When Rain Comes [Original, 1/1]
Title: When Rain Comes
Fandom: Original
Characters: Adie, Nick
Rating: PG
Warnings: Not much! Vague (secondary) nastiness that you don't even get to see. OH! AND ZOMBIES.
Summary: Because we just take one step at a time.
Comments: I wrote this because. Well. Dib wanted to write something literary for her Creative Writing class. I suggested zombies. THEN I WAS SHOT DOWN. DDDDD: Obviously, then, I needed to prove that you could write something literary-ish with zombies and not have it be like some sort of horror movie or something. Well. I tried, anyway. 1460 words. XD
Nobody went out when there was rain. As soon as the first heavy clouds formed people hurried inside, legs going double time, knocking on stranger's doors and asking for brief respite. They ducked into shops and restaurants, doors barred shut as soon as the first drop falls down.
The world held its breath when it rained.
Angie slumped by the door and watched the water slap down the reinforced glass of the small window, dripping down and washing away the slight film of dust that stubbornly lingered. There would be streaks by the time the rain was over, but it would be a lot cleaner in the end. The rain wasn't good for much else.
Thick sheets of water sluiced over the glass, like a tiny river in the making. She turned away from the door and walked back to the sofa. Then she sat down and poured herself a drink, scotch, even though it was only three in the afternoon. Angie gulped it down like it was orange juice, but didn't pour herself another.
They had told her that things would get better. That this town was safer than most. Nick had smiled at her, broad and happy, and said that things would be just fine.
"Things are just fine," she said to herself.
The house shuddered. Scratching noises were at the door, barely audible through the sound of the rain. Angie wondered if she left the cat out, except it was too late to go look for Lin. Lin would be fine, she hoped. The cat knew when to hide and didn't animals have a sixth sense about these things? Lin was, probably, just hiding under the bed upstairs, or perhaps playing in the bunker again.
Angie collected her glass and went to the kitchen, humming tunelessly under her breath. She stopped when she realized that she was trying to match the beat of the thuds at the side of the wall.
She shook her head, brown curly hair flying into her face, and gave a wry grin at the stove before dumping her glass at the counter, where it stood like a lone soldier. Her feet slid into an easy rhythm as she glided to the refrigerator -- they had some leftover casserole, didn't they? -- then towards the sink -- rotten milk, phew -- and back towards the refrigerator again.
The phone rang as she was staring down at a suspicious mishmash of meat and vegetables, and she answered it with a preoccupied greeting.
"Honey?"
Angie smiled. "Nick! When are you getting home?"
"They said the rain'll stop soon. It'll be slow going home, Rudolph had an accident." His voice was low, comforting to the ear.
She cradled the phone on a shoulder and made the appropriate sad sounds. Then said promptly, "Bad?"
"We're not sure yet." Through the receiver, she could hear the soft buzz of words in the background, of people complaining and someone moaning.
"Hmmm..." she said.
"Lock all the windows and the door? Have a bat nearby?" he teased. "Remember to feed Lin?"
Angie huffed out, "Of course! And Lin," she cast an eye around. Then said, finally, "She's fine too. I think she's on our bed." She wasn't exactly lying. Lin could be on their bed. She hoped Lin was on their bed.
Nick's laughter was like sunlight and she eagerly soaked it up. "Good. I'm going to go see what I can do for Rudolph and maybe this rain will lighten up."
She looked towards the far end of the room, through the small, cramped window and said brightly, "Looks to be getting better!"
She could hear the smile on his lips. "Then I'll see you soon."
"Bye!" Angie chirped and disconnected. Talking to Nick always made her feel better, even when she wasn't feeling sad in the first place. That was one of the things she loved about him.
~
The hard splattering of rain on the sturdy roof slowly dwindled. The scratching stopped soon after the rain did, and Angie looked up from her book and sighed. Her shoulders felt cramped. Too much ducking down to read, she decided, and resolved to go take a brisk walk tomorrow. Maybe bribe Nick into giving her a shoulder rub. As far as she could tell, Nick had magic fingers.
