Work Text:
“Therese? Therese, love, where are you?”
Rain hammers on the roof and slams against the glass windows in sheets. The power’s out all down Madison Avenue, and Carol stumbles through the darkness, blindly groping her way through and praying she doesn’t blunder into any of the furniture.
“I’m coming, Carol. Just stay where you are.”
She stops, and takes a few deep, calming breaths–as calming as they can be, anyhow. A bolt of lightning splits the sky apart and bangs its fist against all the windows, lighting up the room in a flash of white that’s harsh against dark. The shadows look too big in that split second. Carol trembles.
A jolting clap of thunder seizes her body, and she gasps, startled. Her grip on whatever piece of furniture she’s clinging to–the couch–tightens. “Therese?”
Lightning races across the New York skyline again, and this time it offers just enough light to allow Carol to see Therese carefully navigating her way across the room.
“I’ve got candles,” Therese says, just barely loud enough over the rain. “Hold on.”
The stroke of a match, and suddenly Carol sees Therese’s face illuminated by a tiny flame. She brings the match to the wick, and when she’s sure the flame holds, she hands it to Carol. “Here.”
Carol takes it and grips onto it hard; this is the only moment she’s grateful that it’s dark enough so Therese can’t see how tightly she’s holding it. Therese quickly lights her own, and smiles. “Let’s hope everything in the icebox will keep until the power comes back on.”
Carol smiles a little, perhaps a little more weakly than she’d like. It’s hard to keep lighthearted when the rain sounds like its trying to take down the entire building. Therese notices, though (she never fails to, Carol thinks), and takes a few steps closer to Carol so she can rest a comforting hand on her arm. “Are you scared?”
“I’m not frightened, There–” Lightning immediately accompanied by thrashing thunder interrupts her, and she jumps, nearly dropping her candle as she clings to Therese’s hand on her arm.
Therese brings her arm around Carol’s waist and ushers them to the bedroom, whispering calming things along the way. When they arrive, Therese tells her to get comfortable in bed, and then turns to leave.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Carol asks as she puts her candle on the nightstand. Her voice wavers slightly.
Therese looks over her shoulder, and Carol can just make out her warm smile as the little flame from her candle flickers. “To get more candles.”
The rain hammers down on the roof and slams against the glass windows in sheets, but right here, right now, Carol feels safe. Their room glows with a soft sort of moving light that Edison lightbulbs just can’t provide, and Therese holds her tightly with her head against her chest. When the lightning cleaves the sky in two and thunder growls against the clouds, Carol can’t help the little roll of panic down her spine, but she immediately remembers where she is: underneath the covers, in Therese’s arms.
She places a kiss on Therese’s head. “Thank you,” she whispers through the rain.
Therese smiles against her skin.
Bonus:
Therese slips one arm around Carol’s waist, and with the other guides Rindy to their bedroom. She leaves only to return with an armful of candles, and lights each one before getting into bed. Rindy wriggles her way between them, and Carol reaches to hold Therese tight. When Therese looks over Rindy (who’s quickly falling asleep), Carol’s eyes shimmer with adoration in the candlelight.