be-co-me @be-co-me - Tumblr Blog

When It Rains It Pours

Tyler Owens x Reader

9.8k words

Summary: You felt the five stages of grief at once: misplaced anger at Tyler for not letting you in on what exactly you would be doing, sadness at the reality og what really killed your brother, happiness that the tornado was becoming smaller as it inched away, denial that you were actually alive, and the acceptance that this was going to be the next four months of your life. There's some small truth to this fic. My town was hit by an EF4 with no warning. My brother is alive lol but his apartment did get leveled. Make sure you are tornado safe if your area is prone to them besties! This is lowkey dramatic as hell but fuck it we ball. Maybe a part two coming for this at some point and if it's requested enough! This has been in my drafts for two years (since the movie was in theaters…)

You remembered the day you finally chose your field of study as crystal clearly as the pieces of hail that battered your windshield.

Your alma mater was settled smack dab in the middle of a small town in Tennessee. It was a regular day, the old talk of bad weather brewing up for the evening wasn't something uncommon. The regular weather programs and news channels geared up to broadcast through the entire night as per usual.

Though talk of bad weather and the weather events in general was quite common where you lived, you were still scared shitless every time. That night, there was no warning. The news channels said it was safe for the town to retire for the evening, that the storms to the West had slowed substantially.

But not for you.

Eight minutes of warning for those at the end of the path, not a second for those at the beginning of it.

You sat in your bedroom, every muscle in your body tensed, every hackle you had raised, as you had every time a drop of rain splashed the ground. Your roommate sat in her room, either asleep or aimlessly scrolling through her phone, used to your "overdramatic" reactions to the weather. You had lived through plenty of tornadoes, fortunate enough to only go through insane straight line winds, though your eyes had seen the tornadoes jumping over the valley you called home for a few years. Fascinating yet terrifying.

You thought your reaction was justified, considering the amount of tornadoes that had already been confirmed to touch down that night in the supercell that was heading your direction. Your only hope was that it would die down by the time it reached your small, but ever growing city. Any time a new warning was called in a surrounding town, you would fight with your trembling hands to pick up your phone and dial whichever friend, even their parents, that lived in that city and tell them to get to safety, no matter how much annoyance came from the other side of the line about awakening them.

You ended up saving the lives of a friend's parents in a city virtually non-existent on a map about 45 minutes away from your home, your call received only two minutes before they were hit directly, a tree falling onto their house, but thanks to you and your "over dramatics", they were safe.

Your heart in your throat, the sirens sounded in your own city. You didn't want to move, your body frozen and tense from fear, but alas, you wrangled your dog into your bathroom along with your drowsy roommate who had fallen asleep during her doom scrolling on her cellphone, a TikTok video playing on repeat atop her chest. You brought your thickest comforter along with you and a camping lantern you had acquired after your last camping trip in case the power decided to go out.

You had decided you were safe to sit outside of the bathtub for now, although the newscaster spouted that the tornado had touched the ground and increased exponentially in strength as it continued it's barrage around the middle section of the state, and it was headed right for you, your college, and the hospital. No warning besides the sirens sounding outside, you were thankful chasers were out to confirm or you'd have not even gotten sirens. The news said you'd been safe to sleep. You wrangled your roommate and dog into the tub, grabbing your dorm-like mattress and throwing it overtop your small group.

You heard hail begin to torment the roof, the power beginning to flicker in and out. Your breathing became erratic, your roommate's anxiety developing from your own. She trusted you, sure, but the only reason she did is because you were so terrified of bad weather that you were so over weather prepared. Your grip tightened on her shirt sleeve and your dog's collar. No matter how prepared you truly were, you never felt that you would ever have enough information stored in your brain about bad weather phenomena.

Along with the power, your weather broadcast turned dark. Your dog was just as unsettled as you were, waiting for the inevitable hit, but after what felt like hours of sitting in your bathroom, the power returned, the torment of hail and rain settled, and your broadcast began again, telling you the tornado had changed paths, although that information would end up scarring you more.

---

You learned later that morning after no sleep at all, that your brother's apartment had been leveled to the cement foundation. No call, no anything, no account of what had happened until you had seen it with your own eyes. The rest of your family probably hadn't even awoken yet. You had joined your undergrad sustainability club in relief efforts, helping to assess the damage and search for belongings, pets, people,

Your brother...

Your club director, her son one of your brother's best friends, looked at you with a sense of guilt she didn't deserve to bear as she told you to take a break from the relief efforts. You nodded with the beginnings of teary eyes, finding a place of solace where you could be somewhat alone, choosing to rummage through what remained of your brother's apartment and belongings.

The larger pieces of the building had been excavated already, the smaller pieces crunching under your hiking boots as you walked further into the rubble. The sun beat down, conflicting with the March air chill, despite the opposing weather pattern that had happened not even five hours before. Your tears turned cold as they slipped through your lashes.

You kept your eyes to the ground, kicking aside pieces of rubble in search of any of your brother's belongings. An EF4 they had quickly graded it. The true rating would come later, and possibly worsen. His things could be miles away. You heard the crunching of boots along the rubble in front of you, your eyes tearing from the ground to the figure in front of you, his steps halted as soon as you made eye contact.

Your gaze tore from his to the ground as you tripped over a piece of larger cement foundation that had yet to be cleared, your knees and palms hitting a pile of glass and rubble hard as you fell, what used to be a mirror.