She got up and put down her book, moving towards the door and peeking out at the dewy world outside. Mud was everywhere, thick and goopy, and her flowers... She felt tears prick at her eyes. She had worked hard to raise those flowers. Once vibrant pinks and purples and blues were now battered into the ground, delicate petals mashed into mud, everything turned brown. All of them were ruined and trampled.
Angie wiped at her eyes and shook her head. There were more flowers to be found. They were getting a bit expensive now a days, harder to raise and all, but she knew that Nick wouldn't begrudge spending a little money in order to try to raise a garden. Just a tiny one. Just some pretty flowers.
She sniffled once more and wiped at her eyes with the corner of a sleeve. Then she put on some boots, grabbed the bat propped up next to the door, and went out. Her boots sank noisily into the mud, but she ignored the squelching sounds.
"Lin?" she called out. "Lin!"
Lin hadn't been in the house, and Angie was worried. The cat had probably just found somewhere cozy to hole up, or maybe had scooted up a tree. Angie smiled faintly at the thought. Lin was good at scampering where she wasn't supposed to. It drove Angie half crazy most of the time, but Lin always came back in the end.
"Angie? What are you doing outside?"
She whirled around and beamed. "Nick!" Angie hurried towards him, gaze sliding past his tired eyes to his rumpled shirt and then muddy shoes. She frowned at him, and vainly tried to straighten his shirt's collar. "You're home too soon."
He laughed and hugged her. She wriggled just out of the way of the club he was holding so that it wasn't digging into her side and hugged him back.
After a quiet moment Angie eased back, looked at the scuffed club, then back to Nick's face.
He had a sheepish grin. "I know, I know."
She frowned. "You could have been hurt!"
Nick tapped the side of his club and she gave a hard look at the dark smears marring the surface, still just slightly damp. "Don't be stupid, Nick!"
He chuckled. "They're not too smart, you know. And not that strong. The only real strength they have is their numbers, Angie baby. Don't look like that."
She gave a small huff of indignation. "You're all right? Not scratched anywhere?" Already her hands were flying over him, turning his head this way and that, eyes giving a closer inspection of his clothes for rips or tears.
"I'm fine, I'm fine." He batted her hands away and smoothed an errant lock of hair of hers behind her ear. "Rudolph didn't make it though."
Angie sighed and squeezed his hand.
Nick just shook his head. "Poor bastard was just too slow. Always told him, they don't wait for anyone to get to safety. Got to pick up the pace. He was older though, and getting over the flu, I think."
"A pity," she said.
"Yes, a pity," Nick echoed, and looked around. "Why are you out here anyway?"
Angie looked at the ground. "Looking for--" A plaintive meow broke through her words, and she jerked her heads towards the small brown tabby cat that struggled through the mud to get to her. "Lin!" She thrust her bat into Nick's arms and bent over to pick up the cat, crooning as she soothed the ruffled fur. Lin nosed at her hand and cried out plaintively, the cat's little 'I'm hungry!' sound.
"Silly girl, where have you been?" she scolded, and touched noses with the muddy animal, ignoring the wet glops of dirt on her shirt.
"Safe on our bed, hmm?"
Angie gave a sheepish roll of her shoulders. She tucked the cat in closer, stroked along the soft neck, and started towards the house.
Nick balanced the bat and club in one arm, and reached out for her hand. He laced his fingers through hers as they walked towards the door, pausing only briefly to survey the damage there and on the siding. "Not so bad." The new scratch marks laced over the old, deep gauging like a crazy web; indents and gouges apparent even on the new, reinforced housing material.
"The dead never rest," Angie said bitterly.
"No," Nick replied, "But neither do we."
He shut the door behind them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So mainly it's a piece about how humans just keep on going. How the strangest things can get integrated into people's lives and they continue on with only a slight hitch in their steps. There's nothing else to do, after all, than to keep on living.
