FC's Fear
The storm outside rattled against the windows, wind howling through the cracks like some unseen force trying to claw its way inside. Rain pattered against the glass in an erratic rhythm, matching the uneasy beat of FC’s heart.
Puppet sat on the couch, a book open in her hands, though she hadn’t turned a page in a while. She could feel FC’s restless energy from across the room. He was pretending to be unfazed, lazily flipping through channels on the TV, but she knew better.
“Storm getting to you?” she asked gently.
FC snorted. “Please. I’ve been through worse.”
Puppet tilted her head. “That’s not what I meant.”
He tensed but didn’t answer right away. The flickering blue light of the TV cast shadows across his face, making it hard to read his expression. Puppet waited, patient as ever.
After a long silence, FC sighed and tossed the remote aside. “I dunno,” he muttered. “Storms just make me think too much.”
Puppet closed her book and set it aside. “About what?”
He didn’t look at her when he answered. “About how fast things can go wrong.”
The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken meaning. Puppet’s expression softened.
“You’re thinking about me, aren’t you?” Puppet said jokingly.
FC’s jaw tightened. “Not everything is about you,” he said, but there was no real bite to it. He hesitated before sighing and running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… you’re here now. But what if one day you’re not?”
Puppet expression had morphed into a surprised one then softened and shifted closer, giving him space but making sure he knew she was there. “FC…”
He finally met her gaze, his usual bravado stripped away. “I don’t think about it,” he admitted. “Not most of the time. But then something stupid happens—like a storm, or some dumb nightmare—and suddenly I can’t stop.” His voice lowered. “I lost my dad once, y’know. I got him back, but... I don’t think I could do it again. Not with you.”
Puppet reached out, resting a hand on his arm. “I’m not planning on going anywhere.”
FC let out a shaky breath. “You can’t promise that.”
“No,” she agreed softly. “But I can promise that, as long as I have a choice, I’ll be here. And even if something did happen… you wouldn’t be alone. You have your dad. You have people who care about you.”
FC swallowed hard, like he wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words. He looked down, staring at her hand on his arm, then slowly—hesitantly—turned his own palm up, letting her hold it. Puppet squeezed gently, grounding him.
For a long time, they just sat there, listening to the storm outside. Eventually, FC leaned his head back against the couch, exhaling deeply. “...Can we just watch something dumb?”
Puppet smiled. “Of course.”
She reached for the remote, putting on something lighthearted, and FC let himself relax—just a little. The storm raged on outside, but inside, in this small, quiet moment, he felt safe.
As the movie played, FC found himself cuddled up onto Puppet. He didn't say anything, and neither did she, but she was combing throw his fur in a comforting way, he could feel the warmth of her presence. It was a quiet reassurance, one that he desperately needed but would never admit out loud.
Halfway through the movie, the rain intensified, hammering against the windows with renewed force. A loud crack of thunder rattled the apartment, making the lights flicker. FC flinched ever so slightly, but Puppet’s comforting hand kept him grounded.
“Still with me?” she murmured.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Just… wasn’t expecting that.”
Puppet chuckled softly. “Storms are unpredictable like that. Kind of like life.”
FC scoffed. “Great. Real comforting.”
She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “It’s not supposed to be comforting. It’s just the truth. But you don’t have to face it alone.”
FC stared at the screen, but his mind was elsewhere. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe that she’d always be here, that he wouldn’t have to feel that awful emptiness ever again. But deep down, a small part of him knew—nothing was guaranteed.
Puppet watched him, and something about his quiet, vulnerable posture struck her deeply. She had always cared about him, of course, but it wasn’t until now that she fully realized just how much he saw her as family—how much he feared losing her. She had assumed he saw her as just another presence in his life, someone who helped out and was there when needed. But this? This was different.
“FC…” she hesitated, then gently ruffled his hair, trying to mask the emotion welling up inside her. “You really do see me as a mom, huh?”
FC stiffened at first, then huffed, rolling his eyes. “You’re just now figuring that out?”
She blinked, caught off guard by the casualness of his response. “I—”
“I mean, yeah, I don’t go around saying it, but…” He fidgeted, staring ahead. “You matter, alright? A lot.” He exhaled through his nose. “I just… I dunno what I’d do if I lost you.”
Puppet felt her chest tighten in a way that was both overwhelming and deeply warm. She had never expected this—not really. But the realization settled over her like a quiet, comforting weight. She had a place here, in his life. And he needed her just as much as he needed his dad, maybe even more in some ways.
She gave him a soft smile, one that held everything she couldn’t quite put into words. “Well… lucky for you, I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
FC didn’t say anything, but after a moment, he leaned just closer to her again, and she let him.
The storm continued outside, wild and unrelenting, but inside, things felt a little quieter. A little safer.
And for now, that was enough.