His pace quickened as he made his way to you, a water bottle was placed next to you and another cracked open. You didn't look up as you readjusted yourself to squat in a relatively glass free spot. A calloused grasp took hold of both your wrists and he doused them in water. You watched the light pink stream drip into the hems of your grey sweatshirt sleeves. He placed a cloth onto your palms, pressing into a particularly deep cut. Your ears were ringing, but still registered his gravelly voice telling someone to grab a first aid kit. The barometric pressure often made your ears ring.

After five or so minutes, you'd been patched up to the best of his abilities, the thick denim of your overalls protecting your knees from cuts, but not bruises. You were helped to your feet, reassuring words you didn't quite catch being whispered into your ears.

Your teary gaze finally met his own as he shoved a water bottle into your torn up hands. He must have been from your college you thought. No words exchanged between the two of you were registered, he only smiled with a nod before turning away and met back with his relief group.

'What could you do for the well being of others and the environment?' You thought.

Human biometeorology. How do the weather patterns affect others? Is there a way the human body can sense what is coming before it happens?

---

Five years later, you sat in your big city apartment, safely stowed away in the north, where it was colder, but not near as prone to severe weather. Your half dead laptop sat in front of you, an email you had received the day before opened as you reread the terms of the project scholarship. One of your graduate program professors had recommended you to study along with a team of storm chasers and people with varying differences in degrees of meteorology experience.

Why they were interested in biometeorology being a part of their project was a wonder to you. It was a relatively small field of study still gaining traction. A "pseudoscience". Many people didn't believe it was a real field of study. You didn't want to agree to the project, and you sure as hell didn't want to dive right into tornado alley during prime tornado season. The only temptation to join the venture was the promise that if you did, you would pass the class with a perfect score, a hefty scholarship, and a published study under your name to boost the field's credibility.

After another week of debating, and a trick meeting thanks to your professor, whom you were supposed to meet with to discuss graduation and NOT the project you very much so opposed, you were promptly voluntold to go.

So, two weeks before the semester was set to start, your schedule was rearranged to fit the project, classes online, and time allotted for the project thrown in, you found yourself in the airport, boarding your flight to the eye of tornado alley.

When you landed, an affiliate of the university of Oklahoma's meteorology program was there to pick you up, taking you to your residence for the next four months. Once you settled everything you could bring with you to the best of your abilities, you searched what was around you on your phone. This had been quite a nice get up so far, despite your fear of the place overall, the university arranged for a truck they had kindly rented for you (although you were sure you'd later see it in your tuition costs), a vehicle strong enough for you to later be driving through storms, a thought you pushed aside in favor of finding the closest bar to you.

There was one around the corner from you, and a beer, maybe even a pitcher if they were cheap, sounded far too enticing to pass up after the day you had endured. You'd put on a pair of sturdy jeans and a tank top in favor of the warm and windy weather, letting your hair down for the day after the headache your tight ponytail had given you. It was notably warmer in Oklahoma. You headed out the door and hopped into the driver's seat of your new ride, pondering a name for the vehicle as you made the short drive to the bar.

---

You pulled into the parking lot, parking the car along a set of tire tracks previously embedded into the once wet dirt, now dried up. You pushed the door of your truck open, jumping down. The air carried a warm breeze, and you looked into the sky, the stars more clear than you'd seen them in years. You made your way up the wooden steps of the bar's entrance, a gentleman pushing the door open to the best of his drunken abilities, nodding to you in greeting as you made your way inside.

You took in what was in front of you, comparing it to the small bars you frequented underage in your undergraduate. Pool tables, dart boards, arcade machines, a jukebox, and just what you were looking for; the bar top.

You hopped up into one of the barstools, eyeing the neon signs above the liquor bottles. The special for the evening was, in a lucky turn of events, a five dollar pitcher of beer, four if you were a student. You dug through your pockets in search of your wallet, pulling your state ID and fresh Oklahoma university ID out of it. You ordered a pitcher and went ahead and paid for it, pouring your first drink into the frost bitten glass set in front of you. You turned on the barstool to face the rest of the bar, sipping off the foam from the top of the ice cold beer. Your pour hadn't been the most exquisite, but you couldn't find it in you to care as you watched the locals do what they did best on a Friday night.

A figure made itself known as it plopped heavily into the barstool next to you, loudly ordering another of what you assumed was already many pitchers of beer into the evening. Your gaze made its way to him, although you found his gaze already pierced your own once he spouted what he had liked to the bartender. Sizing you up.

"Well you ain't from around here now are ya darlin'?" he asked after a short pause, a cocky smile gracing his features as he all but tried to tip his hat in greeting to you. Before you could sputter out an answer after cleansing your palate from the beer, he spoke once more.

"I have a tip for the foam you know." he said, pointing to your beer glass, pouring his own beer into his newly frosted glass, then swiping his pinky finger along the side of his nose. Your eyes followed his finger to his glass. He placed the tip of it along the top of the cloud of foam and you watched it fizz away quickly, revealing a spot to access the beer from underneath.

You shrugged lightly before trying the same thing along your own nose, wiping the side of it twice for good measure before floating your finger on the foam remaining in your own glass. A small section fizzed away and your beer was in sight. Your eyes widened lightly in disbelief that something that stupid would work. Your gaze met his once again and he smiled, yet again tipping his hat once more before rejoining his group with the new beer pitcher.

