Log: Whiteout--Voices from Home, Terry/Bobby

[x-coldhands.livejournal.com]

After a stressful day in Kansas City, Terry just needs to hear her husband's voice.


Terry gave the guitar back to the boy she'd borrowed it from and thanked him quietly. All around them, exhausted men and women dozed with children in their laps, every one of them having been evacuated from their homes to this gymnasium. She'd spent the entire day with them, organizing and consoling and trying to help them make some sense out of the disaster that had become their lives. Finally she'd just done what she did best--borrowed a guitar and sung for them, amusing songs for the children to distract them, then lullabies to send them to sleep. Her head was hurting as she found her bag and sank onto her sleeping bag. She unearthed her phone and hit the speed dial. "Please don't be asleep. Please."

Bobby wasn't asleep, but he was getting ready when his phone rang. He snatched it up as he heard Terry's ring tone, still trying to get one arm through the sleeve of his t-shirt. "Hello?"

She smiled and relaxed, feeling better already, "Did I wake you?"

"Nope. Just getting ready for bed." Bobby managed to get his arm through the sleeve and sank down onto the edge of the bed. "How are you? Exhausted?"

"Only completely." Terry leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, shutting out the gym for a little while. "I'm all right. These are never easy. How was your day?"

"Okay. Kinda stressful. It's been kinda hard to concentrate, wondering how you were doing." He got up and flipped the light off, then stretched out on the bed with a sigh. "So what have you been doing?"

"Helping with one of the shelters, passing out food and blankets and stuff. We're in this high school, the bleachers are still pushed up against the wall." She wondered how much to tell him then decided that was good enough. "This is the first time it's been quiet since I got here. The Red Cross said that they didn't expect to need us for that long though, so that's nice. I might even be home for Valentine's."

"I hope so," Bobby said quietly. "I miss you already. Valentine's day without you would be...sad." He added a little pout to his voice, closing his eyes so he could concentrate on her voice. "But if you can't make it--we'll make up for it after you get home."

That made her laugh softly, imagining his slightly woebegone expression. "It's very rude of the weather to try to wipe out Kansas City right before Valentine's Day." She grinned, "Could be worse though. Remember last Valentine's Day?"

Bobby thought back to the previous February. "Holy shit," he swore softly, "Was that only last year?" He chuckled, sliding an arm beneath his head. "So much has happened in the last year."

"Yep, a whole year. We went to that restaurant with the pineapple on sticks and then saw Avenue Q. I was so terrified all night." It was easy to laugh about it now though she wasn't at all eager to go through that situation ever again. It had been bad enough the first time.

A lot of things about the past year had been bad, but one thing hadn't, accident though it was. "And now, just a year later, we're husband and wife," Bobby replied softly, smiling. "Doesn't seem possible, sometimes."

"Doesn't even seem real, sometimes," she murmured. "Don't you wake up sometimes and wonder how we got here like this? There are these families here, Bobby. People not too much older than us but they have homes and kids and jobs and everything. Full lives. Doesn't it seem weird that we're like them?" Or could be anyway. Might be.

"...Yeah," Bobby sighed, wondering what Terry meant. Was she saying she wanted all of that, or was he reading too much into it? "We have full lives..." Sometimes too full.

"Yeah, we do. Just not..." normal ones "I'm sorry, Bobby. I'm really tired, I'm not making any sense." Terry rubbed her face and yawned, "I really just wanted to talk to you a little bit before bed. I wish you could have come too. This is just your kind of rescue mission."

"It's okay, baby. I'm glad you called." He was quiet for a few seconds, then added, "But it sounds like you already have plenty of ice there, without my help." Okay, it was a lame joke, but he was tired, and worried, and he really wished Terry was there, next to him, safe and warm and not completely worn out...

"I'm glad I called too." She was still exhausted, still had a headache, but she felt better anyway. "I love you. I'll see you soon."

"Love you, too. Get some sleep, a bean chéile." His tongue still tangled a little, wrapping around the foreign language, but she knew what he meant, the sentiment behind the words.

"Is tú mo ghrá, a fear céile. Good night, Bobby."

"Good night." Bobby smiled and snapped his phone closed, sighing as he set it on the nightstand. He rolled onto his side, tugging her pillow into his arms. "Be safe, sweetheart," he whispered to the empty room.