Work Text:
Rain pounds into the mud and sands of the forest as Anna runs across rocks. Her cooler overflows with pounds of black bass and salmon. Her boots grip the ground as much as they can. Deer and bears hide in their dens. Thunder strikes a tree, causing it to tumble into the ground.
It was sunny and humid earlier. The best weather available. Something that Anna considered good for fishing. Now, rain stabs into her skin like needles. Her fishing pole is tangled into her hair. Fuck. It's all a mess. Is that a tunnel formation???
She leaps over a branch and slips in the mud. The fish barely stay in her cooler. It’s straining her arms. There’s a small pathway that leads to what looks like housing.
Lance lives around, right? Maybe... just maybe...
...
The rain thunks above Lance's head as he sweeps the floor. His carpet is wet, freshly shampooed. He's onto his kitchen now, trying to scrub it clean of filth.
He had never put much thought into cleaning his trailer. Not ever. He trashed it when he bought it, leaving food to rot into his furniture. Now that he knew that someone... cared... about him, he found a new purpose to clean. It was still odd. Still strange. Would she even come back? Why clean? What gives?
Maybe he could invite Matt? Inviting Natalie is a far cry. She's been busy with her uni work. And.. flirting with Matt. And... other things. Lance had seen her nose deep in Fifty Shades of Grey. Her fingers gripped onto cheap internet smut slop. He swore that she took her time at work to write miscellaneous ventures into whatever she consumed. His name was on a document.
It’s probably not a big deal.
His hands grasp a steel wool sponge and start to etch away at years of grease and grime. He can hear wind whistle across his trailer windows. It threatens to tip over. Lance had made sure he had weighed the trailer down enough earlier in the day. It shouldn't tip. It used to be his father’s first home. It’s seen worse than a little storm.
He uses his fingernail to scratch away a particularly tough spot on the stove. It gets under the keratin, making his hands filthier than normal. He washes his hands roughly with dish soap. His hands reek of citrus. They itch slightly.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
The neighbors' kids must be throwing rocks again. In this weather? He should give them a piece of his-
"OPEN THE DOOR SHITWAD!!!"
Anna?????
Lance scampers over to the front door and swings it open.
Anna, absolutely WRECKED in rainwater, pushes past him. She drops a bucket and a cooler onto his floor, shutting the door behind her. Her hair drips all over the floor. The fishing pole is intertwined with her hair. The hook seemed to have hit a nasty snag on her cheek.
"H- Hello??”
Anna doesn’t greet him at first, ripping the pole and line out of her hair in one single swoop. She shakes off the water like a dog, and looks at the man. They both stand awkwardly.
"I.. I really thought.. that it was an animal. Sorry."
"It wasn't!!" She barks, huffing and wringing more water out. He watches his freshly cleaned carpet become soiled with rainwater.
"Sorry. Again." He mumbles.
Lance goes to grab a first aid kit, fresh clothes, and a towel from his room without prompting. Anna takes them eagerly without a hitch. She sprints to the bathroom and slams the door. The shower is heard soon after.
Not a thanks, not anything indicating that his appearance was abnormal.
Anna came to him in the rain for shelter. Him??? HIM??
Lance grabs her fishing pole and tinkers with it. He removes the damaged and tangled line, setting the empty rod against his wall. The lure settles high on a shelf with a variety of figurines he's collected. Just so that it can’t injure anyone else.
"... Hopefully that's fine with her."
He listens to the cooler slosh and splash. The few fish inside are desperate to escape the confines of insulated plastic. He does not listen to their whims.
Fried fish is good, alongside potatoes. He could taste it now.
...No. He shouldn’t taste it. It’s her fish. He can’t take her fish.
“Would she appreciate that the house is clean? Would she question WHY the house was clean? The house is WAY too clean now! It's weird! It's suspicious!”
He shoves his face into his hands and slides them down his face. The TV behind him swaps over into a weather report, discussing the storms and terror.
"The weather is getting really bad in these areas.." The reporter says, gesturing to Redpine.