---

The next morning you awoke, sleepily putting on clothes you didn't care too much for in the case that you got dirty, a semblance of an outfit containing your favorite denim overalls and a tank top. After hastily running through a modified version of your usual morning routine, you finished with a coffee in a to-go cup and made your way to the address texted to you after leaving the university of Oklahoma, where you would meet those you'd be working with over the coming months.

You listened to the local radio on the way, talks of the weather possibly turning awry later bringing back the all too familiar prickling feeling of anxiety that had already been thrumming through your veins. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you pulled into a parking lot littered with vehicles prepared to chase the coming severe weather, some seemingly already at work, maps spread across hoods and multitudes of devices being double and triple checked. There's no last minute checks when a tornado is headed right for you after all.

You jumped from your truck, closing the door, the gazes of a few meeting your figure as you walked towards them. You quickly introduced yourself to those who were listening, the first two you'd met named Lily, a girl that flew drones capable of scanning tornados and storms, and Boone, a boy that recorded everything encountered about the weather for later review.

You're met with a small group of people that Lily and Boone dubbed their team, your eyes raking across the figure of the man you had met the night prior, now seemingly sober.

"Well hello stranger." he said, along with his now familiar greeting involving the tipping of his hat, a coffee cup stowed in his other hand.

"Hello again. Thanks for the tip by the way." you responded, brushing your finger along your nose, his infectious smile lifting the corners of your own lips in response.

"You two know each other already?" Boone asked, eyeing the two of you. You let him respond.

"Well, I never caught her name, but she was at the bar last night." he responded to his friend. You nodded in response, remembering to offer your name, which he did in return.

"Tyler. Tyler Owens, though I'm sure you're already familiar." he said with a small laugh. What was he, some sort of celebrity?

Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion and a short laugh escaped Boone's lips as Tyler's face fell into an expression that most likely mirrored your own. Lily explained what exactly they did to you, their channel, donations, and you better understood why you should probably know who 'The Tornado Wrangler' was already. As if the shirt he was oh too happy to bring out didn't solidify the point for you.

You also took the opportunity to explain exactly what you were there for to them.

"I essentially monitor the impact of weather phenomena and it's correlation to the health of the human body and sometimes the environment and livestock when it calls for it." you explained. They all looked puzzled, the same thought crossing your mind again. Why in the hell were you here?

"I know this doesn't seem like something my expertise would likely be involved in, trust me, I'm just as confused as you all are as to why I'm here. My professor told me I had to." you said. They all nodded in response, a few shrugs littered across your gaze.

"Well all branches of meteorology are welcome to study with us." Tyler offered, shaking your hand. "Welcome aboard city girl."

You could only roll your eyes in response, a dry chuckle puffing past your lips.

---

You helped with set up, as all your work would be field work once you actually arrived at your destination. You attempted to piece together what storm chasing had to do with your field and concluded you'd have to email your professor to find out her thoughts. The only thing you could draw up was the anxiety you personally felt in any storm. You're brought back to your original purpose too. Could the anxiety the body feels in lieu of a storm have anything to do with a natural warning system?

It had been pre-determined you would ride with Tyler, the most experienced and scholarly (you found that one hard to believe) out of them all, rather than driving your own truck into the storm the first go around or two, something you were very thankful for. Your thankfulness dried up when you remembered you had forgotten that first ride along would be in that moment.

Music chattered quietly over the radio as he drove, and you eyed the darkening storm clouds looming out of the passenger window, still pondering over what use you could be. What tests did you need to do in the field? What equipment that you have could survive the severity of a tornado if it had to face it, especially if it's rated higher than an EF1-EF2? You'd imagine all of it? Would you be able to properly place the equipment where you need it when faced with a tornado without help, or would your crippling fear prevent you from doing so? Your fist clenched atop your thigh.

"What equipment you got in that bag back there?" Tyler asked, his hand reaching to turn the loud music you found yourself enjoying to background noise.

"That's for you and me to find out later. I'm not sure what I could set up if I'm being honest. Like I said, I'm really not even sure why I'm here. I wanna talk to my professor first before jumping into things." you responded with a light shrug, continuing your sight seeing out of the window, the storm clouds growing darker and the wind stronger.

He nodded in response, the same cocky smile gracing his features once again, as he turned the music back up, to possibly the loudest volume it could reach. His smile proved infectious once more as the corners of your own lips went up. You could only shake your head.

The music was once again turned down to more of a background level, barely audible, as his team spoke with him over the radio, updating him on the specs of the storm you were all headed into, when the tornado would come down if it did. Your hackles raised and you straightened in the passenger seat when you found that would be in under ten minutes. Your breath quickened.

His gaze met your panicked one and nodded in reassurance.

"You ready city girl?" he asked, the same wild smile gracing his features.

"Guess I don't really have a choice do I?" you asked, your mouth going dry. You faced ahead, the rain beginning to pound his truck's windshield. Thunder cracked, the rain turning into pea sized, then golf ball sized hail shortly as soon as it started.

He was advised by a team member to go off-road, onto a mud track and he sharply turned to do so. Your gaze met the rear view mirror and you watched as the rest of the vanguard followed with the exception of the van collecting data from the instruments yourself and the team placed. Your heart was racing and your anxiety grew exponentially.

But nothing could ever compare to what you felt watching the cloud funnel down to the ground.

