A/N: This takes place after the night of the tornado. We never really saw Lynette and Tom dealing with the obvious issues that they'd have coming out of such a tragedy, so here's my take on the situation. Enjoy. :)

Fear

"We cannot banish dangers, but we can banish fears. We must not demean life by standing in awe of death."

~.~

After the shattering effects of a deadly tornado that had ripped through Wisteria Lane earlier that day, the residents were relieved just to be alive. All along the city streets lie the remains of the twister's path of destruction, brutal and unforgiving. Some didn't have houses anymore, and the precious possessions of the citizens were lying carelessly on other people's lawns, while a select few managed to walk away without any damage. However, beyond the material aftermath, emotional devastation was running rampant.

Lynette Scavo stood on her porch, leaning on the railing in front of her for support as she looked out at the carnage. Houses viciously massacred, the pleasant and wholesome nature stripped away to something that she didn't even recognize. The place that she loved, her home, had been savagely torn apart. It was a sight she could hardly bear.

She closed her eyes, and almost immediately her mind transported her back to the moment she saw Mrs. McCluskey's house reduced to nothing more than a pile of wood and debris, with her husband and children buried somewhere beneath the ruble. Her heart had stopped, and everything she had ever believed in crashed and burned in one blood-curdling, desperate cry for help.

During those long moments that she'd waited behind the police caution line, frantically searching the scene for her family, she had realized something that had never once crossed her mind before. She could lose them. Anything could happen, and with the blink of an eye, they could be gone. They were her everything, and there she was completely helpless. The feeling of relief and joy that washed over her when they pulled each and every one of them from the wreckage was a sensation she was sure she'd never forget.

She opened her eyes and scanned the scene one last time before turning away. She couldn't stand to look at something that was once so beautiful, now diminished into nothing more than a reminder of tragedy. Even her home, which used to be the only thing close to perfect in her life, had been broken. Shards of glass from the broken windows scattered the floor and the roof had to be repaired, but other than that, though, they were lucky.

She paced back and forth along the porch, her arms wrapped protectively across her chest as she fought off tears that were threatening to fall as she caught sight of her children through the smashed windows, snuggled together on the floor of their living room fast asleep. They were still covered with dirt, because obviously they had no running water at the moment. They looked so fragile that it made Lynette's heart ache.

She tore her eyes away from them, knowing that if they were kept there for just one more second, she would burst into tears again. She decided to distract herself by making a mental list of everything that needed to be fixed around the house (and how much it would cost) to keep herself distracted.

She was too busy assessing the damage to hear the slight creak of their front door. Tom stepped out, observing Lynette as she paced casually around the porch, looking at every little thing around her, her eyes showing nothing but indifference.

Ever since the disaster that had taken place, Lynette had been acting differently around him, as well as towards their once-quiet home. With him she was normally very comfortable and relaxed, but tonight she had been tense and guarded, almost cold. He understood that she had been terrified that she would lose him and her children, but what he didn't understand was her strange behavior.

"Lynette, are you okay?"

At the sound of his voice, she visibly jumped, but regained her composure almost instantly. She glanced over her shoulder and said, "Yeah, fine."

"Then why don't you come inside and get in bed?" he asked, taking small, cautious steps toward her. He knew how she could be, and if he forced the subject upon her, she'd tiptoe around it or just storm off and they wouldn't accomplish anything. "We've had a long day."

Lynette snorted, and gave a snarky, "Tell me about it."

"Okay, I was going to let the way you're acting slide because of what happened today, but you're being just a little unreasonable," Tom bit back, slightly hurt by her reaction. But, when Lynette snapped her head around and looked at him with tears in her eyes, his tone softened. "I mean, you weren't the one stuck underneath a house."

Lynette, for a moment, just stared at him with an incredulous look etched on her face. Then, all of a sudden, she walked towards him and began her tirade. "Oh, does that mean I wasn't affected at all? Does that mean that for every second that you and the kids were in there that my heart didn't break and my mind didn't race with the possibility that all of you could've been dead?"

She was standing directly in front of him now, obviously trying not to cry. He resisted his natural instinct to take her into his arms and hold her until he took all of her pain away, because he sensed she wasn't done with her venting. To be honest, though, he didn't know how much more he could listen to without breaking down himself.

"I spent all night standing behind that damn police tape watching, and waiting, and wondering whether or not the six of you were alright," Lynette hissed, her voice rising with every sentence and a few stray tears spilling over onto her cheeks. "And, I realized that if anything had happened to you guys, I would never, ever be able to forgive myself."

"Forgive yourself? What happened today wasn't your fault," Tom stated, his heart breaking as a few more tears made their way down her face, dripping off of her chin, and disappearing through her shirt. "Why would you even think that?"

With a long, frustrated sigh, Lynette backed away from him and sat down onto the porch swing. She rested her elbows on her knees and settled her head in her hands. When she spoke, her voice was muffled and he could barely hear her when she said, "Because I wasn't there."

