(Note literally everything you will read here is unedited and just copy/pasted from wherever it was before. take it as you will idk if you want to make use of these or not as im not writing for this fandom anymore yah yeet)
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Luke froze in place, a child balanced on each hip. That was definitely a scream he just heard. That's not a good sign at all, and it's a wonder that neither Bryce nor Brock woke up from that. He looks around nervously. It's literally a minute walk from the parking lot to the street, and then another minute to get to Jonathan's apartment.
How does one run into trouble on such a small trip? Damn Jonathan for living in such a freaky neighborhood.
Then again, his boys are probably weighing him down. He pauses his walking to readjust his two kids on either side of him, silently thanking genetics for keeping them both relatively small compared to him. He's not sure how he would've managed otherwise.
A second noise is heard. Luke does not dare ask questions. All he does is walk faster, coming up to the door of the expensive looking apartment building. He huffs bitterly as he realizes it's, of all things, a fucking pull door.
That's not so bad. He's carried them like this before and still gotten inside. Though... That's usually because Jonathan is already down here waiting for his kids. Right.
He looks through the big glass doors. Nobody's there. That's not good.
Luke takes a moment to think this through. He could always wake one kid up and ask them to open the door. Or could call Jon... wait, that requires free hands. Shit.
"You, uh, need a hand there?" A warm, smooth voice calls to Luke from behind. Luke can easily hear the smugness in his voice.
He turns around and nearly drops his kids. The guy behind him is wearing a mask on his face, a bloody mask, mind you, and has big, wet red splotches all over his clothing. Not to mention, you know, a knife sticking out of his pocket.
Luke narrows his eyes, feeling his Paternal Instinct™ kick in almost instantaneously. "Excuse you?"
"I asked if you need a hand," the stranger explains with a grin. He gestures to Brock and Bryce, both fast asleep and completely oblivious to the situation at hand. "I don't think you'll be getting that door open anytime soon. Just figured I'd be a gentleman and open the door, you know? Especially for such a handsome man."
He rolls his eyes. "I doubt I'm the one who needs help. You look like you need a goddamn bandage or two."
"It's not mine," he says, as if it's a good thing. "Don't worry, I wouldn't hurt such a cute little thing. Wouldn't hurt the kids, either."
The stranger opens the door for him. Luke eyes him cautiously, using the same look he gives the boys when they're in trouble. That classic Disappointed Dad Look, the one that he's nearly perfected over the past few years.
He shakes his head. "I doubt the bloody knife in your pocket is yours either, huh?" His voice comes out much more rude than intended, and it startles him slightly.
Bryce shifts on his side, face burrowing further into Luke's shoulder. Luke takes this as a sign that he needs to hurry up, and walks inside. He turns to the guy, and is met with a guilty look.
Why he looks guilty is beyond Luke, but it makes him feel a bit bad regardless. He hadn't meant to sound so rude, it's just that he's tired and his arms are hurting and-
“Luke! Oh my god, I'm so dam- so sorry!” Jonathan comes running out into the tiny lobby, quickly scooping up one of the boys. Jon's brother, Tyler, is behind him, and looks only mildly surprised when Jon sets Bryce into his arms. He then takes Brock and smiles nervously. "I fell asleep, I'm so sorry I didn't come down to open the-"