Your breathing quickened in pace once more and you reached for anything you could grasp to pull yourself up tall in your seat. You turned to face Tyler, his expression now a complete 180 from your own, and faced forward again quickly, watching as the tornado made contact with the ground and began to tear the dirt to shreds. The wind shook the windows of the truck, though you tried and failed to reassure yourself that the truck was built to withstand it.

His gaze softened as he became aware of your panicked state when your eyes finally met.

"What's wrong darlin'?" he asked, his eyebrows scrunching in concern, his hand reaching towards your own, white knuckling the middle console.

"I haven't seen a tornado in a while, that's all. I've never chased one. This is my first time." you responded.

"Nothing's gonna happen to you darlin'. I'll make damn sure of it." he responded. His hand remained over your own as he looked back forward, though your grasp on the middle console remained. His words were reassuring, but if something happened to him, you were fucked. Thank goodness you didn't drive or you'd probably already be dead.

His hand went back to the steering wheel over some particularly rough terrain and soon enough, the truck screeched to a halt, pulling your body forward out of your seat with it, the seatbelt slamming you back down hard.

"Put your harness on." he instructed and you didn't hesitate to do so. His hands worked to flip a series of switches and you felt the car's augers drill down into the terrain shortly after. Maybe you should have watched a video or two of theirs, because why the hell were you stopped in the direct path of a tornado?

You looked in the mirror to eye the vanguard once more, but found they were no longer behind you. It was just you and Tyler in his damned truck.

Your breathing quickened again, you were sure it was the coming on of a panic attack, far worse than your usual reaction to the bad weather years ago at home, and the same concerned expression faced you once again, only his hand hovered over a small red button on a custom console, rather than reaching for your own.

"It'll be alright I promise. I bring plenty of people new to storm chasing out." he reassured you, though the thought was there, it didn't really do much of anything to calm your nerves. The tornado was right in front of you. You were gonna die. What the fuck did you get yourself into? What were you doing? You never should have come out here. Fuck the scholarship. Fuck the publication.

You closed your eyes as the tornado hit, the strong winds thrashing the truck on its suspension. You only opened your eyes to view Tyler as he finally pressed the button he had held his thumb on top of, and red flares lit up the darkness around you. You turned every direction you could to witness whatever chain of events happened next.

After what felt like an hour but had to be less than a minute, the tornado finally passed the truck, your breathing remaining erratic. Soon after, the vanguard radioed in, ensuring everyone's safety first and foremost, and Tyler confirmed your own. You felt the five stages of grief at once, misplaced anger at Tyler for not letting you in on what exactly you would be doing, sadness at the reality of what really killed your brother, happiness that the tornado was becoming smaller as it inched away, denial that you were actually alive, and the acceptance that this was going to be the next four months of your life.

You hastily ripped your harness off once your brain ensured the tornado was far away enough to safely enter the outdoors, your wide eyes meeting Tyler's, his gaze turning to concern once again, realizing your next moves, his hands already reached to unbuckle his own harness. You wrenched the door of the truck open as wide as it would go, practically falling out of it.

Your feet barely had a chance to hit the ground before your knees did. You placed your shaking hands on the side of the truck to keep yourself from completely hitting the ground, your forehead resting between them atop the cool metal as you attempted to catch your breath, tears pooling in your eyes, turning your gaze of the scratched red paint cloudy.

You could hear the hasty rustling of Tyler struggling to finally undo his own harness and pushing his own squeaky door open, quick footsteps making their way around the front of the truck to the passenger side. A large hand soon met the spot between your shoulder blades, the other coming to your shoulder. You heaved in whatever air you could get into your lungs, your entire body shaking. Gosh this was embarrassing. He's never gonna want to work with you again. Maybe the city girl jokes were warranted. You managed a small dry laugh at the thought.

Instead, you were surprised to soon find his lips pressed into your hair, attempting to garner your attention. Maybe he isn't all cocky smile and hat tipping.

"Just breathe. Look at me. Breathe in and out with me. Follow me." he muttered quietly. Okay. You pushed your thoughts of him aside, removing your buried gaze from the truck's paint, wiping harshly at your eyes with the heels of your palms, before facing him. You followed his slow, exaggerated breathing, his hands enveloping the tops of your shoulders, squeezing hard in reassurance, holding you steady.

"I'm okay. I'm sorry." you repeated monotonously between short breaths, your apology ignored along with the tornado you really should be chasing right now. Your eyes ripped from his to view the tornado now in the far distance.

"You're alright. Let's focus on you right now." he assured. You remembered your grounding techniques, hopefully the beginnings of your rapid fire thoughts clearing up.

5 things you could see: the tornado you again, really should be chasing right now, the scratched red paint of his truck, the melting hail littered at your feet, the torn up patches of grass, a small piece of debris a few feet away from you, and Tyler. Yeah, Tyler was there. You were both alive and there.

4 things you could feel: the wetness of the dirt soaking into your jeans, the warm breeze brushing past you, the cool metal of the truck, and Tyler's hands on your shoulders.

3 things you could hear: the tornado's roaring growing further away, the voices of his team chattering on the radio of the truck, Tyler's own breathing you were supposed to be following along with.

2 things you could smell: the rain, Tyler's cologne carried in the breeze.

1 thing you could taste: the remnants of the coffee you had all but forgotten.

You shook the thought away, your breathing had slowed considerably, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips in reassurance that you truly were fine. You'd have to put some power in your shaky voice and not only reassure him, but more so reassure yourself that you really wanted to do this.

