The Storm

[idontneedluck]

The noise is so loud he feels as if he were inside it. Everything in the world is the buzzing thundering crack that rolls impossibly on and on without end until somehow, it does. It fades, but sulkily, a grumbling mutter spreading overhead, a warning that whatever beast is roaring outside isn't at all pleased.

Chirrut lays, rigid as a board, in the very center of his bed. He has been through a Jedhan summer thunderstorm before, but usually then there's some warning, the electricity in the air thicker, the connection more immediate. He would have gone to ground, hidden somewhere small and safe and secure where the noise would be muffled.

The windows of the temple allow in light for those who can see, but also allow the thunder to roll unabated. The bedroom walls are thick and trap the sound, condensing it into the room and amplifying.

It's terrifying.

He pants, tight shallow breaths that fill the air with sound between blasts of terrifying thunder, betraying his fear. He knows, somewhere, that the storm won't, can't hurt him here.

He still freezes like a felix kitten when the next roar of sound comes.

Comments

[iprotectyou]

Ten-year-old Baze has seen thunderstorms like this ever since he was a younger boy, but this is the worst. And he's worried about his friend, Chirrut. He wasn't at bo staff training today, and Chirrut never skips sparring. Master Sheotar will have his head, Baze knows.

So he goes looking for him. He checks the kitchens, the training hall, and even the tumultuous outside. Spattered with rain, Baze starts panicking. Where is his friend?

When he spots Chirrut in the bed, relief sweeps through Baze. He strides over to his friend immediately, but Baze's step slows in the middle of his approach, when he sees how stiff Chirrut looks. "Chirrut?" Baze says softly, touching his inner elbow. "Are you all right?"

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut practically levitates at the touch, a startled strangled yelp torn from his throat. He flails out of reach, or as much as he can before fetching up against the wall.

And then the thunder roars again, obliterating everything in a wall of furious sound.

[iprotectyou]

Baze jerks back, instantly contrite. He hops from foot to foot, clutching his hands together in front of him. "I'm sorry!" the ten-year-old says. "I shouldn't have--are you okay?"

He didn't notice how frightened Chirrut was, and it takes Baze a few moments to realize that it's from the storm. When Chirrut is like this, he reminds Baze of a wet, terrified loth-cat.

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut, finally realizing the hand that touched him isn't some bizarre physical manifestation of the storm, colors darkly. He shoves himself up to sit properly, back straight, head held high.

He can't help, and decidedly ignores, the way he's shivering. He can hear the angry spiteful muttering in the storm overhead, the way it rolls and builds.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" And if his pitch is higher than it usually is... well. It isn't. It's fine.

[iprotectyou]

Over the past three years, Baze has become very used to reading his friend's moods. The larger boy has never seen the smaller one this terrified, but Baze knows Chirrut has his pride. His damnable, damnable, street rat pride.

Baze sighs. It's easier for everyone involved to let Chirrut have his delusions, to pacify that pride, to wiggle around it. Baze sits on the edge of the bed, not taking up much space at all as he pulls his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. "You're fine. But I'm just going to sit here for a while, okay? The storm is pretty bad, and I don't want to be out in it tonight. Or alone."

[idontneedluck]

"No, of c..."

Thunder cracks, close enough that the stones tremble in response. Chirrut goes stone-still, not even breathing as he braces for the blow he feels is going to come.

It doesn't, again.

[iprotectyou]

"Chirrut?" Baze says, grimacing at the way his friend stills, at the way he stiffens. The larger boy starts up a running commentary on his day, thinking he'll just have to distract Chirrut from the storm raging all around them.

"... So, anyway, Elder Koroban was really surprised that you didn't come to sparring, so you'll probably catch hell from him tomorrow," Baze says, prattling on about any thought that enters his head. He steals a glance at his friend, trying to see if he's paying attention. "Imagine if Master Sheotar found out! Well, she probably already knows. I mean, she knows everything. Doesn't she, Chirrut?"

[idontneedluck]

"...yes." Chirrut finally manages, the flush of shame spreading down his neck and under his robes. He knew, distantly, that most other people didn't hide from thunder storms.

Now everyone knows he does.

"Hiding things from her is use..." The rest of the word is lost when thunder crashes again, an overwhelming tidal wave of noise. Chirrut makes an aborted move to cover his ears, his pride warring with his fear.

[iprotectyou]

Baze watches him. He doesn't know what else to do. He scoots a little closer, and carefully--very carefully--lowers his knee so that it touches Chirrut's. Baze just wants to let him know he's there.

"Anyway, I found a new hiding place for food in the kitchen itself," Baze says, stretching, as if the thunder crashing all around them doesn't exist. "It might not be a good one, as it's behind one of the ovens, but I noticed there was a little space behind there that no one touches. We'd have to make sure the food could withstand temperatures, and hide or retrieve it at night, when no one could see us, but that shouldn't be a problem. Right?"

