Jenny was woken up by a light sob, that echoed through their bedroom. She quickly turned towards the door, where their youngest stood.

"What is the matter, Timmy? Are you not feeling well?" she asked.

"No, I … I …" he sobbed.

That finally woke even Gibbs up.

"What is happening?" he grunted sleepily, "what has happened Tim?"

"Please… don't be mad," their son continued crying.

"Why should we be mad? Come here, honey, tell us, what is wrong," Jenny and Jethro moved aside and made space for their son.

Tim climbed up on the bed and Jenny started to rub his back to calm him down.

"So?" Jethro asked.

"I… I … am scared. I don't like storms," five-year old admitted.

"Oh, Timmy. Don't worry. You are inside and nothing is going to hurt you. And we can't be mad," Jenny reassured him.

"But you are never afraid, daddy."

"That is not true, Timmy, come here."

Tim put his arms around Jethro's neck a cuddled into him. Gibbs stroked his back and told him. "Tim, don't be scarred of thunders, there is no reason. But everybody has fears."

"What are you afraid of? You are a special agent, you are afraid of nothing." Timmy pointed out.

"No, I would not survive, if anything happened to you, to your mummy, or Kate or Tony," Jethro confessed.

Jenny smiled and moved towards her boys. Jethro put an arm around her and kissed her forehead.

"Do you want to sleep with us today?" Jenny asked.

Tim nodded.

"Okay, lay between us. Goodnight, son. Goodnight, Jen." Jethro kissed both of them, hugged his wife and son and drifted back to sleep.