24. Rain

The first thunderstorm of the spring happened on day 114 and El quite honestly had forgotten how much she hated thunderstorms. There hadn't been one since last fall, thanks to the seasons quickly transitioned into winter and thus, bringing snow instead of rain. And as she's rapidly realizing, she much prefers the bitter cold of snow to this.

The first roll of thunder scares her so bad, her entire body jolts as an icy fear is dumped into her system. The book she had been attempting to read drops to the floor as she scrambles instinctively to the farthest corner of the bed, pressing her back up against the wall. Her eyes dart to the window pane and she takes in the menacing, dark clouds that have long since covered the evening sky.

A gasp is torn out of her when everything is momentarily brightened in a flash of light off in the distance before the awfully silent anticipation takes hold...one mississippi, two mississippi, three mississip-BOOM the thunder cracks loud and merciless across the land and she swears she can feel the rumble in her bones.

And she's absolutely terrified.

There's not an explanation or a reason behind her fear of thunderstorms, but that doesn't make them any less scary or intimidating. They're big and loud and unpredictable and she already just wants this to either be over as soon as possible or for someone to hold her as the storm wreaks havoc outside.

Then comes the rain. One second a few drops are sliding innocently down her window, plinking on the roof of the cabin and the next, it's like someone broke down the wall of a dam and forgot there was a planet underneath it. Within seconds, the earth outside is soaked and the thin walls of the cabin do nothing to muffle the noise, much to her horror. The raindrops are thick and powerful, barely concealing the sound of the wind as it whips through the trees, howling through the night. The wood of the cabin creaks in protest at the relentless beating from the storm and when the next crack of thunder sounds, she realizes with a start that she's shaking. Her hands tremble as she sits petrified on the edge of her bed and she squeezes her eyes shut as the storm intensifies.

She knows Hopper is just outside, probably watching TV or reading the newspaper in the living room, but she's still wary of running to him for comfort. It's been three months, but her trust for him is still fragile, a result of his intimidating demeanor and his refusal to let her see Mike.

Mike.

If she doesn't snap herself out of this terrified state, she's bound to hyperventilate and pass out if she's not careful. It's happened plenty of times before, thanks to the amount of fear she dealt with back...back there, but she's determined not to let her anxiety get the better of her, not anymore. But that means getting help and Hopper's out of the question, so her only other option is the dark-haired boy who never failed to calm her down and make her feel warm and fuzzy inside. She just prays she'll be able to concentrate enough to reach him.

A particularly bright lightning strike forces a squeak out of her, but before she can second guess her actions, she darts across her room and grabs the black blindfold sitting on her dresser. Ignoring the way the rickety floor groans with every step she takes, she opens her door and is relieved to see Hopper decided to take a nap when he came home. Her mind latches onto the television and she drags it into her room, hastily shutting the door behind it. She finds the static as quickly as she can, the crackling barely drowning the sounds of the storm outside. With shaking fingers, she ties the blindfold around her eyes and tries her hardest to focus on anything but the thunder pounding menacingly.

By some miracle, she manages to fade away from her reality, slipping deliciously into nothingness. When her eyes open next, she's in the Void, and the blanket fort appears in front of her, revealing none other than her Mike sitting within its fabric walls, his SuperComm in his hand. She blows out a breath in relief as his voice dances through the space.

"...know I'm a bit early today," he's in the middle of saying as she dashes over to him and crouches in front of the fort. "But I remember how much thunder scared you and...and I wanted to let you know that I'm here for you if...if the storm is freaking you out." He pauses and she smiles, despite the pounding of the rain still echoing occasionally through the empty plane. She can already feel her anxiety start to ease as she takes in everything about him. Despite seeing him and listening to what he has to say every night, she notes how much he's changed in only four months. He must be growing his hair out, because it's thicker and swoops lower on his head, framing his cheeks that have rounded out. His voice has only dropped a few notches, but she could care less because it still sends the same flurry of butterflies through her stomach.

When he speaks again, his cheeks are tinged with a delicate shade of pink. "If you were here-" He's interrupted suddenly by a clap of thunder that's amplified by the Void and she shivers, keeping her eyes trained on Mike, willing the rising tide of panic to subside. He winces and glances at what she assumes is a window. "If you were here, I'd give you a big hug," he mumbles and she can feel her heart swell, wishing desperately she could be wrapped up in his arms right now. "And...and I'd want to hold you until you weren't scared anymore...I'd tell you everything was okay and that...that I wasn't going anywhere." She watches as he sighs and grips his device a little harder. "I'm still not going go anywhere, El. I'm not going to quit calling you and I promise to call you during storms from now on. I hope you aren't scared right now. I wish I could help you."

