Wisps of thin dark hair, soft skin, gentle, comfortable breaths. Louis examined his son sleeping in his arms, wrapped up tightly in a light green blanket. He was incomprehensibly small and Louis marvelled at the hold his son had over him after only a few hours. He couldn't ever say no to Lyla or August, and he suspected it would be no different for little Ben.

Louis hummed softly to his son, sitting forward on the chair and swaying gently while Lyla slept. The curtains were drawn against the light in the quiet room, creating a soft glow perfect for reflection and rest. He wondered what August had looked like as a baby. Would this child grow to look like his brother, but with Louis' dark hair instead of Lyla's brown? They didn't have much information on August as an infant. They knew where he went and where he lived, but they didn't know for certain if he was treated well or if he was loved or if he was neglected and scorned. He was a quiet kid who seemed to let things remain unspoken and hide how he was truly feeling. As he had become more comfortable with his parents, he had begun protesting to certain things – things that all kids protest to: homework, bed, chores – but ended up accepting his parents' requests in the end as if afraid to say the wrong thing. Did August fear making his parents upset? Louis felt a hole open up inside, suddenly uneasy and worried about how his first son was coping – had Louis been spending enough time with him? Was he hurting without notice? At thirteen, hormones would definitely be running rampant. Had Louis ignored signs of struggle? His heart was beating fast as he reached into his pocket for his phone while baby Ben squirmed uneasily in his arms, seeming to sense the shift in mood.

"Are you on your way?" he texted Marshall, now eager to see August and ensure that he was okay.

"Just off the train," Marshall responded a few minutes later.

Louis stood and hushed his son before laying him in his bed. He walked to Lyla, curled up on her side in a deep sleep, and tenderly touched her arm while leaning over to kiss her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open immediately, "is everything okay?" she asked, sitting up and scanning the room before resting her eyes on her sleeping son.

Louis smiled and nodded, "August'll be here right away."

"Oh, okay," she said and began to get out of bed.

"Where are you going?"

"Bathroom. Open the curtains?"

Louis did as he was told as Lyla grabbed her bag and slipped into the bathroom. He could hear the water running along with the unmistakable sound of teeth being brushed. She emerged a few minutes later to a lighter room and a knock at the door. Lyla returned to her bed while Louis opened the door, revealing August and Marshall with evidence of a very recent shopping trip for flowers and a soft plush dog.

Louis pulled August into a hug before leading him to his brother.

Marshall nodded at Lyla, "it go alright?"

Lyla nodded. "It was quick." She walked over to Ben and picked up the baby. "But not painless," she joked. "Do you want to hold him?" she asked August who nodded eagerly.

"Yes." He sat on the chair Louis had been in and leaned back with a grin on his face as Lyla placed the baby in his arms. Once his brother was in his arms, he seemed intent on watching every little twitch and movement. "What's his name?" August asked after a moment.

"Benjamin Michael," Lyla said.

"Ben," added Louis.

"Hi Ben," August said softly.

They visited together until one of the nurses returned to run some tests and check on mother and child. Marshall took that as his queue to start returning to his own child. He said his goodbyes and left, but Louis followed after him.

"Marshall."

He stopped and turned to his brother, "yeah?"

"Thanks for your help with August and Lyla."

"Yeah," Marshall replied. "I'll see you later baby bro."

"Marshall."

"Yeah," he said again, clearly just wanting to get home.

"Do you reckon August is okay?" he asked in a low voice.

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean… he's a quiet kid and seems happy, but do you think he's okay? Actually happy? When you hang out with him, does he seem okay?"

"'Course he's okay. He's not that quiet either. Talks my ear off sometimes. You're his parents. He's happy."

"Okay," Louis said with a nod, not at all convinced.

"Hey," Marshall said, resting his hand on his brother's shoulder. "I don't know what's got into you, but your kid is fine. Your kids and your wife are all fine, yeah? Be happy, Louie, and stop worrying."

