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It was midnight and Harry Styles awoke to the sound of thunder booming, lightning flashing through his window.. and.. wait a minute – was that someone crying? Oh no! Marcel!
Marcel Styles was Harry's brother. Really, Marcel was a year older than Harry; but Marcel sometimes regressed, preferring to be a little child, and Harry had to look after him. Like right now, actually.
Harry sighed. “Marcie, wait there sweetheart.”
“Harry!” Marcel howled from the darkness of his bedroom. He sounded grown up for now.. “Harry get me!” The boy was sobbing, tears trickling, snot dribbling down his nose. “P- pwease, Harry! T- the monstewrs awe hewe!” He sobbed, slipping back into his baby headspace. He wanted Harry! Why wasn't Harry coming to save him?!
The little Styles sibling sniffled, squirming in his bed. His bed was drenched; his nappy saturated with a big night-time wee, so wet that it had come apart at the seams and was falling off of the poor little boy.
“Harry!” Marcel screamed again, until his voice was raw and his throat was aching and the little boy broke out into wet, pitiful coughs. “H- hewlp!” He stuttered. More thunder flashed and he broke out into fresh sobs, hiding under his duvet.
“Marcie, babe I'm here..” Harry soothed, wincing at the way Marcel was screaming for him. “It's okay, it's all okay.” He entered the room. Marcel didn't move from beneath his soaked duvet, whimpering and trembling. “H- Hawwy save m- mwe fwom.. Monstews..” He murmured sadly.
“Yes, yes.. baby I will.” Harry promised. He sat on the bed and gently took the soaked duvet from his little brother's body.
Marcel felt his brother's strong hands lift him up and sighed, curling into Harry closely, his thumb slipping into his mouth. With every little flash of lightning, Marcel was whining and flinching in fright like a little terrified puppy.
“Hey, there there..” Harry soothed, placing his hand on Marcel's drenched back. “Now..” He whispered. “Let's get you into a nice fresh onesie and new nappy?” He said in a soothing voice. Marcel nodded, but at the mention of a new nappy; and the thought of weeing, he blushed and shyly fidgeted.
“That sound good?” Harry cooed. He saw Marcel fidgeting, doing a tell-tale 'I-gotta-wee' dance. “Do you need to make puddles, hmm?” The curly one giggled softly at the boy. Seeing that Marcel continued to fidget and squirm in Harry's arms, it was a yes. Harry held the fidgeting boy closely, even as he murmured a panicky, “Huwwy, Hazzy!”, and Harry plonked him down on the changing table. Wincing at the state of the old sodden nappy Harry slid a new one over Marcel's crotch, tabbing it up securely. Marcel tried to go – he really did - but soon whined, blinking up at Harry with his bright green eyes. “N- no..” He whimpered.
“No?” Harry asked. “Can't you go?”
Marcel shook his head and Harry sighed, falling into the rocking chair, clutching Marcel close and rubbing his swollen tummy gently. “Come on now babe. Make your puddles.” He whispered.
Marcel concentrated; comically, and a stream trickled from him, hissing softly into his fluffy nappy. Marcel positively purred at the warmth. “Pu- ddle!” He sighed cheerfully.
“Good, good boy.” Harry crooned, as Marcel sighed and gurgled in happy relief.
Marcel was comfortable and in Harry's arms, but getting him off to sleep was a little trickier than Harry had realized before. Cuddling Marcel close to him, so Marcel was able to be comforted by Harry's big-boy smell of toothpaste and tea - don't laugh! It was nice! - Harry rocked his brother closely.
But still, Marcel was scared of the thunderstorm. With every crack of lightning and low rumble of thunder, he was convinced the monsters were back to get him! Harry just rocked Marcel close as Marcel felt tears spurting down his cheeks, his breath deepening, a frightened scream bubbling up in his throat. “Hawwy!” He bawled, clinging on tight to the 19 year old's nightshirt. “Scawed!”
“Scared?” Marcel heard Harry whispering over the loud scary thunder. “Oh, silly little boy..” He cooed. “..scared of the thunder, now that is silly.” Harry said, cooing and chuckling fondly.
“Hm?” Marcel snivelled wetly.
“Don't you know,” Harry continued calmly, gently rubbing Marcel's back or sometimes tummy, “That there is an easy way to get rid of the thunder-storm monsters?”
“M-monstewrs!” Marcel whimpered in fright.
“We can get rid of them all, silly.” Harry said, in a sleepy but comforting voice. “Ready?” He leaned and planted a kiss on Marcel's forehead. “Rain, rain, go away.. come again some other day..” He whispered.
Marcel cooed sleepily, playing with Harry's hand. The sleepy little baby nuzzled into his brother as he sang, and somehow.. somehow all the rain went away! Marcel's eyelids slid shut; Harry's eyes slid shut, and they both fell asleep on the rocking chair, as the rain pitter-pattered; and the thunder-storm monsters stayed away.