A/N: I apologize if this idea has been used before. It is rather unoriginal, but I thought it'd be cute. Anyway, this is slightly Wilt/Frankie. Nothing strong (hell! It's fluff! I don't (metaphorically) have the balls to write anything stronger than that at the moment), but still Wilt/Frankie. If you don't like this pairing, than I suggest that you click that nice arrow button at the far top left of your screen. I'm not in the mood to have my review box filled with comments that say "zomg wtf wilt iz teh imaginry and franky iz teh human! dats digusting!111 ur sik!11111 omg lol wtf". And if you still must flame me, at least let it be readable.

I own nothing. If I did, Foster's would probably end up on Adult Swim.

The windows were locked tight, the curtains pulled closed to their fullest. Thunder cracked loudly and rain pelted her window dangerously, as though it was trying to get in. Trying to get her. Frankie Foster, the only remaining resident of "Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends" awake, pulled the blankets closer to her face and ears, trying to drown out that all too familiar sound. Wincing and squeezing her eyes shut as the next, slightly louder crush came, she tried her hardest not to let that one stray tear fall from her eye. Quickly wiping her eye, she managed to catch before it decided to escape. Frankie bit her lip, she hated showing weakness, even when she was alone.

"I won't cry. I can't cry."

Biting her lip again and wincing as the third crash came, Frankie was trying even harder than before not to cry. Crying was a sign weakness, being afraid of a thunder storm at the age of twenty-three doubly so. Frankie shook her head, realizing she wasn't going to be falling asleep anytime soon. Sitting up in her bed, blankets drawn close to her chest, she waited for the next flash of lightning. When that finally came, she started counting.

"One onethousand, two onethousand..."

The crash came, causing Frankie to nearly jump right out of her pajamas. That meant it was well less than a mile away. So in that case the next one would be even closer, right? Right? Then what? Frankie tightened the grip on her blanket and rocked slowly, trying her hardest to stifle her never-ending sobs.

"No more. Please... just no more..."

CRASH!

It was that crash of thunder the caused Frankie the most harm, taking her by complete surprise. She let out a small shriek, followed by a thump as she fell out of her own bed. Realizing what she had done almost instantly, she clamped her hand over her mouth and blushed.

"Crap," she hissed softly, every muscle in her body tensing up. She didn't dare to move as she listened carefully to the sounds of the house, hoping no one had heard her. After a good minute and no sign of anyone, human or imaginary, Frankie relaxed a bit and pulled herself back into her bed. She gave a weak grin, shaking her head in disbelief at her own silliness. It was just a thunder storm, a silly little thunder storm. Nothing could harm her, she was safe and sound inside her room in her house. Besides, the storm seemed to be dying down, much to her relief. Perhaps now she could finally get that well deserved rest she needed ever so much.

"Frankie, was that you?" this was followed by some footsteps. "Are you okay?"

Frankie froze. Brilliant, just brilliant. Someone had heard, and that someone just HAD to come and check it out. Gnawing on her bottom lip anxiously, Frankie contemplated all the excuses she could tell the unwelcomed guest.

"I had a bad dream. I fell out of bed. I got caught in my blankets. I-"

Frankie was so caught up in her own thoughts, she barely noticed the next flash of lightning, followed by that infamous bang. Frankie cringed, it just had to start up again at the worst time possible. She sniffled, trying desperately to wipe away the tears that just kept coming with the sleeve of her top.

"Frankie," the footsteps came closer until they finally stopped in front of her door. "I'm sorry, but I really need to know if you're okay or not."

Frankie tried to answer with the "I had a bad dream" excuse, but it ended up coming out as more of a whimper than anything else. Finally realizing something was truly wrong, the guest took it upon himself to open the door and let his lanky form in, catching his one good eye on the sobbing, shaking girl.

"Frankie, I'm sorry but what's wrong?"

"Wilt," she muttered feebly, refusing to make any eye contact with him. "I..."

CRASH!

Frankie emitted a small scream, immediately pulling the covers over her head in an attempt to block out everything. Perhaps if she stayed still and didn't make a sound Wilt would give up and leave, she thought as she clamped her hands over her ears and hummed quietly to herself. Much to her chagrin, Wilt was not going to give up that easily, and he was going to talk to her one way or another.

"Frankie," he spoke softly, walking over to the breathing lump and putting his hand on it, which in response flinched. "Are you..." he paused, trailing off. This was an emotion he hadn't see from Frankie in many years. Wilt had watched her grow from a shy, cute little girl into an independent, strong woman. Frankie was afraid of very few things, so why was she so frightened of a little bit of thunder? Sure, she'd been afraid of it as a little girl, but Wilt was sure she had gotten over it a long time ago.

