//------------------------------// // Counterclaim // Story: Split Seed // by Estee //------------------------------// There were two geographically-divided branches of the Crusade, and the separation had created a number of differences. The version witnessed by the largest settled zone on the east coast had resulted in two manifests. The original edition, viewed in the most charitable way possible, had brought only knowledge. And on rare occasions, the information gained would even be beneficial -- under limited circumstances. Because lingering in the hallway outside Miranda's office had a way of impeding traffic, and the youngest Malus had instantly proposed the single most comfortable place to wait it all out. Knowledge which had been born from the heated forge of fur-singing embarrassment, along with rather too much direct experience. Apple Bloom doubted that Babs was intimately familiar with every last square hoofwidth of Manehattan's central police station. They hadn't been able to stay within the house: the central excuse provided was that the alarm spells needed to be reset, but the youngest Malus suspected that Chief Rights mostly wanted to get Scootaloo out of the area. It was also a factor which had prevented the questioning from taking place in the street. And... there had been ponies moving through the area, because it was the day after Homecoming. Some shoppers only attended the earliest sales, followed by bringing their purchases home. Those adults would have seen the gathering in the road, automatically slowed as they tried to figure out why the police were involved... guaranteeing privacy would have been difficult, and any gossip which was already on the gallop might have found an instant second wind. So it had all been moved to the precinct station. And they'd still passed more than a few residents as they'd moved through what were normally the least-used routes. Several had paused to look at the little procession, with the discolored Manehattan resident staying so close to her cousin. Most of those adults had been hauling small carts. Some were bringing future Hearth's Warming gifts home for their children. The waiting area was comfortable enough, even when decades of accumulated worry had pressed permanent grooves into the padded benches. But it felt a little cold. Apple Bloom no longer had a jacket, and... the police chief hadn't let her stay with Babs during the questioning. She'd been told that Babs had to be alone with the unicorn for a while, there had been a protest because she'd promised, and... when you were a kid, protests were something which adults mostly ignored. Mostly. Miranda, speaking much more softly than usual, had... apologized. But there was a procedure, and it had to be legally followed. The adolescent was in the waiting area with her big sister and friend: the former was next to her on the largest bench, while the latter was examining the Wanted posters on the far wall. They'd all been in the station often enough to have the worst of the lot memorized, but there was always a chance to get a new one and when it came to the older offenders, there was also the theoretical chance to find an updated printing. But it was just something she was doing to pass the time. All three were actually engaged in the same activity. "Still doesn't have their real names," Scootaloo announced. "Pity," Applejack sighed. "Ah'd like a few fresh curses t' use on 'em. All the ones which work with 'Flim an' Flam Fields' are gettin' kinda stale." "You could still work on something," the pegasus reported. "There's six new aliases." Curiously, "Each or between 'em?" -- hoofsteps were moving down the hall. All talk stopped. The trio focused on that approach, and then they got to listen as it moved past their door. They were talking. But not about the true subject, because they all needed a little more information before picking that up again. There was one true activity in that room, and every pony within was an equal participant. They were waiting. There was a clock on the wall. The audible ticking struck Apple Bloom as being somewhat sadistic. More hoofsteps outside. Approaching, going away. Then a third set: one where the precise sounds produced had been memorized long ago, and a group of rather specialized fur strands began to stand up along the nape of Apple Bloom's neck. It was a rather special sort of knock, when it came from an officer. Polite enough on the surface, but with a distinct undertone of I Have To Come In Anyway. "We're ready, Miranda," Applejack softly called out. The door opened, and the dark unicorn stepped inside. Weary grey-green eyes briefly regarded the two adolescents. "I can talk to you," the adult told Applejack. "As a relative. It's up to you as to how much you tell Scootaloo. But it's probably best if Apple Bloom goes into the hall with her for a few --" The pegasus started to protest. Apple Bloom found her legs spontaneously straightening, pushing her upright because standing on a bench was going to do a lot to take away Miranda's height advantage -- and it was also going to put her on a concerning angle for the horn. The police chief's horn was noticeably longer and thicker than that of the average unicorn: