What's up, guys? This will be my last or second to last Coraline fanfic until I get my Cars story up. Oh, and that reminds me I need to update a new chappie for my fans on Toph Almighty. Crap! Oh well. Hope you enjoy this!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Coraline…*sniffle**sob*…
WHY DO YOU MAKE ME SAY THIS SO MUCH, YOU CORPORATE FAT CATS!
Oh the torture.
A Stormy Night's Encounter
Lighting lit up the sky as loud thunder clapped. A storm had moved in out of nowhere, filling the night with endless bouts of rain. Mrs. Lovat sat on her bed, her feet in comfy slippers. The storm and her aching back kept her from sleeping. She rubbed her lower back and sighed. Down the hall, soft snoring could be heard between the crashes of thunder. She smiled. At least someone was getting some rest tonight.
Frankly, she couldn't figure out how anyone could sleep through anything as loud as this. Her grandson had always been a deep-sleeper, but this weather could have kept a sloth from any shut-eye. She was glad his feline friend decided to stay instead of stalking off after supper as usual. The furry cat had been spotted jumping onto Wybie's bed while he was getting ready for night in the bathroom. It curled up and snuggled its face into its tail. Mrs. Lovat chuckled a bit at the sweet memory.
She hoped that the nice pink tulips that pretty little Coraline had helped her plant weren't going to be too beat up by the end of all this. Turning to the window, she could see that the storm wasn't showing the slightest sign of letting up. The rain beat down harder than ever and the thunder seemed to enter every inch of the air. The wind seemed to try and rip apart the cottage, but it stood strong against the unforgiving storm.
Her back pain had dulled down to near nothing as she relaxed. She listened to the sound of rain hitting against the window, the clapping of the thunder, and the frantic pounding on their front door…. Wait, pounding on their front door?
She snapped out of her relaxed stage as she listened more intensely. The pounds were definitely not her imagination. She eased herself up and walked through her bedroom door, down the hall, and straight to the front door of the small cottage. She was afraid and worried who could be knocking at such a time. Just before yelling to ask who was there, she remembered that no one would be able to hear her over the entire ruckus Mother Nature was making. She took a deep breath, yanked the door open, and gasped.
In the horrible storm, stood Coraline, dressed in her bright yellow raincoat. Her short blue hair laid flat against her wet face. Her normally brilliant brown eyes were red, as if she had been crying. She shivered horribly. In a wispy voice, she asked if she could stay there for the night. Without hesitation, Mrs. Lovat pulled her inside and handed her a clean towel from the linen closet to dry off with before closing the front door shut. Even with the raincoat on, her clothes were somehow soaking as well. She ran off to find some old clothes that Coraline could change into. As she shuffled off, she couldn't help but feel grief for the little 12 year old girl in the tiny foyer. Digging through an old plastic bag of clothes meant to be shipped to the local Salvation Army, she was able to dig up a huge t-shirt with a large bear on the front. When she arrived back to the foyer, she found the girl curled into a ball next to the old wicker umbrella holder, balling her eyes out.
Grandma Lovat helped her up and sat her down on the couch before handing her the extra large t-shirt. It had once belonged to Wyborne, but he was too small for it as well. So into the give-away basket it went. Coraline smiled weakly at her before accepting it. The older woman shuffled back down the hall before quietly closing her door. Coraline stared down at the large t-shirt, and then cringed as another painful memory entered her thoughts.
He wasn't sure if he was still dreaming or whether it really happening. Everything was dark and peaceful as it was every night, but as he had started to drift in and out of sleep, he could hear pounding, crying and rain. At first he ignored it and dismissed it as a weird dream. But it was persistent and sounded so real, especially after hearing the front door close and the sound of shuffling feet. Cracking one eye open, he peeked out from the darkness and warmth of his covers, but saw nothing but the black of his own room. He shifted in bed and tried to get back to sleep, which usually wasn't that hard, but once again, the sounds came. This time it was only quiet sobs. And not just any sobs. The sobs of a girl.
Now, Wybie knew plenty of girls from his school. He knew which ones weren't clever at all and those who would be training for cheerleading next year. He knew which ones spent all their time in the library and never could be caught with their nose out of a book. He even knew some of the girls that were actually pretty okay. But there was only one girl that he could call his best friend. Nope, these weren't the sobs of any girl. These were the sobs of Coraline.
Realizing that she was in trouble, he shot up from his original state of sleepiness, grabbed his old baseball ball bat that stood leaning against the wall, and ran to his door. Opening it just the slightest bit, he looked through to see his friend in his living room, not in fatal danger. He released a small sigh of relief, put down his bat, and opened the door all the way. He then walked out towards his friend with a puzzled look stuck on his face. He was confused and worried. What was the problem?
