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"Josh?!" I stood up, still holding Julia in my arms.
My son was lying on the floor next to the swings, blood coming out of his nose and with his eyes closed.
I handed Julia over to Sophia as fast as I could and ran towards Josh. Jamie and Mike were standing next to him looking guilty.
"What happened?" I asked as I knelt next to Josh.
"Michael hit him." said Jamie.
"I did not!"
"You did, too!"
"I didn't, it wasn't on purpose." Mike started crying. "Is he dead?"
I took Joshua's pulse.
"He's fine." I said, with a sigh of relief.
Josh opened his eyes.
"Sorry, dad, I just got distracted, watching you and the baby and stopped pushing Mike, then he bumped into me." he explained. He sat up, and I let him- it didn't look like he'd broken anything. He ran his hand under his nose and took a look at the red fluid in his hand.
He gasped. "I'm bleeding."
I took a handkerchief from my pocket and handed it to him. "Here, Josh. I think it would be best if we have a doctor take a look at you." I said.
"No, dad, not again!" Josh groaned. "I just got out of the hospital, there's no way I'm going back in so soon. I bet the nosebleed has nothing to do with the leukemia, anyway. Look, it's almost gone." He looked at me hopefully, with an angelical smile.
He held out the handkerchief and, true to his word, it seemed to be stopping. It was stopping as fast as it had started.
Josh rubbed the side of his head, where a large bruise was already starting to appear.
"You've got to be more careful, okay? All of you." I scolded. "And Josh, for now I'm not taking you to the doctor, so I trust that you're telling me the truth when you say that you're fine and it's not necessary. And at any hint of you feeling bad, I'm taking you to the hospital, okay?"
Josh nodded.
"It's about time we head back home, anyway." I said, grabbing the two littlest ones' hands and pointing out a nearby fountain to Josh, who was staring at his blood-stained hands, looking confused and disgusted.
"Sorry, Sophia." I called out. "See you soon."
"See you soon. Hope he's okay."
"Sure, he's fine. Bye!" I shouted.
Sophia waved and I waved back, then we headed back home.

* * *

Back home, everything was under control. Ryan was still alive and the house seemed intact- or, to be more accurate, in the same messy state as before: no less, no more. The only thing that seemed different was Ryan. He greeted us with a smile and asked if we'd had a nice time.
Yes, he had got into a good mood. But why? What had made him change so dramatically in just about forty-five minutes?
If leaving for a while provoked such nice changes in sixteen year olds, I was going to have to leave more often. That way I could make sure he stayed in a sociable, agreeable mood.
AND it turned out he'd cooked supper. Talk about being nice!