Dark and Stormy Night

A family finds comfort during a spot of bad weather.

The house was quiet; nearly all of its occupants slept soundly. Such was not the case for everyone, however. Scott Summers lay awake in bed, listening to the cold, hard rain pound against the windows. A flash of lightning tore across the sky, and he shivered slightly. He'd never been particularly fond of thunderstorms, especially at night. Next came the thunder, sending another chill down his spine. Usually he would be able to lessen his discomfort by making some sort of joke about Storm abusing her power, but such was hard to do, knowing she was sleeping. Eventually, the noise woke his wife, who had been resting next to him.

"Wow," Jean whispered, "listen…it's really coming down out there."

"Yeahthrilling," her husband answered, perhaps a little more hesitantly than he would have liked. His tone intrigued her.

"Have you always been this afraid of thunderstorms?" she asked, reaching for his hand. He was indignant.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Another flash, and he squeezed her handtight.

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about." Defeated, he gave her a lopsided smile.

"Okay…okay…so I'm a little freaked. But hey…need I even mention how you get in the presence of a spider?" Now she had been beaten.

"Fair enough." It was quiet for a while as the young couple listened to the storm rage on outside. Truthfully, both were grateful beyond words that the other was there. Neither wanted to be alone this night. They were connectednot only by their very hearts and souls, but by their minds, as well. Jean finally broke the silence. "So, what'd you do when you were a kid and it was like this?" He thought for only a moment.

"Same thing every other kid doesgo crash with Mom and Dad. On really bad nights, I'd usually head in there first…my kid brother Alex would come about five seconds later. All four of us in a queen-size bed…I wouldn't trade those nights for anything in the world… " Scott's voice was nostalgic, but it carried a twinge of pain; he missed his family greatly. The woman laughed, trying to picture her husband as a young boy.

"Awww…it sounds sweet, hon." Before another word could be said, the bedroom door opened. There stood Logan, clothed in nothing but a pair of jeans.

"Hey," he whispered, "you guys awake?"

"Sure…now we are," Scott answered, "is the mighty Wolverine afraid of a little thunderstorm?" He couldn't resist teasing his friend. The other rolled his eyes.

"You wish, Summers…I ain't scared, but somebody else is." Scott watched as a little girl poked her head round the corner. It was his daughter, Rachel. The child clung to Logan's pant leg. "She came into my room and said she couldn't sleep, so…I decided to take her to see her folks," he explained. Jean took pity on her daughter.

"Did the storm wake you up, baby?" The girl said nothing, but nodded. "Would you like to stay in here with us?" Nodding again, she climbed into the bed.

"Thanks," Scott told the older man. He then turned to his daughter. "Say goodnight to Uncle Logan," he instructed.

"Night-night, Uncle Logan," the four-year-old repeated. Logan grinned.

"'Night, kid…see ya tomorrow, guys." And then he was gone, leaving the family of three alone again. Lightning illuminated the darkness, and the child burrowed under the covers, quivering. Her father knew why. Scott held his daughter close; the scent of her skin and hair calmed him more than he could say. She let out the softest of whimpers, but he heard it.

"Shh," he soothed, "…it's okay…I've got you…" The thunderclap seemed to shake the mansion's very foundation. He tried his hardest not to cringe. "And I'm not going anywhere…all right?" She poked her head up.

"Promise, Daddy?" Scott had seen the plaintive look on her face somewhere before. It had belonged to him, years ago. The anxiety that filled her crystalline blue eyes had once filled his own. This is what it was about for him. He smiled.

"Baby, I promise."

"That's right," Jean added, putting her arm around them both, "we're all safe now." Scott thought about the statement, eventually wondering if it had been meant for Rachel, or for himself. Eventually, the weather let up and sleep found them; well, all but one. Jean watched the rest of her family sleep; neither father nor daughter had moved since she had come; the girl was nestled against her Dad, his arm tucked around her, not letting go for anything. She gently caressed them both and kissed them goodnight. Before falling asleep herself, Jean silently hoped that there would be a few more thunderstorms, if they would turn out like this.