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Lightning flashed and thunder roiled. Rain blew in sheets against the small capsule house, crashing like waves against the gently curved window. Wind streaming over the valley in screaming bursts. Gohan pulled his blanket up to shield his eyes from the flickering light that danced between the clouds.
A small boy darted into his room, diving beneath the covers and curling up against Gohan’s chest.
“Is it Daddy?” His voice soft and insistent.
“Goten, go to bed,” Gohan groaned even as he instinctively hugged the boy closer.
“You said when it was like this then Daddy was watching. Is it Daddy? At this time of night?” Goten asked, snuggling close and poking Gohan's chest.
Gohan clenched his eyes shut a little tighter. When Goten had been a toddler he had been frightened of these storms, how they tore over them every few months. Gohan had found the only way to settle him was to tell him stories of Goku, his adventures and kindness, and the two had become entwined in Goten’s mind.
“Yeah, squirt. It’s Dad. He’s singing us lullabies as best he can.”
There was a short silence where another peal of thunder rumbled.
“Daddy’s a pretty crappy singer…”