Stare Down the Storm
"Alex?"
I turned at the faint whisper, barely audible above the noise of the thunder and pouring rain. It was dark in my room, and the storm had woken me up. I've always enjoyed storms. Probably because they're so chaotic and they never do what you want them to. I can relate to them. I'd been contemplating the strange pattern of trails that the rain made on my window. I noticed how one rain drop started to fill with water, and then ran down the pane in one long, winding path, collecting other rain drops as it went, getting bigger and bigger until I swore it would burst at any second. I had been thinking deep, psychological thoughts (mostly wondering what would be for breakfast) when someone had slipped into my room.
I twisted around in my chair to see . . . Peter? What was Peter doing, wrapped in a blanket, looking so scared, flinching at every rumble of thunder and every flash of lightning? I stood up and went over to him, watching his terrified blue eyes. He stared down at me, his breathing shallow, and his face white. I reached out and touched his arm, concerned. He was shaking. What had happened to him?
"Peter? Peter, what's wrong?" For a second, I had the horrifying thought that he was sick, or wounded.
"The – the storm." He looked down, embarrassed. "I – I'm scared of thunderstorms," he whispered, softly, and looked at me from his six-foot height with wide, little-boy eyes. He continued, in a rush, "I got stuck outside once, when I was four. I was locked out and no one could hear me because of the noise. I didn't know what was happening. I thought the world was ending. I – I would usually go to Susan, but you were closer and – and I -," he looked down, almost ashamed. "– I'm afraid somebody'll see me," he finished in a whisper.
I pulled him to me, and whispered into his chest, "To tell you the truth, I'm scared of spiders." I had never told anyone this, ever. Not even Becca knew.
He looked at me in surprise. "Why?"
"I don't know. I just am. Look at me. I'm sixteen. I'm The Lioness, Daughter of Aslan, Protector of the Four, a Knight of Narnia, and all that, and I'm scared. Of spiders. They've just got too many legs and too many eyes for me."
He grinned, showing me the faint shadow of the Peter I knew, the Peter who wouldn't let a wise-crack go un-said.
"And if you tell anyone, I will personally kill you during training," I finished. He shook his head, still smiling, but then a huge clap of thunder disrupted the moment, and his smile disappeared.
I turned toward the empty fireplace and extended my arm towards it, palm out and already glowing the green of my magic. "Avra." Flames shot from my hands and collected in the fireplace. I pulled Peter over to a chair, and sat him down. I sat in his lap and we curled up together, huddling in front of the fire.
"Sometimes, you have to face your fears. And then other times, you have to stare them down," I whispered.
Peter smiled down at me, and I knew he was at peace.
Fin.
AN: Review!