Partial

by Halira

Chapter 12: How Kids Grow Up

It took a few minutes to convince the nurses on duty to let them through to Mark's grandmother. It took Jessica's dad throwing his weight around as a social services agent, but they were granted access.

"Grandma!"

Jessica didn't know what to do. Mark was curled up against his grandmother's side, crying his heart out. Assuring him that she wasn't dead didn't help. She might as well be lifeless while in a coma. This had been going on for minutes, and no one had the heart to tear him away from the only family he knew.

"Jordan, can you keep an eye on Mark and ensure he doesn't run off?" Jessica asked. "My dad and I need to have a talk."

Her dad turned and raised an eyebrow at her.

Jordan, who was sitting on a couch on the side of the room, gave Mark a sad look. "I can do that, but I don't think he intends on going anywhere."

"Still, keep alert," Jessica instructed. She then walked over to the bed where Mark and his grandmother were. "Hey, I'll be right back. My dad and I need to talk about something in private."

Mark's head jerked up. "No! Stay!"

She raised her hands. "I'll be right outside the door. Not far at all. Jordan will be here to make sure you're safe. She's my friend. You can trust her."

"I'm nice and love kids," Jordan chimed in. "I have lots of foalsitting experience too."
,
Mark huddled closer to his grandmother and cried some more. Jordan's ears sagged.

"I'm not that scary," Jordan sadly said as she lowered her head.

"Don't take it personally, Jor. He has a hard time dealing with people. Just keep him from getting into trouble and be kind if you have to run interference," Jessica instructed. She looked to her side. "Ready, Dad?"

"Very well," her dad replied. The two of them walked out the door and shut it behind them. Jessica put a sound barrier around them to keep Mark from overhearing them.

"What kind of foster home are you planning on putting him in, Dad?" Jessica asked.

"We have several initial homes for newly orphaned kids. They're all good people, used to dealing with troubled kids dealing with trauma," her dad answered.

"Are there other kids there?" Jessica asked.

He nodded. "Yes, kids in similar situations. Kids who-"

"Kids who are angry at what has happened to them and looking for someone to take it out on," Jessica interrupted.

He stepped back. "That is a grossly unfair generalization of those kids. You can't make such broad statements about kids you haven't ever met."

She raised a finger and pointed it at her dad's chest. "So, are you saying that isn't the case with any of these kids?"

He sighed. "No, I can't, but I can vouch for the foster parents. They've got experience with this. They can keep kids safe, even from each other, if it comes down to that."

She pointed towards the room. "They're experienced dealing with partial kids so small they could easily be stuffed into a drawer or box? Kids that had virtually no contact with the outside world beyond one person who is no longer around?"

"Some young pony foals are no bigger, so yes to that," he answered. "Some of the kids come in not talking much. You must understand kids don't come into foster care under happy circumstances. These are kids who came from circumstances ranging from abusive homes, losing parents suddenly to accidents or illness, to kids who had parents who had to give them up due to homelessness. Many of them don't do much talking either. These foster parents are used to it."

She gripped her hands into fists. "Are they used to kids who the world sees as freaks because they look different and who also have had literally no contact with other people up until now?"

He gripped her shoulder. "Jessie, I know you got into an altercation with that nurse. I don't doubt for a second she said something reprehensible. You don't lose your cool like that unless someone pushes you, usually not even then. Without even hearing it, I wanted to punch her for whatever she said, woman or not. She isn't everyone. You have to trust there are good people out there who will give him real love and care."

She grunted. "You know, it is far more feminist for you to have punched her. Treating her as the weaker sex is rather misogynistic. You aren't that strong, Dad. It would have been close to an even fight."

He blinked. "Are you advocating for violence?"

She shrugged. "Part of me wants someone to rearrange her face. I couldn't, not just because I'd get in trouble but because I am drastically stronger and would end up giving her much worse than a bloody nose. Plus, I do have the wisdom to know that violence is not the answer." She shook her head. "I didn't want you to hit her. However, in the moment, I wanted her to feel like I felt. I'm as human as anyone else. When I'm hurt or angry, my first instinct is to lash out. That's why I don't trust other kids around Mark. I know what is natural. We're all illogical, hateful creatures, and children don't have the wisdom to rise above it, and he isn't prepared for it."

