Author's Note
I got a request to do a whimsical, quaint Scootadoption story. Those used to be pretty common, but not so much since canon gave her parents, so my choices were to ignore canon, kill off her parents (an odd direction for a Hearth’s Warming story that’s supposed to be uplifting), or take a bit of a different angle. I hope I've achieved whimsical here—I usually do that by writing in a children’s story style for these Jinglemas things, but it just didn't feel right for me to write Scootaloo that way, as she’s the perspective character. But I went for whimsy in the atmosphere, so here goes.
It Takes a Village
“What’s got you down, squirt?” Rainbow Dash said as she got another napkin out of the dispenser and shoved it next to her milkshake.
Scootaloo didn’t exactly feel like answering, but sometimes Loyalty meant Persistent to the Point of Stubbornness. So she didn’t have a lot of choice, but she did wait until Pinkie had delivered her root beer float and gone back behind the counter to wait on other customers. ‘I might as well not even have parents,” she grumbled.
Dash mouthed a silent “ah” and poked her straw around to break up some of the clumps of ice cream. “What’d they do this time?”
“Sent a letter saying they wouldn’t be coming home for Hearth’s Warming,” she mumbled around her own straw. “Not really a surprise. It’s not like I can remember a single year they actually spent one with me.”
“So come on over to my place again. We always have a good time. A couple of the Wonderbolts might hang out with us, but even without…” Dash raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “You know me. Gets kinda lonely with Tank hibernating. I’d love the company.”
That was never the problem. Rainbow Dash and Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom always gave her invitations, and of course at home with her aunts would work fine, too. “But they’re my parents.”
“I know,” Dash replied, then took a noisy slurp.
Years ago, Scootaloo wouldn’t have read any more into it than that. But after getting to know her so well, she’d started noting Dash’s little tells whenever Scootaloo’s frustrations boiled up: her jaw tensing, her hoof clenching as if she might punch something. Dash probably thought she kept it hidden. “You’d think they might actually put me first for once.”
“It’s tough, kid, but I can kinda see both sides. They’re making important contributions to… whaddya call it? Animal science or somethin’.” Another slurp sounded, and Dash’s eye twitched.
If she didn’t know better, Scootaloo would have glared at Dash and stomped out of here. But Dash didn’t believe a word of what she’d said. “I’d rather have your problem, where your parents can’t think of anything but you.”
Dash rolled her eyes up and shook her head at the heavens. “Grass is greener. I wouldn’t wish that on ya.”
Scootaloo’s eye followed the clink of dishes as Pinkie skated past to another table. “I wanna see if somepony will adopt me,” she said under her breath, but loud enough Dash could hear.
Sure enough, Dash choked on her shake and fell into a coughing fit. She grabbed her napkin and heaved for breath, which at least gave Scoootaloo time to drink down half her float.
“C’mon,” Dash finally said, “your parents aren’t so bad, and you already have your aunts.”
“That’s not the point.”
With one last hack, Dash cleared her throat. “I don’t even think it’s legal to do that, unless you want them declared unfit, and… I dunno, I think that’d be a mistake.”
”That’s not the point.”
Dash watched her for a minute then slid her glass out of the way. “I know. Look, it’s not the best situation, but it’s not the worst either. They do love you. You gotta know that, right?”
Scootaloo nodded slowly.
“Your aunts are great, the other Crusaders would do anything for you, I’d do anything for you, and you can come over any time. We’ll just drag another cloud in to make a nice, comfy place to sleep—”
“I can’t even get there on my own. You gonna carry me?”
Dash huffed a sigh and looked down. “Hey, last time you made it almost a mile on your own. You’re no slouch—”
“But it’s exhausting, and I haven’t gotten any better in the last year—”
“And it doesn’t matter. You can walk on clouds and glide back down on your own, like a pro. That’s real pegasus stuff, too.”
With one last swallow, Scootaloo rattled her straw around in her empty glass, then leaned her head against a hoof. “I know.”
“And an awful lot of ponies care about you.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.” Dash wrinkled her brow, but Scootaloo didn’t want to explain right now. “Thanks for the dessert, but I’ll let you get back to Wonderbolts practice.” She sidled out of her seat and picked up her scooter just outside the door. Maybe the other Crusaders would be at the clubhouse and they could find something fun to do. It was Hearth’s Warming Eve, after all.
