Lullaby

"Ugh," Tim groaned, abruptly awakened from his peaceful slumber by the sound of his baby brother's crying. Rubbing his eyes and squinting in the dim light filtering through the curtains, Tim heaved a sleepy sigh. "Not again," he muttered to himself, pushing the covers off and warily stepping out of bed.

Shuffling across the hallway, Tim stumbled into his brother Ted's room, the cries growing louder with each step. As he flicked on the nightlight, he found Ted lying in his crib, tears streaming down his rosy cheeks. Tim sighed and leaned against the side of the crib, hoping to soothe his brother.

"Hey, little guy, what's wrong?" Tim asked, his voice laden with concern. Ted's cries softened for a moment, and he sniffled, gazing up at the older with large, watery eyes. Even as an infant, Ted seemed to have a flicker of recognition for his brother.

As Tim examined him, checking for any obvious signs of discomfort,he found nothing, no signs of a soiled diaper or any physical ailment that could be causing his distress. Tim gently cradled Ted in his arms, rocking him back and forth, hoping to soothe him. But Ted's cries only grew louder.

Puzzled, Tim searched the room for any possible triggers. He checked his temperature, making sure he wasn't sick. He tried adjusting the room's lighting, dimming it slightly in case the brightness was bothering his brother. Still, Ted continued to cry inconsolably.

As Tim's frustration began to rise, he racked his brain for any other possible reasons for Ted's distress. Suddenly, he remembered that earlier that day, his parents had mentioned a new toy they had bought for Ted.

Curiosity piqued, Tim tiptoed out of the room and made his way downstairs to where the new toy was stored. Carefully, he retrieved the bright blue stuffed dinosaur his parents had mentioned. The moment he brought it close to Ted, the crying ceased, and a wide, toothless smile spread across his brother's face.

Amazed, Tim couldn't help but laugh in relief and joy. It seemed that this simple stuffed dinosaur had become Ted's new favorite toy, bringing him both comfort and happiness. Tim carefully placed the dinosaur next to Ted, hoping that it would help lull him back to sleep. However, as he settled back into bed, Tim couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right.

Sure enough, just as he closed his eyes, the familiar sound of Ted's cries filled the room once more. What's wrong, Ted?" Tim whispered, sitting up again. He was exhausted, but he couldn't ignore his brother's distress.

Tim got out of bed and tiptoed to Ted's crib. He found his little brother tossing and turning, his tiny fists clenched tightly. Tim's heart sank as he realized that the dinosaur toy hadn't worked its magic this time.

Gently scooping Ted into his arms, Tim began pacing around the room, trying to soothe him. As he walked, he noticed how Ted's eyes were fixated on something in the corner of the room. Tim turned his head, following Ted's gaze, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"Ted, what are you looking at?" Tim questioned softly, hoping his brother would provide some answers. But all Ted did was cry louder, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks.

Tim's patience wore thin as he desperately tried to make sense of the situation. He had tried everything - comforting gestures, feeding, diaper changing - but nothing seemed to soothe Ted's relentless crying.

Desperate for a solution, Tim scrambled through his memories, searching for something that had always worked in the past. And then it hit him - their special song, and with a glimmer of hope, Tim softly began to sing.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night."

As the familiar tune filled the room, Tim watched Ted's crying gradually subside. His tiny fists slowly unclenched, and his eyes shifted from a look of distress to one of curiosity. Ted's tear-streaked face transformed into a wide-eyed gaze, fixated on his older brother.

"Take these broken wings and learn to fly."

Tim kept singing, his voice gentle and soothing. Memories of nights his parents sat in his room, singing this very song, flooded Tim's mind. He remembered how it always brought a sense of peace and calm to him, a reassurance that everything would be alright.

"All your life."

The lyrics flowed effortlessly from Tim's lips, a lullaby that their parents had written just for them. It was a song they had enjoyed together, a secret melody only they knew. It was a symbol of their bond, a reminder that no matter how tough things got, they were in it together.

"You were only waiting for this moment to arise."

As Tim's song reached its gentle crescendo, Ted's crying ceased completely. His wide eyes slowly began to droop, heavy with the weight of exhaustion. Tim continued to sing, his voice lower now, wrapping Ted in a cocoon of tranquility.

With each verse, the room became still, filled only with the soft hum of Tim's voice. Ted's tiny body relaxed into the safety of his brother's arms, his breathing deepening into rhythmic slumber. Tim's heart swelled with relief, knowing that he had found the key.

"Now, back to the crib-" Tim's voice trailed off as he realized they weren't in Ted's room any longer. Instead, Tim found himself in his own bedroom, surrounded by the familiar glow of his nightlight and the comforting scent of his own belongings.

Confusion washed over Tim as he gazed down at the slumbering form of his baby brother, nestled in the crook of his arm. How had they ended up here?

"Alright," Tim mumbled "You're sleeping with me today."

--

"Janice! You have to see this!" Ted called out excitedly, his voice echoing through the hallway. Janice, who had been engrossed in a book, hastily put it down and rushed towards the bedroom.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, concern evident in her voice as she entered the bedroom to find Ted standing near the bed, a big grin on his face.

Janice's eyes widened as she took in the scene before them. Tim, their older son, was peacefully curled up on one side of the bed, his arms wrapped protectively around his baby brother, with a content smile on his face.