Sympathy for Scootaloo Pt 3

>Morning comes.
>YOU CAN’T BREATHE!
>What’s on your chest?!?!
>Oh... OH RIGHT. It’s just Scootaloo
>She’s comfortably draped across your chest still snoozing.
>Eh, let her sleep.... Uh oh...
>BLADDER!!!!!!!
>You successfully manage to free yourself and tuck her back in.
>Damn cute filly being all cute and stuff.
>Perhaps you should ask her what her nightmare was last night.
>That’s what a responsible da.... caretaker does right?
>Why are you so bad at this?
>No don’t think like that. You’re not bad, you’re doing ok.
>You whip up a quick breakfast for two
>Plenty of fruits and veggies and just in time
>She saunters out of your room, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “Ngh Morning”
>”Hey there kiddo,”
>Kiddo? Seriously idiot?
>Too early for this brain
>She pulls up a chair and digs in happily.
>”So, any plans today?”
>Her eyes go wide and she shouts with a mouth full of food. “YEAH! Rainbow Dash is coming back today and I’m going to meet her and she’s going to tell me all about BoltCon and how AWESOME it was!”
>Oh fucking score! Dash comes back today.


>After breakfast you start talking about Scootaloo’s hobbies. The top of which seems to be her friends and her board.
>”Hey,” you say “Maybe I could see you do some sweet tricks.”
> Oh she jumps at that. “Why wait? C’mon let’s go!”
>How is something so small pushing you out the door. Not that you object, you want to get involved in her hobbies and all.
>She puts on her helmet, grabs her board, and with an odd buzzing sound she’s rocketing down the road.
>One sweet bootlegger turn later and she’s zooming back towards you.
>Man she’s fast.
>Oh jeez, she launched off that dirt mound.
>Sweet 360 followed by a Superman and perfect landing.
>Damn, she’s pretty good and you cheer to let her know.
>She passes and you catch the smile she flashes you.
>She keeps it up for about an hour.
>You’re considering calling her in. She insists on just one more trick.
>Bam, off the ramp. She leans back... back flip sweet.
>Oh man, she let go of the board... ballsy trick.
>That’s no trick.
>Her wings flapping does little to soften the impact.
>Your heart stops as you watch her slide to a stop.
>You rush over. It isn’t until she stirs that you remember you need to breathe.

>It’s ok, you just killed the filly you were looking after.
>No big deal, these things happen.
>She groans and gets to her hooves.
>Thank you Jeebus!
>”Scoots, are you ok?” You rush to her side and start checking her over.
>She just sighs and nods.
>A few small scratches and a couple of bumps, but she seems ok.
>You follow her eyes to... her board.
>The impact sure did a number on it. Or rather it’s in a number... of pieces.
>She sighs heavily and takes a seat. “I’m just no good at anything.”
>Whoa “Hey now. You were great out there. All because you wiped out once doesn’t mean you should just give up.”
>She kicks a rock. “I don’t know why I even try...”
>”No,” you snap, getting her attention “The only guaranteed way to fail is to not even try or just give up. All you need to do is clean your battle wounds and get back to it.” Oh that’s good, maybe you should let Twilight know for one of her letters.
>She tries to smile but looks back to her board. “Not with my ride like THAT.”
>You playfully scoff at her. “That old thing? Not cool enough for a wheeled speedster like yourself. I’ll just have to make you a new one and awesomize it for you a bit.”
>Ah finally, a real smile from her.
>Heh, maybe this whole “dad” thing won’t be too hard
>....... Dad? shit.

>You guess that’s what you are to her now.
>Dad. Damn
>A stupid thought hits you. Do you need to make this official? Is there a P0nyville adoption agency you need to go to first?
>That’s something you need to look into. Sooner preferable to later.
>You decide to make sure her scratches are dressed properly and let her have free reign of your movie stash.
>You let her know you’ll be back in a bit and promise that if you see Rainbow Dash, you’ll bring her by.
>You are a man with a mission. Focused on the job that needs to be done.... too focused.
>Your head hurts really bad. The trees are moving really weird.
>Wait a second, it’s not the trees moving, it’s you.
>”Looks like yer finally up Sugarcube.” Ah yes, the friendly tones of Applejack.
>”Not now... please not now” You groan out.
>You stop moving and AJ stands over you. “Well gots ta be today. I just been so derned busy and our friend Dashie is supposed to get back today.”
>You struggle a bit “No, you don’t get it.”
>”Nope I do not atall.” She starts running a hoof up your thigh.
>”Stop it, you don’t understand, she NEEDS me.”
>AJ scoffs “Who, Dash? She don’t...” You don’t give her a chance to continue.
>”Not her you heartless bitch!” You shout, making AJ jump. “Scootaloo... No one or p0ny cares one ounce for her. But I do.”
>AJ frowns, hesitates, then starts to undo the ropes. “I’m sorry. I... I know I’m not the brightest lightenin’ bolt in the cloud, but family... even unorthydox ones, I understand completely.”
>You get up without a word and pokerface in full effect.
>”I jus’ thought Fluttershy was tellin’ a tale.” I... I’m sorry ther Anon.”
>Accept, accept and run you fool.
>You give her a hug.
>TOO MUCH TOO MUCH!
>Stow it brain, I do what I want.
>”Thank you AJ.” and away you go.

>Still dusting off after being drug around.
>You probably have a massive bump or at least bleeding. Great.
>Who do you even go to?
>About Scootaloo, not the bump.
>Well... who would know the most? Probably the Mayor herself.
>Yup off to town hall. She seemed pretty approachable. Let you get your own land deed, helped in building your house.
>Well not physically, but she happily made sure everything was signed.
>You brush yourself down one more time on the steps of city hall.
>Deeeeep breath.
>You enter the surprisingly modest government facility.
>You look around for a bit before you remember she doesn’t have a secretary.
>Just walking in it is then.
>The doors swing open wide and you put the biggest friendliest smile you can.
>”Miss Mayor, I’d like to file adoption paper work!”
>”Oh my,”
>Caught her off guard, heh advantage: Anon.
>”I’m sorry,” she says “but I don’t think I can allow that.”