Any other pony would have come after her and tried to make her feel better. But Dash wasn’t any other pony. She understood when Scootaloo needed some space and always gave it to her.
On the far side of the town square, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom sipped their peppermint cocoa and listened to the music. Scootaloo had told them she just needed to grab a couple more cookies, but if she took too long, they’d start to wonder what happened to her.
Of course Pinkie was in charge of the cookie table, and who knew where she kept restocking it from, since she never moved from that spot, and nopony else made a trip over to Sugarcube Corner. And of course Pinkie knew exactly what to ask.
“What’s got you down?” she said, her Santa Hooves hat perched way on top of her mass of a mane. It nearly bumped the “Happy Hearth’s Warming Eve” banner strung over the table.
Scootaloo thought about not answering, but that usually resulted in Pinkie following her around and saying, “Huh?” over and over until Scootaloo would gladly shout out her deepest secret. But maybe she could come at it from a little different direction.
“Pinkie, would you adopt me.” She didn’t even say it as a question, didn’t look up at Pinkie, didn’t really think she’d get an answer. Scootaloo could answer it for her. Just a small room in Sugarcube Corner wasn’t enough space for a family, Pinkie spent so much time helping with the Cakes’ twins already, and she’d probably be moving in with Cheese Sandwich soon anyway.
Pinkie leaned closer. “Your parents bailed on you again, didn’t they.” Also not a question. “You know I’d do anything to help you.” Almost anything. “You finally got them to listen to you when they wanted to take you with them. Maybe they’d listen again?”
Scootaloo’s sigh floated away as a puff of steam on the cold breeze. “No, they wouldn’t ever come here on Hearth’s Warming.”
“Not so much that they’d give in, more that they’d understand how you felt,” Pinkie said, looking away for a moment to give a snickerdoodle to Roseluck.
“If they understood how I felt, they’d give in, right?”
In the stretched-out silence, Pinkie only smiled. “You know it wouldn’t even be legal,” she finally said.
“Yeah. Thanks for the gingersnap,” Scootaloo answered, and she crunched on it as she walked over to where the band was taking their break.
“Oh, hello, Scootaloo,” Octavia said, glancing down from the edge of the stage. “Good to see you, and thank you for helping me fix my music stand the other day.” She flicked her eyes toward Scootaloo’s chewing. “Please tell me Pinkie isn’t out of peanut butter cookies yet. I never get any, and now I’m starting to see what Rainbow Dash felt like on cider day all those years.”
“I didn’t see any, but I dunno if they’re all gone or if she hasn’t put them out yet.”
“Well, I’d be chuffed if she got the word and saved me one. Seems like the kind of detail she’d have filed away.” Octavia continued putting her cello in its case, but she eventually noticed that Scootaloo hadn’t left once the small talk ran out. “What is it?”
“Would you adopt me?”
Just like Pinkie’s had, her face twitched between a sympathetic smile and looking like somepony who hadn’t studied for one of Miss Cheerilee’s pop quizzes. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be much better than your parents, always traveling for performances as I am. I couldn’t impose on my roommate either, but I’d ask Vinyl Scratch about it if I thought we could really make it happen.” Octavia stepped down off the stage and patted Scootaloo’s shoulder. “I really appreciate when you help me repair the School of Friendship’s band instruments, and I think the world of you.”
“It’s alright. Pinkie said it wouldn’t be legal anyway.” And that wasn’t even really the point.
“What about your aunts?” Octavia asked.
Scootaloo wouldn’t have guessed it’d take until the third pony for that to occur to one of them. “Naw,” she answered, “Aunt Holiday wouldn’t want to make my dad angry. He’s her favorite brother.”
With a thin smile, Octavia said, “I’m sorry. Lots of folks in this town would love to help you, but I don’t think there’s a way to make this happen.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m just dreaming.” Scootaloo waved a good-bye, and through the crowd, she spotted the one pony who might have an answer for her. And a lull in the party action might just mean she’d have some free time.
She tugged on her quarry’s leg. “Mayor Mare, would you adopt me?”
