dreamland (bill skarsgard one shots)

37. here with me - willard russell

WARNINGS: smut, brief themes of ptsd and past alcoholism
NOTE: merry (late) christmas. i hope you enjoy this festive little fic

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It was a blustery winter morning in the mountainous countryside, but the Russell household was filled with warmth, a safe haven from the bitter chill outside.

The sun had barely begun to rise, but there was already a flurry of activity within the small farmhouse. Three children and a husband and wife occupied the space within the four walls. The children were up early because there were only two days left until Christmas, and they could hardly contain their excitement.

The family sat around the breakfast table, and there was a melancholy air that had settled amongst them. Willard sat at the head of the table, his wife's hand clutched in his own. He was leaving soon, heading out to work, which wasn't out of the ordinary. But there was a storm brewing outside the windows of their safe little home. A blizzard to beat the band.

She couldn't help but worry. Blizzards were bad news, especially living in a place like this. She'd experienced many a blizzard in her childhood and adult years, and there were times where the family couldn't leave the house for days.

She feared that Willard wouldn't make it home before the storm that night. Although she was more than capable of weathering the storm on her own, she didn't want to go it alone. She wanted her husband by her side.

Willard knew that she was afraid, and he gave her hand a squeeze. "I'll be back by Christmas, I promise," he assured her.

"Oh yes, Daddy, you have to be back by then. You can't miss Christmas!" Exclaimed their youngest, Emma.

"She's right. If you're gone, you can't hand out the gifts, or read us the Christmas story from the Bible!" Samuel, the middle child, piped up.

Willard smiled softly at the excitement of his children. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'll be back by then, youngins. Don't you worry," he told them, and that answer seemed to satisfy their worries.

But he still saw the crease of worry on his wife's brow, and the fidgeting of her hands when he wasn't holding them. Truth be told, he was a little concerned, too. Depending on how bad this storm got, he wasn't sure if his rickety old truck would make it through the treacherous roads. He would likely have to make the rest of his trek home on foot, if worse came to worst.

He'd packed enough provisions if that were to happen, and he had blankets and extra layers of clothing. He had to be prepared for anything.

He glanced at his watch and sighed softly. "I best get going," he mused, downing the last of his coffee before he stood. He made his way around the table, kissing the tops of each child's head. He paused beside his son, ruffling the boy's dark hair. "You're the man of the house while I'm gone. Take care of your mama and sisters," he instructed the young boy, smiling good-naturedly.

Samuel nodded, as if he'd been given the most serious job on earth. "Yes sir."

Willard stopped at his oldest, Ruby, and placed a kiss on her forehead. She turned to him, wide, green eyes full of concern. "Be careful, Daddy," she whispered.

Willard smiled, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I will be."

He made his way over to the back door, where he sat on the wooden still near the doorway to pull his boots on. While the children busied themselves with clearing the table, his wife sauntered over to him, lifting her hands to rest upon his broad shoulders.