When facing the things we turn away from[DISCONTUNUED]

3

"Zayn we have a problem"

A half an hour later and here they still were, at the restaurant with Louis still unconscious on the floor.

"What did you guys do this time? Am I going to have to stitch Harry's head again?" Zayn spoke into the phone. He was a doctor and one of the triplets best mates so they always called him for help.

"Um... no. This situation is a bit different"

"Well God, spit it out. I don't have all day"

"Our omega waiter at the restaurant tripped and now he's passed out on the floor and everybody is glaring at us and the manager I think is now walking towards us and I'm too young and pretty to die" Edward rushed into the phone, body standing rigid as the pudgy, greasy manger stomped over to them.

"Tomlinson get off the floor" he grumbled, kicking his foot lightly to the omegas side.

Like a flash of lightening, Marcel was at the mans side, holding the managers arms tightly behind his back as he whispered, "touch him again you greasy pile of shit and I'll chop your limbs off one by one"

"Marcel..." Harry whispered, surprised by his brothers outburst. Marcel was never one for confrontation, always opting to hide his non hide-able alpha body behind his brothers.

A surprised face overtook Macels features as even he was surprised with him own actions.

"You can have him" the man grumbled. "He's used anyways, the only thing he has coming his way is his fat ass"

This time is wasn't Marcel that struck, but Harry, who swung his arm out, punching the greasy bag of shit right in the nose, probably breaking it.

"Get out of my restaurant!" he yowled, holding his bloody nose.

"We're taking him with us then" Edward said, not even thinking as he scooped the omega up in his arms, the hospital and the small boys health the only things on his mind.

"If you're going to take him, take his two little brats with you. They take up space and cry over a simple touch" the fat beta scowled, blood steadily dripping down his face and onto his clothes and the floor.

"His... brats?" Marcel asked confusedly.

"His kids, the little shits are about as worthless as he is" and with that, the pudgy beta waddled away, a trail of blood behind him.

"His has kids?"

"Edward?"

—

"So what are your names?" Harry awkwardly asked the two little boys that were now in their car as they drove to the hospital.

The two boys just stared at him, mouths closed as their eyes pierced his soul.

"Okayyy" Harry dragged out, bringing his attention to the still unconscious omega draped across his brother lap.

"Well he doesn't have a mating mark" Edward said, his eyes trained on Louis' upper body, not daring to look down at an area that's not his.

"And, he does not look old enough to have-what are they? Six? Seven? Year old children" Harry said after a minutes of silence.

"You never know Harry. Some people age really well" Marcel said, looking at his brother in the rear view mirror.

They had a matte black Escalade with three rows of seats, Marcel driving with Harry in the second row with the children, and Edward in the third row with Louis.

"Not that well" Harry mumbled. (Not that well my åss. Louis is 28 and could pass as probably 20 again irl)

"Do you know how old your mummy is?" Harry asked, turning back to the boys who still had the same identical stare on him.