#twisters

You remembered the roar.

 That classic, low-frequency sound that lingered somewhere between a freight train and a jet engine.

You remembered your window being broken, shattered by the downpour of the golf ball sized hail pelting the truck.

You remembered the adrenaline, which was the only thing keeping you from hissing in pain due to the tiny cuts on your arms and legs from the glass.

You remembered the excited hollers of Boone and Tyler from the front seat, mingling in the air with your own.

Then it all went dark.

——

The first thing you noticed was the distinct scent of disinfecting spray and Clorox wipes. This wasn’t your motel room. It was too dark. Too quiet. The kind of quiet where you notice the noises you usually tune out, like the steady hum of the AC, or your own breathing.

It didn’t take long for you to figure out where exactly you were.

The question was, why?

Just as your eyes were beginning to adjust to the dark room, the dull pain in your head that you hadn’t noticed before intensified suddenly into a splitting headache. You groaned and clamped your eyes shut, your whole body stiffening with discomfort.

Then a hand tightened around your own and you heard a voice whispering your name. You peered to your left and through squinty eyes saw a shadowy figure sitting at your bedside. You couldn’t make out their face exactly, but you could recognize that cologne anywhere. Cedar-wood and leather with just a hint of citrus.

“Boone?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Y’alright darlin’?” He asked, his Arkansas drawl prominent despite his volume.

“Mmh… my head hurts real-“ Your brow furrowed. “Why’re we inna hospital?”

“Took a nasty blow to the head, ‘member? Huge piece of wood flew right through your window and knocked you out cold. Doctor said it’s a concussion.”

“Oh…”

That explained the headache. You didn’t remember, not really, but then again you also didn’t remember it being so dark outside. You must’ve been here for hours already. 

You sat in silence for a minute or two, Boone’s thumb stroking circles on your wrist. Suddenly, a thought popped into your head.

“Are you okay? Tyler?”

“We’re both fine. You ‘jst got real unlucky.”

You hummed in response, digging into your brain to find any recollection of what had happened. You came up empty handed.

“That was a monster twister,” you managed quietly. Boone huffed a small laugh.

“Sure was. CC was going crazy. So photogenic, too. And did you see the rotation on that thing? Must’ve been goin a hundred at least.” You smiled

“Yeah… hey, no one got hurt right? I mean it didn’t hit any houses?”

“Ty and the others went to check out the damage after they left here a couple hours ago. Said it hit a small town, but thankfully no one got hurt. Everyone’s fine, promise.”

You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good.”

——

Boone loved that about you. You were always so selfless. Instead of worrying about your own condition, you were worried about the lives and safety of strangers. 

He remembered when you first joined the Wranglers. Fresh out of college with a degree in meteorology and a smile on your face Boone could only describe as “sunny”.

He remembered her first chase. How afterwards they had driven into the town hit to help out. You could hardly recognize it as a town anymore. Houses were picked up off of their foundations. Cars were thrown miles away. Stop signs and traffic lights laid haphazardly across the streets.

It was enough to dampen anyone’s mood.

He remembered how you offered a warm hug to anyone you thought needed it. Boone would look on in awe as complete strangers broke down sobbing into your shoulder for various reasons. A lost keepsake. A lost pet. A lost family member.

But most of all he remembered your smile throughout the whole ordeal.

Not happy, of course, but soft. Sympathetic. Comforting. Hardly there, but still enough to communicate to anyone you encountered that it would all be okay.

Now, as he looked at you lying in your hospital bed, your eyes fighting to stay open, he couldn’t be more confident that everything would be okay. You made things okay.

“We’re okay,” he whispered, bringing a gentle hand to your forehead and brushing back your hair.

“Huh?” You mumbled, already half asleep. Boone smiled.

“Nothin’. Go to sleep, darlin’. M’not going anywhere.”

That seemed to satisfy you, as your eyes finally closed and your hand went slack in his. He was cradling the back of your head now, his thumb brushing your temple with the utmost reverence. He stood up, carful not to make any noise, and pressed a soft kiss to your hair.