The Love of Lightning and Ocean

Spiders

A/N: Alright, here we see another one of Phoenix’s phobias because I’m cruel and like to involve them. XD I do not own songs or Hawaii Five-0 in general, by the way. XD Enjoy!!

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Yeah the boys 'round here

Drinking that ice cold beer

Talkin' 'bout girls, talkin' 'bout trucks

Runnin' them red dirt roads out, kicking up dust

The boys 'round here

Sending up a prayer to the man upstairs

Backwoods legit, don't take no lip

Chew tobacco, chew tobacco, chew tobacco, spit

~Boys 'Round Here, Blake Shelton

I sighed, taking out my earbuds. It was late; probably one or two in the morning. I unlocked the phone. 2:32. Stupid insomnia. Another sigh escaped my lips as I closed Pandora on McGarrett’s phone, slipping downstairs and returning it to the charger in the living room. He never minded, rather having a somewhat non-tired me over an exhausted one.

Half exhausted, half wide awake, I climbed back upstairs, heading back to my room. My eyes widened as I stood in the doorway. My breath quickened in fear, my skin prickling. McGarrett. That thought unfroze my limbs, making me backpedal down the hallway.

“McGarrett.” I whisper-yelled through the door. There was nothing in response. I wondered if it was worth going in and waking him. The intruder flashed in my mind, making me shudder. Yes it was. I opened the door without giving myself time to think. Immediately after seeing his calm, sleeping face, I regretted my decision. Just as I was about to back away and pretend I was never there, I swore I heard a thump from my room.

I all but ran over to the bed, shaking his muscled shoulder. “McGarrett, wake up!”

His ocean blue eyes blinked open slowly as he turned to me. “Phoenix?” he yawned, his eyes sliding shut again. “Do you know what time it is?”

“McGarrett, please.” My voice trembled.

His eyes snapped open, sensing my fear. “What’s wrong?”

“Room.” I replied simply.

Seeing my terrified face, he climbed out of the bed, motioning me behind him. He led the way down the hall, hands curled into fists. We approached the open door. McGarrett glanced at me. I gave him a pleading look, not moving from the doorway to his room. A slight nod from my friend. He flipped on the light, not knowing what to expect.

Laughter. I glared at him. “Not funny, McGarrett!” Impossibly, he laughed harder. “Just get it!”

He coughed, finally trying to hide his chuckles. “Right, right. Go get a bowl or something.”

I did as he asked, looking through the doorway, ready to run if the tarantula (or, as McGarrett had called it, the cane spider) creeped towards my vulnerable feet. The SEAL, as calm as ever, walked over towards it and trapped the intruder easily.

“Afraid of spiders.” he muttered in disbelief, as he slid a piece of paper underneath the container, effectively moving the creature. “You. I can’t believe it.”

Managing a glare, I said, “Whatever.”

He grinned evilly, taking a few steps forward. “Want to see it up close?”

I took a rather large step back. “Just. Get. Rid. Of. It.”

His laugh turned into a yawn as he went to the window, opened it, and shook the spider out. I saw it scurry down the siding, but no relief filled me. “Did you get the other one too?”