Lullaby for a Stormy Night
rating: PG-13
summary: It’s 1:36 am, September 5th, 1994, and Jade’s lips are soft against his.
disclaimer:
a/n: for auntcp ♥ The song is Lullaby for a Stormy Night by Vienna Teng.
And someday you’ll know
That nature is so
The same rain that draws you near me
It’s 1980, and he’s four years old.
His small fingers tighten around the flashlight, and he clicks the power button several times in quick succession. The light flickers obediently, on and off, on and off. He smiles as he trudges onward with muddy water slapping gaily at his rubber-clad boots. The rain spatters gently against his yellow raincoat. His mother’s soft hand is warm against his as she leads the way down the cement sidewalk. Her voice chides him every time he hops into a puddle, but when he grins sheepishly up at her, she smiles back.
His fingers untangle from hers as they approach a small white house. He pushes open the small iron gate and sprints up the rain-slicked cobblestone steps. His mother’s urges of “Slow down!” are ignored as his fists knock urgently against the wooden door. The woman who opens it is tall and kind, just like his own mother, and he yells a happy “Hi, Aunt Jade!” because she is Jade’s mom and because surnames don’t exist yet in his world.
He’s wrestling with his boots when his own mother greets “Aunt Jade”. She helps him out of his raincoat and he’s shuffling along as fast as he can across the wooden floor of Jade’s house because it’s bad to run when inside. “Jade is in the kitchen,” Jade’s mother says, a hint of laughter in her voice as she and his mom settle themselves on the couch in the den. He’s already clambering onto a beige wooden seat, chattering away at top-speed while Jade continues to slurp at his oatmeal.
Little child, be not afraid
Though the rain pounds harshly against the glass
Like an unwanted stranger, there is no danger
I am here tonight
It’s 1986, and he’s ten years old.
The walls in Jade’s room aren’t thick enough to block out the shouting match that’s coming from the kitchen. Him and Jade can’t read The Amazing Spiderman anymore because they can’t even hear themselves think with Mr. Puget - because surnames exist now - yelling about not having enough money. Jade’s face is screwed up in concentration because he’s trying sosohard to make himself deaf, and Hunter doesn’t know what to do so he keeps his eyes fixed on the colorful comic panel where Peter Parker is sitting in science class.
The rest of the week, Hunter doesn’t go to Jade’s house because Jade is always at Hunter’s house. It’s November, and they’re on Thanksgiving break so Jade sleeps over, and sometimes his little brother comes along, too. They don’t talk about Jade’s parents, but they talk about Spiderman and what they want for Christmas and how to build a rocket ship before Monday.
For Thanksgiving, Jade and Smith don’t come over because their Aunt Rachel and Uncle Bill and whoever the else is in the Puget family are here. Hunter’s mother makes him and his father stay in the living room and watch TV because Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt Lisa are coming in a few hours and she needs her “wonderful men” to not blow up the kitchen. Hunter wishes he could go visit Jade, but it’s raining, and it’s Thanksgiving so he has to say his graces and not fidget too much when Aunt Lisa pinches his cheek one too many times.
Little child, be not afraid
Though wind makes creatures of our trees
And their branches to hands, they’re not real, understand
and I am here tonight
It’s 1989, and he’s thirteen years old.
There’s a hole in his heart that even pretty brown-eyed Michelle Rook can’t fix. His arms are tight around Jade’s thin frame, and he doesn’t trust his voice to speak. His mother and Jade’s mother are crying and comforting each other. Smith is saying good-bye to Hunter’s father whose usual Marine-stoic expression is replaced by one of sadness, and Hunter just wants to hold onto Jade until he wakes up from this nightmare. Mr. Puget calls to his wife and sons from the station wagon, and his voice cracks which only makes the women cry harder.
The promises to keep in touch through calling or letters are endless. Then Hunter is getting one last hug from Smith, from Mrs. Puget, from Jade, and he’s trying really hard not to cry. Then the station wagon is pulling out of the Burgans’ driveway. Mrs. Puget wails one last promise to call, but it’s Jade’s face, pressed up against the backseat window, hazel eyes gleaming sadly that breaks Hunter, and he’s sobbing into his mother’s arms because no matter how it’s said, six hundred fifty-seven point eight miles is pretty fucking far.
