A/N: This is what happens when a huge thunderstorm rolls through while I've got Boys Like Girls' "Thunder" on repeat (after having it stuck in my head for half a day). I know it's not Mizard or Walkin', but I hope you like it anyway.
A/N: The words in italics are the lyrics to "Thunder". Outside of quotes, they're thoughts. Inside of quotes, they're dialogue.
A/N: As Darkest-Hearts pointed out to me, I forgot the disclaimer. So here it is: Superstars and song: Don't own. I like borrowing them, though! :D
Thunder
Tell me where to start and tell me something I don't know.
If there was one thing Phil Brooks knew for sure, it was that he didn't want to be here. He didn't want to think about it anymore. Thinking about it didn't bring him any closure. He felt like he'd been sitting in this church forever, listening to the words of the reverend, hushed and sacred, his sorrow eating at him as they rushed past. The tears wanted to flow, but he kept his head down, ignoring the sniffles of those around him. Despite their tears, he was an island of sorrow and misery, unable to connect to a single soul in the room, save one… and that one was beyond him now. The words of a song she'd loved to play flowed into his brain, on repeat, reminding him of how awful this was, how far gone that past was. She used to sing it to him in that silly way that he loved so much.
Gotta find a way out, maybe there's a way out.
But there wasn't, and there wouldn't be ever again. The rumble of thunder outside the church may as well been the sound of his heart breaking, but it still drew an ironic smile onto his lips for the briefest of moments. Nothing to smile about, he knew. Not today. But it still pulled him back into that last morning, the last time she'd been in his arms, singing that song.
Today is a winding road that's taking me to places that I didn't want to go.
This was one that he'd never have seen coming. Not that morning, though now it seemed as though the universe had been trying to tell him.
Today in the blink of an eye, I'm holding onto something and I do not know why.
He heard the shifting weight of the crowd around him, like some restless beast, but he didn't look up. The words droned, an undercurrent to the rain that was now sliding down the windows. Thunder boomed, causing the reverend to hesitate in his speech. Flickers of lightning caught his eye, making him raise his head and turn his gaze to the window.
I wanna let you know how much I feel your pain.
It seemed like the whole world could feel it today, even though he was numb, or… wanted to be. It was the first time he'd ever cursed his straightedge lifestyle. Being numb would be so much easier if he could find his way into a bottle of something. But he wouldn't. She wouldn't want that. If he crawled into a bottle, he'd die there; he knew that for a fact. And even though he felt like death would be a mercy at this moment, he'd rather have the lightning strike him dead where he sat than take a pill or a drink.
Strike me down with lightning, let me feel you in my veins.
He'd teased her about that; how she was the only drug he'd ever need, how they could live forever on their love, how it would shelter them from any storm. And he'd been wrong. He knew that now.
I don't wanna ever love another.
The crowd around him shifted again as music played softly and people began to file out of the church. The hush that had held for so long was breaking as people moved around, toward the doors. He'd felt every word spoken like a nail in his own coffin, little deaths that tore at him even as they took her further from him and made him into someone he didn't know anymore. When he couldn't put it off any longer, he stood with a sigh and headed for the door. The woman he loved was gone forever, but before he could mourn her, he had to walk out the door.
Today I'm on my own.
"Thank you for coming."
Phil tried to smile. "I had to. I had to know…" He lifted his eyes to hers finally. She was even more beautiful than he'd feared in the white gown, new husband by her side.
"I know," she said softly. "Are you… going to be okay, Phil?"
Of all the words that crowded his brain at that moment, he knew there was only one thing he could say. Even if he didn't feel it, he knew she needed to hear it. "I think I'll make it out, you've just gotta give me time."
She smiled at him and nodded. "You'll always be my thunder." For a moment, the spark held, then died. "Take care, Phil."
"You too," he said. Then he was heading out the door, blinded by the rain and his own tears, finally allowed to fall.
So bring on the rain; oh baby, bring on the pain, and listen to the thunder.
A/N: Someday, I'm going to write something that doesn't have Punk in it at all! I swear! (Yeah, I don't believe me, either. He's too much fun to pick on. :P Love you, Punky!)