He released her shoulder. "So young and yet so cynical. I wish I could have taught you to be more hopeful, but I know you have had reason to have developed this way. In my line of work, you have to believe in hope. That's what these kids need, along with love and kindness. I got into this work after feeling hopeless with you and learning that just because things are difficult doesn't mean that love can't win out. I hear your concerns, and I'm listening to them. I will address them to my supervisors and regularly follow up after he's moved into foster care. I promise."

She looked away. "I trust you. I'm still worried about him. Mom's told me I don't get the whole partial experience. Mark is going to get the whole experience intensified. You see the things I have to endure. You can try to imagine what it is like, but even you admit you don't know what it is like. Try to imagine what Mark is going to go through. Maybe you have more imagination than me, because I can't imagine it. I only know it will be far worse than what I deal with, and he is not prepared for it."

Her dad smiled. "Sorry, I shouldn't be smiling, but I'm more proud of you right now than when you came up with Middleton's Law. That time you saved Jordan might have earned you more pride from me, but I was too scared at the time to feel anything else. Despite all your cynicism, you do have a deeply caring heart."

She frowned. "I'd rather you be proud of me for Middleton's Law. Caring about others shouldn't earn a person a pat on the back. It should be the default."

"Yet you're a cynic who doesn't believe that is the default," her dad reminded her. "What do you say about common sense?"

She sighed. "Fine. I still want updates on him. If things start to go bad, you must step in and do something. Try to stop something bad from happening at all."

He hugged her. "I will. I promise, and I won't stop being proud of you for your empathy. Don't worry; I'm proud of Middleton's Law too. I just see some things as more important."

"I appreciate the sentiment, I guess. Let's get back in there," Jessica said as her dad released her.

Jessica released her sound block as they returned to the room. Mark hadn't moved from where he had been.

"All he's done is whimper and cry," Jordan informed him. "I tried talking to him to calm him, but it didn't seem to help."

"I was listening," Jessica informed her.

Jordan nodded. "I figured. He doesn't seem ready to leave. I'm not in a rush to go home–it doesn't feel like home yet, but you owe me some Waffle House before we get groceries if this gets too late."

Jessica frowned in thought at Mark's curled-up form. "Jordan, I know I promised you I would take you grocery shopping, but I might need to spend a few hours here. Maybe my dad can take you."

"Jessie, you don't have to do that. You aren't responsible for Mark. He needs to get back to his room," her dad said.

"I'll get him back to his room when he's gotten enough time," Jessica replied, resisting gritting her teeth. "This might be the last time…the last time for a long time he'll get to see her. I'll get him back to his room and tuck him in; I promise."

It might be the last time he got to see his grandmother at all.

"I'll have to tell the nurses where he is and that he's with you," her dad countered. She knew what he was doing. It wasn't going to work.

"Then you better advise them that it would be unwise to rush him getting back up there," she growled. "Mark is healthy. He is being supervised. If he had a healthy guardian, he could walk out of here today. He doesn't need to be kept in his room."

"Technically, he's still recovering from being malnourished, so he isn't completely healthy yet," her dad reminded her. She glared at him, and he seemed to relent. "Alright, but don't cause a scene if they come here and ask you to return him to his room."

She nodded stiffly and fished out her debit card, and then passed it to her dad. "Here, this is for Jor's groceries and Waffle House if she wants it."

"I can stay. I don't mind," Jordan said.

"Jor, you have been patient enough, and I don't know how long I'll be. You're already going to be dealing with jetlag, and you need your groceries. We can meet up again tomorrow."

Her dad adjusted his glasses. "I don't mind taking you shopping. I appreciate that you came here to help. Let me call Devon to let her know what's going on, and we can be on our way. Maybe Robby and Nightscape will decide to join us. It allows them to get out and about town–even if it is just the grocery store and Waffle House. It feels unfair for them to stay cramped when visiting."

