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It was the rumbling that woke David. A deep-chested growl that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house. Or at least it seemed that way to a four-year-old. He blinked in the near-darkness of his room, illuminated faintly by the nightlight in the corner. What had made that sound?
A flash from the window threw his room into bright light for an instant, and that same terrible rumbling sound issued forth again. David was terrified. He was still young, and hadn't had the joy of experiencing his first thunderstorm yet.
He jumped out of his Big Boy Bed and hurried down the hall to his parent's room. The door was slightly ajar, so he didn't bother knocking. That was one of his Daddy's rules: if a door is closed, always knock first.
It was pitch-dark inside, but David made his way to the right side of the bed, where his Papa always slept. "Papa!" He said as quietly as he could, giving the man's shoulder a shake to wake him. "Papa!"
Groggily Erik opened one eye. His son was trying to rouse him. His frightened son.
Erik was instantly alert. "David? What's wrong?"
At that moment another brilliant flash of lightning lit up the sky outside their window, accompanied by an animalistic thundering growl. The mirror on the dresser rattled from the force.
Erik understood, and gave a small but reassuring smile. "You want to sleep with me and Daddy?" At David's tentative nod he threw back the covers. "Alright. But be gentle with your Daddy. He needs his rest, you understand?"
David climbed in the bed, moving over Erik carefully before wiggling between his parents. This was the most comfortable spot, his sister said. He nestled into the warm sheets and closed his eyes, not noticing that his Daddy was awake now too, and looking at him fondly.
"Is it the storm?" Charles asked in a whispered voice. At Erik's nod he smiled - a soft, mother's smile - and dropped a kiss to his son's downy hair.
Something poked his shoulder.
He turned his head as far left as he can. Moving was difficult for him these days. He saw the top of a green head of hair.
"What is it, Lorna?"
"I had a bad dream. Can I sleep with you and Papa?" Charles glanced at Erik, who was smirking that insufferable shark smirk of his.
"Of course, baby. But get in on the other side. Your brother is here too - try not to wake him." She didn't even complain about the endearment before getting into the bed - this dream must've been especially bad.
Their daughter found her own spot between them. She was an old pro at this; even before David was born she would always find her way into her parent's room to wriggle between them. Comes with the territory of having nightmares.
After a few minutes, when he was sure both kids were sleeping again, Erik let himself chuckle. "Amazing what our lives have become, Charles. Two kids with trouble sleeping."
Charles huffed in a silent laugh. "Perhaps it's hereditary," he whispered.
Erik heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Always the geneticist."
"Yes, but I'm your geneticist."
Erik leaned over, careful not to disturb their son and daughter, and kissed Charles lightly. "You are, aren't you?" He reached out to run his hand over the growing bump of the other man's stomach. "We'll just have to wait and see if you're right."
Charles covered Erik's hand with his own. "Yes. Yes we will."
"But if you are right," Erik deadpanned, "we're gonna need a bigger bed."
In reply they felt the flutter of a kick from below their hands.
Charles couldn't help the snort of laughter. The babies were Erik's kids through and through. He rubbed the side of the swell, hoping to coax them back into rest. It was still late yet, and a pair of active babies would not do him or his back any favors.
David stirred. Whimpered a bit in his sleep. Erik ran a comforting hand through his hair while Lorna unconsciously curled closer to him. Even asleep she was a good big sister. And now she would have two new little ones to look after. Charles felt his chest tighten a bit at the thought, and his eyes stung. Damn pregnancy hormones.
"Four more weeks," he heard Erik say. He smiled.
"Four more weeks."