Thunder crashed loudly and the streaks of bright white lightning were the only illumination to brighten up the bedroom. Two teenage boys sat on their brother's bed next to the window watching the lightning dance across the night sky. Another crash of thunder rattled the window pane, but the two boys had been expecting it. The thunderstorm had begun half an hour ago and the two boys had been watching the storm in fascination since then. They had been counting the seconds between each thunder crash. Their count, however, was interrupted by the sound of a child crying. The eldest boy narrowed his eyes in annoyance at the closed door.

"I wish he'd stop crying," he muttered. "If Grandma walks passed our room again she's going to catch us out of bed."

His blonde-haired brother sighed and shook his head. "It's Alan's first thunderstorm, Scott," he responded, in a quiet voice. "Of course he's going to be frightened."

"He's not frightened," protested Scott. "He's attention seeking. He's clicked on that if he makes enough racket, Grandma or Father will go running to him."

John grinned at his older brother's scowl before carefully getting off the bed and standing up. The occupant of the bed still slept on his side with his back to the wall and window, oblivious to the storm and his two brothers practically kneeling on him to look outside.

"I'll go and get him so that he won't wake up anyone else," offered John, before leaving the room.

John padded quietly down the hallway and entered his younger brother's bedroom. He squinted in the soft glow of the nightlight on the bedside table. Approaching the cot, he looked down at the red-faced eighteen-month-old baby who was screaming his little lungs out. John winced at the sound before reaching into the cot and picking his brother up.

"Hey, hey, shush," murmured John, rocking Alan in his arms. "You want Scott to come in here and gaffa tape your mouth shut?"

Alan's crying quickly toned down to muffled sobs.

John grinned in surprise. "Didn't think so."

He turned to leave and almost dropped his baby brother in shock. Two saucer-shaped eyes were watching him from a huddled heap of covers on Gordon's bed. A flash of lightning caused the two eyes to jump in fright and John heard the blankets whimper.

"Hey, kid," greeted John, gently. "You okay in there?"

A mop of ginger hair nodded hesitantly before quickly shaking from side to side. John shifted Alan into a more comfortable position in his arms. He reached a hand out to Gordon.

"Want to come and sit with me and Scott for awhile?" he asked him. "Wait out the storm?"

Gordon nodded and practically flew out of his bed to hold John's hand. John stifled a chuckle. Grabbing Alan's blanket and bottle, John and his two little brothers left the room and went back to his own room.

Scott looked around as John returned, closing the door behind him. He smiled at the sight of his two younger bothers; both their eyes wide with fright.

"Okay, Gordon," Scott smiled at the toddler. "You can sleep in here tonight. Whose bed do you want?"

Gordon's eyes lit up in excitement and relief. He pulled out of John's grip and ran to Virgil's bedside. "I wanna stay with Virgil."

"Like I couldn't guess," responded Scott, rolling his eyes. From a very early age, Gordon had come to the conclusion that if Virgil could sleep through anything, then nothing bad could scare Gordon. Scary monsters under the bed, bad nightmares and thunderstorms never bothered Virgil, so young Gordon decided that it wouldn't bother him either. But that theory only worked when Gordon was allowed to stay with Virgil. "Well, I'm sure Sleeping Beauty won't mind. Up you get."

Scott helped Gordon onto the bed. There was plenty of space as Virgil had not moved from his original sleeping position. John settled down on the end of the bed, careful not to sit on Virgil's feet. He sat with his back to the window and cradled Alan in his arms. Alan's crying had now subsided and he was now contented to play with the collar of John's pajama top.

"Come on, Gordon, look outside," Scott suggested, supporting his younger brother so that they could both look out of the window. "See? You're safe in here with us."

Gordon reluctantly stared outside as another dancing lightning bolt streaked across the sky. Though he flinched at the sound of thunder, Gordon seemed mesmerized by the display of white light.

"Not so scary now, huh?" asked John, watching his younger brother's reaction.

Gordon shook his head distractedly, before he yawned loudly. Scott and Gordon continued to watch the storm until Scott became aware that Gordon was having problems keeping his eyes open.

"C'mon, kid, time for bed," Scott murmured, guiding his brother away from the window.

For once, Gordon didn't resist. He immediately lay down on the bed, moving close to Virgil so that he could share his pillow. Both Scott and John smiled in amusement as Virgil shifted to make room for Gordon but never once wake up.

"Cute," commented John, who was struggling to free his fingers from being eaten by Alan. "Pity we can't take a photo."

Scott laughed in amusement before settling down next to his brothers to watch the storm die down.

The storm had died down when Mrs. Tracy got up early in the morning to start her chores. As she walked passed her youngest grandson's bedroom she noticed the bedroom door was wide open and the room empty. Frowning in concern, she moved further down the hallway towards her other grandchildren's bedroom. Pushing the door silently open, she smiled at the sight in front of her.

The curtains were wide open allowing enough morning light in to show her five grandsons soundly asleep on Virgil's bed; a blanket haphazardly attempting to cover them all. Virgil was crushed against the wall and at some time during the night, his pillow had been stolen by his ginger-haired brother who lay sprawled under one of Virgil's arms. Scott slept on the other side of Gordon, though his Grandma was amazed that he hadn't already fallen off the bed with the precarious small sleeping place he had. John had fallen to sleep in an awkward sitting position at the foot of the bed with Alan still held securely in his arms. Mrs. Tracy had never known her youngest grandson to stay quiet for such a length of time.

Tiptoeing silently out of the room, she decided to leave her grandsons to sleep on. 'Besides,' she thought, as she made her way to the kitchen. 'It's rare for it to be this peaceful.'

She'd no sooner finished her thought when she heard a crash as Scott fell off the bed and was followed by a loud, "Gordon!"

'Maybe not so peaceful,' she thought, calmly, with a smile of amusement.

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