Unlike everypony else she’d asked so far, no quick flash of panic ran across her face, only a warm grin. “I’d love to. You always help so much, volunteering to deliver the town council minutes to the members’ houses.”
Really? She said yes! She said yes! “Well, it’s already on the Cutie Mark Crusaders Official Stunt Course route, so I’d be going by there anyway.”
“Official Stunt Course?” Now she had that look in her eye like Miss Cheerilee did when somepony got caught sneaking food into class.
“Never mind. So when can we start on the paperwork?”
Mayor Mare’s gaze teetered on becoming a glare, but then came the inevitable. “I would love to adopt you, but there’s no way to make it happen. The petition would be null and void without your parents’ permission, or without some legal process beforehand, like if you wanted to seek emancipation, but that’s very unlikely for someone so young.” She knelt down to look Scootaloo in the eye. “I know they’ve disappointed you, but they haven’t done anything to make them legally unfit—they’ve left you in the capable care of your aunts, who are satisfied with the arrangement. I don’t get the sense that’s really what you want, though.”
Scootaloo groaned. “I know.”
“Just filling out the form wouldn’t do anything. The court would immediately reject it for having no grounds to proceed.”
“I know.” She could feel Mayor Mare’s eyes on her as she walked away.
It wasn’t that she didn’t understand. It made sense not to bother with something doomed to fail. They liked her, and she liked them. She’d gotten to know so many ponies in town well enough that she’d gladly live with them, but it would never happen, and it was a waste of time. She knew that. But they didn’t get it.
Well, it’d all be downhill from there. Mayor Mare was the only one who might have been able to do something about the rules. Scootaloo weaved through the crowd and stopped by any adult she counted as a friend, but she didn’t bother making long conversation, not with so many to get through.
“Roseluck, would you adopt me?”
“If you really came up for adoption, of course!” she replied with a smile. “You help me out with flower deliveries all the time, and I’d enjoy having you in my home.”
“Miss Cheerilee, would you adopt me?”
Cheerilee set her drink down and knelt. “You know I’d love to. But then I’d have to file a bunch of other paperwork to clear up the conflict of interest at having my own daughter in my class, and—” she shielded her mouth with the back of a hoof “—even talking about it might get me in trouble there, so let’s just keep this between us okay?”
“Applejack, would you adopt me?”
Applejack flicked her eyes toward Apple Bloom for a moment. “What, you wanna do one o’ those one-day sister-tradin’ things like Sweetie Belle years ago?” She winced as Apple Bloom jabbed her in the side. At least Apple Bloom understood, but Applejack had that lost look as she stammered, “Wait, I ain’t old enough to be a mama.”
For a change, Scootaloo did get a chuckle out of that one.
“Lyra, Bon Bon, would you two adopt me?”
They glanced at each other. “We were thinking about having kids,” Lyra piped up, “but you’ve already got parents, right?”
“Yeah,” Bon Bon added, “your aunts, too. Lofty and Holiday were always inspirational to us. By the way, thanks for running errands for me when I can’t step away from the candy shop. You’re a great kid.”
Wait, wait, wait. Princesses could change laws! Scootaloo craned her neck around and finally spotted Twilight Sparkle at a table with Fluttershy and Rarity. She buzzed her way over and didn’t even let them get to a pause in their conversation. “Princess Twilight, would you adopt me?”
Fluttershy immediately hid her muzzle below the tabletop, and Rarity looked more… amused? Not like she was watching Scootaloo crash and burn, but more like she already knew what Twilight would say. So Scootaloo turned to Twilight, who wore a gentle smile.
“Of course I will.”
After a few seconds, nothing else had followed. No qualifiers, no explanations, no excuses. “You mean it?”
“Yes, I do.”
“But I already have parents, and there’s no legal reason to change that, so filling out the paperwork would hit a dead end right away.”
Twilight’s smile didn’t flinch one bit. “I don’t care.”
“Are you going to change the law so it does something different?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have the authority for that.”
“And you’ll still do it?”