Jordan still looked apprehensive but got off the couch. "Okay, I suppose that's alright. I am a little tired, and I still need to eat. Don't let those nurses get you upset again."

"I'll keep my temper in check," Jessica replied. "Thanks again for coming, Jor."

Her dad patted her on the back. "Don't stay here too late, and make sure Mark makes it back to his room."

"I won't stay extremely late, and I will make sure he gets back where he belongs," she assured him.

Jessica watched her dad and best friend leave before looking back at Mark.

"I'm going to sit on the couch and give you time, but I have to take you back to your room sooner or later," she informed him.

"Want to stay!" Mark protested.

"I know," she said sympathetically. "I wish I could let you stay. I'll tuck you into bed, and I'll tell those nurses to keep your distance from you."

"Bad," Mark muttered.

"Yeah, I know they are," she agreed.

She planned to let him fall asleep and then take him back to his room. Hopefully, him being asleep would be enough to make the nurses leave him alone. That was if he would even stay asleep with her picking him up. At some point, he had to get tired enough to manage it. He'd worn himself out running around and crying.

What was going to happen to him? With how silent and scared he was, he could be interpreted as being stupid by others and treated as such, in addition to the prejudice he received as a partial. He wasn't as smart as her; only a handful of people were, but he wasn't stupid. He was very disciplined, evidenced by how silent he kept himself and how well he hid. His grandmother had taught him to hide, and he did an exceptional job at it. His dialogue wasn't top rate, but it was much better than Eve's, who was only a year younger so that tracked that he was developing on course.

She looked at the grandmother. That woman was old enough that if she did wake up, she was unlikely to be able to do much.

She sat down on the couch and waited because someone had to be there who cared.

---

In a dark abandoned warehouse in New Orleans, an elderly man carrying a suitcase hesitantly approached a circle of cloaked unicorns.

A mare stepped forward, smiling. "Do you have the full payment we agreed upon?"

He held up the suitcase and set it on the floor, then opened it, revealing it was packed tightly with hundred dollars bills.

"It's all here," the man answered. "Please, let me speak to my Helena."

The mare levitated some of the bills in front of her and flipped through them, nodded, returned them to the case, and then levitated the entire thing over to a human.

"It seems like you upheld your side; we will uphold our end. Come, let's begin," the mare replied.

The man followed the mare, and she indicated he should stay in the circle's center. She joined the other unicorns in the ring.

They all lit their horns, and a pentagram lit up between them. They started chanting. Ya Ra Ma Da Cra La Ma! The pentagram glowed with a fiery light. Fog began to envelop their surroundings. Ya Ra Ma Da Cra La Ma! they continued to chant.

The mare held her head high. "Let the veil between life and death part! Hear me, Helena Colbert! I, Menta Talos, command your spirit to return! I command you to come before us and speak to your husband! Come, ease his heart, and tell him how your afterlife treats you!"

The fires intensified, and a glow enveloped the older man. He gasped as a shadowy form appeared in front of him.

"Arturo?" the shadow asked. It reached a hand out to him. "Arturo, is it really you?"

The man started to cry. "Helena! You're here! You've come back to me!"

"Arturo," the shadow gently said. "You look so frail. Have you been eating as you should?"

Arturo let off a sad laugh. "You still worry about my eating?"

The image took a clearer shape of an older woman who queried an eyebrow at him. "Who else will? You better not be living off cheese balls again. If I could, I would cook you a nice pot roast."

"Like you made me every birthday," Arturo replied. "I haven't had it since you passed."

"You could have Alex make you it," the shadow replied.

Arturo blinked. "I didn't think you knew that Alex ever made-"

"I think we've seen enough."

The shadow vanished, and the fiery circle disappeared as all the unicorns staggered. Three humans in stealth black stealth gear came rushing forward and started kicking the unicorns to the ground. Only their faces were uncovered.

"What? What are you doing?! Helena!" Arturo screamed.

One of the unicorn stallions shook off the initial shock and snarled at the invading humans. He lit his horn only to have a crystal pony mare buck him in the face, making him drop like a rock.

"Some of them have got some fight to them," the crystal pony said gleefully. "Good, I rarely get a chance to let loose."