"I'm good, I'm good. Let's go wrangle this fucking tornado before it's gone." you told him, sniffling the remains of your tears away, huffing a last short breath out. His smile widened along with your own, a last squeeze to your shoulders before pulling you to your feet. His gaze roamed your figure up and down one last time before you made your way back to your respective seats in the vehicle. You buckled up and he undid his augers and reset his gadgets and control panel to once again, drive into the storm. You shook the remaining nerves out with exaggeration, shaking your wrists with a noisy sigh and pulled a laugh out of Tyler in response.

You found yourself slightly more excited this time, now that you really knew what you were in for. You'd just sat inside the tornado you were currently chasing, how could it possibly get any worse?

That seemed to be enough reassurance to yourself as you really took in the tornado you drove towards to its fullest. You straightened in the seat once more, not quite on edge this time, but to really view what you were headed for. Time to study. Time to find out what you came here for.

You soon caught up to the tornado, bouncing over the already torn up terrain in an attempt to get in front of it. What would be put to the test this time?

"Your turn city girl. I've done my tests. This time around, you do yours!" he shouted over the winds. You nodded, reaching to the backseat for your bag, unearthing your laptop from it. You opened it, pulling up your data on the area, typing with shaky hands. You pulled up a model, the Rayman model, although outdated, it could prove useful to your studies. It's what you have. This tornado had to be what, an EF2?

You eyed around his truck for whatever devices measured the altitude, the approximate latitude and longitude of where you were, the date and time. Now you needed a person to model after.

"How tall are you?" you shouted over the wind.

"What? Why do you need that?" he asked, puffing out a short laugh.

"Just answer the question!" you responded with a breathy laugh.

"Six feet on the dot." he responded, facing forward with a shake of his head.

"Are you lying?" you asked, patronizingly. You were quite sure he could be taller than 'six feet on the dot'.

You continued to get his weight and age, entering his stats into the model. Now came the hard part, trying to devise the meteorology part of this. You supposed the best readings about tornado impact would come from closest to the tornado.

Tyler once again slammed the brakes of the truck to a stop and you once again undid your harness. He did the same next to you and drilled the augers into the ground. You yanked your duffel bag out of the truck and plopped it to the ground, digging through it for equipment that you thought might survive the winds of an EF2.

You handed equipment to Tyler, instructing him how to set it up and find the best way to keep the equipment safe and secure for not only successful readings but to not find them half a mile from your current location in multiple pieces.

Once you were satisfied with your arrangement, you hauled ass back to the truck, securing yourself into your harness. You'd keep your eyes open this time, and truly watch the monster that killed your brother and exactly how it works.

Tyler's hand met yours once again as the tornado neared, squeezing in reassurance and excitement.

"You alright with this city girl?" he shouted.

The wind rushed, debris slamming the truck, but not doing any severe damage. You were safe. Tyler wouldn't put you in danger. He's done this plenty of times. Your eyes opened.

The swarm around you was like nothing you had ever seen before. Your eyes widened in amazement as you attempted to see what the eye of the tornado looked like out of the windshield and passenger side window.

"This is- Wow!" you shouted. The excitement was more overwhelming than any grief. The fact you could get tests this close to a tornado and stay relatively safe was astounding. How much research had you missed out on because of your fear? What have you been doing the past few years?

"I can't believe you were terrified two seconds ago and here we are! I'm with a different person!" he responded. You reached over to him as far as you could encased in the safety harness and frogged his shoulder. He let out a loud laugh.

"You're such an ass! I have a great reason to be scared!" you responded with a light chuckle, the tornado beginning its torrent on the land next to the truck.

"How about we see your readings?" he asked, once the tornado inched quite far away. You nodded, taking a deep breath before pushing the door of the truck open.

The air felt different, more moist, more pressure, colder than it had. You eyed the tornado in the distance as it tormented the ground.

The equipment had thankfully come out with only a few scratches. You brushed the dirt and debris caked to the first one, pulling a small notebook from the truck, then recording the reading. You did that for every piece, then packed them back into your bag. You entered them into your model, seeing how they may affect the man now sitting back in the truck with you.

You closed the top of the laptop and let everything upload. The rest of the entourage met behind the truck, everyone getting out and spouting about how amazing the tornado was. You had a feeling they did that every chase. Every single one couldn't be the same. There had to be something unique about every single chase.

---

Later that evening, you emailed your professor in the safety of your motel room, telling her about the events of the day, minus the freak out of course, and updating her on the tests you did. You asked what tests you should add that would be beneficial to the department's research and shot it off.

A knock wrapped on your door and you got up, smoothing your clothes down and running fingers through your hair before opening it. Tyler's eyes met your own, Lily and Boone on his tail bounding up the stairs.

"And what can I do for you this fine evening?" you asked, bearing your weight to a single hip. He laughed in response and Lily and Boone had made it up the stairs. Before Tyler even had a chance to answer, Lily answered for him.

"Come to the bar with us! We gotta celebrate your research!" she shouted, an arm thrown around Tyler's shoulders. You didn't do anything crazy today, just got some readings. Actually, judging your initial reaction, even getting readings was a step ahead of what you usually got to do. And you felt that reason enough to celebrate.

