Title: Thunder

Word Count: 1600~ or so.

P.O.V: Narrative, focusing on a three-year-old Justin.

Summary: A look at the night of Alex's birth and the changes of the world through Justin's eyes.


When Justin was three, his favorite thing in the world was sports. He was still too little to play them but he could watch them on the television with his father and really that was what made sports so special to him anyway. His father, Jerry, would sit down on a couch and pull him up on to sit on his lap and they would stay there for hours being quiet and just watching. Most of the time they watched baseball but not always and Justin never really understood how the game was supposed to be played so it didn't matter much to him anyway. The important thing to him was that he was spending time with his Dad who always seemed so busy downstairs at work or upstairs with his mother, Theresa. This was quality time together to bond and it was nice, even if he didn't understand, because he knew it was his.

When Justin was three he didn't care about knowing things. It didn't matter what a foul ball was or why his father was sometimes so happy when one was called and so upset the next time it happened. All that mattered was they were there and together and he didn't know what he would do if they weren't because he was still young enough to be terrified of thunderstorms without his dad there to protect him - he couldn't possibly fathom the idea of being alone. So when the night came along where his father wasn't there after the first period was over - and after Justin had managed to struggle himself on to the couch without help or slipping off more than once - it was surprisingly terrifying. Slow terror turned to wet tears which became confused wails.

"Justin baby, stop crying what's wrong?" His mother's soothing words and arms wrap around him from behind and he's struggling not to cry because Dad isn't there but Mom is so thunderstorms aren't scary and she must know where Dad is.

"Daddy," he hiccups as he pushes himself as tightly against her swollen stomach as he can, "no' here and game!" He's still little and working on his words but he's sure she'll understand because she's been telling him he's getting better and smarter every day, even if he's still struggling with his t's.

"Shh, hijo," she's whispering to him and he's stopped crying, "Daddy just had a busy day at work, alright baby? He's downstairs cleaning but I'm sure he'll be up here as soon as you can You know how much he loves watching the game with you." Theresa pulls Justin just a bit farther away so she can see his eyes and he's still crying so she wipes at his eyes and sits down next to him with her magazine, "How about this hijo, I'll sit right here and watch with you until he gets up okay?"

Justin nods before scooting over so she can sit and he knows that he's not allowed to sit on her lap so he just pushes as flush against her as he can and turns his head back to the game. It's not as interesting without his father's animated words but maybe it's nice just spending time with his Mom and she's warm so his eyes drift close and he starts to dream.

When he opens his eyes next the first thing he sees is his mother looking at him with worried eyes and the couch feels wet on his hands so he starts to open his mouth to apologize even though he thought he was done with potty training and she cuts him off. "Justin, baby, I need you to go get your Daddy from downstairs okay? Tell him Mommy said we have to go to the hospital because her water broke and he needs to call someone okay?"

Justin takes a quick look at the television and sees the number four so he knows he's been asleep for a while and his Dad still isn't watching with him which feels terrible but his Mom looks hurt so he pushes the thought to the back of his mind. Instead he slides off the couch and runs downstairs as fast as his little feet can take him, which isn't very quickly because Dad always told him not to run in the house. He's still going fast enough that his feet slip out from underneath him the second he reaches the freshly mopped floor of the restaurant and slides dramatically - if painlessly - along the floor until he hits the bottom of the counter.

His father is over him in an instant, simultaneously checking for injuries and scolding him for running on the wet floor. The shock from the fall mixed with worry for his Mom make Justin break out in tears and his father's eyes soften right away before he kneels down next to him and smiles the reassuring I'm sorry, I was worried smile that Justin very rarely sees. He relaxes almost immediately when he sees that look on his fathers face.

"Now then little guy, what's so important that you had to break the rules for?" his father's voice is teasing and suddenly Justin remembers what his Mom told him.

"Mommy. Broke her Wa'er." Then it occurs to Justin what he just said and he starts crying again because his Mom has broken something and Jerry's look has switched from reassuring I'm sorry to Oh no which means something bad has happened, "Mommy okay righ'?" he sobs out and I'm sorry is back again.