When he arrived next to her, she didn't look up from the pillow she had buried her face into. She laid across one side of the couch, her feet hanging over the right chair arm and her head resting down on the cushions. He sat by her and noticed that she had on entirely too big, familiar t-shirt. He cracked a smile at the funny memories of the wrong-sized t-shirt he had received from his wacky aunt as a birthday present a year or two ago. He glanced down to find two striped wet socks and boots near the front door. His female best friend had been naked in his house. He was glad he hadn't seen her! He was also glad that it was dark in room, so she wouldn't be able to see his blush… if she were to ever take her face off from the pillow.
Wybie sat down uncomfortably and gently took hold of the pillow, tugging it away. At first, she resisted, but gave up, which was very unlike her. That made him really nervous.
But what was worst was the fact that, now with the pillow removed; he could see her tear-streaked face and red eyes. She glanced up and Wybie, grimaced, and allowed another tear to roll down her face.
He had to break the silence.
"Jonesy?" he said, sounding a lot more like a question then he intended. Of course it was her. She looked at him and gave a small grin before sitting up and bringing her shirt-covered knees to her chest.
"Y-you wanna tell me what's wrong?" Wybie asked. He scooted closer to her and let her rest her head on his pajama-clad shoulder. The 12 year old boy never really had to comfort a girl his age before, but he sure was trying his best.
"The nightmares, Wybie. They're-…They're horrible" She answered, her voice cracking the slightest bit. His eyes widened. Nightmares? He hadn't had one himself in a long while. Only deep sleep as far as he could remember. He had read about how some people may be reminded of bad memories when the time of year rolls back to that part of the season. Ashland, Oregon was transforming to spring from winter. Some days were warm and other cold, but for the most part, it was foggy and rainy.
His eyes widened even more in realization. This was around the same time last year when she had moved into the Pink Palace, fought off that crazy witch thing, and survived to tell the tale. Her nightmares must have been about that. He shuddered. They must have been really bad.
"Wybie", she called to him. He shot back down to Earth and found it hard to change his sad expression. He unconsciously squeezed her tighter to him as he remembered that evil needle hand that almost killed him and tried to drag her away. He looked down at the long scar that ran up the side of his arm. His expression went from sadness to anger.
"Wybie!" she called to him again, this time determined to keep him present for good. He smiled apologetically and let up a bit on his grip. He just wanted her to be safe. His eyebrows furrowed. She had run through the storm to get here. She must have really trusted him and his grandma. That must have meant something. But why?
It hit him like a brick. Of course. Both her parents were on a business trip out of town, forcing her to stay with the theater ladies downstairs, Spink and Forcible. He remembered seeing them with luggage bags of their own, chattering endlessly about the war reenactment group they would be traveling with for a few days. Being Coraline, she didn't say anything. Probably just wanted to take care of herself.
"It's ok, Coraline", he assured her, using her actual name, something he rarely did. She smiled at him. She felt more comfortable with him now than she had last year when he tried to sneak around after her.
He noticed that she was no longer with him, but back in the dream world. But this time, judging by the itsy-bitsy little smile on her face, it was an enjoyable experience. He wondered what exactly what it was about, but not for long, because soon his own tidal waves of sleep started to carry him off. He head tilted to the side and rested on top her hers, as hers rested on his shoulder. His arm still hung loosely around her.
"I don't know, little one" Mrs. Lovat spoke to the cat as they both observed the sleeping pre-teens on the couch with tilted heads. "Looks a tad bit suggestive, don't you think? I mean, won't they be a bit embarrassed when they wake up?"
The cat only looked up her, shook its head once, and stalked off towards her bedroom. It stopped to turn around and call her with its sapphire eyes.
"Eh, you're probably right" she shrugged before shuffling after the cat, back to the bedroom, where hopefully, she could get some nice sleep in.
Of course, they were, both parts blushing quiet deeply while walking into kitchen then next morning. But was that was alright.
It had been quite the strange stormy night's encounter.
Hoped you liked! I could've gone into deeper detail, but was mostly too lazy to. Wybie's a good kid, not a perv, so that's why I made him modest about his friend's clothes. Review to get a whole nother' one-shot! Next one will be about Wybie's big motorcycle\bike thingy crash at 14 years old. Haha, you'll noticed I'm just skippin around with ages. I'm trying to avoid pre-Coraline Wybie stories cause we have enough of those, am I right? :3
I say motorcycle\bike thing cause, to tell the truth, I have no idea what it is. It has a motor… but he has to use the pedals to get it started. Confused…
Oh well! Have a great day and don't forget to review!