"This isn't a game, Crystal," one of the other human combatants said as she punched a unicorn in the face.

"Oh, come on, Tempest. Tell me you aren't happy getting to kick some flank of ponies you don't have to worry about hurting," the crystal pony mare replied with a huff.

The woman downed one of the unicorns' human goons with ease. "I am holding back. If I weren't, I would be killing these cretans. We're here to put a stop to this and bring these ponies to justice. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Why are you doing this? My wife! They brought her back to me!" Arturo sobbed.

"They're conning you, bud," Crystal answered as she bucked another unicorn. "These scum can't bring back the dead. They were stealing information from your mind to create a believable illusion and get the passwords and account numbers for all your financial information. We're agents of the OMMR, and these people broke mind magic rules. Hey, wasn't someone supposed to announce our intentions? Whose job was that?"

"Mine," another woman said as she made a sword and pointed at Menta Talos's face. "Menta Talos, we are agents of the OMMR. The Dreamwardens have discovered you using mind magic without consent for malicious reasons. Under the laws of the dream realm, supported locally by the 2025 amendments to the United States Seditious Magic Code of 2024 and the United Nations Mind Magic Law Enforcement Code of 2025, we are authorized to use any and all force to apprehend a mind magic user using mind magic criminally and use such force against those who stand in our way if need be. You will stand down so we can arrest you and deliver you to the local authorities, where you may plead your case under national laws, or I will beat you to a pulp for preying on the emotions of vulnerable older people for their money. I can quote the legal articles to you word-for-word if you wish."

"Announcement was a little late, Blanche," Crystal said as she bucked another unicorn. "Do you know the articles by heart? That's impressive, and a lot of words."

The large man on their team yelled something in another language.

"Didn't catch that, Artyom. I don't speak Russian," Crystal said as she looked for another unicorn to buck.

"He says we aren't giving them an opportunity to surrender," Tempest translated.

Menta looked at the sword still pointed at her, gulped, then looked at her fallen compatriots. "I surrender."

"I'm fairly certain that's what I just offered," Blanche said as her sword disappeared and was replaced by chains. She began chaining up Menta Talos.

Tempest looked over the fallen unicorns and their goons. "Mission accomplished. Crystal, Artyom, you two attend to the victim. Help him understand what these charlatans were trying to pull and ensure his money didn't exit the back door."

Artyom started rambling in Russian.

Crystal threw back her head in frustration. "You understand English. Why won't you speak in it?"

Artyom laughed.

Tempest approached Blanche and Menta Talos and put a magic dampener on the unicorn's horn. She then started cuffing the unicorn as Blanche's magically constructed chains dematerialized. "She's the only one we've been ordered to take, the only one using mind magic. The rest of these fools are the concern for the local authorities."

Blanche grimaced. "It seems overkill to send the Elite out to catch scum like this. We aren't common agents; we are the Dreamwardens' personal guard; I don't like wasting my talents on a mere con artist."

"The majority of the Elite are not present, nor are our most powerful members, so they didn't go full overkill. This was still a mind magic criminal who needed to be brought to justice. We could bring a team of mages down faster than a common OMMR team. Unless we have legitimate concerns, we have but to obey," Tempest answered.

Blanche gave Menta a harsh glare, and the unicorn flinched away before Blanche looked at Tempest. "You and I may not be the most powerful, but we're the most combat trained. This is hardly a combat situation. These unicorns didn't even have a chance to fight and collapsed without a fight, but I doubt they could accomplish much if they tried. Their goons were no more than common street thugs. I ended a would-be god in another universe; I could have neutralized this entire group by myself. I think wasting our talents on this is a legitimate concern, so I will question it. Aren't you concerned that Phobia sent both you and Crystal on this mission?"

Tempest shook her head. "Take it up with your Dreamwarden if you are concerned. I have no answers, nor is it enough to make me concerned. The new kid is watching Phobia. He's a little overeager to prove his worth, but I trust him to keep her safe. Moon is still near his mother as well. I'm actually pleased by this development. Phobia is letting males guard her, which would have been unthinkable a few short years ago. It is much-needed progress on her recovery."

