Blinded by the Light: Drabbles

Drabble Four: Thunderstorm

When Brian woke up in the middle of what seemed to be a heavy thunderstorm, it was not so much the ear-splitting noise of the first following thunderclap that caught his attention; instead, it was the sound of half-smothered sobs and choked-back tears that did. Despite the slumbering state of aftersleep he was still floating around in, it didn't take Brian longer than half a second to trace the sound back to the only source he deemed possible considering the time and place – Roger.

Brian was quick to prop himself up on his hands, rub his eyes, and reach out a clumsy hand to fiddle for the switch of the nightlight. The source of light that always seemed to be way too bright whenever one had just woken up, emitted a poor circle of light around Brian's nightstand, enabling him to read the time from the digital alarm clock next to his bed if he squinted his eyes. Brian could see that it was half past two, but he was too dazed to think about whether this was late or early, or whether they had been sleeping for long or not. It didn't matter to him either; not now that a flash of light was quickly succeeded by a clap of thunder, which drew a helpless wail from the person lying next to him. Or well, lying... now that his eyes had gotten used to the dim light of the bedroom, he could see that Roger wasn't lying on the bed the way he normally would; he had curled himself up below a tangle of sheets and duvets, knees pulled up to his chest and arms wrapped around them. Brian could hardly see his face; he had pulled the duvets up to his nose, leaving only his tearstained eyes visible for him to see.

The sight of this made a sting of guilt pass through Brian's stomach – he felt awful for not having woken up earlier, right away when Roger needed him. Brian's first instinct, to make up for having slept through the beginning of the thunderstorm and probably the many tears Roger had already shed as a result of this, was to spring right into action. But as much as Brian wanted to jump up, rip the duvets aside and throw his arms around his boyfriend, he knew this was a bad idea; Roger had to be approached cautiously at all times if one wanted to prevent scaring him even more, which was definitely the case in Brian's situation.

Brian reached out a careful hand and placed it on Roger's pyjama-clad shoulder. 'You're awake, darling, aren't you? What's wrong?' Brian asked, even though determining that he wasn't sleeping anymore, plus what exactly was troubling him, was both information Brian already possessed, especially when another loud growl of thunder made Roger flinch. It was just that he wanted to give Roger the chance to tell him what was wrong himself, but Roger didn't seem to be in the mood to talk about it at all.

'Nothing,' Roger answered in a squeak, choking on transparent teardrops, and Brian sighed softly. He knew Roger wasn't exactly fond of admitting his fears and always tried to cover them up as much as possible, but there was absolutely neither use nor need for. During the first thunderstorm they had experienced together somewhere years ago, it had only taken Brian five minutes of spending time together during a mildly aggressive thunderstorm to discover that it terrified Roger, and he had always told Roger that it was nothing to be ashamed of. Roger had seemed to be relieved that Brian didn't think any less of him because of his fear of thunder, but 'Roger, the lights are on; I can see that you're crying. It's the thunder and lightning, isn't it?'

Without opening his eyes or bringing his head towards the direction of Brian's voice, the drummer nodded heavily. 'I can't hear it coming,' he added between sobs caused by another element of thunder, but Brian hardly noticed the display of the force of nature. He was too absorbed in Roger's answer, which suddenly made him understand why he seemed to be even more afraid than usual – and which helped him feel even guiltier than before. Whereas Roger had never particularly liked thunder and lightning, he had always, like almost everyone, had the advantage of being able to tell when a next clap of thunder was going to assault the perfectly quiet atmosphere again. But now his eyes didn't fulfil the function of detecting the lightning and predicting the thunder anymore, thus making the moment those ear-splitting noises would interrupt the silence a complete mystery to the drummer. Brian hadn't realised yet that for Roger, who mainly feared the thunder, it was even more terrifying not to see the light flashes, than to experience both components of the thunderstorm.