"Give me a second to change and I'm all yours." you responded, your eyes still attached to Tyler's as you responded to Lily's statement. He gave you a typical Tyler smile and you shut the door, quickly pulling on a pair of shorts and a button up shirt over the tank top you already donned. You pulled on the pair of boots you thrifted before coming here and brushed through your hair with an actual brush before opening the door once again.

You rode in the passenger seat of the red truck once more on the way to the bar, answering any question Tyler threw your way about your chosen field of study.

"That seems so boring though. Why would you want to do that? Isn't it kind of an outdated idea that weather messes with the body?" he asked. Your eyes rolled in response. That was the usual response and then no one ever wanted to hear you talk bout your major again, even your family members.

"No, the idea that it's outdated is outdated. It's actually very relevant. The barometric pressure does a lot to people's bodies. Tinnitus, vertigo, joint pain, etc. etc." you responded.

"You don't even have an idea why you're here though." he responded. You sent a glare his direction and he laughed.

"Blunt much! I'm figuring it out! There is a reason thank you!" you crossed your arms, feigning your annoyance and he laughed. "Even if it isn't for my major, I have my own reasons."

"You're cute when you're angry city girl." he responded, pulling the truck into a parking spot. You threw the door open and jumped out, meeting with Lily and Boone instantly. They each threw a respective arm over your shoulders and led you up the familiar wooden steps of the bar you'd been to the evening before.

They told you stories of their craziest chases between rounds of pool and you wished you could counter with a chase you'd never been on before with the exception of today. You'd tell the story of your hometown tornado, but you didn't want to bring down the vibe. They were truly a fun and unique group to be around and you were glad they were the ones you could research with. You told them so after a few more beers.

—-

The next morning as you got ready, a knock pounded on your door and you opened it as you braided your hair back, nearly ready to chase whatever was in store for the day. You learn late into the night at the bar there was a particularly promising storm system moving through the next day.

"Brought a coffee. How you feeling?" Tyler asked. You walked away from the door, placing yourself back in front of the small wall mirror and he let himself in, letting the door close.

"Feeling pretty good. I hope I can get some good stuff today." you responded, tying off the braid and taking the coffee from him. You tilted it towards him in thanks, taking a large sip. It was most definitely the best motel coffee could offer but you would take what you could get.

"So what's the plan?" you asked him, shoving your feet into a pair of hiking boots, the last of what you needed to do before heading out. You walked out the door with him, occasionally sipping at the coffee as he told you the plans for the day. The storm system was already making itself known, thunder rumbling far in the distance, a breeze in the air, and complete cloud coverage taking over a large chunk of the sky.

You took your place in your provided truck rather than his own with more heavy duty testing equipment in tow once the team discussed everyone's place. You'd follow along with Tyler in your truck, going wherever he went to. It sure would be a fun day if his driving yesterday was anything like today would be. As far as you were aware, your truck could withstand a good storm.

You took off once the storm system considerably developed, shaking your nerves away the best you could. You had tuned to the radio channel Tyler had advised you to, giving it a test.

"Just wanna make surely radio works before we drive into this thing." you decided to say and received a cacophony of answers that resembled a 'yes'.

The clouds grew darker and the rain became heavier the further you drove into the system. You'd been driving about a half hour as you watched the system develop. You could feel the wind bullying your windows, although a heavy duty truck, you didn't feel quite as safe as you would if you were in Tyler's truck with his expertise. You shook your nerves away, remembering the trust you already developed for Tyler in keeping you safe.

You followed Tyler's truck as he took sharp turns down whichever was advised to be the direction best suited to getting you closer to the possible tornado. You'd been advised on where there was already developing rotation and listed off the equipment you had in your head and exactly where it was in the truck, keen on spending the least amount of time outside as possible.

One more sharp turn and some speeding later, Tyler slammed the brakes to his truck and you followed suit, finding the rearguard was no longer behind you.

"Watch the sky." Tyler bossed you. You did so without hesitation, eyeing the funnel cloud swirling in the distance. He could boss you around in this circumstance.

"Should I place my equipment now? Where should I put it?" you asked, hoping he couldn't notice the shakiness lining your voice.

You stepped out of your truck, your whole body shaking, from fear. The now torrential rain pounded down on you as you pulled your equipment out and placed it where you were advised to. Tyler helped where he could.

"Does your truck have any of the fancy shit that mine does?" he shouted in question, the funnel cloud now making it's descent towards the ground. Particularly the augers you assumed. You shook your head. It was just a truck. You were supposed to drive away from the storm once you placed your equipment was what you thought you were supposed to do.

"Get out of here." he responded. You nodded, jumping into your truck, not even placing the seatbelt as the descending cloud met the ground. Your eyes met his truck as you made sure he was safely in and turned the key to your truck. You put it in reverse, pressing the gas, your tires spinning out.

"No no no!" you shouted, shifting it back in to gear once more, attempting to reverse. The tires shot mud into the windshield and windows. You didn't think it could get worse.

"Guys, I think this tornado is a higher rating than we initially thought it would be. I'd back up a bit. It's looking like a two or three." Boone's spotty voice came over the radio.

" My truck is stuck!" you responded. You put the truck into drive, met with the same response. You eyed your rearview mirror, the now much larger tornado stalking towards you.

"What do I do?!" you shouted, the panic evident in your voice. You watched as a farther out piece of equipment shook in the wind and was picked up. Your eyes widened. You were so fucked. Could you make it to Tyler's truck? Would the wind pick you up? Were his doors even unlocked? You didn't have time to think about it.