Louis nodded, still feeling indescribable anxiety about something he couldn't quite figure out. His brother left and he took a deep breath before going back into Lyla's room.

"Everything alright?" he asked mother and child.

"Perfect," Lyla said with a smile. "They said everything is okay and we can go whenever we like. I think sooner is better than later." She was not a fan of being in the hospital and simply wanted to be home.

The three of them checked out of the hospital as soon as they could and made their way back via cab to their apartment that would suddenly have four people living in it instead of three.

It seemed different as Louis and Lyla entered their home – like they had simultaneously been gone for months and stepped out to the corner store five minutes prior. But everything was the same except for the baby.

"You hungry?" Louis asked as Lyla made her way with the baby to their room.

"Yeah," she called back. "Can you warm up leftover stew?"

Louis went about doing as requested while August sat quietly at the kitchen table except for his tapping fingers. "August, d'you want to go out for lunch? Leave mam and Ben to rest for a bit?" If truth be told, Louis wanted nothing more than to catch up on the sleep he had missed, but the nagging in the pit of his stomach, which might have very well been due to sleep deprivation, kept him focused on August. He didn't want his eldest son to feel like he was being pushed aside.

August nodded, "yeah, okay."

Louis settled Lyla and notified her of his plan, to which she showed some relief mixed with apprehension at being left alone with her newborn, and they set out into the city, sun high in the sky.

"Any ideas where you want to go?" Louis asked as they exited their building.

August shrugged. "Anywhere's okay. Maybe somewhere I can get a burger," he suggested.

"Right." They started walking towards the park and Louis thought for a moment before coming to a decision: "I'm going to take you to this pub with some of the best burgers you'll ever have. Yeah?"

August nodded, "okay."

They entered the park and began following the path that would lead them to the other side.

"August," Louis said, taking in the sights and sounds of everything around them as the sun shone brightly over the greenery. "Sorry if your mam and me haven't been so good lately."

"I don't know what you mean," he replied after a moment.

"I mean, what's been going on with you? I don't think I've had a good, solid conversation with you in too long."

"I don't know," August said softly. "Everything's okay."

Louis wasn't convinced at all but didn't say anything as they continued to walk in silence.

"Have you and mom thought about me and Juilliard?" August asked after some time.

"About going full time?"

August nodded.

"We've talked about it, but we're not sure. What about English, Math, Science? Everything else? They're just as important as music."

"I can learn them on the weekends though," August replied, seeming to gain more confidence in his dialogue with his dad. "You could get me a tutor to homeschool me. Or maybe there's weekend school. Or even summer school! Then when it's time for me to take my exams, I'll still know everything I need to anyway."

Louis nodded, "you're right about that. We've… actually been looking into what kind of options you'd have. There are possibilities." He wondered if Lyla would be upset with him for discussing this with August before they had a chance to decide together.

"So then why not?"

Louis sighed, "well, people at Juilliard are a lot older than you, kid. You wouldn't have friends your own age to hang out or grow up with."

"There are some younger people. Mom and Auntie Lizzy started when they were sixteen and that's only a little older than me."

Louis nodded as they came to the edge of the park and turned left, "a lot happens between thirteen and sixteen though. We don't want you to feel alone as you grow up."

"I—" August started, paused, then continued. "I won't feel alone. I belong at Juilliard with people who love music like I do."

Louis shook his head as they crossed the street, "it's just up there." He pointed to an old building a little further down the road. "What about your friends? Tyler? Jordan?"

August shrugged, "I'll make new friends. Tyler and Jordan aren't my friends anymore anyways."

"What?" Louis asked, taken by surprise. "Since when?"

"I don't know. Since September, I guess."

Louis kicked himself for not knowing. "Is that why you didn't want a party for your birthday?"

August shrugged.

They reached the pub and Louis held the door open for his son. Inside, they ordered some soft drinks and food, and sat at a table that looked out onto the busy street outside.

