Title: Stormfront

Author: Alex Foster

Category: General

Feedback: Always appreciated.

Word Count: 400

Rating: PG for slight femslashy-ness, implied character death within canon.

Summary: Claire always hated electrical storms.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by NBC. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.

Author’s Notes: Written for slashthedrabble on Dreamwidth. The prompt was the word “face”. Thank you very much for reading.

…

They sicken of the calm, who knew the storm
Dorothy Parker (1893 - 1967), 'Fair Weather,' Sunset Gun, 1928

…

As a child Claire Bennet hated electrical storms. She’d run to her bedroom and bury her face under the covers whenever a midwestern thunder-boomer would sweep across Odessa. Lyle, possessing the fearlessness of a young boy, would call her chicken and proceed to stand on the patio until Sandra yanked him safely inside.

As a young teen she tried not to show it but the fear was still there. Not of the sudden rumbling of thunder, the hail, or of the rain—it was the wildness that spooked her. There was an uncontrollability in storms that unnerved her.

It was silly and stupid and outside of her family she only told one person about the irrational fear. Then it was a shared secret to foster trust and encourage the other person to accept assistance from her. To help tame another one of nature’s unpredictable creations.

Not even Peter knew their secret.

A part of her was relieved when they moved to Costa Verde. It rained there but nothing like the deluges of Texas. When storms did sweep in they came over the ocean, lighting the horizon with electricity that illuminated the dark clouds, and slammed themselves on the bluffs.

As an adult of eighteen years Claire Bennet knew that there were other things to fear besides water from the sky. Every lightning bolt could go to the ground through her and they wouldn’t leave behind a scratch.

Maybe it was because of that reason Sandra never pulled her in when it rained. Lyle remained silent whenever she’d walk outside at the first rumble of thunder. It had become almost a habit for her. Alone she would sit on the rocks overlooking the beach, studying the unusual pattern fingers of lightning made across the sky. The wildness, power, and unpredictability of it all pelted against her cheeks with each raindrop.

If they ever wondered what caused her sudden change they never asked. She wouldn’t have answered anyway. It was a secret she felt belonged to no one else now.

Once Noah followed her out into a particularly violent storm. He gave her his jacket and watched the lightning for a moment, rain speckling against his glasses. Before turning away he said, “She was a unique girl, Claire Bear.”

Rainwater streamed down her face, dripping from her chin. As he walked away the flashes of lightning turned blurry and Claire tasted salt.

End