Fandom: Original
Characters: Adie, Nick
Rating: PG
Warnings: Not much! Vague (secondary) nastiness that you don't even get to see. OH! AND ZOMBIES.
Summary: Because we just take one step at a time.
Comments: I wrote this because. Well. Dib wanted to write something literary for her Creative Writing class. I suggested zombies. THEN I WAS SHOT DOWN. DDDDD: Obviously, then, I needed to prove that you could write something literary-ish with zombies and not have it be like some sort of horror movie or something. Well. I tried, anyway. 1460 words. XD
Nobody went out when there was rain. As soon as the first heavy clouds formed people hurried inside, legs going double time, knocking on stranger's doors and asking for brief respite. They ducked into shops and restaurants, doors barred shut as soon as the first drop falls down.
The world held its breath when it rained.
Angie slumped by the door and watched the water slap down the reinforced glass of the small window, dripping down and washing away the slight film of dust that stubbornly lingered. There would be streaks by the time the rain was over, but it would be a lot cleaner in the end. The rain wasn't good for much else.
Thick sheets of water sluiced over the glass, like a tiny river in the making. She turned away from the door and walked back to the sofa. Then she sat down and poured herself a drink, scotch, even though it was only three in the afternoon. Angie gulped it down like it was orange juice, but didn't pour herself another.
They had told her that things would get better. That this town was safer than most. Nick had smiled at her, broad and happy, and said that things would be just fine.
"Things are just fine," she said to herself.
The house shuddered. Scratching noises were at the door, barely audible through the sound of the rain. Angie wondered if she left the cat out, except it was too late to go look for Lin. Lin would be fine, she hoped. The cat knew when to hide and didn't animals have a sixth sense about these things? Lin was, probably, just hiding under the bed upstairs, or perhaps playing in the bunker again.
Angie collected her glass and went to the kitchen, humming tunelessly under her breath. She stopped when she realized that she was trying to match the beat of the thuds at the side of the wall.
She shook her head, brown curly hair flying into her face, and gave a wry grin at the stove before dumping her glass at the counter, where it stood like a lone soldier. Her feet slid into an easy rhythm as she glided to the refrigerator -- they had some leftover casserole, didn't they? -- then towards the sink -- rotten milk, phew -- and back towards the refrigerator again.
The phone rang as she was staring down at a suspicious mishmash of meat and vegetables, and she answered it with a preoccupied greeting.
"Honey?"
Angie smiled. "Nick! When are you getting home?"
"They said the rain'll stop soon. It'll be slow going home, Rudolph had an accident." His voice was low, comforting to the ear.
She cradled the phone on a shoulder and made the appropriate sad sounds. Then said promptly, "Bad?"
"We're not sure yet." Through the receiver, she could hear the soft buzz of words in the background, of people complaining and someone moaning.
"Hmmm..." she said.
"Lock all the windows and the door? Have a bat nearby?" he teased. "Remember to feed Lin?"
Angie huffed out, "Of course! And Lin," she cast an eye around. Then said, finally, "She's fine too. I think she's on our bed." She wasn't exactly lying. Lin could be on their bed. She hoped Lin was on their bed.
Nick's laughter was like sunlight and she eagerly soaked it up. "Good. I'm going to go see what I can do for Rudolph and maybe this rain will lighten up."
She looked towards the far end of the room, through the small, cramped window and said brightly, "Looks to be getting better!"
She could hear the smile on his lips. "Then I'll see you soon."
"Bye!" Angie chirped and disconnected. Talking to Nick always made her feel better, even when she wasn't feeling sad in the first place. That was one of the things she loved about him.
~
The hard splattering of rain on the sturdy roof slowly dwindled. The scratching stopped soon after the rain did, and Angie looked up from her book and sighed. Her shoulders felt cramped. Too much ducking down to read, she decided, and resolved to go take a brisk walk tomorrow. Maybe bribe Nick into giving her a shoulder rub. As far as she could tell, Nick had magic fingers.
