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Autumn rains almost always lashed London's houses with force; it was commonplace, and society had to accept it as part of its routine, planning tasks and outings with the abundant downpours and possible storms in mind. Easy to explain to adults, but how to make a child understand? A child who was just beginning to grasp these things?
That night, for some reason, the storm seemed determined not to let up. The wind made it sound even louder against the roof of the house, and the thunder offered no comfort to little Melody, who lay in her bed staring out the window. She had been awakened by a lightning strike not long ago. In the solitude and darkness of her room, the only light she received was from the flashes of lightning that seemed like sparks filtering through her curtains.
She was the one who had insisted on sleeping in her own bed for the past few weeks, but she hadn't thought something like this could be a problem. Her parents had warned her about the storms, and yet her resolve hadn't wavered. So there she was, torn between two things, wondering whether she should go to their room or simply bear the consequences of her request.
Taking her stuffed rabbit, she lay back down, pulling the blankets up to her head and clutching the plush animal for comfort.
And suddenly, another flash of white light, and seconds later, a lightning bolt even stronger than the last.
Melody gasped and jumped out of bed. She no longer liked the idea of being "a big girl," and she wasn't ready for it. Putting her stuffed animal aside, her footsteps hurried across the carpet to her front door, which she flung open. She peered into the hallway; the only window at the end offered her any visibility through the distant flashes of lightning. Silently, and as fast as her little feet could carry her, she ran to her parents' room.
Without knocking, she simply grasped the doorknob and carefully opened the door. Peeking in, she quickly found the bed where they both slept, the one that until recently had also been her bed. After entering, she closed the door again and approached with soft steps, as if what she was doing was a crime. When she reached the right side of the bed, she found her father, William, asleep, as if this storm hadn't bothered him much at all.
"Daddy..." she whispered, touching his shoulder covered by the blankets. But he didn't seem to hear her. "Daddy."
She insisted again, maintaining the same tone of voice. Her lips formed a pout, and now both hands were on his shoulder, gently shaking him.
Despite her persistence, William's sleep remained as deep as ever.
A soft sob escaped Melody's lips as she realized that perhaps her plan wasn't going to work. Trying once more, now with a little more volume, her body stiffened at the sound of a loud clap of thunder. Her little hands trembled and clutched the sheets. She had decided that, regardless of his father's permission, she would sleep there that night.
As she was lifting one of her legs, a murmur interrupted her. On the other side of the bed, her other father began to get up, which made Melody's face light up.
"Melody?" Sherlock whispered, still half asleep, noticing the little girl dressed in her ruffled pajamas.
"Daddy," she whimpered sadly, She let go of the sheets and ran to the other side of the bed, where her other father could see her more clearly.
"What's wrong, sweetheart? It's still late," he said in a low voice so as not to wake his husband.
Melody clutched the covers again, looking at him sadly and embarrassed.
"I can't sleep... the storm scares me..." she stammered, avoiding his eyes.
Sherlock could only manage a smile. They had both seen it coming, although he had to admit it took longer than they expected.
"I see, come here." Lifting the covers with one arm, he gestured with his head for her to climb up and lie down beside him.
A smile graced the blue-haired girl's face. Without further delay, she crawled up to settle next to Sherlock, snuggling against his chest, almost curling into a ball. The man could only chuckle softly at how quickly she'd climbed up. Pulling the covers down, he tucked her in, making sure no cold air got in.
"Dad didn't wake up when I called him..."
"Your father is a deep sleeper; even I sometimes have trouble waking him," he replied, settling in again to hug her somewhat tightly and rest his chin on his daughter's head.
"I don't want to be a big girl yet. Can I sleep here with you and Dad again?” she whispered, lifting her head to meet Sherlock's gaze.
Sherlock just sighed and smiled.
—At some point you're going to have to sleep alone, Mel, if not today, then tomorrow.
"What if it's not tomorrow?"
"It'll be the day after tomorrow." Melody frowned and pouted.
""And can I sleep here when it's raining hard?""
Sherlock considered this for a moment. It certainly reminded him of himself as a child; he hadn't been very keen on the idea of sleeping alone on stormy nights either. More than once, he'd ended up in his brother's room.
"Fine, when it's raining hard then."
"And when I have nightmares?"
"Also."
"And when I see a monster in my room?"
"Mel, monsters don't exist, sweetheart," He murmured, closing his eyes again.
"Yes, they do. I've seen them." Bringing one of her little hands to Sherlock's face, she gently poked his cheek with her finger.
"No, they don't exist..." he replied, closer to sleep. "Sleep, sweetheart, we have to wake up early."
"Okay~" she hummed before snuggling back in, burying her cheek against her father's chest and extending her arms to hug him.
With a lost night, Melody returned to her parents' arms to sleep comfortably and without fear. The night's rain didn't stop until dawn, when the raindrops were soft drizzles reflecting the faint rays of the sun.
William was the first to wake up, having slept the best, of course, finding himself face to face with his husband and that little intruder who, just as they had predicted, would return to them during the night. Apparently, Sherlock was the one who received her. With a heavy heart, he had to wake them to start the day.
"Good morning, both of you wake up now, it's getting late," he whispered close to Sherlock's face, stroking Melody's hair as she began to stir in her father's arms to wake up.
"Mmm, good morning~" the little girl whispered, her eyes still closed, stretching one arm to yawn.
William smiled sweetly at his daughter, pulling back the covers to let her stretch, while his hand moved to Sherlock's face, gently stroking it with the back of his fingers.
"Sherly, come on, get up," he insisted, eliciting a murmur that indicated he was half-awake.
"Good morning, Daddy~" Melody greeted him, now fully awake, her hair disheveled and her nightgown wrinkled.
Crawling over Sherlock on all fours, she reached for her other father's arms and hugged him tightly, making the blue-haired man groan and finally wake up.
"Hello, my little girl," the blond replied, picking her up to kiss her head and gently smooth her hair. "How did you end up here, huh?" —he asked in a mock accusatory tone.
Melody just pouted and hid her face in William's chest, rubbing her nose against his shirt.
"I don't want to sleep alone yet," she murmured, clinging to William.
"We said it would only be on stormy nights or when you have nightmares," Sherlock added hoarsely, rubbing his eyes before yawning.
"That's not true... you said I could sleep with you guys again," she lied, glancing sideways at Sherlock without letting go of William.
"You-liar girl," he grumbled, getting out of bed.
William just chuckled and shook his head before turning back to Melody.
"If it's on stormy nights or when you have nightmares, it's fine."
"Mmmh, okay," she replied defeatedly, finally letting go of him.
Getting out of bed, he held out his arms to pick her up. Melody, understanding the message, stood up on the mattress before going back to William to be carried.
"We'll go wash your face and change you. Albert said he'd come by today to take you to breakfast," he said, settling her in his arms before leaving the room.
"Yes! Breakfasts with Uncle Albert are fun!" she exclaimed excitedly, wrapping her arms around her father's neck.
Sherlock, alone in the room with a smile on his face, straightened the bedsheets and went to the wardrobe to find a change of clothes for himself and William, knowing that getting the little girl ready would probably take some time given how restless she was.
He was grateful that it wasn't his turn to do it that day, since usually neither of them finished getting ready on time.