Disclaimer: I do not own Harry, Bob or Murphy. They all belong respectively to Jim Butcher and the SciFi channel.
Author's Note: Thunder storms always put me in a weird mood. I love them and how comforting the sound of thunder and flash of lightning feels when I curl up in bed. Kind of like a lullabye. There is a storm tonight and all I could think about was how some people may not enjoy storms anymore. So I wrote this, hope you all enjoy.
The sky is split by another flash of lightning, followed quickly by an unnatural boom of thunder that I can feel through my feet. The electricity in the air makes the hair on my arms stand up.
I can't stay inside during thunder storms anymore, I haven't been able to since the big one last year. I can't because I know they're out there. Somewhere those two are fighting something dark and deadly while the storm rages around them. So I can't sleep. I have to watch the skies.
I can see them in my minds eye, probably over-dramatized by my imagination. Harry and Bob both soaked through to the bone and bleeding, gritting their teeth to hold against the storm and their enemy at the same time. Harry wielding that ridiculous hockey stick and Bob with his wand.
I sit here because it's all I can do. Because a gun can't stop a nightmare, but I know they can.
The night turns into full daylight for a few seconds and then a clap of thunder so loud I can swear it sounds like a roar of pain shakes the windowpane behind me. And then nothing. All I can do is wait.
Less then an hour later the storm finally calms and the clouds start to drift away until I can see the stars blink back into existence. I'm relieved by that and stand, shaking off the dampness that clings to my clothes from the rain. I'd be able to get some sleep tonight after all.
Because the stars wouldn't show themselves if Harry Dresden and Hrothbert of Baindrigde had lost. They wouldn't dare.