Storms. One of the most naturally occurring terrors for children. There's only one real way to escape them and that is wrapped in a parent's arms.
Which is why Michael woke in the middle of the night amidst flashes of light and large grumbles of thunder to a tiny body crawling across his legs.
He murmured incoherently to the little girl that crawled up to the lip of the covers, and pulled them up for her to slip inside. Without saying a word, Gemma slid close to Michael's chest and pushed her nose against his shoulder. It was quiet for a second, then a bright flash of lighting filled the room.
Gemma gasped softly and pressed closer to her father. He wrapped his arms around her and tapped Sara softly on the shoulder to wake her.
Small sniffs erupted from his daughter and he smiled slightly, feeling her warmth through his shirt.
"Shh," he soothed as he rubbed her back gently and glanced over at Sara. Her eyes were bleary as she looked at the two wrapped together.
"Hey Gemma," she murmered groggily. "Was daddy scared?"
Michael rolled his eyes but grinned. Gemma gave a hiccuped laugh and shook her head.
"I'm scared of the storm. It's so loud."
"I know," Sara said softly, shifting so that she sandwiched the little body in between her and Michael. "But storms end. It's going to be alright."
There was another flash from outside and Gemma let out a little squeak. The flash was followed by a loud rumble about five seconds later.
"Do you know what we're going to do?" Michael asked, pulling her face away slightly to look at her shadowed face. Gemma shook her head. "We're going to count."
Both Sara and Gemma looked confused so he continued.
"Between the lightning and the thunder we're going to count okay?" He demonstrated to his daughter. "One hippopotamus, two hippopotamus, three hippopotamus. Then we'll know when it's going away. Okay?"
Gemma nodded, bunching his shirt up as her forehead rubbed it against his chest. Sara gave him a thankful smile and he nodded slightly. The lightning came, illuminating the room for a second. Michael caught the terrified look in his daughters eye.
He started off the counting. "One hippopotamus..."
Sara chimed in quickly to encourage Gemma. "Two hippopotamus..."
Finally, Gemma softly joined them, slightly behind so she could mimic the numbers. "Three hippopopomis, four hippopopomis."
When the thunder came again, she pushed closer to him but didn't make a sound.
"It's okay," he said reassuringly and rubbed her back again.
When the lightning flashed outside the windows, he took a deep breath.
"Ready? One hippopotamus..."
When the storm had died down, he held the sleeping bundle in his arms, enjoying her slow breathing. He gave her a hug and she looked up to his face before opening her mouth sluggishly. "One hippopopomis..."