Summary: A girl explains thunderstorms and how her dad took care of her during them. Character death mentioned.
Word Count: 1374
Disclaimer: I don't own The Big Bang Theory or the characters. Only one, the narrator of this particular story!
I always hated thunderstorms. But he always made them so much better. It became just light to me, those storms. The noise went away, even if it was for a while. I couldn't hear it, but I could feel my heart beat faster and faster as the time went by, my breathing would rapidly fasten and I started to feel my hands getting sweaty.
And then he would show up.
I never understood how he was so understanding, how he made the lights so pretty. But now, as I am a bit older, I feel like thunderstorms are sweet and comfortable. Because I imagine him holding me as if I was still a baby, I feel his warm, strong arms against me, him protecting me like he always does. It has been this way for too long, and I feel like it should be my job to take care of him since no one else does.
My mom died when I was very young, I barely remember her. I know how she looks like, there are photos, I know how she was like, I hear stories, and I know how much she loved me, there are videos.
I know she didn't want children, it wasn't exactly in her plans. She didn't feel like she would be a very good one, considering the fact that everything that took hard work, she would quickly pass. But I know she loved me very much from the first moment she saw me wrapped in those hospital blankets that every baby is wrapped in.
There's this story my daddy used to tell me when I was younger. It was about how my mom was scared of a lot, especially losing people. That's why she tried not to get close to people. He used to tell me that it took a lot for her to give birth to me. She was terrified that something was to happen to me, and she would lose me. He never found out whether she was scared of losing me for her, or for him.
But she was still scared.
Maybe as scared as daddy was when mom got sick. I was young, I didn't understand what was happening. I just knew that mom was sick, but I initially thought it was more like the flu and not something that would take her away from us. But it did.
I didn't understand what happened, even after her funeral. I think the funeral confused me even more, even though I don't remember why now. I just know it did.
I realized it when I got home from school, maybe a couple of weeks later, maybe longer, and I had a present I made for mother's day to give to mom. I walked around the house looking for her and didn't find her. My dad finally asked what I was doing. The look on his face is still present in my memories. I know he tried not to cry in front of me, he still doesn't like to. But he did, and that's when I noticed I said the wrong thing.
He pretended to be strong for me every year after that moment.
And once I understood that I reached a conclusion. I figured out why daddy protected me from thunderstorms.
Because mom did the same for him.
Because mom was the one that held him, the one that soothed him. The one that said sweet nothings into his ear to make him fall asleep. The one that hugged him tightly against her chest, the one who's beating heart would put him to sleep. The one that probably made him feel like thunderstorms could just be a light show.
I'm older now, old enough not to be held by my dad as thunder lights the whole sky. Old enough not to shiver as I hear another thunder, but still old enough to drive to my old home to be held by my dad.
As I arrive there, it's like he's awaiting me. My favorite blanket is already on the couch ready to be thrown on my shoulders, soft music is in the air, cookies are on the table.I don't need to say anything when I knock on the door, I'm immediately allowed in.
He holds me tight as the light enters my eyes, and I shut them as hard as I can. I know he's crying without looking, he always does that. Never knew why, and I'm old enough to know not to ask any questions. Because it was supposed to be mom in his place, in mine it should be him. Because she should be here to comfort us.
Because she should be here. Period.
But she wasn't. And I was a painful reminder of that.
Even though I have dark hair, I have my mom's eyes. I'm her, with my dad's hair. Down to the curly hair, the one I somehow remember that she loved. Maybe I know that because I saw it in a video, or I have some memories of her that don't come from videos, photos, and stories I heard.
Don't know.
All I do know is, that my dad loves me so much that he stays terrified to make sure that I don't. He always does this, scares away bad people even if that means they come after him. That was supposed to be her job, you know, scare people away. My dad was the nice, shy one, my mom was the one that would go Nebraska on them. Whatever that means.
I think that everyone but me knows, but that's okay. It's normal.
My family is my dad, of course, but we have more people. My uncles and aunts, Sheldon, Amy – they're married, both were and still are, my parents best friends. Even after my mom died. – Howard, Bernadette – also married to each other, have two kids that are my cousins – and then there's Raj and Stuart. For a couple of years, there Raj was married to a girl, Anu, but it didn't work out. I don't know why I wasn't born yet.
The point is, my dad had a lot of help as I grew up. He and his family weren't very close, but my mom's family and we are. We go there every year, sometimes they come here.
The thunders are over, now is only wind and rain. I slowly come off the caccon my daddy made for me to be safe, and his tears kept falling. That's weird, they should've stopped by now.
"Dad, what's wrong?" I ask, with the sweetest voice I could to make it look like I wasn't scared.
"I-" He stops, for a moment. Don't know if it was to find the strength to talk, or to find an excuse. He finally looks at me and smiles. "Today is your mom and mine's birthday." He smiles again, but now a sad one. "I miss her." My dad finally admits, even though I already knew. It's like he forgets, sometimes, that I lived with him for years and don't know that he cries himself to sleep many times.
"I know, daddy." I smile at him, just to try to keep the tears at bay. His tears keep falling hard, just like the rain outside. "I miss her too." I hug him there, the way I remember my mom did. His cries slow down, but his head is still rested against me. My hands are on his back, trying to console him as best as I can. My mom would've made a better job. She always knew what to do.
They weren't similar. In fact, they were basically the polar opposite. But somehow they found each other. I'm glad they did, otherwise, I wouldn't have one of the greatest parents in the entire world. I'm a lucky girl, my mommy used to say. Because I'm daddy's little girl. I always was, and always will be.
And if that means that I take care of him the same way that he cares about me, then so be it. Because dad took care of me my entire life. And now, it's my turn. I hope I'm ready, mommy. But you were, so... I hope I am as well.
The End
This is a Lenny story but told by Leonard and Penny's child. She's an adult now, but she still needs her dad through thunderstorms. I loved this because it showed the way that Lenny was – before Penny died – and the way that Leonard stepped up and changed to be both a father and a mother. Also, the last paragraph, she was kind of talking to her mom in her head, but not at the same time. She was talking to a bunch of people she used to know and died. Didn't know how to explain it on the story, so here's the explanation, okay?
That's it!