"It's still strange that we are here," Blanche muttered.

"Phobia has given me strange orders before, and I hear The Marshmallow frequently gives you assignments of a far more questionable nature," Tempest replied.

"The Marshmallow has a…standard…pattern to their questionable orders. This doesn't fit those patterns," Blanche muttered.

"You can ask The Marshmallow yourself. The blob's been watching us the whole time! Oh, and the police will be here in five minutes," Crystal called to them from across the room.

Blanche crossed her arms. "Horrible response time for the police. We called them before we started bashing heads. Hey, Marshmallow, care to inform us why we had to take care of this?"

A floating smiling emoji appeared. "Great job taking these bozos down, though I think you could have shouted some creative catchphrases or something to intimidate them into submission. Violence is so icky and dull, but I suppose it gets the job done. As for why, they made a person we are trying to negotiate with rather upset. They don't like the dead being used as leverage over others, even if it was all a trick. We wanted to ensure they were taken down quickly with no complications to appease them enough to talk to us. There was another reason too, but that's for us to know and you to try to eventually puzzle out–or not; not a big deal either way. Anyway, I've got to go and wait for official confirmation you got the job done. Have fun!" The Marshmallow vanished.

"Your Dreamwarden is strange; you know that?" Tempest asked.

Blanche snorted. "You have no idea. You don't have to deal with The Marshmallow in person."

Tempest finished securing Menta. "I have to deal with Phobia in person, so I'm aware of how neurotic Dreamwardens can be. It seems to be a job requirement. Yours seems more neurotic than the others."

The Marshmallow reappeared. "Oh, yeah! We need the four of you to head to Denver. This was more of a pit stop. You can call for direction when you get there. I think that's everything important, only unimportant details forgotten if I forget anything. Arbiter is slapping her face about something, so maybe I did. I'm sure it will work out. Gotta go!" The Marshmallow vanished again.

"Your Dreamwarden is very strange," Tempest reiterated.

Blanche looked around and sighed. "Let's round up the remainder of these idiots so the police and paramedics can collect them quickly. After that, we'll drop our target off at the jail and be on our way."

Crystal came back, looking concerned. "We've got company. It looks like army special forces."

Tempest frowned at her coworker. "Why? These unicorns present no serious threat."

Crystal shrugged. "No clue, though they've got a familiar face with them. Charlotte has apparently gone straight from basic training to a captain in the army. They must have rushed her through."

Blanche shared a look with Tempest. "I think we know why. They're here to intimidate us. They brought in one of the few fighters that actually hope to take one of us down if conflict broke out."

Tempest grunted. "Charlotte might be able to take one of us, but not all four of us at once unless they somehow drafted her siblings along with her. How many soldiers are there?"

"Only five, and I can tell the other four aren't on her level and no crystal ponies. We'd easily mop the floor with those four and then be able to turn our attention to Charlotte," Crystal answered. "They are only lightly armed as well."

"They're putting us on notice that they're putting a team together that can take us down if need be," Blanche deduced. "It's posturing, but something we should take care with. Charlotte, with a larger, better-equipped force, could be a threat if we give them an excuse to move against us."

Tempest growled. "This is your Dreamwarden's fault. Those extraordinary missions must be drawing undue attention."

Blanche nodded. "I can't contest that. Let's talk to these officers so we can be on our way.

---

"I can't believe she said that!" Nightscape exclaimed, dropping her fork from her wing.

Robby chuckled. "You've heard me and Jessie go at it with one another. Jessie can throw shade with the best of them."

Nightscape glared at her husband. "I meant, I can't believe she insinuated that anyone who went to school in Florida is an idiot. I grew up in Florida!"

Jordan pointed her levitated fork at the pair. "I don't think she meant it as a blanket statement. You do have to admit that Florida does have overall lower scores in math, science, and reading. There are still some intelligent students who do well, but it's pretty bad for the most part. I read about it last year while presenting for my student teaching reports."

"I don't think you're helping soothe her by mentioning that," Mr. Middleton said before taking another bite of his hashbrowns.

