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He really should be asleep but the call for apple juice would not leave him be until he had a taste of the sugary goodness. He tiptoed past his parents room, dragging the soft blue blanket with green seahorses behind him. Papa would be upset if he found him sneaking around this late at night for juice.
He didn’t bother turning on the kitchen light and instead threaded his blanket through the handle of the fridge, pulling it open with practiced ease. As he reached for the container on the top shelf, tippy toes straining, he paused. The sound of foreign footsteps made him frown. Papa or Daddy didn’t sound like that. The sound stopped and he shrugged, going back for the prize.
The clack of a shoe hitting the kitchen floor made him turn around, blue eyes wide with curiosity. He squinted as a flashlight hit his face and he raised his blanket to cover up, peering at the bewildered looking figure in the kitchen doorway. The man was covered in complete black, except for his pasty face.
"Shit," The man cursed, flashlight still pinned on Armin. Armin politely shut the door, not wanting to let the cool air escape. Papa always got onto Daddy for leaving it open. "Shit shit shit," The man continued. Armin tilted his head.
"That’s not a nice word to say." Armin piped up, remembering his Daddy’s words from earlier.
"Shut your face brat." The man stalked closer, glaring from underneath his black hat. "Fucking kids, always ruining everything. At least this one is small enough. Should be quick and easy." Armin was about to ask if the man had a mental problem, considering he was talking out loud to himself. A blonde eyebrow quirked up when the man withdrew a blade, the silver glinting from the flashlight.
"Oh," Armin sighed, as if this entire thing was most inconvenient. And really, it was. All he wanted was his apple juice. "You shouldn’t play with sharp objects. It’s really dangerous." By now the burglar had come toe to toe with little Armin, who wearily pushed the fringe from his face.
"You better not make a sound or-"
"Or what?" The sudden the kitchen light flipped on. The burglar yelped, almost dropping his knife as he whipped around. In the doorway stood a rather large man, arms the size of his head crossed in front of an equally impressive chest. A harsh blue gaze pinned him to the spot. "Armin, what are you doing down here? It’s past your bedtime." The man chided gently, acting as if the man cloaked in black was simply another kitchen object. Armin let out a tiny yawn, rubbing his eyes.
"I was thirsty." He gave a pout. The burglar blinked, brain kicking back into gear. He grabbed Armin, holding him to his chest with the tip of the blade pointed towards his neck.
"Don’t move. Or else I’ll stab him." He threatened, sort of pissed when the blonde beast didn’t so much as bat an eyelash.
"Put my son down. Now. This is the only chance I’ll give you."
"You better back off! I’ll stab him!" The burglar made a move to step back towards the back kitchen door he had spotted earlier when scoping out the place. The feeling of cool unyielding metal against the back of his head stopped him in his place.
"I believe that was an order. Not an option." A soft voice purred behind him. The burglar slid his eyes to the side. What the fuck? He hadn’t even seen the shorter dark haired male enter. He held the muzzle of a pistol up, steady finger on the trigger. "Let my son go."
The man dropped the five year old without much ceremony and the boy landed with a small ‘oof’. “Armin, come here.” The blonde ordered softly. Armin stared at the burglar one last time before he scurried over to his father, climbing up his leg and into his arms with his blanket tucked securely to his chest. “Levi, why don’t you take care of our guest while I contact the authorities.”
The one named Levi smirked. “With pleasure.”
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In hindsight, the police would regard this as the strangest apprehensions they had ever come across. When they pulled up to the quiet house in the suburbs, lights streaming and sirens blaring, they expected a frightened family running out into the yard. Instead, when they busted through the already opened door, they were astounded to find a family of three sitting in the living room and a man in black strung up by his ankles hanging by the fireplace as it crackled happily. The man was bound and gagged, wiggling around frantically and looking almost /thankful/ that the police were there.
He sported a bloody nose and two black eyes and the police figured that the only reason there wasn’t more damage was because of the five year old sitting between two shirtless men, happily sipping on some apple juice watching Spongebob while the blonde father read the newspaper and the dark haired one enjoyed a cup of tea, mindlessly petting his son’s head. The dark haired one looked up, giving a glare. “About damn time. I was about ready just to toss this guy out on the side of the road for you to pick up.”
"Levi," The blonde murmured, not even looking up from his paper. "Not in front of Armin." The blonde finally put down his paper and stood up, smiling at the officers. "I believe this is what you came for officers." The man went over to the apprehended burglar and cut the rope, looking immensely satisfied when the man dropped with a slight crunch. "And for the record, he did attempt to murder my son. So I will be pressing charges for that as well." He put his hands on his hips as the officers pulled up the man and hauled him out.
The police were never called to the Smith household ever again.