"So, who have you been hanging out with at school then during lunch?"

"No one really," he started slowly. "I usually go to the music room. Mr. Rowland lets me use the piano when I'm done with my lunch."

Louis shook his head. A thought occurred to him. "Hang on. Where were you going so often after school then? You said it was to Tyler's." Two to three times a week, August would go to Tyler's house – or he said that's where he was going – and wouldn't be home until six or seven. How had he not known his only son at the time was lying to him? Hadn't he lied to his mam when he was young, getting caught out each and every time? Why hadn't Louis noticed?

August remained silent, evidently not wanting to say where he had been.

"We dropped you off at sleepovers a couple of times since September too." Louis felt angered from worry and disappointment in himself but tried his best to hide it. "Where were you going?"

"Those were friends from Juilliard," he replied quietly.

"And the other times?"

August simply looked into his glass of cola and played with the straw before taking a sip, all without meeting his father's eye.

Louis sighed, "look, man—" He was interrupted by the arrival of their food and his stomach growled greedily. He took a moment to shake salt onto his fries and eat a couple while August did the same. They were very alike in a lot of ways, he thought, and not just in how they liked their food. "August," he said after a moment, "I'm not angry with you. If I'm angry with anyone, it's me. I should know these things, especially if you're feeling the way you are. I'm just worried about you. We haven't known each other that long. I think you don't make a fuss or say things that're on your mind because you don't want me or your mam to be mad at you. But we love you, yeah? There's nothing you could do that would make us stop. Just talk to me like you'd talk to Uncle Marshall."

August continued eating his fries and burger in silence. Louis sighed and did the same, occasionally humming to the music that was playing.

"This is a good one," Louis said as a rock classic began to play. "Just listen to that guitar."

August did and began to feel a bit lighter. "Do you think I could play with your band again sometime? Like I did when Matty was born?" The silence and tension between the two dissipated instantly.

"Yeah, of course man. Didn't know you'd want to."

August nodded. "At lunch time on Saturdays, there's a group of us that play covers of different songs or songs that someone wrote. It's fun. I like doing that."

"Lots of people do that?"

"There's maybe five of us. Sometimes others join though."

"That's great, man. Are you on guitar? Do you change it up?"

"Usually guitar, but I'll sometimes try other things. Right now, I'm trying drums." He took a sip from his cola and then said, "Washington Square."

"Yeah?"

"When I said I was going to Tyler's, I was going to Washington Square to meet Arthur where we'd play music together. Uncle Marshall caught me one time in winter and yelled at me because it was dark out and I had lied about where I was."

"Uncle Marshall knows?" Louis repeated, a little bubble of something like jealousy brewing inside him.

"He said that he wouldn't tell you if I promised to let him know whenever I was going so that he could make sure I was safe."

"And did you?"

"Most of the time," August murmured.

Louis rubbed his hands over his face. "Isn't Arthur the one who goes round with that man who tried to kidnap you?"

"He didn't try to kidnap—"

"He tried to keep you from leaving though," Louis interjected, feeling the unbeknownst fear of losing his son building uncontrollably. "What if he got the better of you?" He could feel his voice raising and shaking, so stopped to compose himself.

"I'm careful," August assured him. "And Uncle Marshall is there if anything happens."

"That's not the point, August. If Marshall didn't run into you, you'd still be sneaking off. And if something—if something happened t' you, then we wouldn't know. Your mother an' me'd be heartbroken, d'you know that?" Louis shook his head. "You have to promise me that you're not going to sneak around anymore. Your mam and me will seriously consider Juilliard full time for the Autumn, but don't put yourself in harm's way anymore. If you want to see Arthur and play, fine, but keep it during the day where there's lots of people. And get me to come along. Or your mam."

August nodded, sniffling back tears that had formed as a result of witnessing the worry plain on his father's face. He'd never seen him so scared or up-in-arms about anything before. His dad was quieter, like him, so rarely showed how he was feeling in such an emotional way.

