Three Gems and a Scooter

by RaylanKrios


Saviors Complex

A complex wave of emotions coursed through Rarity.  Joy, fear, relief, anger, confusion, all were present in the swirling storm coalescing in her chest.

“Would you like to come in?” she stammered, hoping to buy herself some time before Autumn expected a coherent reaction. Rarity magically flipped the sign on her door to “closed” and Scootaloo’s social worker followed her wordlessly to the kitchen. Once there Rarity set about preparing some tea, thus continuing to avoid having to give a response.

 “I’m here to talk about how you want to handle the transition,” Autumn said carefully, sitting down at the table. “Treble and Lily would like to break the news, and we think it’d be good if Scootaloo was ready to move in sooner rather than later. These things can be difficult, especially for Scootaloo, and the quicker we can make the process happen the easier it will be for Scootaloo to get adjusted.”

Rarity balked, the two tea cups she was levitating from the cabinet faltering in midair. She thought about her initial impression of both Lily and Treble. They didn’t seem to be terrible ponies; if they had been a pair of alcoholic child abusers then Rarity would have no problem digging in her heels, and she’d be entirely justified in doing so. But they weren’t. By all outward appearances, they were a loving couple looking to add a child to their family. Who was she to deny them that? And why would she want to?

Because Scootaloo seems happy here, well happier anyway.  The idea that the Boutique might actually be the best place for the little orange pegasus began to take root.  No, it wasn’t Rainbow Dash’s house, but she had begun to develop her own bond with Scootaloo.  It was mostly poker based, but bedtime and dance lessons were part of it too.  And if Rarity was being totally honest with herself, she found herself enjoying the psuedo mother role she had fallen into more than she thought she would.  

Searching for a reason to preserve the status quo, she finally settled on one, while Autumn patiently drank his tea.

“Do you really think this is going to be any different than any of the other homes Scootaloo has moved into?”

Frustratingly Autumn didn’t answer the question. “It’s not my job to try and predict the future,” he said taking another sip of his tea. “They seem to be a kind, loving couple. I dug through their past with a fine toothed comb and found nothing that raised even the slightest red flag. If I thought they weren’t sincere about trying to be good parents I’d show them the door. But as far as I can tell, they are; that’s all I can ask for.”

“I’m sure you thought that about Scootaloo’s last foster parent, too,” Rarity replied, a little more snidely they she intended.

But Autumn ignored the dig and just nodded. “Maybe, but I don’t really have any other options.”

“What if you did?”

“Excuse me?” Autumn asked, putting down his cup of tea.

“What if there was another pony who wanted to adopt Scootaloo? What would happen?”

“That depends.” Autumn said carefully. He stopped himself before he went off on a tangent about the nuances of custody laws. “If there’s an honest dispute, two families that genuinely want what’s best for a child, the case is heard by an arbitrator. In this case I would make a recommendation as her case officer and Scootaloo would have to testify who she’d prefer to live with. Since my recommendation would be highly contingent on what she wanted, it’d basically be her choice.”

“I see.”

“Yes, but I don’t have two families vying to adopt her, I have one.”

Rarity found the words spilling out of her before she could even consider their full implication. “I’d like to adopt her.”

She wasn’t really expecting Autumn to gush with praise, Oh that’s wonderful. I know this is the best place for her, but she also wasn’t prepared for the reaction he did give. “No you don’t,” the stallion said fixing Rarity with a firm stare.

“I beg your pardon? Are you actually deigning to tell me what I do and do not want?” It was more a reaction to having her wishes challenged then honest anger, but Rarity still found herself grinding  her hooves into the ground beneath the table.

 If Autumn noticed the change in Rarity’s tone he didn’t say anything. “I’ve seen this before. A temporary foster parent grows a little bit attached, decides it’s up to them to save the child from some imagined horror, and volunteers to adopt even though they haven’t really considered what it’s going to mean. It’s called a savior complex, and it always ends with heartbreak. I will not put Scootaloo through that.”

This time Rarity was unable to conceal her anger. “I do not have a savior’s complex!” she shrieked, her nostrils flaring. “If I wanted to save something I’d go get myself involved in whatever imbroglio Twilight’s managed to get herself into. In fact, knowing Twilight I’ll probably be dragged into whatever is threatening Equestria this week, anyway!”

Being a social worker was not a job that came with a lot of “perks”.  The hours were long and the pay was miserly. You were perpetually overworked and the work you did manage to get done was unlikely to result in fame or adoration. On top of that, it was pretty much guaranteed that you would encounter some truly horrific situations that would shake anyone’s faith in equinity. One only chose social work as a career because every so often there was a scared, helpless child whom only you could help, and you got to actually tangibly help them.  Autumn’s first boss had taught him that the satisfaction of seeing a child grow up happy and healthy because of your actions had better be enough reward because it was likely to be the only one you got.

