Final
Take Shelter
We belong to the light; we belong to the thunder,
We belong to the sound of the words we've both fallen under.
Whatever we deny or embrace for worse or for better,
We belong, we belong, we belong together.
“I heard you went to a psychiatrist.”
Joonmyun resisted the urge to slam the cabinet door closed and instead just sighed, turning around slowly and nearly cringing at the look Wufan leveled at him. “Yeah.”
“And?”
“I’m fine.”
Wufan frowned. “No, Joonmyun, you’re not.”
“Because I’m having weird dreams? Yeah, I must be insane.”
“No, because you said they were more than dreams.”
“I was just on-edge because of how vivid they were, alright?” Joonmyun really did slam the cabinet shut now, but he regretted it immediately afterwards, sighing heavily as he stared up at his best friend with pleading eyes. “I’m not crazy, Wufan. I’m really not. Please believe me.”
Wufan shook his head, “Whatever.” He muttered, heading out the door. “I’ll see you later, Joonmyun.”
The door slammed shut behind him, reminiscent of how he’d lost his temper with the cabinet, and Joonmyun sighed.
He was tired of sighing.
Thunder rumbled off in the distance and Joonmyun turned, frowning as he saw clouds gathering on the horizon through his kitchen window; dark blue and hanging low with rain. Nimbocumulus. They were just rain clouds, but they still made Joonmyun uneasy for they reminded him too much of the storms in his dreams.
But they weren’t dreams.
Not really.
Resisting the urge to sigh yet again, Joonmyun went about making himself a cup of tea. The dreams – or whatever they were – always left him with an unshakeable feeling of uneasiness, and he’d lost lots of sleep because of it, so the doctor had prescribed him a mild sedative that he said would help.
But Joonmyun wasn’t holding out much hope.
After a moment of hesitation, he crushed up the handful of pills in his hand and sprinkled them into his tea. He hadn’t told Wufan about the sedatives; he had no reason to. His best friend had enough to worry about as it was with his own family and his own problems.
Frowning, Joonmyun downed the tea as quickly as he could without burning his mouth and then went to get ready for bed, his hands shaking with an emotion he couldn’t identify.
His face looked pale and pasty in the yellow light from above his bathroom mirror; drawn, as if he hadn’t eaten or slept in days. The dark circles under his eyes had minds of their own now, it seemed, and even though Joonmyun was trying to convince himself that he was okay, one look in the mirror easily said that he wasn’t.
No wonder Wufan hadn’t believed him.
For once the nagging voice in the back of his mind was silent, and Joonmyun was grateful even as he washed his face, brushed his teeth, and finally slipped into bed. He’d refused to look at himself in the mirror again, hoping that he’d see a different face staring back at him the next morning after a good night’s sleep, but with how little faith he’d put into the sedatives, he doubted it.
It had barely been a week since he’d started having the dreams, and the thought still surprised him.
A week ago he’d been fine. Well-rested and known in his small town as being the kind, quiet guy a few doors down who had a good job and a nice life. He’d been able to look in his mirror before going to bed and smile at himself. He’d been able to sleep without fearing the lightning in his dreams.
But now even the barest hint of storm clouds in the sky had him jumpy.
Just let me sleep, he thought as he felt the sedatives kicking in, please …
Lightning.
That was how it always began.
A great storm cloud hung above him, and he could remember what it was called, even now; a supercell infused with a mesocyclone. The “mother of tornadoes” as many referred to it. It was breathtaking in all its dark beauty even as lightning spider-webbed through it, flashing across Joonmyun’s eyes, and he stared, unable to look away.
Joonmyun could never look away.
And then he came, emerging out of the clouds like a god descending from the heavens. He held the lightning in his palm, letting it sizzle and hiss as it slithered around his arm; a million volts of electricity twisting and turning under his skin. He had eyes that flashed blue and silver, like mercury infused with a live current, and his hair crackled with power. He never gave a name, but he still smiled as he saw Joonmyun.
“I will shield you from this storm,” he murmured, his voice soft as he gathered Joonmyun up in his arms.
Then that was always when Joonmyun would close his eyes, for the storm above them had finally reached its peak, sending out waves of rain and wind as the supercell’s rotation doubled in speed. A funnel began to descend down from the clouds, throwing debris in every direction, but the man with lightning in his eyes didn’t move; didn’t even flinch. He simply stood his ground.
And the storm never touched Joonmyun.
He awoke with a gasp; his eyes wide, his chest tight, his hair plastered to the sides of his face with sweat. The sheets had tangled around him in the night as he’d tossed and turned, and it took him a few moments to get free and stumble over to the bathroom to splash cold water over his face.
Most times, he never knew he was dreaming until he woke up.
I guess the sedatives didn’t work, Joonmyun thought bitterly, staring at the bottle he’d left on his bathroom counter and then quickly sweeping it off into the trash can. He wasn’t going to drug himself up every night for nothing.
For a moment, Joonmyun thought of going back to the doctor in the morning and getting a stronger prescription, but that nagging voice in the back of his head told him it wouldn’t help. It had been telling him since the dreams had started that they were important and he needed to have them, and finally Joonmyun decided to listen.
He never got back to sleep that night.
“Joonmyun …?”
Joonmyun managed a smile as he placed his groceries on the counter and dug into his pocket for his wallet, frustrated when he had more trouble than usual getting his credit card out. His hands were shaking. “Yeah, I know.” He sighed as he finally got his card out and waited for his total. “I look terrible, don’t I?”
Kim Minseok – the cashier at the local grocery store, and a close friend of his – stared at him for a moment. “Wufan said you had gotten worse. But I didn’t know it was this bad.”
