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Trisha didn’t think that she had ever been so tense. The sky was as grey as slate and the clouds were moving rapidly in the wind, almost seeming like they were boiling above her. Everyone had been predicting a storm to hit for the last couple of days, but Trisha had been hoping against hope that they were mistaken, and that the bad weather would deflect off the hills and go straight to Eastern City like it always did. Resembool was blessed to be sheltered in the valley as it was, so rarely seeing extremes of weather. It was this mild microclimate that made it so wonderful for farming and growing vegetables, and it meant that thunderstorms were few and far between. There had not been lightning in Resembool for a long time now, and Trisha always hoped that she would be able to avoid the next storm.
It didn’t look like this one was going to be avoidable though. It was brewing right above them, and no doubt the thunder and lightning would start soon. She closed her eyes as she stood at the window, not wanting to see the roiling sky anymore, and she brought one hand down to her belly, feeling the slight curve. She was nowhere near showing yet, just three months in, but she could feel him in there, safe and snug and undisturbed. At least, she hoped that he was undisturbed. She had no idea if babies in the womb could feel their mother’s fears or not. She hoped that her current unease wasn’t causing him any distress. (Or her, but Trisha had been convinced from the moment she first found out she was expecting that she was having a son.)
“Trisha? Is everything ok, love?”
She nodded, forcing herself to open her eyes and turn around to face Van with a smile on her face.
“I’m fine. Just looking at the weather.”
“Yes, Pinako thinks it’s going to be a bad storm. Strange, in all the time I’ve spent here in Resembool I don’t think I’ve ever seen a thunderstorm here.”
“No, they’re pretty rare. We usually get such good weather.”
“Still, sometimes it’s needed to clear the air and rejuvenate everything. We’re at a good vantage point to watch it over the valley here.”
Trisha suppressed a shudder. It was bad enough that there was a storm coming; the last thing that she wanted to do was watch it do its work. Of course, Van didn’t know that, because she had never actually told Van that she was scared of storms. There’d never been a reason to, because in all the time that they had known each other and been living together, there had never been a big storm, at least not one so close. And she couldn’t exactly admit it to him now. She was nearly a mother. She had to be brave about these things. It was time to face her fears. The storm was not going to beat her.
The first flash of lightning shot across the sky, making everything in the kitchen glow a stark and eerie blue-white for a moment, and Trisha forgot all notions of being brave, ice flooding through her veins and making her scream, suddenly four years old again and experiencing her first ever thunderstorm, and she did what she had done seventeen years ago, and during every thunderstorm since, and dived under the kitchen table. She curled in on herself, hugging her knees tightly and sobbing as the crash of thunder followed the lightning, seeming to make the very ground shake underneath her.
She screamed again as she felt something brush her shoulder, but then she was being pulled into an embrace, tumbling into an ungainly heap in Van’s lap as he held her close.
“It’s all right,” he said, stroking her back as she buried her face in his shoulder. “It’s ok, you’re safe. I’m right here.”
For a long time they just sat there under the table, Trisha with her eyes screwed tight shut against the lightning but still flinching every time she heard a peal of thunder. They were getting closer together, the storm was right overhead and she cringed at the thought of lightning striking the house or the trees around it and everything going up in smoke. Van kept murmuring soothing nonsense to her, and even though she wasn’t feeling particularly soothed, knowing that she wasn’t alone and that Van wasn’t scared was at least going a little way to stop her collapsing into utter panic.
“It’s ok,” Van said eventually. “I think it’s all over now.”
Trisha still didn’t want to move, just in case the storm was just lulling them into a false sense of security and it would start up again as soon as they left the safety of the table, but she did try to untense herself a little, letting go of Van’s shirt.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m so stupid.”
“There’s nothing stupid about being scared.”
“I’m a grown woman, I shouldn’t be scared of thunderstorms.”
“I’m pretty sure that everyone is scared of something, no matter how old they are.”
Trisha looked up at him, but his face was completely earnest.
“What are you scared of then?”
“Losing you.” His answer was immediate and unquestionable, and he brought one hand between them to touch her belly. “Losing you and our little one. The thought of that terrifies me.”
Trisha sighed. “That’s not exactly the same as being scared of lightning.”
“Perhaps not, but just because our fears are different doesn’t mean that one is any less valid than the other. No one is fearless. Anyone who says otherwise is a fool.”
They fell back into silence. The thunder rumbled again, but it sounded much more distant now; it was heading out over the hills in the direction of Ishval, and Trisha began to relax. The worst was over.
“Thank you for being here,” she said, pressing a kiss to Van’s lips.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else. I’ll help you through your fears.”
“And I’ll help you through yours as well.” Trisha smiled at the thought. “Maybe that’s why humans always gravitate towards each other to form friendships and relationships. Everyone is scared of something, but if we’re all scared of different things then we can all help each other through those fears whenever they arise.”
Van nodded. “Yes, I like that notion.” He let go of her and crawled out from under the table, holding out a hand to help her up. Although Trisha would always pray that there would be no more storms in Resembool ever, she felt a little calmer at the prospect of the next one knowing that she had Van to hold her through it.