Or had she?

"Frankie... please tell me... why are you so scared?"

"It killed them..." came a muffled replied, causing Wilt to recoil a bit in surprise. "It killed them and I was there."

"Frankie... I-I'm sorry but I don't understand," he responded, his voice full of obvious strain and confusion.

"It killed them," the voice repeated, this time significantly louder. "I was there and it killed them and I watched."

"Killed them?" Wilt muttered, half to himself, half out loud. "Killed... them?"

Wilt thought for a moment. What on earth did she ever mean by that? Perhaps she had a bad dream and was still half asleep. It must have been something like that, she was making absolutely no sense. Yes, it had to have been a dream, what else could it possibly be?...

His good eye suddenly widened in astonishment. He understood.

"Oh god..." he breathed, covering his mouth. Unbelievable, how could he not have realized?

Frankie was only three years old the night her parents died in a car crash, broadsided by a trucker. She was with them, but miraculously only suffered a few minor injuries, which were easily treated by doctors at the hospital. However, no doctor could ever cure her of the mental trauma she had suffered that night. She had seen what happened through her own innocent eyes. She, a little girl barely out of babyhood, had seen her own parents gruesomely die right in front of her...

That all happened the night of a thunder storm. One of the worst the city had ever gotten.

Wilt closed his eyes and sat down on the edge of the bed. He finally understood why for so many years Frankie would come crying into his room, begging to sleep with him. He had always thought of it as a simple childhood phobia, but it was just so much more complex than that.

"Frankie," he soothed, slowly rubbing the sobbing girl's back like he did back when she was just a small child. "It'll be okay, I promise. I'm here, you don't have to be scared."

"Wilt..." Frankie whispered softly, peeking her head out from under the blankets. "Wilt I-"

CRASH!

Frankie exploded from the blankets, throwing her arms around the startled friend's neck and pulling him down onto to bed. Slightly baffled, Wilt just lay there, allowing the girl to bury her face in his chest and cry haplessly. Bewildered and blushing, it took him a good thirty seconds until he placed his long, red hand on her back, continuing to rub it. As he did so, a small grin spread across his face. He couldn't help but slightly enjoy having her near him like this, although he wouldn't admit it to her. At least not at that moment.

"Shh, Frankie. Don't cry. It's all gonna be okay. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

Frankie sniffled, nuzzling him slightly as she inhaled his masculine smell of sweat and cologne. Out of all the imaginary friends, Wilt was and always would remain her favorite. He was always kind to her, always played with her as a child, no matter how stupid or how degrading the game was. He was always there when she was scared, holding her and telling her things would be alright. As she grew older Wilt became less of a playmate and a nanny and more of a man she could confess her problems to. He'd never laugh at her or ignore her or call her names like stupid, ugly, and freak like so many of the boys did at her school. He was there, he'd listen, he talk to her and give her advice and treat her with true kindness and kind of respect a girl wishes to be treated with by a man. If only you were human...

"Wilt?" Frankie sighed, pulling her face away briefly to wipe her eyes.

"Hmm?" he grunted, stroking her long, red hair gently. It felt nice.

"Don't leave me," she said in a stifled sob, causing Wilt to give her a look of complete astonishment. "Please Wilt, promise me you won't leave me."

Wilt blinked. What could he say to her? That someday some bratty little kid would likely come and adopt him? That somewhere there was a child who needed him more than anything? He'd done a good enough job of managing to make himself scarce the past twenty years, but still. Wilt looked down at Frankie, who was curled up next to him, staring up into his eyes innocently, waiting for an answer. Wilt closed his eyes and sighed, wrapping his long arm around her waist and pulling her warm body close.

"I-I promise Frankie," he whispered into her ear, sending pleasant tingles down her spine. "I won't leave you. I promise."

Frankie closed her eyes and smiled, satisfied with the answer.

"Thank you," She whispered, leaning her head against his chest. She hardly noticed the last crash of thunder as she fell asleep beside him.

He wouldn't leave her. At least... not now.

Well there you have it. Yeah, I know the writing was a bit sucky at some points, but I'm trying. Besides that, I hope you Wilkie fans somewhat enjoyed that. Sorry that it was a bit short, I'm not too good at writing very long fanfictions if you haven't noticed yet. XP

And yes, I realize Frankie hasn't really shown any fear of thunder storms in the series, but I thought the idea would be cute and I wanted to use it.