"Even if the tornadoes don't hit, the flooding on the roads will keep you there for a bit! Heh, hope you got your milk and eggs!"
Ah shit.
No work tomorrow. Hopefully Matt won't care. With the floodwaters and the aftermath, there’s no way that him and Anna could make it to the office. He couldn’t call him at that moment. Matt was either shitfaced, asleep, or both.
"I didn't know we shared the same size."
“ACK-?”
Anna had finished up her refresh, dressed in a set of pajamas that Lance had owned. She jumped onto the couch, leaning into the shitty velvet. Lance sat on the floor.
"Hey. Don't tell the other lovebirds this, but Matt's clothes are the most uncomfortable shits ever. When we'd sleep over, he'd hand me his shirts. Most of them have gigantic tears in the pits!"
"What does that have to do with me?”
“Your shirts don’t have holes in the pits.”
“What does that mean.”
“I dunno. You take care of your stuff more?”
The news reporters are now cracking jokes about how weather like this rarely comes around. They're talking about how it feels like there's another Arc out there, and to watch out for Noah and his animals. Anna looks over at Lance, smirking.
"... Do you ever wonder why Noah rescued mosquitoes, but not dinosaurs?" She asks. She also puts her feet on the coffee table, sending an empty cup clattering to the floor.
"That's a weird conversation starter."
Anna giggles as she changes the channel from the news to Nickelodeon. Spongebob's on, and he's delivering pizza.
"Okay, but dinosaurs are badass!! Have you ever heard of mosquitoes doing good for the world??"
"... Mosquitoes can be used to 3d print. They help pollinate like bees do. Some are just assholes. All animals can be assholes." Lance states blankly.
"COUNTERPOINT!! Bees.. er.."
Anna thinks.
"I have no counterpoint! I was gonna say bees don't bite, but bees send you to the hospital!!"
Lance looks at Anna confusedly.
"...No they don't?"
"Yeah they do!!"
Lance squints his eyes and glares at Anna.
"Anna... Are you... allergic to bees???" He asks.
"What? Doesn't everyone go to the hospital after a bee sting?"
Lance looks worriedly at Anna. A tree branch flies past his window. The power for the trailer wavers ever so slightly.
"No?"
"... No?" She raises her eyebrows, expecting an answer other than just "no".
"NO?????" Lance shouts.
Anna goes into the defense.
"Mom said that was normal!!"
"Anna, you're allergic to bees!!"
"Is that what it is???"
"YES!!! YOU'RE ALLERGIC TO BEES!!!"
"MOM SAID EVERYONE REACTS THAT WAY TO BEES!!!"
"NO THEY DO NOT!!!"
“YES THEY DO!!!”
The wind howls stronger, pushing against the walls of the camper. Anna and Lance are still arguing as the wind hounds at the walls. Lance is arguing that he’s never been allergic to bees. Anna is arguing that EVERYONE is somewhat allergic to bees.
A red stripe warning flashes across the screen as they argue. Strong winds and harsh flooding in the area are currently occurring. Thunder rumbles.
There’s a sudden shake to the ground as lightning strikes down right next to the camper. It blasts a cloud of dirt and water into the air. The electricity wobbles for a moment... before dimming... and cutting out completely.
They stop arguing about bees.
The only sounds now are their breathing, their heartbeats, and the neverending thunderwinds outside.
Lance looks at Anna to make sure that she’s alright. She completely shuts down, curling up as far as she can into the couch. He can tell that she’s scared. Absolutely petrified, even.
What do I even do?
Lance runs to his room and grabs a blanket from his bed. Freshly laundered. It’s still slightly warm. He comes back to Anna, and settles the blanket on top of her.
She’s sniffling and crying. She doesn’t look up at him, staying in her state.
Lance is silently panicking.
She’s upset. Not at me.
How?? do I comfort?? I can’t do that.
How to comfort???
Lance gives Anna another blanket in his frenzy.
And another.
And another.
Is this how??
Lance looks at Anna, who still stays stuck in her sniffly panic.