nowhere near the size which would have made it into a perpetual hazard -- but more than enough to serve as a constant reminder that the mare came with a permanent weapons attachment. "-- no," Applejack quietly stated. "Ah understand that part of the law, Miranda, far as it goes. Kinda like the medical stuff, right? Easier t' give out information t' blood or --" there was the briefest of pauses "-- unions. So legally, Scootaloo's probably gotta step outside for a while. But Apple Bloom stays." The unicorn's head briefly dipped. "Understood," the mare said. "Scootaloo, just go in the hall." "But --" the pegasus automatically began. "-- Ah'll give you whatever Ah can," Applejack promised. "Step out, Scootaloo. ...please." Wings partially unfolded. Curled back in. "On the way back to the Acres," Scootaloo said. Applejack nodded, and the smaller adolescent trotted for the exit. Miranda waited until the sweep of purple tail was fully clear, then nudged the door closed with her left hind hoof. The unicorn took a slow breath: one which seemed to make each rib shift in turn. The shadow-fur was oddly out of grain. Apple Bloom wondered just how much sleep the police chief had managed to find. "Babs is in the shower," the mare told them. As thoughts went, Tyin' up the bathroom seemed to be beyond Apple Bloom's direct control. "You've been in there a few times," Miranda continued, adding a small nod towards Apple Bloom. Yeah. The precinct had a rather comprehensive restroom available for the staff -- and the occasional detainee. If policing and Crusading had anything in common, it was in being dirty work. The adolescent wondered if the adults had finally brought in a soap which could help with tree sap... "Gettin' the dye off, Ah'm guessin'," Applejack decided. The unicorn nodded again. Took another breath. "I dispatched somepony to the train station. They're bringing Mac in. And just to get this out of the way: there won't be any charges for breaking into the house." Just a little wryly, "As the resident of record, Scootaloo might have a few protests there. And... it's not something which should be done. Period." "Thank y'kindly," emerged from the older sister as a long exhale. "An' -- the rest of it?" Miranda hesitated. Glanced at Apple Bloom again -- "-- she stays," Applejack stated. "Let's hear it." Ah don't want -- Ah've gotta. That's what growin' up is. Bein' there for the hard stuff. "She says there's been no physical abuse," Miranda began. "I don't feel that she's lying there." Another pause. "And I still brought in a doctor. There were no visible injuries, or signs that something had healed." Both sisters managed a nod. "From what was said, any neglect has been emotional," the unicorn added. "But that's her description, and it doesn't produce evidence I can look for. She just says they fight all the time when they're together, and -- she knows that custody is part of what they're fighting about. A battle over who she'll live with, and they don't realize that it's all loud enough to reach the filly down the hall. Who just curls up with her cat and waits for it to be over." The dark head dipped again. "Except that it doesn't end. The father apparently storms out for a while, and a few days later..." Mah head shouldn't be this heavy. This hard t' move. "So she was removing herself from the equation," Miranda told them. "She started planning this as soon as they told her that she was going to Ponyville for the holiday. There's money in her saddlebags, more clothing than she needed for the trip... the basics." "Why not stay with her sister?" Applejack softly asked. The unicorn didn't sigh or rather, the sound didn't emerge from her mouth. Every other part of her body seemed to sag in a way which indicated the sigh had been relocated. But the voice was steady. "Microapartment," Miranda told them. "It's a Manehattan problem. The rents are high, and Sunflower is just barely earning enough money to get enough space for one mare. Babs loves her sister, but she doesn't want to stay with her. It's not just lacking room: Sunflower can't afford her. She doesn't want to be a burden." Applejack nodded. And then the solid form shivered, every muscle vibrating as mane and tail fought to slip out of the rope loops. "Ah can't," the older sister half-whispered as green eyes squeezed shut from the pressure of pain. "Not like this. Ah can't --" She's hurtin'. Why is she -- "Applejack?" the younger sibling quickly asked. "What's wrong? Y'can't what?" "Ah can't take in another one." Just barely audible, words emerging as suggested patterns overlaid onto wafts of breath. "It ain't jus' tryin' t' pay for all of it. Ah managed t' shift the budget enough for Scootaloo. But Babs's parents are expectin' her back. They're both alive, they're both there. Even with the divorce, whoever leaves her place is gonna be around. Ah can't jus' have her stay at the Acres, when they know she should be goin' east. Not like this..." The unicorn took a small step forward. "There shouldn't be any money problems with Scootaloo," Miranda declared. "Those vouchers are still coming in. The majority has to go towards the house payments, but the rest was always intended for everything Scootaloo needed to