When his father shepherds them all back into the house, Hunter glances at the green pine tree in the living room, all dolled up in silver tinsel and reindeer ornaments and makes a wish.
It’s Christmas the next day, and when Hunter wakes up and Jade isn’t in the living room waiting for him, Hunter no longer believes in Santa Claus.
Little child, be not afraid
Though storm clouds mask your beloved moon
and its candlelight beams, still keep pleasant dreams
I am here tonight.
It’s May 14, 1992, and it’s his sixteenth birthday.
It’s his first time on a plane, and he loves it - even with the sound of the engine blowing up his eardrums. His father is already snoring, but his mother, sitting right next to him, clasps his hand firmly. He’s reminded of the time of when he was a child, being taken to school, to the park, to Jade’s, and it’s the same hand that is taking to take him to San Francisco, to Jade’s new home.
The captain is talking: “Expected flight time is thirty-eight minutes,” and Hunter can’t help the grin that spreads across his face because that’s just thirty-eight more minutes until he sees his best friend again.
When they land, it’s bumpy and nauseous and makes his father shout “Shit!” and his mother scold “Ken!” But they’re safe and exiting and picking up their luggage. His father strolls briskly across the airport, leading his family towards the automatic sliding doors. They’ve barely stepped through before Hunter is tackled and nearly falls, clutching a small boy with a wide, impish grin and two missing front teeth.
“SMITH PUGET.” The firmness in the voice could only belong to Smith’s mother who’s running toward them. She whaps her youngest son lightly on the back of his head before enveloping Hunter in a tight hug. Hunter returns the hug with equal love, but his eyes are trained on the familiar lean body of Jade who is striding towards them, giant smile that reaches those golden brown eyes.
They don’t speak because they don’t need to, but they hug each other tightly to the point where a better word for the embrace would be ‘clinging.’ It’s not until Hunter feels a really sharp pain in his side that he realizes Jade is clutching keys - sharp, pointy metal keys whose shapes are imprinted into his waist.
“You got your license,” Hunter remarks as cool as he can, but he’s beaming because Jade passed. Jade returns his grin with equal brilliance and adds, “Two hours ago.” Then, Mr. Puget shows up, and it’s back to cries of joy and bone-crushing hugs.
Well now I am grown
and these years have shown
That rain’s a part of how life goes
It’s June 1994, and he’s eighteen years old.
He’s standing on the stage erected less than twenty-four hours ago on the high school’s football field. His mother is teary-eyed and beaming, his father is in his best suit looking proud and confident with that glint in his eye that says “That’s my son.” The piece of notebook paper is heavily wrinkled. He can barely read his own writing, but he makes it through his five minute valedictorian speech, and the crowd is clapping and his classmates slash fellow graduates are cheering.
The principal shakes his hand firmly and congratulates him. He smiles his nervous shy smile and returns to his seat. Green and white balloons arch over the student body and the stage holds a giant banner which reads “Class of 1994.” He twists around in his seat, searching for his parents. His mother waves excitedly and he grins back. A few minutes later he’s back on the stage, and this time, Principal Muller reaches out and moves his tassel to the other side.
“Congratulations, Mr. Burgan.”
Little child, do not be afraid
Though thunder explodes and lightning flash
Illuminates your tear-stained face
I am here tonight
It’s September 1994, and he’s still eighteen.
He’s waving good-bye to his parents. His mother shouts at him to call when his plane lands, and he waves again to show that he heard. He’s clutching his acceptance letter to the University of California, San Francisco.
The plane lands in San Francisco (and it’s much less nauseating this time) within the predicted half hour. He’s lugging a huge duffel bag as well as a large suitcase, and when he steps through the sliding automatic doors, he’s tackled by thirteen-year-old Smith Puget, and “Aunt Sandra!” is kissing both his cheeks and Jade is standing by, looking pleased, proud, and piquant.
Mr. Puget is waiting at the front steps of the house and pulls Hunter into a bear hug when Hunter steps out of the car. “Uncle Don!” Hunter greets affectionately, allowing himself to be lead into the house.
