Chapter Text
Alan Becker.
That is the name of the man they are going to live with for the foreseeable future. They don't know much about him; just that he's "the father of one well-adjusted boy their age", and that Alan is a "very nice guy". Blake didn't let himself believe it. He's heard horror stories of the type of people who are allowed to foster, and of the things jealous children do to foster kids.
Alan lives out of the way. Next town over, in fact. Blake and his siblings have been shoved into a small car an hour or so ago---Blake in front, the other three squashed in the back. The atmosphere is tensely quiet, save for the crackling music on the radio. Even Rehina shuts up during these drives. The very idea of not knowing who they'd be living with from now on weighs on their shoulders as though they were Atlas holding the world. No matter what, Blake thinks to himself for the fifth time since getting the news, no matter what this Alan guy is like, I will protect my brothers.
They turn left and drive steadily down a suburb road with identical buildings and trees, before turning again, into a driveway. The car comes to a spluttering stop, and with practised swiftness, Blake and his siblings follow their social worker out of the car.
He looks up. Its a nice house. All the houses on the street were nice. Nice neighbourhoods often have nice houses. Blake bites his lip, trying to bury the tentative hope swelling in his chest. They haven't even been in the system long, and yet Blake is scared. How did the other kids do it?
"Have you all got everything?" The lady asks. A round of quiet affirmatives followed, and she gave a satisfied nod. Not like they could really lose anything they owned, most of their stuff burned in the fire and none of them have had enough time to buy much else. "Good."
She confidently walks up to the door and rings the doorbell, a placid smile on her face. For a second, no one else moves, until Blake steels himself and follows her up to the door. He hears the soft crunch of gravel and knows his brothers have followed him up the path. After a moment, the door opens to reveal a slouching someone, who Blake guesses to be around their age. The son, presumably. From under ginger hair, the son's eyes rove over the group, then locks back onto the social worker.
"Hello," she says, "we're here to see Alan Becker?
"Yeah, he said you'd be around. You're all welcome to come into the living room while I fetch him." After a second, the son adds on, "he's working."
"Thank you very much. Come on boys."
The first thing Blake notices about the house is that there are no pictures. That in itself isn't entirely weird---after all, online is such convienent space to hold photos, Blake doubts that everyone would go through the trouble of printing the photos and buying frames for them. But even then, there are no posters, nor paintings, nor scuff-marks either. The walls are a barren cream white, the floors neutral brown wood, the ceiling some ugly inbetween. Even the sofa that the son directs them too feels empty and unused. It reminds him strongly of a newly bought house. He can probably catch a taste of the paint if he focuses.
"Isn't this place a bit creepy?" Hisses Gabriel. If even he's noticing it then yeah, it probably is creepy. Blake isn't able to say that though, because the social worker gives them an odd look from across the room that tells them they have been heard. Instead Blake focuses on the muffled chatter upstairs which sounds like a full on back-and-forth, before two footsteps thuds down the stairs.
The son reappears and, with him, comes Alan Becker, who looks nothing like his son. It's almost astonishing how different they are. Where the son has wavy orange hair that falls in thick oil darkened strips, Alan is a neatly combed and cut short brunet. The son is freckled and hunched over, with green eyes dimmed by dark circles; Alan is tanned and stiffly straight, wearing glasses with edges sharp enough to cut. Even their bodies are fairly different, in the sense that Alan is slim but incredibly muscled, and the son is skinny and lanky with an awkward disposition. Though, Blake could reason that that was due to a difference in hobbies.
If the social worker took note of this, she doesn't show it. She instead stands up and shakes Alan's hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Mr Becker."
Alan nods, his smile thin but warm. She releases his hand and gestures to the four of them, swiftly introducing Blake and his siblings to the two Beckers.
"--And that young man at the end is Yuri."
"It's a pleasure to meet you four," Alan says, turning his smile to them. It's a nice smile, Blake finds. One that leaves you feeling quite important. Blake certainly felt important. Behind Alan the younger Becker nods, agreeing without speaking. He seems stuck in the clouds, movements floaty and sluggish.
"My name is Alan Becker, but you all can call me Alan," he continues, "I hope the time you four get to spend with me is as calm as I'm hoping it will be."
And suddenly, with just few words and the minute sharpening of the smile, Blake tenses, feeling as though he has just been warned. Alan quickly moves the conversation back to between him and the worker. The whiplash makes his head spin. Blake turns to his brothers, but finds them equally confused and offput. Yuri shrugs and Rehina glances down at his feet. Gabriel takes Blake's hand and squeezes it once.
When Blake looks away, he almost startles to see the younger Becker staring straight at him, eyes wide.
"---I'll be back to check up on everything in a week."
"Thank you so much, let me show you to the door." Just before the two adults leave the room, Alan tells his son to show the four of them around. His son mutters something in agreement.
Gabriel stands up first, walking toward the son and outstretching his hand. Gabriel is the nicest of them, and since this whole situation began, he's been given the job of starting the friendship process. He's good at befriending people too, so it's no suprise when he's the one to get the first smile from the younger Becker.
"It's lovely to meet you! What's your name?"
"Se-Scott!" He replies, almost as brightly. "It's lovely to meet you guys too! I know all of this is an... adjustment, but I promise you'll love it here."
"This is a nice house," comments Yuri. Rehina and Blake back her up with agreeing hums.
"I know right?" Scott laughs. "Come on, I'l show you upstairs!"
Upstairs is just as cold and empty as downstairs, but it has the added flair of the room signs. There are four bedrooms. Two of which are labelled with Alan and Scott's name, a message about needing a knock underneath both. The other two rooms Scott reveals to be theirs. There are two bunk beds in each, and he tells them that they are more than welcome to pick who they want to share a room with. Rehina is quick to decide on sharing with Blake, leaving Yuri and Gabriel together. Scott then points out the last room upstairs as Alan's study.
"Usually he has to leave the house, but he does his job in there sometimes," Scott tells them, "in emergencies you can go into his room to get his help, but if he isn't there, and is actually in the study, then you have to come get me instead. It's like, a total out-of-bounds."
"... What if the house is... burning or something?" Rehina asks, sending a wave of shivers through her brothers. Scott purses his lips and raises his eyes to the ceiling, thinking. Then he gives them a casual shrug and continues the tour.