[idontneedluck]

"You're getting better at that." Chirrut agrees, after a long moment. He doesn't quite know what to do with the offered comfort - shame makes him want to reject it, but...

But.

But it's nice not being alone.

[iprotectyou]

Baze smiles at him, small and wobbly. "Thanks," he says, and pats Chirrut's knee. He scoots a little closer on the bed, sitting flush with Chirrut, so now their thighs are touching. "I learned from you. Pretty soon we'll have enough stores that we don't need to worry about making more."

He blinks. "But we can keep making them if you want! I mean, it's not like we need to stop, you know? As long as you want to make them. There will always be more hiding places."

[idontneedluck]

"Relax, I know what you meant." Chirrut huffs in a faint laugh, shoulder-checking his friend. It's also nice, how Baze has been his staunch stash-making ally these last few years...

The thunder crashes again, rattling his bones, and...

He can't take it anymore. He clings to Baze, because he knows Baze isn't going anywhere, abandoning his pride in favor of comfort.

[iprotectyou]

Finally. Baze wraps his relatively large arms around his trembling friend, stroking his head and murmuring to him. "It's all right now, you're safe," Baze says softly, reassuring and solid and there. "I'm here, I'm here, and you're not alone anymore."

Baze will hold him for as long as his pride can stand it, as long as Chirrut needs. The larger boy won't hold it against him when he eventually rejects Baze, either; he knows Chirrut can stand to be comforted only for so long. For now, he's happy to provide what solace he can, a buoy in the midst of a very literal storm.

[idontneedluck]

Eventually he retreats, sitting upright again, though the steel in his spine has melted a bit.

"Sorry." He mutters, but the fierce flush of shame has receded, even if he looks a little hang-dog. "It's just so loud."

[iprotectyou]

Baze takes his hand, squeezing gently. "Ir's okay, Chirrut," he says, and he's sure Chirrut can hear the smile in his voice. "I understand. Storms like this are terrifying. I can't even imagine how much more so it must be for you, what with your superior hearing."

[idontneedluck]

"Superior?" Chirrut echos, sounding ridiculously pleased. "Last week it was 'annoyingly nosy' and..." The muttering thunder overhead grows momentarily, and Chirrut tenses like strained spring. The crash doesn't come, however.

Eventually his muscles unlock.

[iprotectyou]

Baze huffs. He'd fold his arms, but looping one around Chirrut's shoulders is much more important. "I never said you were nosy," Baze says, pursing his lips in an expression he knows his friend can't see. "And if people don't want you to hear something, they shouldn't say it in your presence."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut, despite himself, giggles. He reaches over to smush a hand across Baze's face, erasing the expression there.

"I can hear it when you do that, you know." He points out. "With my superior hearing." Baze may regret saying that one day soon.

[iprotectyou]

Baze already regrets it. To a point. He's glad Chirrut is giggly rather than upset, but Baze knows that his friend can sometimes belabor the point. Well. It's better this way, Baze thinks. Better that Chirrut be belaboring a point and happy, than drawn into himself and miserable--especially through a storm.

Baze shoves his friend, but immediately tugs him back. The larger boy loops an arm around his shoulders and neck, rubbing Baze's fist in his hair in the universal gesture of a noogie.

"Haha," Baze says, his tone only a little flat. What he's about to say is cut off by the loudest thunderclap yet, and he tenses, the arm around Chirrut's neck holding fast.

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut jolts, flinching at the whipcrack of sound, the force of it nearly a physical presence. He learns something, however, as he ducks down.

When Baze's arm covers his ear, with his head tucked against Baze's shoulder... he can't hear the racket nearly as well.

It's almost tolerable.

Almost ignorable.

He freezes, right there, and for a moment the fainter sounds disappaear altogether.

[iprotectyou]

Baze shifts, intending to let his friend up, but Chirrut stays where he is, even moves with him to tuck his head under. Why? Baze doesn't understand--until Chirrut moves again.

"Ohh," Baze says, and disengages from his friend--but only for a moment. He reaches up and covers Chirrut's ears with the larger boy's meaty palms, smiling at the smaller boy. He holds his hands there around Chirrut's face, weathering the storm with him. He doesn't mind holding him like this--it's less than he wants to do, surely, but it's what will best help Chirrut in the moment.

Baze can sit like this all night.

[idontneedluck]

The tension melts out of Chirrut's frame completely for the first time in hours. The relief leaves him boneless, wavering in Baze's hold. His smile, however, is incandescent. He knows these storms can last a day or more, in worst cases - his resolve to endure didn't quite stretch to that imagined threat.

"Thank you." He breathes, content.