Twilight slid an empty chair next to her and beckoned Scootaloo toward it, and when she sat down, she felt a warm wing around her. “Of course I would. You want to make a statement and if that gets your parents angry, too bad. It’s not about them. It’s about letting you know you’re loved, and if all it takes is something simple like filling out a sheet of paper that I know is destined for the recycle bin in order to let you know you’re totally worth the effort, then that sure sounds like a no-brainer. And even on the outside chance that it worked and I became your legal guardian as a result, then I would totally be okay with that, too.”
She… she got it. Of all these ponies, she completely understood. Rarity had an even bigger grin on than Twilight, and Fluttershy finally showed her face, also adorned with a smile.
“It’s too late tonight,” Twilight continued, “and government offices are closed on Hearth’s Warming Day, but come by Town Hall on the day after at nine in the morning. I’ll be there.” She gave Scootaloo a squeeze, then a little shove out of her chair. “Now go have some fun with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. There’s still a lot of party left.”
That sounded like a great idea.
Nine o’clock, and Scootaloo didn’t see Twilight anywhere. In fact, the streets seemed a little emptier than usual. Some market stalls open, but the flower mares? No Derpy on her mail route? Maybe everypony was getting a late start.
She walked up Town Hall’s front steps to peek in the window—oh, there Twilight was! Scootaloo pushed open the door, the bell tinkling behind her, and sidled over to the grinning princess, who already had her form filled out! Princess Twilight Sparkle, signed, in a petition to adopt Scootaloo!
Her cheeks went dreadfully warm. “Thanks, Twilight,” she said, but Twilight still wore an odd smile. Over here near the stacks of forms, the room wasn’t too busy, but the lines on the other end were packed! “What’s going on?”
“Next!” one of the agents called, and Octavia stepped up to the service station. “Ah, petition for adoption of… Scootaloo.”
And the warmth in Scootaloo’s cheeks only burned more fiercely. Every single pony in line waved at her, and on their forms… “Scootaloo,” written in large print. All of them. Every one.
Octavia, Cheerilee, Derpy, Doctor Whooves, Nurse Redheart, Lyra, Bon Bon, Roseluck, Daisy, Lily Valley, Mayor Mare, Junebug, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Granny Smith, Fluttershy, Rarity, Blossomforth, Davenport, Mr. Cake… and practically every other pony she knew in town.
“Twilight, did you do this?”
“Actually, no. Everypony showed up on their own.”
The Cutie Mark Crusaders had several universal truths: one, that Apple Bloom was nosy enough to dig up any piece of information on anypony she wanted to; two, that Sweetie Belle never used a word when a more precise one was available, especially if it was one nopony else had ever heard of before; and three, that Scootaloo never cried.
This was really pushing it, but a few well-timed sniffles kept everything in check. “Thanks, everypony,” she said. “This is why Ponyville is such a great place to live.” Except the one pony she expected to be first in line was nowhere in sight. “Where’s Rainbow Dash, though?”
Twilight angled her head back outside, so Scootaloo turned—
She nearly fell over at Dash’s face pressed against the glass. A grin broke out, but she had to fight it down. Explanations needed to be given first.
“So Dash, why aren’t you filling one out?”
Rainbow got her usual look, as if the world was an inconvenience to her. “I don’t need some piece of paper to define us. Besides, I’m the coolest big sister you could ever have, and who your parents are doesn’t interfere with that, so what’s the use in changing it? I get to hang out with you the same either way.”
“I guess that’s true. But it felt nice to see ponies go to the trouble for me.”
“Yeah, I knew they all would. I wasn’t worried. Still, I’d totally adopt you if you ever really needed me to.”
Dash would be Dash, she supposed, and nothing stuck with her quite like Loyalty.
“But I did have this other paperwork to fill out…” Dash continued. She pulled a folded-up sheet from her saddlebag and flattened it out on the ground. “Twenty-five reasons why Scootaloo is the coolest little sister ever,” she read from the header. Then she tousled Scootaloo’s mane. “Seriously, though, they totally don’t give you enough room on this form. Twenty-five doesn’t even begin to cover it. I hit fifty before I had to stop for breakfast. Why don’t I take you out for some pancakes, and we can get the next fifty done? That might get us to the halfway mark.”
Scootaloo grinned and definitely didn’t cry. This was turning out to be a pretty darn good Hearth’s Warming after all.
