline over his shoulder. As Jet read the article- something about a town’s local market re-opening for the season- out loud, Spark and Ghoul drifted closer to listen.
“They had a market just like ours!” Ghoul said. “Y’know if other towns had ‘em?”
Jet shrugged. “The way it’s talking about farmers markets makes ‘em sound pretty common. My guess is that most towns had their own.”
“Cool…” Birdie leaned closer, reaching over Jet’s shoulder and pointing at the main picture. “Look how much fresh food there is!”
“Where’s this paper from?” Ghoul asked. “I’ve never seen those trees out here.”
“‘S from Washington; someone brought a bunch of newspapers from up there while they were passin’ through, and I managed to get a couple. They had all kinds of stories-” a low, loud rumble made Jet look up. “What in the hell…”
Spark had moved to the window, looking around for the source of the noise. “There’s nothing out here, what the fuck was that?” Another rumble happened, making the walls shake slightly.
“Thunder!” Ghoul exclaimed. “It’s a dry thunderstorm. They usually need rain n’ shit, but they can still happen in the desert.” He pushed himself up and sat on the counter, swinging his legs. “Man, it’s been a long time since we had one. I was seven last time.” Jet saw him stiffen ever-so-slightly at the end of his sentence, his face falling. Spark and Birdie didn’t seem to notice.
“The weather in the City is artificial, I’ve never heard thunder before!” Spark looked up at the thin cloud cover again. “Isn’t there also lightning?”
“Yeah,” Ghoul said, voice flat now. “Shit’s dangerous, don’t go outside til the storm’s over.” Spark made an affirmative noise and called Birdie over. Ghoul had his head down, watching his legs swing. Jet slid closer to him.
“You alright?”
Ghoul kept his head down. “Yeah, I just-” he took a breath. “Last time I heard thunder was before… that whole thing. When I was eight.”
Jet nodded. He’d heard about the bombing on Ghoul’s community not long after he escaped the city, years before he’d even met Ghoul. The city didn’t like killjoys raising kids, and would do anything to discourage them. Even attacking a peaceful community of families. He suppressed the urge to scowl and brushed his hand against Ghoul’s. “You wanna get away from the noise?” He asked. Ghoul nodded and hopped off the counter, letting Jet follow him farther into the diner. He stayed long enough to see Ghoul push past the rubber door and sit down in the old supply closet that was his room before going back to check on Spark and Birdie. Another wave of thunder hit, slightly louder this time. Birdie shrieked, but it turned into laughter as the thunder passed.
Spark turned around at the sound of Jet coming out of the kitchen. “Where’d Ghoul go?” They asked.
“He doesn’t like the noise,” Jet said, trying to skim the details. “He’s in his room.”
“Forgot he even had his own room,” Spark said, raising their eyebrows. It was true; Ghoul often slept in the main room, and only really went into his own room when he was upset or just needed time to himself. Jet hoped Spark and Birdie would assume the latter, but his instinct said otherwise. He wasn’t good at reading expressions, and could only tell Spark was worried by the dramatic set to their brow. And if Spark was worried, then so was Birdie.
“He’ll be fine, he just needs to-” a much louder boom of thunder rolled through the sky, making the few dishes in the sink rattle. What made Jet bolt back into the kitchen, though, was the sudden sharp scream from Ghoul’s room. He heard Spark and Birdie close behind, but ignored them as he burst into the room. Ghoul was standing rigidly in the corner, but launched himself into Jet’s arms, clinging tightly around his waist with a high-pitched whine and trembling violently. Jet wrapped his arms around Ghoul and pulled his head against his chest. In the few months Jet had known Ghoul, he’d seen him panic three times. The first time was an awful trial-and-error of attempting to comfort the younger boy, but after he’d calmed down they quickly hashed out the procedures on each other’s panic attacks. Jet knew he needed to get Ghoul sitting or laying down, but Spark and Birdie’s presence threw a wrench in the usual routine. He stamped down his own anxiety about the unexpected change and glanced over his shoulder at Birdie, who’d stepped closer. Before he could stop him, Birdie reached out and touched Ghoul’s upper arm.
Ghoul yanked himself out of Jet’s embrace, stumbling to the side and sliding down the wall until he was crouched on the floor. He rocked back and forth as more thunder crashed, fists tugging on his hair and whimpering.
“What’s happening?” Spark asked.
“He’s panicking, but it’s never been this bad,” Jet replied quickly, voice clipped. He turned around and shook his hands out. “You two need to wait outside the room. I don’t know what to do when it’s more than just me and him. I should be able to figure it out, but please stay outside.”
Birdie looked past Jet and at Ghoul. “But he’s-”
“Leave!” Jet barked. The plan was different now. He didn’t know what to do when it was different- He closed his eyes and exhaled. “Please.”