survive. Food, clothing, a gift budget for birthdays and holidays --" Applejack's eyes shot open, and the angry glare nearly transfixed the other mare. "That's her money!" the older Malus fiercely declared. "Hers, an' Ah ain't bitin' it. She's gonna wind up needin' it sometime. An' she's gotten nothin' from them but money for years. At least let her have that!" The confined echoes of the last word faded, and silence filled the room. Drowned out the clock. Finally, Miranda took another step forward. "Right now," she quietly offered, "I couldn't let you keep her at the Acres. Scootaloo's situation was different. Her parents had been gone for more than enough time to allow me some discretion in relocating her. But as you said... Babs's parents are still there. If she stayed here, when they're expecting her to return, and it's because you decided to keep her... foalnapping charges aren't something you want to deal with, Applejack." The hat-shifting nod came across as an angry one. "And it's more than that," the unicorn carefully added. "All I have is what Babs told me. And with no evidence of physical abuse, no chance to speak with her parents, and their end being multiple gallops away from my jurisdiction -- there's very little I can do." Apple Bloom found herself breathing. There was probably something productive which could be done with the air. "So what can y'do?" the youngest Malus asked. "Put one of my officers on the train with Babs," Miranda told her. "The timing isn't good, not after Homecoming, but... I can find somepony. Whoever gets picked is going to be gone for at least a week, but they'll make sure she gets home." "And they won't let me leave town by myself. There's gonna be somepony along for the ride. All of it." She knew it. Tried t' get away, an' now they'll make sure she goes back. "And they'll carry a copy of my notes," the unicorn added. "That'll go to their police. Eventually, Foal Protective Services. They'll look into things on their end. But... that's all I can do. Manehattan takes over from there. I can ask them to keep me updated, but... that takes time, Apple Bloom. And all I really have is what Babs told me, added to what Applejack provided from the letter. There may be more to the situation, and --" The left forehoof came up, started to come back down at speed -- and then froze for an instant before slowly lowering to the floor. "-- I don't know the full truth of it. I may never know. I can try to make sure somepony looks into her situation. And that's it." Honesty's the worst Element. Ah don't think Babs lied t' me. But all Ah've got is the truth as it is now. Ah don't know how it's gonna work out. Ah might never know. An' once she leaves... Only way Ah'm gonna know is if somepony tells me. An' adults usually don't say much of anythin'. Nothing' real. She was shivering. She was cold. It was natural to shiver when you were cold. "I can release her to your custody," the weary mare told them. "But you have to give me a timetable. The exact hour when she's leaving. Today. And then we'll put her on the train." There was only a little time left, and Apple Bloom could hear the clock ticking. It tried to embed its sounds within her ears, making itself into the only thing she could hear at all. And she was trying to fight past it, catch and memorize every word because she didn't know how many more of them there were going to be, but it just kept counting down. Slicing away at the fractions which remained. Mac arrived, joined them in the waiting area. A little after that, Miranda brought in Babs. The group was sent back out into the world, and... they couldn't go back to the Acres. There was no reason to head for home, not with the length of the journey and the train station exerting a sadistic magnetism on the other end. Every one of Babs's too-many travel items was with her. All they had was Ponyville, and it wasn't enough. There was no time to go home. No chance to make a proper meal. (The leftovers, which had been temporarily abandoned at Scootaloo's old house, didn't feel remotely proper.) But Applejack wanted Babs to have something which wasn't train food, so... they found a restaurant. Apple Bloom didn't have much of an appetite. The majority of the food seemed to lack flavor, and everything which reached her stomach had very little interest in staying. There wasn't much conversation. They tried, but the Cornucopia Effect didn't work on words. Topics died on the vine. They took Babs around Ponyville. Showed her a few of the stores, but -- the funeral procession never quite managed to reach the Boutique, or the tree, or the bakery. Apple Bloom understood after a while. Applejack didn't want to seek out friends just now. The other Bearers might start to feel like reinforcements and with enough backing, the older sister might consider changing her mind. Still... Babs was mostly back to her natural colors. But there were a few lingering spots of blue near the roots of her mane, and the youngest Malus briefly wondered what Miss Rarity would have thought about that. The designer had missed out on amaranth and gamboge again. They took Babs around Ponyville. But there was only a little time left. And then there was none. The group was on the