It’s 11:39 pm, September 4th, 1994, and he and Jade are still chatting excitedly about their upcoming college days. They found a nice apartment a few minutes from campus for a good price, and it’s going to be just like old times.
His head is on Jade’s lap, and every time Jade laughs, Hunter can feel the contractions of Jade’s stomach.
It’s 1:36 am, September 5th, 1994, and Jade’s lips are soft against his.
When they break apart, Jade’s smiling at him; it’s shy and nervous and gentle and warm, and Hunter wants to see that smile every day for the rest of his life.
But it’s dark and it’s late
so I’ll hold you and wait
‘til your frightened eyes do close
It’s 2002, and he’s twenty-six years old.
He’s surrounded by cries of relief as he steps off the tarmac, along with the rest of his crew. They walk, straight-backed and disciplined towards their family. They’re smiling, but Hunter sees the haunted look in their eyes that’s seen too much, too young. The image of one of their sister ships exploding to mere pieces of steel and human body parts is forever ingrained into his memory.
His civil engineering education keeps him out of harm’s way most of the time, but he’s still seen enough to know that this is hard and torturous and terrifying. The only thing that keeps him mildly sane are the letters and photographs his family and friends send him. There’s a photograph he’s especially fond of that he keeps tucked in his front pocket, and he fumbles with it so much that the edges have already worn away. His parents are in the picture as are Jade and their college friends, Nick, Geoff, Christine, Joey, Adam, Linda, and Davey. They’re all grinning at the camera and holding up a hand-made sign reading: “We love our Marine.”
“Hunter!” It’s loud and booming and totally Adam’s firm, get-your-shit-together voice. People push against him to find their own soldier, and he lets them pass first. It takes nearly a full ten minutes before he reaches Adam. Adam isn’t alone; Jade is there and launches himself on Hunter the minute he’s in launching distance. He buries his nose in the crook of Jade’s neck because it’s been sosolong - eight months, two weeks and five days long.
He lets himself fall into his mother’s embrace, but his mind is still reeling because he’s home and safe and loved and Jade’s here.
That night, he’s home in his Los Angeles apartment, and Jade’s curled up aside him, snoring quietly against his shoulder. He stares up at the ceiling and reflects on everything’s he experienced thus far. Jade shifts in his sleep and his hold tightens around Hunter’s waist. Hunter smiles and decides, there’s nothing to regret. He closes his eyes, and it’s the first time he’s falls asleep in eight months, two weeks and five days and doesn’t dream.
The same rain that draws you near me
Falls on rivers and land
on forests and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you’ll see
It’s 2008, and he’s thirty-two years old.
The white gold ring on his finger is warm and strong. He’s fully dressed in his Marine uniform, marching down Hollywood Boulevard with his hand in Jade’s. Their rings brush against each other, and Hunter walks with his head held a little higher. Others around him carry signs saying “No on Prop 8” and “NOH8,” and it kills him inside that the country he’s been fighting to protect is considering to deny a basic civil right.
He’s fought for his country for seven years and his father before him for eighteen. He puts his life on the line every day for others so God help him if he’s going to be selfish just this once and do something for himself. They pause for a moment at the traffic light, and he looks at Jade. Jade is wearing his black-framed glasses with a black suit because he hadn’t bothered to change after work. He’s a well-known defense attorney, and this is the first time he’s appeared in public with his partner - his husband.
A reporter recognizes Jade and stops him, asking for a quick interview. Jade gives them a passionate, impromptu speech while Hunter tries to slink off to the side to give Jade his spotlight, but Jade’s hand clasps his firmly, refusing to let them part. When the reporter turns her attention to Hunter and asks for his name and what his relation to Jade is, Jade puts his arm across Hunter’s shoulder and pulls him for a fierce kiss. They nod at the reporter who looks positively gleeful and walk on.
Their hands are entwined, and their vows are engraved in one simple phrase inside their rings: Just love. And no matter what anyone says or what the law commands, they will do that just that.