Jordan felt her face redden. "I'm sorry! I'm putting my hoof in my mouth. Thanks, Mr. Middleton."

"You're eighteen; you don't have to address me like that. I understand it was respectful when you were a filly, but we're both adults, and you aren't my employee, so call me Paul. I even have the kids that I deal with on the job call me Paul," Jessica's father replied, mouth half-filled with food.

Robby smiled at his dad. "So, do I call you that, Dad?"

Paul gave his son a dirty look. "Only if you want to find a hotel room instead of staying at the house."

Robby chuckled but didn't push his luck.

Nightscape turned her attention to Jordan and narrowed her eyes. "What are you all fancied up for? Are you trying to seduce my husband? You think you're hot enough to make him stray, is that it?"

Jordan's eyes bulged. "What?! No!! I would never try something like that. Robby's been like the big brother I never had. Why would you-"

Nightscape bared her teeth. "So, you're trying to seduce my father-in-law, your best friend's father. For shame!"

Jordan's mouth just worked, but no words were coming out.

"She's messing with you, Jordan," Robby said. "I know the two of you haven't spent much time around one another, even though you were both bridesmaids at that one wedding, but Nighty loves getting rises out of people. She's honestly kind of a jerk."

Nightscape burst out laughing and pointed a hoof at Jordan, not protesting her label as a jerk. "Oh, my god, you are so easy! That should have been obvious. How the hell are you going to survive at Wabash Manor? I've never been there, but I heard you need a strong backbone to live there."

Jordan looked down as her ears sagged. That sounded exactly like what Andrea had said about her. Once again, she wondered if she had made a mistake.

Robby glared at his wife. "I think you hit a nerve."

Nightscape immediately stopped laughing. "I'm very sorry. I didn't think you would react that way. I say and do things, but it is never meant to hurt. It's a bad habit I picked up back in college. You could say anything to my roommates and bathroommates, and it would roll right off. Rebecca talked about you all the time back when we were sharing a room."

Jordan's ears perked up. "Good things, I hope."

Nightscape waved a hoof. "Early on, she was a little frustrated a filly was bodyguarding her, but after her trip to Equestria, she was more than happy with anybody standing between her and danger. She must think highly of you if she made you one of her bridesmaids at her wedding. I honestly don't remember much about that wedding, to tell the truth, other than Eve making us fight her for Rebecca's wedding collar. I was too busy carrying Umber around inside me." She leveled a hard look at her husband. "He's going to be the last one. Pregnancy and I do not get along."

Robby nuzzled her. "Don't worry. The doctor finalized the schedule, and the vasectomy is next month. Just be aware, I'll be very peeved if you change your mind about having more after it's done."

Paul waved his hand. "How about we don't talk about that, especially while we're eating. Making me feel ill thinking about it."

Nightscape rolled her eyes. "Why are so many males so squeamish?"

"You get squeamish when human women discuss their menstrual cycles, hun," Robby reminded her.

Nightscape and Jordan both paled. Jordan couldn't help imagining all that blood. How did humans deal with that every month? She would freak out if she started leaking blood out of there every month. To think that Jessie had been dealing with that since she was seven was hard to believe. Jordan had nothing against humans, but that was disgusting and unnerving. She couldn't imagine a stallion wanting to touch that area if there was a chance it was like that or even knowing it was like that once a month. She was no shimmerist, but in the case of monthly cycles, ponies were superior.

"Eww, don't talk about that," Jordan whined. "How about we talk about this Mark kid? Jessie seems to be protective of him. I think it's cute. Is she considering adopting?"

"She's nineteen and single; I don't think that's a great idea," Nightscape said. "Eve is a lot to deal with, even with Robby and me working together, and I dread it when Umber starts his demon phase, and we have to deal with both of them causing chaos at once. Jess trying to deal with a kid on her lonesome seems like a recipe for disaster."

"Eve isn't that bad," Robby disagreed.

His wife gave him a flat look. "Do you remember last month when I was getting my stuff together to present my concepts for the Old Town Bank renovation and found out at the last second she had found my concept drawings and used them as a coloring book?"

"Eve wanted to help her mommy with her work. That was kinda funny and adorable," Robby said with a smile.

