"It isn't that bad."
"Yes it is!"
"It's just a little storm, Neil!"
"You don't know that!"
"But the weather channel said-"
"I don't care! They're wrong! The weather channel is always wrong!"
Neil and Wheatley argued back and forth endlessly. Neil was perched at the foot of the bed, legs pulled up to his chest. Meanwhile Wheatley was sat on his side of the bed, arms crossed firmly across his chest. He grunted in annoyance.
"Neil, just get over here." He commanded.
"No." Neil replied coldly. They both exchanged a series of agitated huffs and puffs at each other. Wheatley swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He made his way to where Neil was stationed and sat down beside him. He patted Neil's shoulder in a reassuring fashion.
"I don't know what you're so worried about. It's a tiny storm. A little speck of a thing, really. Trust me. It's only rain. Just rain. Nothing else. You're fine." He insisted. Before he could continue further, though, he was interrupted by the sound of a low rumble in the distance. The pair paused to listen and the noise repeated itself. The red head's blood went cold at this and Wheatley stood up quickly. "Ah, okay, uh, well. Maybe I was wrong. But- but then again, it's not too bad, yeah?" he rambled. "It sounds like it's, uh, I don't know maybe... five, six, seven... ah... Well, it sounds pretty far from here so it's nothing to worry ab-".
Before Wheatley's drivel could continue a torrent of rain began pounding on the roof and a series of whip cracks pervaded the atmosphere, effectively lighting up the dimmed room. Neil jumped to his feet and instinctively let out a short, shrill shriek.
"Shhh! Shh shh shh!". Wheatley shushed him fearfully. Any louder and the neighbors would have surely woken up. The gangly man sank to the floor, eyes shut tight and trembling fingers clamped over his ears. The brunette looked down at him pitifully. He squatted down next to him, running his fingers through his messy hair. "Oh, Spacey..." he sighed. A repeat of the previous lightning strike and Neil curled up even tighter.
"Close them..." he whimpered fearfully.
"What?" Wheatley asked, confused.
"The curtains... C-close the curtains... Please..." he repeated. The shorter one of the two popped up and immediately drew the ivory curtains shut. This way, the flash produced by the lightning didn't come through as easily.
"There! Problem solved. No window, no lightning. Right?". Wheatley asked hopefully. Neil peered up at him, eyes still full of terror. "...Oh. Right. You don't fancy the noise either, huh? Riiiiight..." he added. They both frowned, knowing that was really all they could do to solve the problem at that point in time.
"... I'm still scared..." the red head muttered.
"Yeah, I know, mate..." he replied sadly. Wheatley took a step forward and held out a hand for Neil. Neil accepted it and got to his feet. "Do you want to lay down now?" he asked. Neil only nodded slowly.
The two of them climbed back into bed and pulled the covers over them. Neil was quick to wriggle his way over to Wheatley and cling to him as much as possible. The two lay huddled together there, waiting out the storm.
"Why don't you just go to sleep already? I can't stay awake much longer..." Wheatley said. Neil simply shook his head. The Brit let out a sigh of exhaustion and stared up at the ceiling. The shadows in the room had obscured the texture of it. "... Neil, why are you so afraid of thunderstorms?" Wheatley asked.
"I don't want to talk about it..." He insisted. Wheatley smirked, rubbing circles into the red head's back.
"You always say that. Can't really take this fear seriously if I don't understand it, can I?". Before Neil had the chance to respond, an enormous bout of thunder bellowed through the sky, effectively shutting them both up and sending waves of vibrations through the house. About five seconds of silence commenced before Neil buried his face in Wheatley's shirt and began to sob. Wheatley held him close, trying his best to console him but to no avail. "Oh God...".