Friday Night Lights Drabble-ish Ficlet: Storm
I found this in the files of 'from a while ago,' and I figured I would stick it to my journal like a little post-it. Not one of those neon post-its because those are kind of hard on the eyes, but one of those pastel colored post-its, I think.
Fandom: Friday Night Lights
Rating: PG
Character: Tim Riggins
Spoilers: Post Episode Drabble-ish Ficlet/ character piece following Episode 2.10: "There Goes The Neighborhood"
The sunlight breaking through the clouds was enough to fool the others, easily convincing them that the storm had passed. One after another, they emerged from their cars, lifted their eyes to the sky, and blinked at the emerging brightness with a degree of exaggeration that was almost comical before they smiled, shrugged, nodded to each other in some sort of group understanding, and mocked the weatherman with a dozen lame one liners that have been said one hundred times before in tones drenched in sarcasm.
Life experience had taught Tim a different lesson about the lull in rough weather; the sun was only temporary. The quiet was a blanket of deceit placed over the town of Dillon, luring all into a fake sense of calm. He raised his own eyes to the sky and stared into its depths as the pressure in the air sat heavily on his shoulders, weighing him down once again, trapping him in this world and in the moment.
Riggins could feel the storm gathering around him, trying to push its way inside of him as if it were a part of him, as it if belonged to him and was eternally his burden to bear.
The fury was building, the power was reorganizing, and the darkness would soon be rolling back in again like a freight train to overpower the light and the calm of this grace period---this momentary lapse where the rain had stopped pounding scars into the earth and this momentary place where Tim Riggins knew what it felt like to be part of a family.
Life had drummed a lesson into him until this truth lived in his bones: the chaos cannot be contained forever, and things that make him feel put together? They always come apart.
It was only a matter of time.
***
When the siren started to scream its warning and the thunderous roar started to vibrate up through the floorboards of the local market, most of the patrons stood rooted in shock or followed their biologically embedded instinct to run when danger approached, some for cover, others simply for movement’s sake.
Only Tim moved against the tide of what was expected, away from the temptation of shelter and safety and towards the glass door to watch in fascination as chaos approached, hell bent on destroying anything in its path.
He pushed the door open and watched as the sky turned black and the wind twisted itself into visible form, picking things up that were once of the earth and giving them wings.
Got to know your enemy. Got to respect it. Look your opponent in the eye, acknowledge the strength you find there---and look for a weakness.
The column of destruction curling in on itself and twisting this way and that seemed to lack any vulnerability as it grew in size and strength, feeding off of its own intensity.
Rooted to the ground, he felt a kinship with it that he could not define even as he felt it issue a wordless challenge to him that was all too familiar.
We’ve been here before. Bring it on.
As the tornado approached, the silent face off that he was holding with the storm was broken by the warning yells of the store manager to those who still stood frozen in panic and indecision and too close to the windows.
Turning away from nature’s power and back to the human stage behind him, he met the terrified eyes of Coach’s daughter whose feet were cemented to the floor for an altogether different reason than his own.
Julie Taylor was a sweet kid, an innocent. He would not let the storm touch her.
Fandom: Friday Night Lights
Rating: PG
Character: Tim Riggins
Spoilers: Post Episode Drabble-ish Ficlet/ character piece following Episode 2.10: "There Goes The Neighborhood"
The sunlight breaking through the clouds was enough to fool the others, easily convincing them that the storm had passed. One after another, they emerged from their cars, lifted their eyes to the sky, and blinked at the emerging brightness with a degree of exaggeration that was almost comical before they smiled, shrugged, nodded to each other in some sort of group understanding, and mocked the weatherman with a dozen lame one liners that have been said one hundred times before in tones drenched in sarcasm.
Life experience had taught Tim a different lesson about the lull in rough weather; the sun was only temporary. The quiet was a blanket of deceit placed over the town of Dillon, luring all into a fake sense of calm. He raised his own eyes to the sky and stared into its depths as the pressure in the air sat heavily on his shoulders, weighing him down once again, trapping him in this world and in the moment.
Riggins could feel the storm gathering around him, trying to push its way inside of him as if it were a part of him, as it if belonged to him and was eternally his burden to bear.
The fury was building, the power was reorganizing, and the darkness would soon be rolling back in again like a freight train to overpower the light and the calm of this grace period---this momentary lapse where the rain had stopped pounding scars into the earth and this momentary place where Tim Riggins knew what it felt like to be part of a family.
Life had drummed a lesson into him until this truth lived in his bones: the chaos cannot be contained forever, and things that make him feel put together? They always come apart.
It was only a matter of time.
***
When the siren started to scream its warning and the thunderous roar started to vibrate up through the floorboards of the local market, most of the patrons stood rooted in shock or followed their biologically embedded instinct to run when danger approached, some for cover, others simply for movement’s sake.
Only Tim moved against the tide of what was expected, away from the temptation of shelter and safety and towards the glass door to watch in fascination as chaos approached, hell bent on destroying anything in its path.
He pushed the door open and watched as the sky turned black and the wind twisted itself into visible form, picking things up that were once of the earth and giving them wings.
Got to know your enemy. Got to respect it. Look your opponent in the eye, acknowledge the strength you find there---and look for a weakness.
The column of destruction curling in on itself and twisting this way and that seemed to lack any vulnerability as it grew in size and strength, feeding off of its own intensity.
Rooted to the ground, he felt a kinship with it that he could not define even as he felt it issue a wordless challenge to him that was all too familiar.
We’ve been here before. Bring it on.
As the tornado approached, the silent face off that he was holding with the storm was broken by the warning yells of the store manager to those who still stood frozen in panic and indecision and too close to the windows.
Turning away from nature’s power and back to the human stage behind him, he met the terrified eyes of Coach’s daughter whose feet were cemented to the floor for an altogether different reason than his own.
Julie Taylor was a sweet kid, an innocent. He would not let the storm touch her.