Spark was already pulling Birdie out. Jet turned back to Ghoul, who was still rocking. He kneeled next to him and made sure he was in his line of sight before moving closer. “Ghoul, can you hear me? Kid?” Ghoul leaned into Jet and ended up falling against him, but Jet sat and let Ghoul wrap himself around him again. “It’s okay, it’s just thunder. You’re gonna be okay.”
Ghoul was mumbling under his breath, face pressed against Jet’s chest. Jet could see Spark and Birdie in the doorway, but ignored them. Another crash of thunder made Ghoul tense up. “I know it’s loud,” Jet said softly, “but we’re not in danger. It’s just thunder. Everyone’s safe.” Jet added ‘loud noises’ to the mental list of triggers for Ghoul. “Just thunder.” He ran his hand through Ghoul’s hair. “It’s okay.”
He felt Ghoul grab at his shirt again and made a test push at his shoulder. If he could get Ghoul sitting up on his own, they’d be on the right track. But Ghoul held him tighter with a broken little sound that made Jet freeze up. Okay, so we aren’t getting up any time soon. He was about to settle back down to wait the panic out when Ghoul murmured again.
“Dad…”
Oh, shit. Oh, fucking shit. Goddammit. Jet absolutely did not know what to do with a flashback. Ghoul was whispering to himself, and from the rushed tone and what sounded like “where are you,” Jet could guess what Ghoul was remembering. He held him tighter and tried to keep his breathing steady; the last thing they needed was for Jet to panic, too. Ghoul was trembling again, pulling on Jet’s shirt in a way that he knew was going to leave the most annoying wrinkles, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when tears were pricking the backs of his eyes. He was so focused on holding Ghoul and not crying that he didn’t notice Birdie come closer until he kneeled down.
“He’s stuck in the past, right?” Birdie asked, voice low. Jet nodded; his wording was strange but Jet got the idea. “He needs to breathe. Needs to breathe even.” Birdie shifted to sit next to Jet and peered down at Ghoul’s buried face. “Ghoul? Can you hear me? It’s Birdie. Can you hear me? It’s Birdie.” He twitched his head in the way Jet guessed was to stop himself from repeating phrases. Ghoul turned his head ever-so-slightly and looked up at Birdie, who smiled. “Hey, Ghoul. You’re having a flashback.”
“Flashback,” Ghoul said under his breath.
“Yeah, flashback. Havin’ a flashback. I’m s’posed to tell you that, and then you need to breathe slower. Breathe slower and deeper. Can you try n’ breathe slower?”
Ghoul took a long, shuddering breath, closing his eyes as he exhaled.
“What’s everythin’ you’re s’posed to do for this?” Jet asked. If Birdie knew, then Jet could memorize the steps and add them to the routine. He couldn’t deal with not knowing what to do if this happened again; the helplessness was killing him.
Birdie’s words were slow, halting, like he was putting effort into speaking clearly. “You gotta tell them their havin’ a flashback, and just keep everything calm and get their breathing even. Try an’ get them to describe what’s around them, so they can see what’s real or whatever.” He looked down at Ghoul again. “Hey, Ghoul, can you look around and tell us what’s there? Describe, describe-” he shook his head again. “Fucking hell. Sorry if the repetition is bad. Can you describe shit?”
Ghoul paused, but slowly pushed away from Jet and sat up, staring at the old shelves. “Shelf. Don’t have much stuff; not a lot on ‘em.” He looked at Birdie, who gave him a thumbs-up. Ghoul fell silent again and leaned back into Jet. “You guys’re here… Spark is in the doorway.” Jet glanced to see Spark silhouetted in the doorway, gripping their arm the same way Jet did when he was nervous.
“Cool, cool, awesome. So y’know where you are?”
“...Yeah. Yeah, we’re… the diner. We’re in the diner.”
“There was thunder, but everything’s okay,” Jet added.
“Everything’s okay,” Ghoul repeated cautiously. “Just thunder…” He slumped fully into Jet, sliding down a bit. “That was awful.” Jet petted his hair while Birdie stood back up to rejoin Spark at the door. Ghoul sighed heavily. “That was so awful.” He wrapped his arms farther around Jet and closed his eyes. Jet looked at Birdie, who shrugged. He must be tired, Jet thought, then whispered, “I think we’re okay now; he should just sleep it off.” Maybe he could get his own emotions under control once Birdie and Spark left. His prayers were answered when Birdie took hold of the arm Spark was digging their nails into and led them away, probably to sit at the booth and draw again.
With his face squished against Jet’s chest, Ghoul looked so young. He hated to admit it, but it was easy to forget just how many children were in the Zones with the way they were forced to grow up so fast. But this was a 11-year-old kid, passed out in his arms because of a flashback from something that never should have happened to him. Jet pulled Ghoul closer- if that was even possible- and rested his chin on top of his head. I promise you, we’ll keep each other safe, Fun Ghoul.
Promises weren’t very reliable in the Zones, but damn it if Jet wasn’t going to try his best to keep this one.