Louis reached over and ruffled August's hair. "Right, how 'bout dessert?"

The duo walked around Central Park, getting ice cream from a cart. They stopped by some musicians on their walk and talked a bit more until Louis felt a sudden wave of fatigue and expressed his desire to go home.

Lyla was up with Ben who was strapped to his mother with a sling while Chopin played lightly in the background. She was humming along and flipping through a book while the baby slept soundly, nuzzled up to his mother.

She smiled as Louis and August entered. "How was lunch?"

Louis patted August's shoulder, "yeah, it was good. But I think I need a nap. Are you okay?"

Lyla nodded as August walked over, "get some sleep."

Louis didn't bother to undress or close the curtains. He flopped into bed and drew the blanket over his face to block out the light. He felt like he had just fallen asleep when he was being woken up. "Louis," Lyla said. "Wake up, love."

Louis groaned, "is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. But you have to work tomorrow. If you sleep any longer, you won't be able to sleep tonight."

Louis nodded but could feel himself falling back asleep.

Lyla kissed him gently before taking hold of his arms and pulling him up. "Come on. I have food ready."

He followed her out of bed, his feet barely leaving the ground as he shuffled forward. In the living room, August was sitting on the sofa with his brother in his arms, talking about anything he could think of while Beethoven floated in the air. On the kitchen table, two bowls of mushroom soup and two plates of grilled cheese sandwiches waited for Louis and Lyla to consume them.

"How are you feeling?" he asked Lyla as she sat next to him.

"Unexpectedly good," she replied. "It doesn't feel like I pushed a human out of me just twelve hours ago. It's bizarre. I don't even really remember the pain anymore."

"I do," Louis smirked, flexing his hand.

Lyla laughed and kissed his hand, "thank you."

Louis tore apart pieces of his sandwich and dipped it in the soup, slowly savouring each bite while Lyla had cut her sandwich in two and dipped a bit of one half in the soup before taking a bite and repeating. After Louis felt sufficiently awake, he leaned in to Lyla and said, "I was talking to August about this Juilliard thing. I think we should let him go full time and hire a tutor for everything else."

Lyla considered for a moment. "He's so young though and the others are so much older. He won't fit in."

"I don't think he fits in at school as it is. Did you know he doesn't talk to Tyler or Jordan anymore?"

"What? Since when?" Lyla asked, shocked just at Louis was.

"Since September apparently." He could see the same emotions that he felt running through Lyla. "We had a lot going on."

"But we should know these things. But then—"

"He's been going to Washington Square with Marshall," he interrupted, not entirely lying, "when we thought he was going round his friend's place after school."

"Marshall."

"I'm going to have a word with him about it. But August says he spends his lunchtimes in the music room alone. But at Juilliard, he spends his lunchtimes with the people there, still playing music, but now with others. If there's a place for him full time at Juilliard, I think he'd be so much happier."

Lyla nodded, taking all of the information in as quickly as she could, trying to keep herself from running over to her son and suffocating him with her hugs. Her heart raced at the prospect and she sighed before agreeing. "Okay."

"August," Louis called after he finished the last of his soup and sandwich. "C'mere a minute."

August hesitated in slight bewilderment, never having walked and carried an infant at the same time. Louis laughed and walked to him instead with Lyla following. "Sorry man." He took little Ben from August and held him in his own arms before sitting on the sofa between August and Lyla. "I was just talking with your mam," he said, "and we've decided that we'll try to get you into Juilliard full time for September."

August's face lit up, "really?"

"Yes, really," Lyla said, smiling at her son's excitement. "I'm going to see about homeschool options with other students though because you still need to be around people your own age."

August nodded, "I'm okay with that! Thank you!" He hugged his dad and then his mom before wrapping his index finger and thumb around Ben's hand and bobbing it gently up and down.

"You're welcome. Now why don't you go get ready for bed?"

August sighed but did as he was told.