Fly

Chapter 5: The Rain

The day had finally come for you to move into your new apartment. As you prepared to leave the Mystery Shack, you said your goodbyes to everyone. "I'll be back for work tomorrow, don't you all miss me too much!" you teased, hugging Mabel, Dipper, and even Waddles, who gave you a wet snort in return.

As you turned to leave, Stan cleared his throat loudly. "Hey, toots! You got all that stuff to lug around, right? How 'bout I help you move? I need the exercise anyway," he offered, puffing out his chest a bit.

You laughed softly. "You sure, old man? Don't wanna throw your back out or something."

"Ha! My back's tougher than leather, and I've got more muscle than I know what to do with," he boasted, flexing his arm with a playful grin.

"Didn't you just complain about your back hurting after that hike last time? Or did you conveniently forget about that?" you teased with a smirk.

"Hey, that was a whole different situation, alright?" he shot back, waving it off. "Now come on, let's get moving before I change my mind!"

With Stan's help, the move went by surprisingly smoothly. He handled the heaviest furniture like a pro, barely breaking a sweat, even tossing in some playful banter as he worked. "You know," he said, carrying a box with ease, "I haven't done this much heavy lifting since that time I swindled a circus into hiring me as the strongman!"

You giggled, watching him maneuver around your new living room with surprising grace. "I think they missed out on a real talent."

By the time you finished moving in, the apartment was finally starting to feel like home. You were setting down the last few boxes when you noticed a sudden patter against the window. Looking up, you saw rain pouring down, and in an instant, it turned into a full-blown downpour.

You and Stanley paused, both turning to look at each other at the same moment. Droplets started tapping against the window in a steady rhythm, the sky darkening as the storm settled in.

Stan shook his head with a chuckle. "Well, ain't that just perfect timing," he grumbled good-naturedly. "Mother Nature just loves messin' with me. I think she's got a crush."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Guess you're stuck here until it lets up."

Stan looked around the apartment with a feigned sigh. "Ah, trapped in a cozy apartment with a pretty lady and no heavy lifting left to do. My worst nightmare."

"Hey, be nice or I'll make you move that couch back and forth until the rain stops," you teased, hands on your hips.

"Oh, don't threaten me with a good time, toots," he shot back with a wink. "But seriously, let's see what we got here."

For a moment, you both just stood there, listening to the rain and the comfortable silence that had settled between you. The world outside was a blur of gray, but inside, everything felt warm and safe. You glanced at Stan, a soft smile spreading across your face.

"Thanks for helping me today, Stan. Really," you said, your tone turning sincere. "I couldn't have done it without you."

He gave a little shrug, but his smile was genuine. "Ah, it's no big deal. Besides," he added, his eyes twinkling with a teasing glint, "what kind of guy would I be to leave a dame to do all the heavy lifting? My mama raised a gentleman."

"Is that what you call it?" you laughed. "Well, in that case, I'm lucky to have such a chivalrous 'gentleman' around."

Stan chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hey, don't go making me blush now. It's bad for my tough guy image." But his expression softened as he glanced around your new place, nodding in approval. "You did good here, toots. Real good."

The rain kept falling, drumming against the windows, but somehow, it didn't feel like a bad thing. You felt a sense of comfort, a sense of something... special.

A sudden crack of thunder ripped through the air, loud and jarring, making you flinch. Your heart jumped into your throat, and a wave of discomfort washed over you. Trying to steady your nerves, you mumbled an excuse about needing to get something from your room. But just as you reached the door, another thunderclap boomed, louder and more intense. Panic seized you, and before you knew it, you were diving under the covers, your body instinctively seeking refuge.

The sound brought back a rush of buried memories—of being locked outside in the pouring rain as a child, feeling small, scared, and utterly alone. Your rational mind knew you were safe now, but the panic was real, gripping you tightly, your body trembling under the blankets.

Stan noticed the shift in your demeanor and saw you leave. Concern etched across his face, he followed you to your room. "Toots?" he called out gently. When he found you curled up under the covers, small and shaking, his heart ached a bit at the sight.

He carefully sat on the edge of the bed, his voice soft and steady. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured. "What's going on?"

With a shaky breath, you peeked out from under the blankets, your voice small and unsteady. "I... I've always been scared of thunder," you confessed. "When I was a kid, my parents... they used to lock me out in the rain if I got low scores on my exams or I did something wrong. Said it was for my own good, that I needed to learn my lessons. But it didn't teach me anything except how to be afraid. Ever since then, storms just... bring it all back."

Stan's expression softened, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding and compassion. "Aw, toots... that's rough. No one should have to go through that," he said softly. Without a second thought, he slipped under the covers beside you, his presence warm and solid. He wrapped his arms around you in a firm, protective hug. "But listen to me," he said gently, "you're safe now. I gotcha, and I'm not going anywhere."

His warmth and reassurance seeped through, slowly melting the tension in your chest. With him there, the storm outside didn't seem quite as frightening anymore.

You buried your face in his chest, trying to steady your breathing as another rumble of thunder rolled through. His warmth, his presence, started to cut through the fear. "I'm here," he whispered, rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Ain't no thunder going to get through me, I promise."

He continued to hold you close, his voice a low, comforting rumble. "Besides, thunder ain't got nothing on ol' Stanley Pines. I've taken on worse—you should see what I do to bill collectors."

Despite yourself, you chuckled through your sniffles. "Thanks, Stan," you whispered, the tension in your body slowly melting away. His attempt to lighten the mood worked.

"That's better," he said, giving you a little squeeze. "See? We'll just wait out the storm together, right here." He held you a bit tighter, his cheek resting against your hair. "And if you need me to crack a few more old-man jokes, I got a million of 'em. Though I can't promise they'll be any good."

You smiled, feeling warmth blossom in your chest, the fear fading away under the weight of his presence and his silly humor. "I think I'd like that," you said softly.

The rain continued to fall outside, but it didn't feel so intimidating anymore. Wrapped up in Stan's arms, you felt safe. As the storm raged on, you stayed there, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and comfort, eventually finding peace in the sound of his steady heartbeat.

And for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe, just maybe, the thunder wasn't so scary after all.