The Light Is Dimming {Mairead and Thomas}
Thomas had woken with a start when the thunder first rumbled, too well conditioned to hear such things and think of tanks and shelling. His heart slowed - ebbing to a normal beat as he realised that they were - for now - safe, and he was laying back down to stare at the ceiling and count the thunder until it passed - when a noise from Mairead’s side of the room had him moving towards her silently. For a man who suffered from nightmares and strange - horrible - flashbacks, it wasn’t hard to see that she was terrified, startled out of sleep into something darker and more frightening.
He didn’t speak, just drew her against his chest and murmured softly to her - odd, strange things - things one might say in the careless time of darkness when no one was listening or looking, humming the words like a chant against the fears that waited in the dark. She was shivering a little, so he wrapped a blanket around them both and lowered his voice even softer, deeper.
“Nothing’s going to hurt you while I’m here,” he said, frankly. It was a promise he’d made a while back, a promise he’d never exactly voiced out loud.