eastbound side of the train station, and they had plenty of company. There were a lot of visitors heading back after the holiday. They had come to their truest home, and... now there was another one calling for their attention. Or maybe their real home was at the other end of the ride... At least they know where it is. That they've got one. The platform was crowded with ponies on the day after what had never really been a holiday. It also hosted a unicorn-shaped three-dimensional shadow against the part of the wall which was closest to their group, along with a rather confused-looking mare whose off-balance overloaded saddlebags suggested she'd packed in something of a hurry. That adult almost blended into the crowd, but -- being a Crusader meant knowing every last member of Ponyville's police force. By their full names. They waited. You almost always had to wait. There was a whistle, somewhere off to the west. Distant white puffs of steam began to rise into the sky. Scootaloo tried to say goodbye to Babs, awkwardly wishing her luck. Mac made his own attempt. Neither found much in the way of words, and the Manehattanite mostly listened in near-silence. Applejack looked around. Took visible and exacting notice of just where that shadow was, and then raised her voice. "If it gets too bad," she fiercely told Babs, "if y'can't stand bein' in that apartment no more, there's nowhere t' go an' you ain't got no other choice -- you tell them where you're goin'. Them an' the authorities on your end. Maybe find somepony who can help y'say it, 'cause there's always lawyers: assigned by the service ponies, or hired by you, t' give the words more weight. Don't worry t' much on the cost. An' after that's done -- then you come t' me. Y'hear me, Babs? Straight t' the Acres. But only if they all know you're comin'. An' we'll work it out from there." Her cousin nodded, just once. The shadow pretended not to be paying attention. And then the rest of the group withdrew a little. Pulled back just enough to offer the illusion of privacy. Enough that it could have been just Apple Bloom and Babs facing each other on the platform, even with all the adults milling around. It effectively was privacy. Adults seldom noticed the important things. The youngest Malus looked into her cousin's eyes. A color so much like that of her older sister. Another sign of family. "We'll talk," Apple Bloom said. "Soon." A little too dryly, "I'm gonna be in Manehattan. Ya can't yell that loud." "Obvs," the adolescent agreed. "But Ah'm gonna write t' you. Once a week, maybe more often if y'tell me things are gettin' bad." "I'm..." The heavyset filly swallowed. "...I'm not good at the whole writing thing --" "But you can read. An' jus' sendin' a little is enough," Apple Bloom promised. "Enough t' tell me how y'are. Please? An' -- y'heard what Applejack said, Babs. If it gets that bad, don't run away. Run to." Babs hesitated -- "-- please --" "-- fine. Since you're worried." A puff of air was blown through the mane, and was nearly lost in the gust which was being displaced by the incoming train. "And maybe the next time we see each other, we'll both have our marks, right? Because you've got the workshop, and that's the right place to be. And me -- maybe when the divorce wraps up, and the dobbins ain't so much of a distraction -- that's when I can get my mark settled. It'll be my turn eventually, right? Just gotta wait for it." Apple Bloom managed a smile. Moved forward just a little, saw her cousin matching the shift from the other side... The goodbye nuzzle had some extra force behind it, but... that was just Babs. It also put the adolescent's snout into her cousin's fur. Close enough to scent the fear. They push each other. If they push her away... Run to, Babs. Please. Air rushed through their fur. The train was pulling into the station. They had less than a minute... Less a minute. It was nowhere near enough time for Apple Bloom to work out why her own next words emerged. "Write to Diamond." The near-instant "...what?" set up an instant echo in the adolescent's own brain. But the words had felt... "Write to her," Apple Bloom semi-repeated. "You've gotta. After what happened --" A solid forehoof slammed into the platform. "-- she deserved --" "-- no. It was 'bout her mom, Babs. Nopony deserves that. Not when their mom is gone." The green eyes briefly closed. "I can't. I can't write --" "Two words," Apple Bloom told her. "Start with two words. Okay? An' see if she writes back." Slowly, oh so slowly, Babs nodded. The train doors opened. Ponies got off. Ponies began to get on. "Love you," her cousin quietly said. "Love you," Apple Bloom told her. The heavyset filly turned. Got on the train, as her designated company followed. After a few seconds, a portion of amaranth mane showed up near a window. The doors closed, and the train began to move. There was no point to chasing it, for pounding hooves would never be able to drive forth so much as an extra second from the clock. Instead, Apple Bloom simply watched as everything moved away, heading off into the distance and the unknown. For as long as she could, until the steamstacks vented and her fur went damp again. And when the fog cleared, Babs was gone.