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"Night-night Clair-bear," Lisa whispered gently as she pulled the bedroom door closed, leaving it ajar just in case. Clara, named after Lisa's mother, snuggled into the covers of her "big girl bed," having recently reached the age where she had outgrown her crib. It was raining gently outside, the water gently pitter-pattering against the glass windows. Bedtime was sometimes a challenge, and Lisa hoped that the rain wouldn't wake her up.
Looking over at her husband, she asked him quietly, "Coming to bed?"
He turned his head from where he was seated in their living room, an open copy of Jane Eyre in his hands. "I'll join you in a bit dearest. Another chapter or two at most." Lisa nodded, going about the process of getting ready for bed. She knew him well by now. Enough to know that his habit of getting lost in books would keep him up til at least midnight. She didn't mind though - he'd gone 152 years without any sort of stimulation. She couldn't fault him for not wanting to miss a moment of the second life that he'd been granted.
The clock continued to softly tick as he got lost in the book, only half hearing the increasing turbulence of the storm outside. It was only when there was a bright flash of lightning through the windows that he even really noticed. Marking his place in his book, he set the old volume down and got up to close the living room curtains, only to hear a door creak open. Turning around, he saw a pair of large, frightened green eyes. He smiled softly. "What are you doing up so late?", he asked gently.
Another loud clap of thunder sent the little girl running towards her father, burying her face in his pant leg. At last, he understands.
"Ah, I see," he says softly, gently crouching down to pick up the small child, holding her close. "I know thunderstorms are loud and scary-looking, but there's nothing to be afraid of," he said as he gently rocked her. Yet another thunderclap had her burying her face in his neck. "They're really rather wonderful things."
Stepping softly towards the window, he continued to rock his daughter gently. "Did I ever tell you I met Mama because of a thunderstorm?" he asked her. Clara suddenly perked up, her large doe eyes curiously looking at her father. She didn't quite have the words to ask him just yet, but her face was asking for more information. If it was a story she wanted, then a story she would have, he decided.
Even years after his resurrection, he still wasn't much for talking. That was his wife's department. But he happily indulged his daughter's desire for a story when asked. "You see, I was asleep for a very long time," he began. He still hadn't come to a consensus with Lisa on whether Clara would ever hear the entire truth of how they met. So for now, he put it in terms that were best suitable for little ears. "Mama would come and visit me all the time. Even though I was asleep, I knew she was there."
Clara listened with rapt attention, looking out the window as her father pointed to it. "It was on a night very much like this one when I finally woke up. And do you know something? I was scared too." He didn't go into the details of why he was scared. Things like cars and radios were nothing new to Clara. She wouldn't understand the temporal shock that her father had endured upon his reawakening.
"The very first thing I wanted to do when I finally woke up was see your Mama," he continued. "I didn't even know what she looked like, only her voice. But I knew I had to find her." Clara was now looking out at the window, seemingly calmed by her father's gentle voice. "She didn't know what I looked like either. And she was scared at first. But you know what? That was perfectly fine with me. I got to fall in love with her all over again."
The little girl's eyes were slowly beginning to droop as her father continued to gently rock her. "So you see, sweetheart. Sometimes things might be scary, but they can lead to wonderful things. It led me to Mama, and eventually you." He looked down to see that Clara was finally drifting off again. Turning to go tuck her in, he spotted Lisa, smiling with tears in her eyes.
They'd long established their own nonverbal language. He didn't need to ask her why she was up, and she didn't need to know why their daughter had run to her father in the middle of the night. They silently looked at each other before he went back to tucking in their little girl. The Creature leaned down and gently kissed her forehead before brushing her downy hair from her face, leaving the door ajar to rejoin his wife.