But there was one other thing Autumn enjoyed about his job, it gave him very thick skin.  There was no good way to remove a child from a toxic home. Bad parents, even terrible parents, still loved their kids, albeit in a very hard to understand way. And like any pony would, they treated an attempt to take thier kids away as a grievous insult. No matter how carefully the situation was handled it resulted in a pony screaming at him with levels of rage and hatred that he was sure he would never be able to match about anything. And the child was often angry and scared to boot because he or she was being taken out of the only home they knew.

But when the knowledge that a pony would literally kill you if there was a weapons within forelegs reach hung in the air, and you had to compartmentalize that fact and respond calmly because responding with righteous anger would only bring more emotion and volatility to a situation that had too much of both; well once you did that a few times, someone being mildly perturbed at your word choice wasn’t a big deal.

Rarity just sat there, glaring daggers at him, waiting for him to respond.

He sighed; Rarity did have a point despite her emotional reaction. A temporary foster parent removing the temporary from their title wasn’t unheard of, and either way Rarity was a citizen asking to get the long process of adopting an eligible filly started. It was his job to do the due diligence, but he still needed to be sure that this was something Rarity really wanted, and right now it didn’t seem like she even knew that herself.

 “I will consider your application, provided you take this week to really think about if this is what you want.  You do that, come visit me next Monday and if you still want to adopt, we can talk about how to proceed.”

“Fine,” Rarity said using the same clipped manner she reserved for unruly stallions at after parties. “I trust that until we do meet you will delay whatever transition you have planned.”

“I will.”

“Well then, if there is nothing else…” Rarity said glancing toward the door.

Autumn nodded, again if he wasn’t used to ponies saying significantly worse things to him he would have been offended. “I’ll show myself out.”

Her boutique once again empty, Rarity sat in her parlor room, opting to keep the sign flipped to closed.  She scooped Opal up in her hooves and carried her over to the couch, absentmindedly stroking her cat’s fur.

As much as she was loathe to admit it, she had uttered the words I’d like to adopt without really considering what that would mean. Rainbow’s objections, of all ponies, echoed in her head as she thought about her own reservations. I have plans, and none of them involve dragging a kid around with me.

Rarity didn’t have plans in the same way Rainbow did; in many ways she was already living her dream. She was the proprietor of her very own specialty dress boutique; ponies came from all over to order dresses designed and sewn by her. Canterlot was only a quick train ride away, and even going to Manehattan wasn’t particularly onerous journey. The reason she didn’t move to one of the bigger cities and open her shop in an area that was more accessible to her rich clientele was because she didn’t have to. She liked Ponyville, her family and friends lived there and her clients were perfectly happy to come to her for a fitting session. She had no doubt that if she moved to Manehattan tomorrow to open up a shop it would be a success, and because she didn’t have to wonder if she could hack it in the big city there was nothing particularly alluring about the bright lights.

But what if one day there was? She took two trips to Manehattan a year, one in the fall and one in the spring to participate in the fashion expos and galas that marked the changing of the fashion season.  Two weeks out of fifty two didn’t seem like a reason to uproot her life. But if she adopted Scootaloo she wouldn’t just be making her own decisions she’d have somepony else's wishes to consider.

Then there was the fact that she would be a single mother, Scootaloo would most likely grow up without a dad.

Rarity took it for granted that she would meet a charming stallion and get married one day. But being a single mother with a small child was not a quality most stallions were looking for.  And while she was sure that she wouldn’t want to be with any stallion who would reject her because she had a child, it was still an obstacle. And didn’t Scootaloo deserve a father of her own? If nothing else, Rarity was sure she could never fill that role.

It was no secret to anyone who knew him that Hondo Flanks had always wanted a son. So, when Pearl gifted him with two daughters instead he channeled all the energy he planned to use teaching his son how to play hoofball into being the best father to little girls he could be. He attended tea parties as the guest of honor and let his daughters paint his hoofs. Rarity had put bows in his mane and styled his tail, and he always wore a gigantic smile on his face while she did. The way his mustache still tickled when he offered her a nuzzle always brought her back to a simpler, happier time.  Rarity loved her mom, but she absolutely adored her dad.  If her own experience was anything to go by, depriving Scootaloo of that relationship seemed wrong somehow.

She looked at Opal, hoping for some form of reassurance but her cat remain fixated on the wall. If anything Opals's concern was that the petting seemed to have momentarily stopped. Autumn is right she thought; she needed think long and hard about this, before she committed to it.