She lets out a noise somewhere between a chuckle and a sob. No, no she's not scared, not anymore. Though she's not crying, she feels so much love and care from him right now, she can barely breathe. She knows she doesn't deserve the affections of Michael Wheeler, but never in a million years would she reject them. She's all but forgotten about the storm by now, her full attention on the wonderful boy in front of her, who she can never get enough of.

"I hope you're safe, El. And...and I hope I get to see you soon. I'll stay here until the thunderstorm ends, okay? Please don't be scared," he finishes.

Okay, now she's crying.

She sat in the Void with him for as long as she could that day, even though he was just sitting there and reading a comic book. His presence, or at least an image of it, was what kept her going these days and she was more than happy to spend a little extra time with him. When she finally had to go, she was so tired from the energy she had exerted that she fell asleep immediately when she got back, Mike's gentle, sweet voice floating through her thoughts.

There were two more thunderstorms in Hawkins after that, but none nearly as bad as the first. Still, El found that Mike was true to his word, not that she ever doubted him. During every storm, he never failed to be seated in the blanket fort, speaking soothing words into his walkie-talkie in an effort to calm the girl he so desperately hoped was alive.

Eventually, the harsh storms gave way to spring showers and she could finally breathe again during the soft humming of raindrops falling on their roof. In fact, she grew rather fond of their peaceful nature and slowly, but surely came to enjoy the rain. However, she always wished she could share those moments with a certain someone.

And then one day, she did.

...

It was the picture perfect afternoon that everyone dreams of.

No responsibilities, nowhere to be, nothing to do but listen to the spring rain pitter patter against the windowpanes and run down the sides of the house. Everything is serene, peaceful and for once, life has slowed down.

And Michael Wheeler is absolutely freezing.

Or, he would be, if it wasn't for the girl curled up to his chest, her chestnut hair tickling his chin while he runs his fingers through it as she plays lazily with his fingers. A blanket is draped over them and he's completely content, his body buzzing where El is pressed up against him...which is practically everywhere as they snuggle in his basement. His other arm, the one not tangled in her hair, lays in his lap, and although he itches to hold her, she enjoys tracing the lines on his palm, admiring every curve, every mark of him. The rain is making them sleepy, but the sleepy where all you want is the presence of someone else. The warmth of another human being.

They made that happen as soon as the rain started. Pushing aside his studies, knowing he'd have plenty of time to do it later, they fell onto the couch and she got as close to him as she could, knees curled up on his lap, head resting contently on his chest, letting the shape of her body conform to his and he couldn't be happier. He never wants to move from this spot, which is good, because they don't have to for a couple solid hours. So they don't. They let the gentle sounds of the rain take them away as they rest curled up to one another, the intimacy exactly what both of them needed. No words are exchanged, but they both feel immensely safe and cared for in this moment, so much so that, when it overflows, he gently tugs his hand from her and wraps his arms around her small form, pulling her close against his chest. The small sigh she gives in return almost makes his heart burst, her hands curling into his shirt as her face nestles into his neck making his skin tingle.

He can't guarantee it, but he has a feeling he knows what she's thinking about because it's on his mind too.

There's something about rain that always draws them physically closer together and he's positive it has something to do with the night he found her. It had been pouring, soaking through his rain jacket, but they kept pushing on until their flashlight beams land on a small, shivering, vulnerable girl whose eyes captured his heart right then and there. He'd vowed to take care of her then and his resolve has yet to weaken. He'll always take care of her. Always. No matter what. The irony of him holding her, safe and dry in his arms as the very element that surrounded them when they met in the first place falls to the earth outside is too much and he softly plants the tiniest kisses against her hair.

He remembers a time when rain and thunderstorms made him think about her and only her. It got so bad that he started calling her early the second a storm turned violent, his mind, of course, on the night they met. If a storm had brought her to him, surely a storm could bring her home.

That hypothesis had been wrong, obviously. But when it was brought up some months after her return and he'd sighed in relief knowing his calls hadn't been in vain, she said something he'll never forget. "Mike, you chase away all my storms. Whether they're out there," she had gestured to a nearby window, "or in here," her finger tapping against her head.

Remembering that statement, the path of his kisses trails down to her temple, showering her in affection until she grins and burrows further into him if that's even possible.

The rain continues to thrum outside, but no longer are they lost in its rhythm, but in each other, in the wonderful, tender, passionate love they have for one another.