"Because you weren't there?" Tom asked, moving towards the swing. He was about to sit down when Lynette raised her head to look at him. He'd never seen her eyes hold so much uncertainty. "And, you feel guilty for leaving."

"Of course I do, Tom."

She crossed her arms across her chest protectively as she leaned against the back of the swing, plucking frustratingly at the loose fabric of her jacket as he sat down next to her. For a moment they sat in silence. Unlike a usual night on Wisteria Lane, there were absolutely no sounds to fill the air. Everything was eerily quiet. It made both Lynette and Tom more uncomfortable than they were willing to admit.

"You have nothing to feel guilty about," he reassured as he draped an arm behind her back. "You basically saved someone's life."

Instead of responding to Tom's statements, Lynette leaned her head against his chest and began to cry. "Do you have any idea how scared I was?"

Running his fingers in a soothing pattern up and down her spine, he replied, "I know, honey."

"I really don't think you do," Lynette argued, but in a soft, loving tone. "There was this paralyzing fear that ran through me that I may never see your face again; that I would never hold our kids again."

She tilted her head so that she could look into his eyes, framing his face in her hands as she sternly said, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

For the first time all night, Tom understood her strange behavior. She was still scared she was going to lose him. Her eyes spoke volumes about how she was feeling as they glistened with the cheerless sparkle of unshed tears.

Instead of replying to her statement, he leaned forward, connecting his lips with hers in a silent agreement. He couldn't possibly live without her either. Even if he were to die first, he would be alone in whatever afterlife existed beyond their realm of life. But, he didn't particularly want to think about that right now. Not while he had Lynette wrapped in his arms.

The kiss was soft and lingering, ending with a sigh and a hint of a smile from Lynette. "You really know how to make a girl feel better."

With another resounding, somewhat contented sigh, she stretched out on the swing and rested her head on his lap, once again eyeing the shambles that was Wisteria Lane. She thought she had begun to feel at ease about this whole situation, but she knew it was a scar on her heart that she'd have to live with forever.

She already didn't want to ever leave Tom or her children's sides ever again. She knew her nerves would create a problem in time if she didn't nip it in the butt now, before it got out of hand and she was following them around everywhere they went. But, just for tonight, she figured maybe she could succumb to the growing need in the pit of her stomach to be right beside them and hold them all in her arms.

"You wanna go inside and get some sleep?" Tom asked, absentmindedly drawing patterns down the length of her spine.

"Yeah, sure," she answered as she sat upright, stretching her sore muscles before standing. "We can just lay down in the living room with the kids, since the upstairs is out of order."

"You can have the couch," Tom offered as he got to his feet and walked slowly towards the door. "I know you're exhausted."

Lynette contemplated it for a few seconds as she stepped into her home and looked over the back of the couch at her sleeping babies. Porter was lying back to back with Preston, whose arm was laced protectively through Kayla's (the only real bond they've ever shared). Parker was slightly separated from them, with Penny wrapped securely in his arms, snoring ever so lightly. It almost brought a tear to her eyes seeing her boys being so on guard for their sisters.

"Nah, I'll sleep on the floor with all of you guys," she answered as she entwined her fingers through his and led him to the pallet of blankets that aligned their living room floor.

They lay down next to each other and he wrapped her tightly in his arms. She could feel Parker's rhythmic breathing on her back, and, in a weird way, it calmed her. As long as she felt the steady rise and fall of his tiny chest, she knew that he was alive and safe.

She could sense a change in the way she saw her life; the way she saw her family, her friends, her home. She had realized today that she had been taking everything around her for granted, and that another day with all of the people she loved, on the street that she adored, wasn't a guarantee. The thought that she could and would eventually lose them someday terrified her beyond words.

As much as she wished sleep would overcome her and take away the retched pain of her reality, she knew it would be near impossible. She lye there for almost an hour, thinking of every little detail of that day; trying to get the cat out of the basement, saving Mrs. McCluskey, seeing the house completely in shambles, watching with relief and anticipation as they pulled her family from the wreckage, the pain and grief that poured over her when she realized Ida hadn't made it.

It was too much. She wanted to get up and do something, somehow distract herself from the thoughts running uncontrollably through her mind, but at the same time a gut-wrenching, paralyzing terror drenched over her when she thought of leaving Tom and the kids for even a second.

She was going to eventually get over this. That is what she continued to tell herself as she let her eyes flutter shut and she let the familiar scent of her husband comfort and lull her into a slumber that she thought would never come.

She knew that when she awoke in the morning, she would force herself to separate from them, even if it was for just a little while to assure herself that everything would eventually go back to normal. She would worry the entire time, and paranoia would ultimately win over her stubborn need to feel in control of her anxieties.

However, in the still silence of the night, Lynette didn't try to fight it. She fell asleep to the feeling of unreserved fear gripping her insides, and tugging her into the depths of dread that she didn't even fathom was possible.