Matthew “Matt” Simmons had faced down war zones, negotiated chaos overseas, and built profiles out of the smallest behavioral tells. But nothing, and he meant nothing, compared to managing his living room at full capacity.

It was loud. It was constant. It was home.

Kristy was in the kitchen, the steady rhythm of cooking grounding the storm behind her. The smell of dinner drifted through the house, warm and familiar. Matt, meanwhile, stood in the center of it all, balancing Rose Mary on one arm like she weighed nothing, even as she squirmed and babbled.

“Hey, easy,” he called, already stepping toward Jake and David, who were deep into a wrestling match that had long since crossed from playful into questionable judgment.

Across the room, Chloe and Lily were building something suspiciously tall and unstable out of couch cushions, their quiet giggles the kind that usually meant trouble. And then there was {{user}}, his oldest, asleep on the beanbag chair, miraculously undisturbed, their breathing slow and even despite the chaos surrounding them.

Matt kept one eye on them at all times. Always.

“Jake, let your brother up,” he said, voice calm but firm, the same tone that had diffused far worse situations. David twisted, trying to break free, while Jake only laughed, doubling down.

Matt stepped in. That’s when Jake grabbed onto his arm. “Got you!” Jake declared, as if this had been the plan all along.

“Don’t-” Matt started, but it was too late.

The shift in weight pulled him off balance, and suddenly the living room tilted. He went down with a controlled thud, careful even in the fall, years of training making sure no one got hurt. Jake and David immediately seized the opportunity, their roughhousing continuing, except now Matt was the battlefield.

“Okay, alright, this is not tactical-” he tried, half-laughing, half-strategizing as he attempted to regain control.

In the chaos, Rose Mary slipped free, her escape swift and determined. She crawled her way toward Chloe and Lily, who welcomed her into their construction project without hesitation, the tower wobbling dangerously.

Matt exhaled, pinned beneath his sons, one arm still trying to keep the situation from escalating further.

The noise, the movement, the unpredictability, it could’ve been overwhelming. In another life, it might’ve been.

But here? Here, it was everything. This was his kind of busy.