User blog:SodaCat/Last Straw

this is short, doesn't really talk about any canon characters. tbh this is just the reason why tripp and gage were put in bullworth (yay they werent split!) instead of being put in another foster home.

quick char guide:

David & Samantha Miller - The boys' last foster parents. They have no biological children, and are both in their early thirties. Typical suburban family, they believe in family camping trips, family game nights, and greeting new neighbors into the neighborhood. And driving sedans. And vans.

Peter Dawson - Social worker in charge of Tripp & Gage. He's around 27 years old, pretty much the youngest social worker at the agency, and assigned the boys kinda to "prove himself". Passed college with soaring colors, top of his class, etc. Pretty whole-hearted guy. Cares about the boys, but he can't take them in b/c of his economic standing.

"That's it, we're done, we don't want these brats any more."

Tripp and Gage's eyesights flicked boredly onto the face of David, the man they'd only just gotten to know as their foster dad four months ago, who was holding his shaking wife Samantha in his arms. They looked at each other, communicating silently, both agreeing that David was being an ass and Samantha was being a wuss.

"Now, Mr. Miller, surely we can come to some sort of agreement about what happened..." Peter, the social worker who was in charge of Tripp and Gage mumbled quietly.

"An agreement?!" David screamed out, startling his wife, "You want us to come to an agreement?! They nearly blew up the goddamn car trying to set it on fire!"

"We just wanted to see if it'd work," Tripp groaned, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Who the fuck even cares? It's a fucking Emperor. You'd have better luck riding a goddamn scooter." Gage added.

David smacked his hands down on said Emperor beside him in the driveway, the metal long since cooled since the firefighters put it out almost three hours ago. "You see?! This is the kind of thing I mean! They have no consideration for property, let alone the goddamn law, and they don't even care! These two don't belong in foster care--they belong in prison!"

"We came pretty damn close to prison living in this shithole..." Tripp muttered under his breath, earning a sharp elbow to the shoulder from Peter. Gage immediately turned to glare at Peter for daring to hurt his brother, but the social worker paid no mind.

"The agency will fully reimburse you for the damage inflicted to your car, Mr. Miller, just as it has for the basement, the laundry room, and the backyard gazebo..."

"You're damn right it will!" David exclaimed, and to the twins it seemed as if he were verging on hysterics. "This is the last straw, Mr. Dawson. I thought we could round these boys up after those other incidents, Samantha thought they needed love and care, but we both agree there's no fixing these brats. The only reason I'm not pressing charges is because I already feel bad enough that you're in charge of these monsters. So just take them with you, and mail us the paperwork."

With that, the Millers turned and entered their bright suburban home, slamming the door shut behind them.

Tripp and Gage shoved their hands into the pockets of their respective jeans, secretly eager to be out of the Miller's clutches. They were pretty well off, financially, but David and Samantha insisted on doing stuff like sitting down all together to eat dinner, maintaining a curfew for the boys, and keeping in touch with the boys' school to moderate their grades.

"Well, guess it's time for another family, huh, Peter?" Tripp anounced lightly, sneaking a quick grin to his twin.

"Maybe you should find one that actually gives a fuck about hockey," Gage suggested, yawning.

Peter eyed the boys, their faces stained with ashes, the hair on their heads ruffled and messed up. "No. It's not time for another family. You two knew what was coming if you messed this one up."

The boys were silent for a moment, instead looking at each other, trying to find words.

"You were serious about that?" Tripp croaked out.

Peter sighed, turning and starting to lead the boys into his company-loaned Bullet. "Yes, I was serious, guys. No more fun and games. The agency already made the decision, there's no more foster families that'll take you. You guys are going to private school, and I can't guarantee you won't get split up. With your history, it's unlikely any school will want both of you at the same time."

"What if no school wants either of us?" Gage whispered, unconsciously seizing his twin's wrist as they climbed into the back seat of Peter's car and shut the door behind them.

Slipping the key into the ignition, Peter looked at the boys' worried faces through the rearview mirror, and for a moment wished that he himself were able to house the boys. "Then it's a group home, guys. And I can guarantee you'll be split then. So you're gonna have to try really hard to stay out of trouble."

Nodding, the boys looked out through the window beside Tripp, giving one final look to the Miller's lame suburban house.