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Josua can feel the cold settle under his skin. Claws wrapping around his small, frail frame as he tosses and turns in his bed, cover bundled and tangled. Stuffed moose falling to the floor with a padded thud.
The ghostly touch of his dad lingers, the strong arms wrapped around him, a reminder of safety, fades away. Leaving Josua trapped in the dark void. In the distance, his father's figure appears for a moment, a cheery bright smile that Josua sprints for, running as fast as he can, cold wind rushing in his face. As soon as he crashes into his father, he disappears, a large hand scoops Josua up.
His vision fades to black.
Josua launches himself into an upright position, sweating, panting, eyes darting around his dark room. He's alive. But it's so cold. Inside his chest, he can feel his heart beating rapidly with fear, fingers shaking when he holds them to his chest.
The house is silent, apart from the sound of blood rushing in the young boy's ears, heart pounding like he is still stuck in that haunting nightmare.
Without a second thought he steps out of his bed. If his dad is awake, he won't be happy. But he can be brave.
He can't be brave. The floorboard of his bedroom creaks eerily under his bare feet, cold seeping in.
Josua's tiny hand hovers over his door handle, freezing metal biting into his palm when he pushes down, the door opening with a groan that echoes throughout the house.
As quietly as possible, he tiptoes to his dad's room, the creak of the old wooden floorboards following him with every step he takes, haunting him. Like a presence unable to leave him alone.
When he reaches his dad's room, he pulls the heavy door handle down as slowly as his shaking fingers allow him to.
Inside, it's warmer, his dad's bed in the centre of the room is bigger than his little bed, so he knows there's space for him to cuddle up in. Laid in the covers, is his dad, fast asleep.
"Dad.." Josua whispers quietly from the doorway. The breeze sweeps across his back, sending a shiver down his spine. It's following him. Whatever it is.
"Dad.." He tries a little louder. Nothing. Please wake up.
"Dad, pleasee.." He sniffles.
Kurt's head lifts from the pillows, groaning at the loss of comfort of sleep. His hair is a mess, stuck up in different directions, like branches of a tree reaching out. Kurt digs his knuckles into his eye and then looks at Josua, standing in the doorway.
"Josua? What are you doing awake it's..." He twists his head to look at the clock on his bedside table. "Three in the morning. What's up?"
Josua doesn't reply, the words stuck in his throat. He looks down and fiddles with his thumbs, before glancing up to Dad with a pout.
"Oh, baby, c'mere." Kurt opens his arms and Josua climbs onto the bed, before being wrapped in his arms. Josua buries his face in Dad's chest, little palms grasping his collarbones, as if this version would so easily slip away.
"You're okay. It's just a nightmare, not real. You're safe with Dad, okay?" Kurt strokes his back with a warm palm, kissing the top of Josua's head softly.
Immediately after being enveloped into his dad's arms, Josua begins to feel a lot better, the warmth overcomes the cold.
" 'M cold.." He mumbles.
"I know, Josua, you're so cold. Dad will warm you up, my boy." Kurt whispers back, pulling the cover over the both of them, before holding Josua closer to his chest, warming him up that way by sharing heat. It reminds Kurt of holding his baby boy for the first time, skin to skin, almost four years ago now. Josua's head rests near Kurt's, beating slower than his heart did earlier in a state of panic.
"Better?"
"Mhm.."
"Night Josua, I love you."
"Love you, Dad." Josua mumbles into Kurt's sleep warm skin, already half asleep after climbing into his dad's bed.
Josua wakes up first, with no memory of the previous night until he recognizes his surroundings. He is curled into his dad's side, who is sleeping soundly, with an arm wrapped around Josua. Safe. Warm.
The next thing he realises is he is hungry.
So he sits up, shaking his father's arm off of him easily and pokes at the man's cheek. No response, so he giggles and tries again, patting his forehead this time. With no luck.
"Dadddd.. 'M hungry.." He whines.
Kurt hums with his eyes closed, the arm previously wrapped around Josua strokes his back.
"We can make pancakes?" Kurt offers, cracking open an eye to see how Josua's face lights up in excitement. The little boy nods frantically.
Kurt hauls himself out of bed, with exaggerated groans that never fail to make Josua laugh. He seems in a better mood than he was when he stumbled into his room in the early hours of the morning.
Kurt scoops Josua into his arms and carries him into the kitchen, depositing the young boy on the counter top.
Kurt cooks the pancakes, flicking flour onto his son's nose, who swipes a handful down the side of his face, landing in clouds on his shoulders down to his chest.
Josua eats half of the berries intended to be eaten alongside the pancakes, but Kurt doesn't mind that he won't have any fruit to go with his breakfast, he can get more later, as long as Josua has an abundance of what he wants.
In the end, Josua sits at the table, a plate of pancakes sat in front of him, raspberries ordered in a wonky heart in the fluffy centre of his pancakes.
Kurt leans against the counter, mug of steaming coffee in hand wondering why he is so lucky to have Josua as his son.