Greg shivered under his bright blue duvet, flinching away from the loud rumbles coming from outside. His curtains light up with the electric lighting and Greg gasped. Rain blasted against the glass, running down and illuminated by the lightning, casting grim shadows on the carpet.
"Mommy!" the terrified boy shouted. But it wasn't Blythe who came. Greg buried himself further under the covers when he heard the familiar sound of heavy footsteps. John opened his son's door and saw the shivering ball of six year old. Greg was sweating profusely, his curly hair sticky with fear. Tears welled at the corners of his eyes as the noises from outside in combination with the presence of his father overwhelmed and scared him. Greg rolled himself up tightly, fully expecting to be smacked for his childishness and told to get over it.
"Greg, there's nothing to be frightened of" John said in an uncharacteristically calm and comforting voice. The boy stopped shaking and a blonde head poked out from the top of the covers.
"But it's so loud Daddy"
"I know. But the thunder won't hurt you"
"What about the flashing?"
"It's called lightning, and it's miles and miles away"
"Promise?"
"I promise. Would you like to come to our room?" John offered. Greg looked shocked. He hadn't been allowed to sleep with his parents since he turned two. He had had to soothe himself through nightmares and worries.
"Yes please" he whispered, still half expecting his father to be pulling a horrible joke on him, and perhaps he would reveal it when they got to his parent's bedroom. Greg flinched as John extended his arms.
"Shh, it's okay" John said as though coaxing a small animal from a hiding place. He scooped his son into his arms and pulled his head onto his shoulder. John stroked the child's warm, damp blonde curls tenderly. He had missed his son after his year long tour of Pakistan. John carried Greg through to his bedroom and placed him gently on the bed next to his mother. The man climbed into the warm spot he had left and rolled over so his hand was resting on Greg's head. Blythe rolled over and touched her son's tiny hand. Greg was asleep in minutes, and his parents smiled at each other over his head.