Everything's fine in the morning
The rain'll be gone in the morning
But I'll still be here in the morning
summary: It’s 1:36 am, September 5th, 1994, and Jade’s lips are soft against his.
disclaimer:
a/n: for auntcp ♥ The song is Lullaby for a Stormy Night by Vienna Teng.
And someday you’ll know
That nature is so
The same rain that draws you near me
It’s 1980, and he’s four years old.
His small fingers tighten around the flashlight, and he clicks the power button several times in quick succession. The light flickers obediently, on and off, on and off. He smiles as he trudges onward with muddy water slapping gaily at his rubber-clad boots. The rain spatters gently against his yellow raincoat. His mother’s soft hand is warm against his as she leads the way down the cement sidewalk. Her voice chides him every time he hops into a puddle, but when he grins sheepishly up at her, she smiles back.
His fingers untangle from hers as they approach a small white house. He pushes open the small iron gate and sprints up the rain-slicked cobblestone steps. His mother’s urges of “Slow down!” are ignored as his fists knock urgently against the wooden door. The woman who opens it is tall and kind, just like his own mother, and he yells a happy “Hi, Aunt Jade!” because she is Jade’s mom and because surnames don’t exist yet in his world.
He’s wrestling with his boots when his own mother greets “Aunt Jade”. She helps him out of his raincoat and he’s shuffling along as fast as he can across the wooden floor of Jade’s house because it’s bad to run when inside. “Jade is in the kitchen,” Jade’s mother says, a hint of laughter in her voice as she and his mom settle themselves on the couch in the den. He’s already clambering onto a beige wooden seat, chattering away at top-speed while Jade continues to slurp at his oatmeal.
Little child, be not afraid
Though the rain pounds harshly against the glass
Like an unwanted stranger, there is no danger
I am here tonight
It’s 1986, and he’s ten years old.
The walls in Jade’s room aren’t thick enough to block out the shouting match that’s coming from the kitchen. Him and Jade can’t read The Amazing Spiderman anymore because they can’t even hear themselves think with Mr. Puget - because surnames exist now - yelling about not having enough money. Jade’s face is screwed up in concentration because he’s trying sosohard to make himself deaf, and Hunter doesn’t know what to do so he keeps his eyes fixed on the colorful comic panel where Peter Parker is sitting in science class.
The rest of the week, Hunter doesn’t go to Jade’s house because Jade is always at Hunter’s house. It’s November, and they’re on Thanksgiving break so Jade sleeps over, and sometimes his little brother comes along, too. They don’t talk about Jade’s parents, but they talk about Spiderman and what they want for Christmas and how to build a rocket ship before Monday.
For Thanksgiving, Jade and Smith don’t come over because their Aunt Rachel and Uncle Bill and whoever the else is in the Puget family are here. Hunter’s mother makes him and his father stay in the living room and watch TV because Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt Lisa are coming in a few hours and she needs her “wonderful men” to not blow up the kitchen. Hunter wishes he could go visit Jade, but it’s raining, and it’s Thanksgiving so he has to say his graces and not fidget too much when Aunt Lisa pinches his cheek one too many times.
Little child, be not afraid
Though wind makes creatures of our trees
And their branches to hands, they’re not real, understand
and I am here tonight
It’s 1989, and he’s thirteen years old.
There’s a hole in his heart that even pretty brown-eyed Michelle Rook can’t fix. His arms are tight around Jade’s thin frame, and he doesn’t trust his voice to speak. His mother and Jade’s mother are crying and comforting each other. Smith is saying good-bye to Hunter’s father whose usual Marine-stoic expression is replaced by one of sadness, and Hunter just wants to hold onto Jade until he wakes up from this nightmare. Mr. Puget calls to his wife and sons from the station wagon, and his voice cracks which only makes the women cry harder.
The promises to keep in touch through calling or letters are endless. Then Hunter is getting one last hug from Smith, from Mrs. Puget, from Jade, and he’s trying really hard not to cry. Then the station wagon is pulling out of the Burgans’ driveway. Mrs. Puget wails one last promise to call, but it’s Jade’s face, pressed up against the backseat window, hazel eyes gleaming sadly that breaks Hunter, and he’s sobbing into his mother’s arms because no matter how it’s said, six hundred fifty-seven point eight miles is pretty fucking far.
