Storm (Sticks x Fixer(OC))
Requested bySonicBoomFan4000
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Drip drop, and it started raining. Though on the positive side, Sticks' burrow shouldn't be far away… Fixer hoped. He didn't really feel like sitting in front of a fireplace all day to get his fur dry, so he tried to quicken his pace, pushing through some smaller bushes hindering his way and then running across a stretch of plain ground.
The jungle could best be described as gloomy when it rained, and if you add the thunderclouds and almost dusk, then the weather really wasn't a good sum. Though of course it could be worse – and it still wasn't an actual thunderstorm!
-okay, forget that, he then thought as the first streak of lighting shot across the sky. It rumbled, and then the rain started pouring down like a giant had emptied a bucket over the jungle. Fixer started rushing through the woods, jumping over smaller bushes and logs and swerving for trees which seemed to be everywhere, blocking his way with their vines and branches and -since when were there mushrooms inside the jungle?
-and then he saw a light flickering in the distance, and thought triumphantly, the burrow!
Running past the last of trees and barely avoiding stepping into an already formed puddle, he then sprinted up to the door of the badger's den. He quickly pushed the door open and bolted inside, closing the door after him to not let in any more water.
He then turned around, bright eyes looking for the badger in question… and finding no one.
"Sticks?" He called hesitantly. Maybe she wasn't home…
…wait. He arched an eyebrow and stepped forward, eyes having found her at last, but… "Why are you under the bed?"
The bed moved. Or I mean, not the bed, but like, the badger who was underneath the bed who made the bed move. And then a hand shot out, and two glowing blue eyes peered out at him from underneath the furniture. And Fixer chose to walk up to her, and crouch down in front of the bed. He doubted he would fit under there too, and he didn't really feel like going under there anyway… and also, he was soaking wet, so he was just going to sit here for now.
"Sticks?" he tried again, softly.
She shuffled around, and then she grumbled something. Which he unfortunately didn't hear…
"Pardon?"
She turned to glare at him, and muttered, "I hate lighting. It's awful – awful! Probably some kind of- of g-government plan of-"
Thunder suddenly rumbled outside again, and the badger let out a squeak and withdrew her hand. Fixer realised he had missed his chance at holding it, and then he realised that Sticks was afraid of lighting, and then he realised that he was doing a really shitty job at comforting her.
"So you dislike lighting like my little brother does?" He tried, and laid down on his stomach to look under the bed. There were several boxes and stones and – what is that thing – and of course Sticks, in all her dusty glory. She looked back at him with a somewhat miserable expression, and said,
"Yeah, yeah. I-if you put it that way." She sniffled, and glared at him. And Fixer let out a soft sigh, and held out his hands towards Sticks.
"You could've told me, and I've would've gotten here sooner," he then said.
And Sticks said, "Are you wet?"
"Yes," he said patiently. "But that's not the issue here – you can't hide under there. You'll get dust in your lungs or something."
She looked at him with an expression best describe as 'oh really' and said swiftly, "There's no spies under here."
He blinked at her. And then he let out a sigh, and said, "Well then I'll join you, I guess…" He started to crawl in under the furniture on his stomach, vaguely aware of how all the dust was sticking to him because of the rainwater. Sticks squeaked again, and then she shuffled to the side to leave some room for him…
And he crawled inside, barely avoiding to knock over a pile of ancient boxes. Sticks blinked at him through the dark, her eyes almost glowing, and then thunder roared outside again. Fixer noted how it actually didn't sound as loud under here, and then Sticks squealed again, and he quickly held out his hand again, fumbling for Sticks' hand through the dark.
He found it, and squeezed it reassuringly. And then Sticks didn't say anything, but held onto his hand almost painfully tight, shuffling closer to him. He really hoped now that he wasn't giving them both a cold by laying down here, soaking wet while almost hugging Sticks, but Sticks didn't seem to want to leave… judging by how she held onto his hands, and tried to nuzzle closer every time thunder boomed outside…
"The storm should be passing soon, don't worry," Fixer tried to say soothingly.
"I knew that," Sticks claimed. And then she muttered, "But t-thank you anyway."
And he squeezed her hand as a reply, and then she squeezed it back, and shuffled even closer. And soon, soon it would stop raining, would stop thundering, but just for now, Fixer wanted to be able to comfort her for as long as the storm raged on.
