Thunderstorms (Fortnite Collection)

Thunderstorms

(Repost of something I posted in a different collection book. Pre-Storm era.)

~•~

Jules woke with a gasp as something dropped onto her face.

She tried to open her eyes and adjust to the darkness, but it took her a minute to process that whatever was on her face was obstructing her vision. She dug her arms out of her blanket and grabbed the metallic object, only to realize it wasn't just an object. It was another limb: her brother's golden arm. With a yawn, she shoved it off and craned her neck to glance at him. Midas was sleeping soundly—from what she could tell, at least, seeing as he was lying on his stomach and his head was turned the other way.

From what she could recall from her half-asleep mind, she had run to his room after being scared of a storm that had rolled through earlier that night. He had promptly picked her up, tucked her into his own bed, and sat on the edge, promising to stay with her until the weather had calmed and she fell into slumber. It was the only reassurance she had needed to fall asleep despite the then still raging storm, and he had apparently fallen asleep some time afterwards. Jules smiled—her older brother was always there for her. Sure, he was boring sometimes, always preferring to sit in his room and read all day instead of playing with her before and after they had left their home, but she could say without a doubt that she loved her big brother.

The soft pitter patter of rain still thumped against the window, but the thunder and lightning were long over. As her eyes struggled to stay open, she buried herself back under her covers and listened to the rain as it lulled her to sleep.

Her slumber was promptly interrupted when she felt Midas shift abruptly, and an exhale that sounded almost like a sob escaped his lips.

Rubbing her eyes, Jules sat up and turned completely to face her brother, watching him like a hawk as he shifted to his back. Now that she could see his face, it was clear to her that something was wrong, as it read utter distress. She waited a moment to see his next movements, and as he started tossing and turning even more, she reached for his arm and shook him. "Midas," she whispered, "wake up!"

He shook his head, and Jules couldn't tell if he was awake or not. "No," he muttered, "please..."

"Midas...!" She shook him harder, and her voice started to rise in volume.

With a heavy, harsh exhale, his eyes flew open, and he stared at the ceiling with a blank gaze, trying to get ahold of his breathing.

"Midas," Jules whined, her voice becoming watery, "you're scaring me...!"

Finally, Midas turned his head, and the sight of his sister's teary eyes sprung him back to reality. "Jules?" He asked, his voice shaking slightly as he sprang up, "what's wrong?"

Jules sniffled as he reached over to turn on the lamp. She waited until he turned to her, giving her his full attention before she asked, "...did you have a nightmare?"

Midas cursed to himself as he looked into her expectant eyes—he hated how well she could read him. An image flashed through his head, and he covered his mouth with a shaky fist before inhaling deeply. "No."

"I think you did," she argued immediately, crossing her arms. Her face softened when Midas turned his head away, doing everything he could to hide his despair. Jules flung her arms around his torso as he reached up to wipe at his face with a soft sniffle.

"I'm alright, Jules, really now," he tried, trying to smile down at her. She was rather unconvinced by the gesture, but smiled back regardless.

"I love you," she said, snuggling into his side, and the gesture alone was enough to break him. Midas clung to her tightly, his breaths shuddering with silent cries as he wept into her hair. Jules held him just as tightly, but every tremor she felt almost sparked another set of her own tears. Midas never cried—not around her, at least.

For as long as she could remember, Midas had always been so strong around her. The only instances he let his emotions loose were the times he'd have trouble managing his anger—she'd always be able to hear him stomp around the house or slam things around, whether it be after a heated argument with their... now late father, or something important generally not going his way. The first and only time she recalled seeing him really cry was two or so years ago, after suffering a sprained ankle. Even then, it was brief, and he had been fine not even an hour later.

Jules gasped, wincing as she felt the sleeves of her nightshirt slowly harden, turning cold and metallic, and Midas's grip around her loosened as soon as he noticed. Some of the gold slowly faded, however a small portion remained, and it was only mildly uncomfortable as it stiffened into the fabric. "Shit, I'm so sorry Jules, I-"

"It's okay, it's okay," Jules quickly assured him. She was more concerned about the curse he had slipped out, but it wasn't like there was anyone to tattle to about it. "You can't control it because you're upset, remember? It's okay, because you won't turn me to gold on purpose. I'm not a bad guy, but dad is, so you had to turn him to gold, but you won't do it to me."

Midas sucked in a sharp breath at the mention of their father, and Jules watched as his expression turned into a scowl. It had only been a couple weeks since the incident... ever since then, it was clear something in her brother had changed. He looked just a bit emptier, sometimes full of hatred, yet a bit of life always returned to his eyes when he looked at Jules. She was just happy to know her mere presence could bring him joy in a heartbeat.

"Midas? What was the bad dream about?" Jules asked meekly.

Midas wiped away his tears with the edge of the blanket and sighed. "Nothing you need to worry about," he said.

"But it made you upset," she frowned, intently focusing on her fingers as she trailed them across her gilded hand. "So I need to know, so then maybe we can make a really cool dream gadget that makes you not have the bad ones."

Midas cracked a small smile as her innovative mind went into play, listening as she went into a spiel about how they could screen the bad images, put them into the gadget to counter them, and so on.

He didn't want to dwell so much on his past or his nightmares, either, but he couldn't help it. As far as Jules knew, this was his first in a while... he didn't want to worry her further with the truth of the opposite. He'd been having these nightmares for a few years now, and they'd begun to worsen after their father's death. Why now? Was it guilt haunting him for what he had done? Was it hurt, knowing he hadn't been able to prevent the one thing he was terrified of happening from happening? Maybe, all of the emotions he had tried to suppress over the years were finally crashing down on him... but whatever it was, he didn't know the cause, and he hated not knowing.

Jules tapped his arm. "Sooo?"

Midas sighed. "It was about our father," he admitted. It was the truth, however he didn't want to go further into detail. He wanted to forget about him, and he wanted to forget about this conversation. "I... don't want to talk about it."

Luckily, Jules nodded, hugging him again. "Okay."

They took solace in the silence that followed, from the mere presence of each other. It was clear that they were both exhausted, though, as they both struggled to keep their eyes open. "When can we go home?" Jules asked with a yawn.

Midas couldn't but frown again; as far as he knew, the golden statue that was their father still sat in the halls of their mansion at Eye Land. As a matter of fact, he didn't want to return any time soon, whether or not their parents were there. He couldn't fathom the idea of walking that same hall where blood had been shed, their mother's by their father's hands and his father's by his own... "We can't," he said simply.

"Okay," Jules nodded again. She adjusted herself into a more comfortable position. "I'm gonna go to sleep now."

She tugged at the blanket, and Midas smiled, pulling it over the both of them. "Good night, Midas," Jules smiled, and just like that, she was out.

With his sister by his side and the promise that he might actually be able to sleep soundly for the night, Midas heaved a small breath and closed his eyes, leaning back against his bed frame.

"Good night, Jules."