When his father shepherds them all back into the house, Hunter glances at the green pine tree in the living room, all dolled up in silver tinsel and reindeer ornaments and makes a wish.
It’s Christmas the next day, and when Hunter wakes up and Jade isn’t in the living room waiting for him, Hunter no longer believes in Santa Claus.
Little child, be not afraid
Though storm clouds mask your beloved moon
and its candlelight beams, still keep pleasant dreams
I am here tonight.
It’s May 14, 1992, and it’s his sixteenth birthday.
It’s his first time on a plane, and he loves it - even with the sound of the engine blowing up his eardrums. His father is already snoring, but his mother, sitting right next to him, clasps his hand firmly. He’s reminded of the time of when he was a child, being taken to school, to the park, to Jade’s, and it’s the same hand that is taking to take him to San Francisco, to Jade’s new home.
The captain is talking: “Expected flight time is thirty-eight minutes,” and Hunter can’t help the grin that spreads across his face because that’s just thirty-eight more minutes until he sees his best friend again.
When they land, it’s bumpy and nauseous and makes his father shout “Shit!” and his mother scold “Ken!” But they’re safe and exiting and picking up their luggage. His father strolls briskly across the airport, leading his family towards the automatic sliding doors. They’ve barely stepped through before Hunter is tackled and nearly falls, clutching a small boy with a wide, impish grin and two missing front teeth.
“SMITH PUGET.” The firmness in the voice could only belong to Smith’s mother who’s running toward them. She whaps her youngest son lightly on the back of his head before enveloping Hunter in a tight hug. Hunter returns the hug with equal love, but his eyes are trained on the familiar lean body of Jade who is striding towards them, giant smile that reaches those golden brown eyes.
They don’t speak because they don’t need to, but they hug each other tightly to the point where a better word for the embrace would be ‘clinging.’ It’s not until Hunter feels a really sharp pain in his side that he realizes Jade is clutching keys - sharp, pointy metal keys whose shapes are imprinted into his waist.
“You got your license,” Hunter remarks as cool as he can, but he’s beaming because Jade passed. Jade returns his grin with equal brilliance and adds, “Two hours ago.” Then, Mr. Puget shows up, and it’s back to cries of joy and bone-crushing hugs.
Well now I am grown
and these years have shown
That rain’s a part of how life goes
It’s June 1994, and he’s eighteen years old.
He’s standing on the stage erected less than twenty-four hours ago on the high school’s football field. His mother is teary-eyed and beaming, his father is in his best suit looking proud and confident with that glint in his eye that says “That’s my son.” The piece of notebook paper is heavily wrinkled. He can barely read his own writing, but he makes it through his five minute valedictorian speech, and the crowd is clapping and his classmates slash fellow graduates are cheering.
The principal shakes his hand firmly and congratulates him. He smiles his nervous shy smile and returns to his seat. Green and white balloons arch over the student body and the stage holds a giant banner which reads “Class of 1994.” He twists around in his seat, searching for his parents. His mother waves excitedly and he grins back. A few minutes later he’s back on the stage, and this time, Principal Muller reaches out and moves his tassel to the other side.
“Congratulations, Mr. Burgan.”
Little child, do not be afraid
Though thunder explodes and lightning flash
Illuminates your tear-stained face
I am here tonight
It’s September 1994, and he’s still eighteen.
He’s waving good-bye to his parents. His mother shouts at him to call when his plane lands, and he waves again to show that he heard. He’s clutching his acceptance letter to the University of California, San Francisco.
The plane lands in San Francisco (and it’s much less nauseating this time) within the predicted half hour. He’s lugging a huge duffel bag as well as a large suitcase, and when he steps through the sliding automatic doors, he’s tackled by thirteen-year-old Smith Puget, and “Aunt Sandra!” is kissing both his cheeks and Jade is standing by, looking pleased, proud, and piquant.
Mr. Puget is waiting at the front steps of the house and pulls Hunter into a bear hug when Hunter steps out of the car. “Uncle Don!” Hunter greets affectionately, allowing himself to be lead into the house.