Joonmyun shrugged noncommittally, his smile fading as he swiped his card through the machine, watching the words ‘transaction approved’ flash across it.
Flash.
Lightning flashed across the sky.
“I’m fine.” He said slowly, his voice cracking.
Like thunder.
Minseok’s brow furrowed in disbelief, “Joonmyun –”
“Damn it, Minseok, I said I’m fine!”
Everyone turned to stare, their mouths open and their eyes wide as they saw that Kim Joonmyun – kind, quiet, dependable Kim Joonmyun – had been the source of the outburst. Heart pounding and face heating up with embarrassment, Joonmyun grabbed his bags of groceries, muttered a soft “sorry” to Minseok, and then scurried out the front door, that nagging voice in the back of his head urging him to run and not look back until he was safely situated in his car and on his way home.
When he finally got to his house he slipped in through the front door and locked it behind him. Then, determined to keep everyone and everything out, he went and made sure all the rest of his doors and windows were locked too, even drawing the blinds and curtains down where he had him. When he was satisfied, he made his way into his bathroom and crawled into the tub, drawing his knees up to his to chest as he waited.
If you don’t have a basement or a storm shelter, get to a bathtub or a closet; somewhere without windows. You’ll be safest there.
Thunder rumbled outside, churning the sea into a mass of angry clouds, and Joonmyun shuddered, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he pushed himself into the farthest corner of the bathtub, praying for the man from his dreams to save him.
There’s a storm coming.
Joonmyun awoke the next morning to find himself still in the bathtub, strangely well-rested after a night devoid of dreams. But as he tried to stand he quickly found that there were more cons than pros to his situation, for he was stiff and sore from sleeping on the cold fiberglass all night, and he knew that the feeling of peace that had settled over him would be short-lived.
Wanting to get as much done while he still had the ability to function properly, Joonmyun cleaned up around his house a bit and made himself something to eat, knowing he needed to keep his strength up. He hadn’t eaten much in the last few days, and that coupled with how little sleep he’d gotten would definitely start taking its toll sooner rather than later.
It was while he was making himself a second cup of coffee, relishing the slight bitter taste on the back of his tongue, that he was hit with a sudden terrible headache like nothing he’d ever had before.
Pain laced through his temple, buckling his knees with the force and nearly sending him crashing to the ground, but he managed to grab the counter just in time, holding himself up. However his cup of coffee wasn’t so fortunate, and when the pain had finally passed Joonmyun sighed as he realized that he’d dropped his favorite coffee mug.
Getting down on his knees, Joonmyun slowly began to pick up the pieces of his shattered cup, careful not to let any of the shards cut him as he threw them in the trash and then grabbed a rag to clean up the coffee he’d spilled.
But despite his frustration over the broken cup, it was nothing compared to the anxiety now churning low in his stomach.
What was that? He thought, putting a hand to his head and flinching as it ached. It wasn’t the sharp stab of pain he’d had before, though, so he figured he’d be okay even as he stood, wobbling a bit on unsteady feet, and realized that the way the pain had flashed through his head had reminded him inexplicably of a bolt of lightning.
Knowing now that he wouldn’t get anything else done thanks to the paranoia now clawing away inside his head, Joonmyun finished cleaning up the remains of his coffee and gave up on making another, heading into the living room instead to watch a bit of TV and maybe calm himself down.
But the moment he the news, he froze.
“Reports are coming in from all over the state,” the news anchor was saying, his face creased in worry, “People, stay in your homes. Do not leave under any circumstances. This storm is like nothing we’ve ever seen before. The information is suggesting winds above two hundred and fifty miles per hour, and the circulation and width of the funnels descending from this monster of a supercell are leaving the Enhanced Fujita Scale in the dust. From what we’ve seen …”
Joonmyun shut the TV off.
No. This wasn’t right. He’d believed, at some point, that his dreams had been premonitions of things to come, but he’d never really thought they would come true in this way.
They were his dreams.
He should be the one the storm was after.
So despite the warning on the news to stay inside, Joonmyun flung open his door and ran out into his backyard, his heart constricting in his chest as he saw the clouds above him. They looked exactly like the ones from his dream; almost black, roiling with lightning and thunder as they circulated overhead.
“Take me!” Joonmyun cried out, barely able to hear himself above the wind. “They’re my dreams, so take me!”
The rains came then, stinging his skin as they whipped across his face and arms in sheets and sheets, draining out the rest of his shouts as he called to the heavens, begging them to leave the innocents alone.
Take me.
Joonmyun tipped his head back and closed his eyes, unable to tell the difference between the rain and the tears on his face as he waited for the end, for the thunder to crash and the lightning to strike and the wind to rip him to shreds. He could feel the anticipation thrumming through his body, tense and afraid as he continued to beg silently for the storms to take him and no one else.
Him and no one else.
Then suddenly, the wind stopped, and he could hear the thunder no more.
Confused, Joonmyun opened his eyes, only to find himself face-to-face with the man from his dreams.
“Kim Joonmyun,” the man said, his silver-and-blue eyes flashing, “The god of thunder and lightning has heard your selfless cry.” He moved closer, gathering a stunned Joonmyun up in his arms and holding him close, and Joonmyun was surprised to find that the man was warm to the touch.
“I will shield you from this storm.” The man whispered to him, just as he always had, and Joonmyun smiled and wrapped his arms around the man made of lightning and thunder, knowing now that he was safe even as he watched the storm die out around them.
“What’s your name?” He asked softly, wanting – needing – to know.
The man chuckled, the sound like raindrops on a midsummer’s day, and held him close.
“I am Chen.”
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