With Open Arms

An Emergency Placement

Louis doesn't think of it as being busy anymore. It's just everyday life for him at this point; a routine of sorts.

It's a Wednesday evening. The end of the summer holidays so the boys are free to do as they please in their eyes without the restraints of homework.

And of course, the thing that they choose to do is argue. He's an amazing parent with an even more amazing talent of putting in imaginary earphones and blocking out the bickering in the living room and turning his focus to setting the dinner table instead.

Until there comes the inevitable smash as something ('please don't be anything expensive') gets broken.

"It wasn't me!" Liam yells out in a way that only tells the man that yes, it was in fact the ten year old.

He sighs, switching off the oven and wiping his hands on the bottom of his shirt as he enters the living room. The vase that usually decorates the mantle piece is on the floor instead, smashed into a million little shards.

Liam is standing next to it with a football tucked underneath one arm in an entirely non-suspicious way, eyes wide and lips pressed together as he looks up at the man. "I didn't do anything," he says quickly. Then he points to the golden Labrador curled up on the couch. "Tucker did it!"

Louis just raises an eyebrow, huffing out a breath as he turns his attention to Harry. The other kid is sitting in the couch with his phone in his hands and one earphone in.

"He kicked the ball right at it, Dad," he rattles, and Liam glares at his older brother. "He was definitely aiming for it."

"Hey! I was aiming for your fat head actually!" He yells back.

Louis just pinches the bridge of his nose for a few moments. "Have kids, they said..." he mumbles, before he looks back to the kids. "Haz, get the dustpan and brush and clear this up."

Harry looks exasperated at that. Anyone would think he'd just told the kid to donate a kidney. "What!? Dad, that's so unfair. He's the idiot who did it!" He yells, dodging out of the way when the football comes flying at his head again.

"Liam! Have you learned nothing?" Louis says, gesturing to the smashed vase on the floor before turning to his oldest. "Harry, you're fifteen. I trust you to tidy up sharp things more than I trust your ten year old brother."

"He's not my brother, he's more like a pet. An ugly little stray dog. Can't we just take him to the shelter or something?" He says, and Liam pouts, actually looking hurt.

"Da-ad," he whines, stamping a bare foot dangerously close to the smashed glass. "Tell him to stop being so mean to me!"

"Oh for crying out loud," he breathes, stepping forwards to take the kid by the shoulders and lead him away from the mess. "Haz, clean this up and try not to lose any fingers. Li, into the kitchen. You can set the table for me."

Harry grumbles something about child labour before doing as he's told, whilst Liam quite happily skips into the kitchen ahead of him. He turns to the dog who lets out a small bark when he pets his head.

"You're officially my favourite, Tuck," he comments before retreating to the kitchen with the dog hot on his heels.

"When's the new kid comin'? Do you know if it's a boy or a girl? 'Cause I didn't like the last girl. She kept stealing my toys," he rambles, grabbing a handful of cutlery and setting them down in front of each seat at the table.

Louis huffs our a laugh, ruffling the kids hair as he takes dinner out of the oven and starts dishing it out on four plates.

"The last girl was three, Liam. She didn't know about sharing yet," he says. "And we don't know much. The social worker only called this morning, just said that there's a boy who needs an emergency placement. She'll explain more when they get here."