It’s 11:39 pm, September 4th, 1994, and he and Jade are still chatting excitedly about their upcoming college days. They found a nice apartment a few minutes from campus for a good price, and it’s going to be just like old times.
His head is on Jade’s lap, and every time Jade laughs, Hunter can feel the contractions of Jade’s stomach.
It’s 1:36 am, September 5th, 1994, and Jade’s lips are soft against his.
When they break apart, Jade’s smiling at him; it’s shy and nervous and gentle and warm, and Hunter wants to see that smile every day for the rest of his life.
But it’s dark and it’s late
so I’ll hold you and wait
‘til your frightened eyes do close
It’s 2002, and he’s twenty-six years old.
He’s surrounded by cries of relief as he steps off the tarmac, along with the rest of his crew. They walk, straight-backed and disciplined towards their family. They’re smiling, but Hunter sees the haunted look in their eyes that’s seen too much, too young. The image of one of their sister ships exploding to mere pieces of steel and human body parts is forever ingrained into his memory.
His civil engineering education keeps him out of harm’s way most of the time, but he’s still seen enough to know that this is hard and torturous and terrifying. The only thing that keeps him mildly sane are the letters and photographs his family and friends send him. There’s a photograph he’s especially fond of that he keeps tucked in his front pocket, and he fumbles with it so much that the edges have already worn away. His parents are in the picture as are Jade and their college friends, Nick, Geoff, Christine, Joey, Adam, Linda, and Davey. They’re all grinning at the camera and holding up a hand-made sign reading: “We love our Marine.”
“Hunter!” It’s loud and booming and totally Adam’s firm, get-your-shit-together voice. People push against him to find their own soldier, and he lets them pass first. It takes nearly a full ten minutes before he reaches Adam. Adam isn’t alone; Jade is there and launches himself on Hunter the minute he’s in launching distance. He buries his nose in the crook of Jade’s neck because it’s been sosolong - eight months, two weeks and five days long.
He lets himself fall into his mother’s embrace, but his mind is still reeling because he’s home and safe and loved and Jade’s here.
That night, he’s home in his Los Angeles apartment, and Jade’s curled up aside him, snoring quietly against his shoulder. He stares up at the ceiling and reflects on everything’s he experienced thus far. Jade shifts in his sleep and his hold tightens around Hunter’s waist. Hunter smiles and decides, there’s nothing to regret. He closes his eyes, and it’s the first time he’s falls asleep in eight months, two weeks and five days and doesn’t dream.
The same rain that draws you near me
Falls on rivers and land
on forests and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you’ll see
It’s 2008, and he’s thirty-two years old.
The white gold ring on his finger is warm and strong. He’s fully dressed in his Marine uniform, marching down Hollywood Boulevard with his hand in Jade’s. Their rings brush against each other, and Hunter walks with his head held a little higher. Others around him carry signs saying “No on Prop 8” and “NOH8,” and it kills him inside that the country he’s been fighting to protect is considering to deny a basic civil right.
He’s fought for his country for seven years and his father before him for eighteen. He puts his life on the line every day for others so God help him if he’s going to be selfish just this once and do something for himself. They pause for a moment at the traffic light, and he looks at Jade. Jade is wearing his black-framed glasses with a black suit because he hadn’t bothered to change after work. He’s a well-known defense attorney, and this is the first time he’s appeared in public with his partner - his husband.
A reporter recognizes Jade and stops him, asking for a quick interview. Jade gives them a passionate, impromptu speech while Hunter tries to slink off to the side to give Jade his spotlight, but Jade’s hand clasps his firmly, refusing to let them part. When the reporter turns her attention to Hunter and asks for his name and what his relation to Jade is, Jade puts his arm across Hunter’s shoulder and pulls him for a fierce kiss. They nod at the reporter who looks positively gleeful and walk on.
Their hands are entwined, and their vows are engraved in one simple phrase inside their rings: Just love. And no matter what anyone says or what the law commands, they will do that just that.
Everything's fine in the morning
The rain'll be gone in the morning
But I'll still be here in the morning