Chapter Text
Spot heaved the overstuffed red backpack onto his shoulders as the car crunched up the driveway. "Morning, Spot." His newest social worker, a lady with bright blue hair and an overfriendly smile, called out. "Fuck you" He returned, shoving the backpack in the boot before hauling himself into the passenger seat and buckling up. He thought about adding a middle finger for good measure. No, he didn't hate her that much. Yet. "Language, Spot." She chided, but it was half hearted. "I was thinking stop in the middle for a burger, since it's going to be dark by the time we get there."
"How fucking far away are these people?"
"Franklin County. About six hours' drive." He could cope with six hours, probably. If Jennifer shut up about the family he was going to this time. Not that she would. "...Bryan fosters two other boys, and he's keen on birds."
"So he's boring then." Spot pretended not to hear her reprimand, tucking his sweater between his cheek and the window. He didn't mean to fall asleep, but with the gentle patter of the rain and the warmth from the heater, he didn't stay awake very long. It was better than talking to her, anyway. "Spot, wake up. We're here."
"How 'bout no?" He muttered, pins and needles coursing through his legs as he slowly stood up. He didn't say the first thought in his head which was "'posh pricks" (the house was set apart from the others on the street, and it had a fountain in the driveway. A fountain.) "Hi, I'm Bryan. Jack's probably still at Medda's painting, and Charlie will be back from track meet soon." Oh great, so there was an artist and an athlete. Sounded like the start of one of those romcom books his Mom had liked to read until...no he wasn't going to think about that. He looked up to find Bryan's expectant face. "I said, have you got any hobbies, Spot?"
"No." He muttered curtly.
"I'm sure we can find something you'll enjoy. Your room's upstairs, if you want to unpack. Second door on the left." Bryan said as they headed inside. Spot climbed the staircase, letting the adults do the boring paperwork side of things. He pushed open the wooden door, revealing a modest room with a double bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. The bed was simply decorated with navy sheets, and a basket of snacks sat on the desk. Spot flicked through the basket, finding that Bryan had a taste for beige: crackers, individual portions of longlife hummus, granola bars, popcorn, and some bottled waters. God, he better not be the type of person who thinks mayonnaise is spicy. Bryan knocked on the open door. "The snacks are all for you. The boys are downstairs if you want to meet them." Spot took that as an order, since he hadn't got the measure of Bryan yet, and didn't fancy a second car trip tomorrow. The leather sofa squeaked as the shorter of the pair waved. "Hiya! I'm Crutchie, and the paint covered idiot there is my brother Jack. How was the drive?" Crutchie actually sounded like he wanted to hear the answer. Spot mumbled something about sleeping for most of it. Bryan sighed, knowing that meant Spot's sleep schedule was probably somehow worse than Jack's.