"What's going on city girl?!" he shouted into the radio, edge evident on his voice.

"My truck's stuck!" You shouted in response. You watched as the augers of his truck drove into the ground and you knew you didn't have time to make it. At this point all you could do was drive your tires as far as you could into the ground and hope for the best. Get the cab as close to the ground as possible.

You pressed your foot to the floor, driving your tires deeper into the ground, mud slinging up and all over the truck. All he could do was watch it unfold.

The wind soon shook your truck, the roar becoming overbearing. You thought your eardrums would burst and you didn't want to know what it was like outside. You truck rattled, and your panic was at its highest. Your foot continued to push the pedal as deep as it would go into the floor. You faintly heard Tyler shouting over the radio, but couldn't understand a word of what he said. Your second day and you were a fuck up again. Tears watered your eyes and your breathing worsened.

The truck rattled loose as you heard Boone admit over the radio very loudly that the tornado was most likely a three or four and you should really be getting out of there. Too late for that one Boone.

The truck began to drag through the mud, across the terrain, still upright along with what you thought was the edge of the tornado. It wasn't as fancy as Tyler's truck, but it was still not only heavy, but heavy duty. All you could do was scream, and before the tornado left you to your own vices, you found yourself flipped upside down, the roof crunched down as it flipped, your eyes screwed shut, your screaming the only sound you could hear, hail shattered a window at some point, and the rain pelted your skin like needles.

Your breathing was heavy as the tornado receded, furthering itself from you. Your eyes remained shut, you gripped your seatbelt tight as it dug into your hands. If your episode yesterday was a panic attack then this was something far far worse.

You finally opened your eyes, your shaky hands reaching to unbuckle the seatbelt. Your head and back hit the roof of the crunched car, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care about the glass embedding itself into your hands and back.

You heard Tyler shouting your name over the radio as you shuffled around, trying to crawl out of the vehicle. You opened the middle console, its contents pouring next to you and grabbed the window breaker, slamming it into the corner of the driver's side window. He'd made it to the window, attempting to aid your escape. The glass shattered after a second hit and you crawled over it. You needed to walk off this adrenaline.

You turned from Tyler once you were standing, wiping at your eyes, walking away from your truck and him. You heard tires on the dirt around you, the vanguard pulling up in the distance. You turned back to Tyler once your crying had ceased, walking back to take in the sight of your truck. An EF3, possibly, tornado, and you made it out without being thrown from the ground by some sort of miracle. You were a good distance from his own truck. Probably a few hundred feet. He'd run from that far so quickly. You eyed for the trenches you'd dug with your tires. You deemed them deep enough.

"What. The. Fuck." you said to yourself. Your hand grazed over your flipped truck.

"Help me flip it over." you said. You didn't know if you'd have the strength to push it over, but you'd try. If only the top was smashed, it was surely still drive-able once it got a couple new windows. The vanguard helped to push your truck back to its tires. You tried the key, and it didn't turn over. Tears already met your eye line again and you huffed out in frustration.

You hopped down from the driver's seat and popped the hood, your radiator smashed to pieces from being dragged along the terrain.

"You're hurt city girl, we need to check you out." Tyler said, quiet, tall enough to meet your gaze as you sat in the driver's seat of the truck once more.

"Please, please just stop. I'm not even from the city Tyler! I moved there after my brother died in an EF4 tornado in my college town. I didn't want to be around this shit again." you responded, waving your hands as you talked in frustration before bringing them down to the steering wheel.

"It's the only way I could get a scholarship to finish school."

His eyes met your own, and you felt a little bad for bursting, your chest rapidly rising and falling, but the city wasn't in your roots. This was. You realized your equipment was still out. Or what may be left of it.

"I need to check my equipment." you said. He nodded, no answer to your previous statement in mind as you began the trek to his truck and your equipment.

Once you got there, you were more than delighted to find it had all survived. You pulled your notebook from the pocket of your pants and began to diligently record the readings they had. Surely you could get great readings from this tornado.

Tyler began to load up your equipment as you recorded the readings into the laptop you had excavated from your truck. You made Tyler's passenger seat your own again as you all had heard the tornado would hit a small town and you wanted to be there for relief efforts.

You made the decision to leave your truck and have it towed once it was safe to do so and the tornado was off of the ground. He set off towards the town that was hit.

"You need to get checked out once we make it there. I know it isn't bad but it's worth getting any glass out." he said.

"Yeah." you murmured softly, eyes continuing to analyze the data you entered into your computer.

"I'm sorry about before. Your town getting hit. And for the record, your major isn't dumb. It's pretty badass." he responded. You huffed out a small laugh in response, shaking your head.

"No. I was full of adrenaline. Who gets out of that without a truck all souped up like yours?" you asked. He shrugged in response.

"You did. Maybe your college should provide better equipment." he responded, lips drawing to a taught line.

"Not everyone can have an insane truck without a head like yours to think it up, Tyler." you responded.

---

You pulled up to the town and the devastation was like nothing you'd ever seen before. Clearly there hadn't been a good warning system for this town. Did they even have sirens?

You hopped out of the truck, transported to the day your brother died all over again, destruction all around. Your boots crunched the remnants of homes torn to shreds and littered across the pavement. Your eyes raked the path ahead of you in lieu of finding anyone who may need help. Your brother.

Your gaze was torn back to your vehicles as Boone announced the tornado had finally rescinded. They began pulling out the food and water they stored from donations for situations such as this.