That’s not how!!!
I’ve ran out of blankets!! There’s no more!! What do I do?????
He runs back to his room and starts shuffling through his belongings.
Guns? No.
Pillow? No.. it reeks.
Chewable tobacco? No. That’s expensive.
Lance shuffles through drawers as the rain pounds against the windows. Lightning flashes illuminate the room. He’s tossing clutter from his drawers, looking for the perfect item.
Anna’s whimpers only arise the louder the wind becomes. Lance starts to panic as he fails to locate anything. He steps on something soft as he goes deeper into his room, looking down.
Hmm.
He picks it up and runs over to Anna once more, settling the teddy bear near her arms. She immediately takes it and drags it under the pile of blankets to hold and cuddle.
... That was good, right?
He stays quiet. Anna still sniffles and whines, but the bear has seemed to help. It has clumped fur and is quite worn in some parts. She doesn’t care. It’s something.
They both become quiet again.
The rain pounds against the walls.
The wind whines.
The thunder booms.
...
Lance yawns as the salmon fries in the pan.
There’s a river of water beneath his trailer, and his truck is stuck on a hill above the waves. Redpine is flooded pretty badly. They aren’t going to work anytime soon.
Anna is busy drawing away. She’s still bundled within Lance’s blankets, and holding his bear.
They didn’t get a good rest. It was hell to sleep. Lance knew it was sometime after one when they both woke. Anna had a fleet of worried messages from Natalie, and Lance had 3 missed calls from Matt.
“Hey, Lance! You alright? You and Anna didn’t come to work today, and I’m making sure you’re okay! Bye!”
“Hey, uh. Lance, where are you? Natalie’s talking about a bad flood, and she’s worried about you.”
“... You aren’t dead, right? Lawrence, please call me back.”
Lance starts mashing up a pot of boiled potatoes. He calls Matt, putting him on speaker.
“LANCE?”
“Hey. What gives.”
“WHERE ARE YOU??”
“My house. Storm was shit last night. Whole p- neighborhood’s flooded.”
He finishes mashing and scoops a portion into a bowl.
“Is Anna with you??”
“Yeah.”
Lance adds a few drops of olive oil to the fish pan, and sprinkles on a few herbs.
“ANNA’S WITH YOU?”
He puts Anna’s share of salmon into the bowl, and hands it to her. She thanks him and begins to eat with a starving fervor. He doesn’t answer Matt immediately, but rather thinks.
When he drove Anna to work, she mentioned that she fished because she had no money for food. She fished often, because she had nothing but an apartment and 8 dollars to her name. Her paychecks went to rent and bills.
Matt didn’t pay them under the guise that he needed to release the game first.
“I took out a loan for this, I’ll pay you both, promise!”
Matt had a house. Matt had a girlfriend. A wealthy girlfriend. Matt had money. Natalie had money.
Anna and Lance were broke. Living off the land, barely having money for themselves.
Lance hunted to feed himself and his community.
Anna fished, because she HAD to or else she’d starve.
If Matt had paid them. If Matt had given them a wage, a paycheck.
Anna wouldn’t have been out there last night.
In the hellstorm.
She could have died if she hadn’t remembered that Lance lived there. Became deathly ill. Get attacked by animals.
He gritted his teeth as he walked into his room.
“La-”
“Anna’s with me. Anna almost DIED out there last night.”
“Woah! No need to get snippy! Just want-”
“Did you hear me, Rossfield? DIED. SHE COULD HAVE DIED.”
“O.. kay?”
Lance had choice words to say. To talk sense into Matt.
“We both could have been-”
He takes a deep breath through his nose.
“Just. We’re fine. We’re stuck out here until the water sinks.”
“Can-”
“I’m not working outside of the office.”
“...”
“Anna isn’t, either.”
Lance hangs up on Matt and breathes heavily out of his nose. He walks back out into the living room and gets a serving of food for himself.
“... Matt?”
“Matt. Asking me to work.”
Anna chuckles softly and continues her doodling.
“What a dumbass.”
“Right?”