Nightscape groaned. "We can laugh about it now, but it wasn't funny when I was standing in a meeting with the people I was trying to market my design to and trying to have them forgive me for showing up with my sketches looking like that. I'm the primary income earner. We can't afford for me to fumble those meetings. If people don't take me seriously as an architect, we don't eat. I'm a young night pony female trying to make it in a field dominated by humans, unicorns, earth ponies, and primarily males. I only get my hoof in the door to present my designs to some of these clients because I have three Dreamwardens vouching for me. They wouldn't give me a chance otherwise, and if I don't come off as professional or seem for a minute like I can't cut it, they won't give me chances even with the Dreamwardens as references."

Robby nuzzled his wife. "I know that incident scared the crap out of you and nearly sent you into a nervous breakdown, but we talked to Eve about not touching your stuff, and we made sure your work materials were better secured. Kids are going to be kids, and night pony foals tend to be wilder than most. What she did wasn't even that wild; it was just coloring. I know she runs around, and now that her climbing has started, we have a whole new list of foalproofing tasks to do back home, but she isn't that bad. You didn't grow up around Phobia's three demons. You want to talk about nightmares in the house? Those three were nightmares in the house."

Paul adjusted his glasses. "Being a parent is hard work. Every kid presents their own set of struggles. Jessie was overall very well-behaved as a kid, but she also was developmentally on very different levels when it came to different aspects of her life that led to no end of headaches, even before factoring in her magic. Try dealing with an eight or nine-year-old who has less social development than most first graders who is also going through early puberty and all the body changes and emotional changes that come with that; along with being so intelligent, she looks down on almost everyone she comes in contact with as idiots. She's over most of that now, but she was not an easy child to raise, even if she was well-behaved."

"She's still a bit off emotionally and socially. I love her, but it's true," Robby said with a shake of his head.

"If you compare her to people your age, but she's not your age," Jordan protested.

"No, this isn't an age thing," Robby replied. "Jessie had a screwed-up development, leaving her socially stunted. She's had the same circle of friends since she was eight because she doesn't trust anyone else's intentions to let them be her friend, and she rarely spends much time engaging in activities with the friends she has. These past two nights that she has spent with us while we have been visiting are the first back-to-back days I've seen her try to relax and have fun since…well, since before the Cataclysm. I know she came to Skytree on and off through the years to visit, but it was only a few hours each time she spent with anyone. I think you have the most time spent hanging out with her, and until now, you didn't even live on the same side of the country."

"Which, getting back to the main point, is why she shouldn't adopt that kid," Nightscape said. "How is she supposed to help a socially stunted kid if she's socially stunted herself?"

Jordan hit her hoof on the table. "Because she can understand him where others can't! Whether it is being partial or being nervous about what others are saying and doing, that's what he's feeling, and she understands it. Maybe it can help her grow out of her problems if she has to help him grow out of his problems."

Robby looked at Paul. "What do you think, Dad? You're the social worker. You have a better idea of what troubled kids need."

Paul put on a neutral face. "First of all, Jessie has not expressed interest in fostering or adopting him, so this discussion is completely conjecture. Second of all, as a social worker, I try not to express my opinions about such things outside the process because that is a bias. Third of all, Jessie is my daughter, and I would be unauthorized to give my opinions because I can't separate my feelings as her parent from my judgment of the situation. So, I'm not going to give an opinion, only express that this is a pointless conversation unless she actually says she wants to adopt Mark. I don't think anyone should pressure her to do so or not to do so. Adoption should never be the result of pressure to adopt. Adoption is also a two-way street, and I don't think Mark is ready to be adopted by anyone, even if he trusts Jessie more than others. We are still at the fostering stage. I'm not going to give an opinion of her doing that for the same reasons."

"Oh, but we can be supportive if she does say she wants to foster, right?" Jordan asked.

"There's nothing wrong with being supportive, just don't push her to it," Paul answered. "Anyway, let me pay the tab, and then we can get your groceries. At this rate, you might not be getting home till midnight, and you are already dealing with being two hours behind your normal daylight hours."