She got up and put down her book, moving towards the door and peeking out at the dewy world outside. Mud was everywhere, thick and goopy, and her flowers... She felt tears prick at her eyes. She had worked hard to raise those flowers. Once vibrant pinks and purples and blues were now battered into the ground, delicate petals mashed into mud, everything turned brown. All of them were ruined and trampled.
Angie wiped at her eyes and shook her head. There were more flowers to be found. They were getting a bit expensive now a days, harder to raise and all, but she knew that Nick wouldn't begrudge spending a little money in order to try to raise a garden. Just a tiny one. Just some pretty flowers.
She sniffled once more and wiped at her eyes with the corner of a sleeve. Then she put on some boots, grabbed the bat propped up next to the door, and went out. Her boots sank noisily into the mud, but she ignored the squelching sounds.
"Lin?" she called out. "Lin!"
Lin hadn't been in the house, and Angie was worried. The cat had probably just found somewhere cozy to hole up, or maybe had scooted up a tree. Angie smiled faintly at the thought. Lin was good at scampering where she wasn't supposed to. It drove Angie half crazy most of the time, but Lin always came back in the end.
"Angie? What are you doing outside?"
She whirled around and beamed. "Nick!" Angie hurried towards him, gaze sliding past his tired eyes to his rumpled shirt and then muddy shoes. She frowned at him, and vainly tried to straighten his shirt's collar. "You're home too soon."
He laughed and hugged her. She wriggled just out of the way of the club he was holding so that it wasn't digging into her side and hugged him back.
After a quiet moment Angie eased back, looked at the scuffed club, then back to Nick's face.
He had a sheepish grin. "I know, I know."
She frowned. "You could have been hurt!"
Nick tapped the side of his club and she gave a hard look at the dark smears marring the surface, still just slightly damp. "Don't be stupid, Nick!"
He chuckled. "They're not too smart, you know. And not that strong. The only real strength they have is their numbers, Angie baby. Don't look like that."
She gave a small huff of indignation. "You're all right? Not scratched anywhere?" Already her hands were flying over him, turning his head this way and that, eyes giving a closer inspection of his clothes for rips or tears.
"I'm fine, I'm fine." He batted her hands away and smoothed an errant lock of hair of hers behind her ear. "Rudolph didn't make it though."
Angie sighed and squeezed his hand.
Nick just shook his head. "Poor bastard was just too slow. Always told him, they don't wait for anyone to get to safety. Got to pick up the pace. He was older though, and getting over the flu, I think."
"A pity," she said.
"Yes, a pity," Nick echoed, and looked around. "Why are you out here anyway?"
Angie looked at the ground. "Looking for--" A plaintive meow broke through her words, and she jerked her heads towards the small brown tabby cat that struggled through the mud to get to her. "Lin!" She thrust her bat into Nick's arms and bent over to pick up the cat, crooning as she soothed the ruffled fur. Lin nosed at her hand and cried out plaintively, the cat's little 'I'm hungry!' sound.
"Silly girl, where have you been?" she scolded, and touched noses with the muddy animal, ignoring the wet glops of dirt on her shirt.
"Safe on our bed, hmm?"
Angie gave a sheepish roll of her shoulders. She tucked the cat in closer, stroked along the soft neck, and started towards the house.
Nick balanced the bat and club in one arm, and reached out for her hand. He laced his fingers through hers as they walked towards the door, pausing only briefly to survey the damage there and on the siding. "Not so bad." The new scratch marks laced over the old, deep gauging like a crazy web; indents and gouges apparent even on the new, reinforced housing material.
"The dead never rest," Angie said bitterly.
"No," Nick replied, "But neither do we."
He shut the door behind them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So mainly it's a piece about how humans just keep on going. How the strangest things can get integrated into people's lives and they continue on with only a slight hitch in their steps. There's nothing else to do, after all, than to keep on living.