Matt pressed his face into his sodden pillow which was wet with his salty tears. His sobs were quiet now, though his body still wracked with furious shivers as he tried to calm his breathing and settle into the softness of the mattress. Beside him his father slumped in a hard, plastic chair, awake but lost in his own thoughts of his eldest son. Matty rolled over to face his Dad, the sheets rustling as he moved. Startled by the sound, Tom looked up and gave Matty a weak smile, wiping a glistening tear off the young boy's soft, pale cheek; before falling retreating back into his own mind, staring blankly into the distance. Matt wriggled and lowered his eyes, counting the tiles on the floor in an effort to distract himself from the sadness.

"Whenever I had nightmares or was upset, Hal-no matter what time it was, or how tired he felt-would let me climb into his bed and sing to me." he whispered quietly, more to himself than his father.

Tom glanced down at his youngest son again, just registering his words as Matt's memories became clearer and he felt a small smile escape his lips.

"He was really good. Mom always said he had the voice of an angel and he could sing whatever he liked and it would always sound amazing. Sometimes Hal used to share his own songs with me. Only me though…it was like our little secret."

Tom nodded slowly, stroking Matt's forehead affectionately with his warm, smooth thumb and listening intently as Matty continued.

"He was always scribbling in that notebook…you know the one he carried everywhere? Still has it I think, somewhere, hidden in his stuff. He was always writing songs, then spending hours at school practising the on his guitar. Hal's music teachers were so impressed they offered to teach him how to play other instruments for free…I remember when Hal told me that night…he was so happy, and that made me happy. We stayed up half that night just chatting about it. Mum caught us in the end though, and so Hal told her and she was so proud of him she didn't even punish us."

Tom smiled, imagining his late wife's reaction, then frowned, his eyebrows knotting together.

"Why didn't he tell me?"

Matt sat up in bed, resting his head on his father's shoulder as Tom wrapped his arms around the shivering nine year old.

"He was determined to make it a special surprise. There was a concert we were going to go to before the…invasion." Matty drew a tight, nervous breath "Hal was planning to play then, on stage, in front of everyone."

Matt hesitated, fresh tears spilling down his raw cheeks and he turned, gripping his father's jacket tightly in his fists as he sobbed into his chest.

"I miss then. I want to go back to when Mom was alive, and Hal and Ben were always bickering and we used to play football in the garden."

Tom kissed the top of his Matt's forehead but remained silence; allowing Matt to vent his emotion, sensing that there was nothing even he could say to console Matt. When Matt could cry no more he slipped quickly back into bed, pulling the sheets up close around him.

"Hal doesn't sing to me so often now. He's always on patrol or helping Captain Weaver."

Tom ducked his head, fiddling with the zip of his jacket somewhat guiltily as Matt adjusted his pillow.

"Dad?"

Tom turned to face the boy, staring into his deep blue eyes.

"You won't leave me will you? Not again?"

Tom grabbed Matt's small hands, intertwining their fingers and leaned closer, so that their faces were inches apart and Matt could feel his father's hot breath on his face.

"I will never-ever- leave you boys again, you hear me? Not Ben or you or Hal. We'll bring him back Matty, just like we did Ben.

Matt nodded slowly, a wry smile spreading across his lips. Tom released his hands and settled back into the hard chair with a sigh.

"And Dad?"

"Yes Matty?"

"Will you sing to me?"

"Sure thing, son."

His father found a comfortable position-well as comfortable as he could be-and closed his eyes, softly humming a forgotten lullaby from a lost soldier in a past war. Matt couldn't understand any of the mumbled words but the sweet, calming melody was enough and soon his eyelids grew heavy and he fell into a satisfying, exhausted sleep.