"She's okay little guy," Jerry is standing up and reaching for the phone on the counter but doesn't look away from Justin, "I need you to go get your coat and boots though okay? I need to call Mommy an ambulance."

The tears come back to Justin's face at the word ambulance because he doesn't know a lot but he knows that ambulances mean bad things are happening and his Mom has always said she hopes she never needs one. Jerry, for his part, catches on to the mistake right away and cringes before weighing the options in his head and sliding a quick glance at the spiral stairs leading up to where his wife is waiting.

"Did I say Ambulance? Silly me. I meant Taxi. Can you go upstairs and put your coat and boots on while I go help Mommy get ready?"

There's a stiff nod and Jerry runs upstairs to get his wife while Justin pulls himself up to walk back around the counter where he had put his boots and coat from last time they went out. It takes him a few minutes of struggling but he's proud of himself for getting his own boots on even if he couldn't do his jacket up all the way. His mother and father come downstairs together, Jerry half carrying Theresa down the bottom steps and Justin stands there waiting for his father to come over to zip up his coat for him because he always does.

There's a few car honks from outside so Jerry starts to help his wife towards the door before turning around to give Justin a look and beckon him over to come with them. Justin just stands there confused though, because his coat isn't zipped up and his father has never let him leave the house without it being closed nice and warmly before.

"Justin, come on. We've got to go now."

His father is still walking towards the door with his mother instead of turning around to help him do up his coat and Justin understands that even less than he understands foul balls so he tries to do up the zipper himself but it's just too hard and his fingers are too small.

"Just leave it, Justin. We don't have time for this." Jerry's voice echoes authority and exasperation instead of the usual patience and love that Justin is so used to as the doors to the Sub Station are opened and Theresa half stumbles as the wind begins flowing inside. It's confusing for Justin and he decides he's overwhelmed and he'll cry later so instead he just runs to and out the door - wearing his boots now so he won't slip on the still wet tile - as fast as he can into the rainy Manhattan weather.

"Really Jerry?" his mother is groaning indignantly at the bright shining 804 sign on the top of the Taxi.

"I'm sorry! I didn't want to make Justin any more upset!" His father is opening the door for his mother and helping her get in the back of the cab and suddenly Justin feels as small as he's ever felt and he thinks he's gotten his dad in trouble without ever meaning to.

"Well sometimes it's not all about Justin!" His mother's words are whispered, angry and Justin is sure she doesn't think he's heard them so he keeps biting back tears that he's had all night as his father sits him down next to the stranger driving and goes to sit in the back with his wife.

Justin has never sat in the front alone before, especially not with his coat unbuttoned and certainly not after watching sports without his Dad. Not all about Justin circles around a few times in his head and it becomes so much harder to not cry when he realizes he can't even turn around to look at his parents as the cab speeds up after his father says the words baby, labor and hospital. It's the most alone he's ever felt.

Just to make it worse, he's sure he can hear thunder ringing in throughout the night.

Fin

Notes:

Far too rushed, barely edited and shorter than I'd like at just over 1600 words pure story. I find that Justin, as a character, is too often sidelined as a reactionary character to Alex. This makes sense, of course, as Alex was designed to be the show runner and Justin is inherently more of a second-fiddle straight-man to her shenanigans.

I wanted to take a look at Wizards of Waverly Place through Justin's eyes and explore the sibling - yes, sibling, there will be other things I'll write that will explore Alex and Justin together romantically - relation the Russo children (even Max) create through the years. The original idea I had was to write something exploring Justin and Alex's first major fight because the cliche of "Justin has belonged to Alex since he first laid eyes on her" doesn't really sit that well with me.

I finished that story and decided I needed more background, which is where this story came from. Then I decided 5000~ words (between two stories) didn't do Justin nearly enough justice.

I think this idea in particular is up to seven or eight chapters now. Hopefully you'll enjoy them.