Dirty all over, James hopped over to the bed and climbed in, probably staining the sheets with his dirty feet. "I like uncle Anthony. Ye could be my uncle."

"I could," Anthony said, hoping that he's doing a good job of pretending that he's calm, because in reality he is very very very close to breaking down.

...

"Well, goodnight then, James."

James sat up in bed and looked at Anthony confused. "Aren't you comin' to bed? At home we all sleep in t' bed so we keep each other warm." His mouth was slightly open as he realized what he had just said. Then he pulled the saddest face he was able to pull on command. "At least we used to, before they all tragically perished," he added in a grave voice.

Anthony had been panicking so much that he tired himself out and no longer had the energy to panic about what James just said. "Well," he sighed. "I wasn't exactly planning on it, but if you want me to—then, sure, I guess." He sat down on the bed, looking anywhere but at the kid.

James smiled and lay down. And with the tiredness of a child, he instantly fell asleep, a smile on his face as his last waking thought was on how wonderful his new life as the adopted child of this friendly Anthony was going to be.

Despite his worries and panic, Anthony smiled as he looked at the kid, wishing him a gentle 'goodnight'. And then he turned away, staring off into the distance with a sigh. The idea of being stuck with this kid was admittedly frightening, but it was a bit too late to turn back now, was it not? He was going to give this 'parenting' thing a shot, whether he liked it or not.