The Street Fighter

Chapter 14

I woke up to a whimper. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed the noise came from Dylan.

Another whimper escaped before it turned into crying. I picked him up and his face instantly buried deep into my neck. His arms wrapped tightly around my neck.

Gently, I tried pulling his chin up to face me but instead he shook his head against my neck and his legs tightened their hold on my waist. I stood up, his tears wetting my bare shoulder. I tried to adjust his hold on me, thinking my now sticky, wet shoulder was uncomfortable for him but he didn't budge.

"Shhh, it's okay Dylan. I'm here now," I whispered soothingly whilst rubbing his back.

He let out another sob and it broke my heart to see him like this. And I felt hopeless. There's nothing worse than seeing someone in pain and not being able to do anything about it.

I rested my chin on his head still rubbing his back comfortingly. "Dylan, it will be okay. What's the matter?"

"I-I had a bad d-dream" -hiccup- "a-and there was D-daddy" -hiccup- "and," I stopped him before he could go on.

"Hey, look at me," I said. His big green eyes, which were welled up with tears, finally looked at me and I got a proper look at his face. Tear streaks stained his cheeks and still there were some rolling down all the way to his chin. "We don't have to talk about it."

He sniffled, rubbing his eyes tiredly before hiding in my neck again.

I walked to the kitchen and holding him with one arm, I got out some milk from the fridge. Grabbing a glass I poured it in then put it in the microwave.

Putting my hand back to support Dylan with two arms, I seated his bum on the counter, his body still clutching on to mine though.

The beeping of the microwave brought Dylan to look up at me. I wiped away his tears and got the milk out. Checking to make sure there was no skin on it and it wasn't too hot, I gave it too him. He was only hiccuping now.

He drank it slowly before handing me a half full glass of milk. I smiled slightly, even in his state he is still caring and thinks of others.

I took the cup from him and drank a bit before handing it back to him. He giggled slightly.

"What? Why are you laughing?" I asked innocently, knowing too well why he was laughing. It always worked when he woke up crying, even though that wasn't very often.

"Y-you've got a milkstache," he hiccuped. He finished off his milk leaving him with a milk moustache as well.

"And you've got a milkstache too," I pointed out. He giggled as I wiped his off then used the back of my hand to wipe mine off. I put the glass into the sink, Dylan still not letting me go.

"Come on, let's get back to bed." I encouraged him. He was going to be so tired in the morning.

He shook his head, "I can't, D-daddy-"

I smiled slightly at him. "Daddy loved you loads and he still does. He's just in a different place where he can watch us. Look, I'll show you."

I carried him to the sofa, finding the special box, unlocking it and placing it next to me. Dylan sat on my lap. Looking through the box, I found an envelope that was for Dylan.

I set Dylan down so that his head was on my lap and the rest of his body on the sofa before opening the letter. I read aloud whilst playing with Dylan's hair relaxedly.

"To my dearest baby boy,
Although I may never get the chance to meet you, I know that you will be the best son anyone could ever ask for. I know that you will be loved by everyone around you and I'm sure you'll be dazzling everyone with your smile.