Thanks to those who enjoyed Save Me! Here's some more useless fluff! I'll be updating this one more often. Will isn't in this chapter, but he will be in the next one. In this one, Abigail experiences her first storm at Hannibal's house. ~

She found comfort in little raindrops that lightly tapped her window, and of course she loved the smell of Earth after it had rained. One night, Abigail expected a light drizzle, and she put down her book to focus on the rain that poured down.

She shifted in her seat a little when the individual raindrops she could see soon turned to rapid, long strokes of rain. It was raining hard, and the taps at her window sounded like rocks being thrown.

Well, it wasn't all that bad. At least there wasn't any-

A loud crackle and bright light surrounded her room instantly, and Abigail turned white and froze with fear. She wasn't always afraid of thunder and lightning. It started when her and her other father, Garret Jacob Hobbs were out hunting one day. They didn't expect such a storm to occur, but when they were caught in it, their visions were a blur and they lost each other. Abigail was lost for hours in the storm, and each stroke of lightning struck right to her body and she trembled in fear, crying out for someone. The thunder crackled hauntingly at her, teasing her that she was going to die soon. The storm carried on for six hours, though to her it felt like six weeks.

Ever since then, she became the only seventeen year old terrified of a storm.

Abigail trembled as she locked her window, afraid it was going to swing open and take her outside at any given moment. She backed away to the other side of her room, one with no windows, but she still felt uneasy.

She heard Hannibal hum a tune as he placed linens away in the closet. She ran out of her room and towards him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

"My my, Abigail, you look like you've seen a ghost." He told her, his free hand rubbing her back as the other put away the last of the sheets.

"It's scary outside." She replied rapidly. She knew she sounded childish. She knew she wasn't acting her age, but in this situation she didn't want to.

"Would you like some hot chocolate?" Hannibal took her hand, and as they walked to kitchen. She was close to him, and eased a little when they reached the familiar counter top. She took her usual seat, and was calm until the noise happened again, and she shut her eyes tightly.

"No, I want it to stop." She pouted, mostly saying it to herself. Hannibal's lips pursed, and decided to take a stab at humor.

"Alright. Let me just call the men in charge of the weather." He picked up the house phone and dialed six random numbers, and Abigail eyed him intently. Hannibal placed the phone to his ear, and waited a while, glancing at the teen who formed a small smile.

"Oh! Yes hello, my name is Hannibal Lector, and I'd like to know what is the meaning of this weather tonight?" He looked back at Abigail, who was utterly amused by the fake conversation. "Ah, yes, I see." He left some room in there so that the pretend weatherman could talk. "Well, this is scaring my daughter, and I do not want her to be frightened, you see." Another pause. "I am making her hot chocolate."

Abigail released a tiny chuckle at the last comment.

"Ah, yes. Have a good night too." Hannibal hung up the phone and placed it back on its charger. "The weatherman says that the storm will go on for a while, but they will try to tone down the thunder and lightening." He told the girl, taking out supplies to prepare the treat.

She laughed, something she never thought she'd do during the storm. "You're funny, Papa."

Hannibal gave her a sincere smile. "Why thank you, sweetheart, the humor is there for people who appreciate them." He was just about to take out the tin of exotic chocolate when the power went out. Abigail produced a vast shriek and trembled in fear.

"Oh, Abigail, I'll go downstairs to see if the generator still works." Hannibal turned to leave, but when Abigail's eyes adjusted to the dark, she leapt down and took his arm.

"I'll go with you, Papa!" She sounded so terrified, it pained Hannibal. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"You're so sweet, my love." He replied as he lead her to the basement, hoping that she didn't see the smile crawl on his face at her attempt to sound brave.

"I wish Daddy was here. He knows a lot about fixing stuff." Abigail mentioned as they frantically crawled down the steps to the basement.

"I wish your father was here too." Though Hannibal wanted him for something else other than fixing the generator. Will had gone back to New Orleans to visit his father who was in the hospital. But it was a mere scare, and the older man was doing well.

"Besides, I think you just need to press a button," He trailed off, feeling the table for a flashlight. When he found it, the small item illumined a wide range, and Hannibal walked over to the machine and knelt down in front of it.

"Ah! See, here we are." He pushed a red button, but the machine didn't move.

"Maybe you need to plug it in." Abigail said, immediately realizing why that wouldn't work. The thunder rose again, and it even shook the whole house.

"Hannibal." She groaned, holding herself and speed walking to be right by her father's side. Hannibal felt and studied the bright colored machine, but alas, he was clueless as how to work it.

"Oh, I forgot to put gas from the last time!" He groaned, feeling utterly foolish. "Oh Abby, we'll have to put up candles tonight."

"No! What about the circuit board?" The girl's legs were shaking, and she held onto the man's arms.

"See, love?" He showed her the grey board right in front of them, and pulled a few switches back and forth. "We have to wait until the storm passes."

Abigail nodded, and they walked back upstairs, easily now since he carried a flashlight.

"Is it okay if we just go to bed now?" Abigail peeped, still holding onto Hannibal for dear life.

"Of course." Hannibal was glad. He was feeling a bit tired anyway, and didn't feel like wasting good scented candles on a situation that wasn't romantic.

They threw on their night clothing, Abigail feeling paranoid and spotting various sections of Hannibal's room to see if a giant cloud or lightning were going to come in and take her away. As soon as she buttoned up her shirt, she jumped in Hannibal's bed and wrapped herself in his sheets, the tighter the better.

He helped her, and she gave him an appreciative smile through her scared state. "Oh, Abigail. I don't like seeing you this way." He smoothed out some of her hair.

She looked away from him, embarrassed. "I don't like thunder or lightning." It sounded like an abnormal fear, but Hannibal didn't bother to look into it tonight. Instead, he crawled beside and hugged her.

"You look like a tiny caterpillar, you know." He chuckled at her, rubbing the side of her back. She was wrapped in sage green sheets, almost like a bundled infant.

"Will I be a beautiful butterfly?" She asked, sounding even cheesier than she had originally intended.

"Of course, my love." Hannibal planted a kiss on her forehead. "You are one now."

Another roar of thunder shook the house, and several bolts of lightning illuminated the room. But she didn't stir, and she didn't shake. Abigail closed her eyes lightly, and drifted off to sleep.