You let them do that part and focused on what you knew as your eyes scoured the terrain for anyone in need of help. Your ears began to ring, tears gathering at your eye line as you were brought back to your search for your brother.

You didn't realize you had made it a quarter mile down the straight shot street, your cars nearly dots in your vision. It didn't look like anyone had made their way as far as you had yet. You heard a shout for help, your eyes scanning the terrain before you saw a mop of dusty dark hair peeking through the rubble. You ran, hopping over debris, doing anything to make it to him. Your breath heightened, and you almost called out your brother's name, your breath caught in your throat.

"I'm here!" you called out instead, in hope, continuing your barrage through the rubble with no concern to if it was hurting you or not. You made it to what once was the second story roof of the house, climbing up the remnants. You made it to him.

Besides dust, and not a way out, he seemed alright. A young boy peered at you through a sturdy window, blocked in to the sturdy walls of a room he chose to hunker down in. Smart boy. Strong room.

"Are you in here alone?" you asked. He nodded.

"My mom and dad are at work." he responded tearily.

You nodded, hands feeling across your pockets for your window breaker. You were glad you'd kept it on you. You pulled it from the large pocket on the front of your overalls where you'd earlier discarded it.

"Get back as far as you safely can. I'm gonna break the window okay?" He nodded in response, slowly backing away from the window. You peered inside, awaiting a thumbs up or confirmation from him. You nodded in return to his own.

You reared the window breaker back, slamming it into the corner as hard as you could. You flinched away from the cracking glass as it shattered. It was as loud as a gun shot. You felt small pieces hit your arms. Must've been some pretty strong windows.

You fisted your palms, punching away at any large pieces that remained amongst the frame until you deemed it safe for him to get through. Yours were already bloodied from the glass earlier, may as well keep it going for the better of humanity.

You beckoned him forward with your hands, holding your arms out to come to you. He slowly stepped over the many pieces of what was once his home, making it to you. You grabbed at his hand, squeezing it tightly and pulling him to you. He couldn't have been more than five or six years old.

You stood, haphazardly, careful now that you had cargo. You eyed the distance where everyone had been and found familiar faces making their way towards you.

Once you made it to solid ground you paced quickly to them. Someone, anyone that could help more than you could. Boone had made it to the two of you first, reaching his arms out in question. You stared into his eyes for a long time, assessing, before handing the boy off to him. He began to run, presumably towards EMS so the boy could receive medical attention. You hoped his parents would return soon.

Lily gave a strong few pats to your shoulder, allowing you praises for noticing the boy before jogging to Boone. You watched as Tyler continued to run to your location. You began walking toward him; meet him halfway.

Your boots hit a piece of the rubble and you tumbled down as quickly as the house next to you had. Two large hands encircled your upper arms and your eyes met his shortly after in realization, widening.

You're brought back to the day your brother went missing. Died. Something about Tyler had felt familiar, an inkling settled into the back of your mind that hadn't quite pushed its way to the front. It was definitely him that day.

His grip eased and you squatted back onto your heels, eyeing the sunset in the glass scattered across the ground. His hand enveloped your wrists, pouring water atop the dried crimson spattering them. Tears threatened your water line and you blinked them away, you could almost laugh at the prospect.

"So it's you." he spoke to the air. You waited a long time before nodding in response.

"It's me." You watched the breeze ruffle away at his sandy hair.

"Why were you there that day?" he asks. He wanted your story. You had one to give.

"My brother died that night. There was no warning. I was in my undergraduate with my sustainability club. I was none the wiser. Thought my family was safe like always. I didn't know until we got there that it had hit my brother's place head on. He was gone and no one knew until I got there. I told my family right after I had run into you. Haven't heard from him. There was no trace. He was just… gone." you responded, quiet over the sirens. You weren't sure he had even heard.

"I'm glad I was there. To help you, I mean. I'm sorry we couldn't catch it in time for more of an advanced warning. I'll always regret it. I think it's the last large tornado I chased that resulted in deaths. I'll always remember it. My first one out East." he responded. You nodded.

"I'd have been able to call him if the broadcast hadn't cut off. It was coming for me and the path changed. I was in my safe spot. I'm not even sure he had one." Your eyes met his own for a long while before he broke contact with a nod. He eased you to your feet and you began the slow trek back to the truck.

You reluctantly sat atop the bumper of an EMS truck as you were evaluated, steri-strips applied to particularly deeper abrasions. Tyler sat next to you the entire time. You wiped your skin with a cool damp cloth, the sterility quickly soiled. You were excited to go back and take a shower. Though you wouldn't mind a beer or two first.

Your conversation in the truck was light. Before you could even call a tow truck, Tyler had already done it previously as you'd been patched up. You eyed him from the side and that same cocky smile met you in return. You made your wishes for a beer known to him and then to the rest of the group behind you.

Your professor finally obliged to email you back and you found your purpose amongst the wranglers. Certain fungi and bacteria can be unearthed from strong tornadoes that highly affect the body when breathed in. You were there to catch a trace of that.

As you sat atop the same barstool you'd claimed two days previously, you ordered the same pitcher of beer, this time to share. You carefully poured the amber liquid into your frosted glass, eyeing the dirt under your fingernails. You swiped a finger alongside your nose, but before you could set it atop the foam, you found another finger settled atop it.

You also found you didn't mind it.

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