Couples receive “parent points”, which they can use to purchase their children. Most parents wait for a few thousand, but you chose to buy the cheaper, 100 point child.
Shane knows what it’s like to be a 100 point child. He knows how it feels to see potential parents–potential families–come through the facilities doors, faces bright with excitement. He knows how it feels to see them reading the little plaques on the nursery doors, scanning the lists there for the right bits of knowledge and etiquette and grace that they want their baby to have.
He knows how it feels to see their faces pinch outside the window before they hurry to the next room.
Shane grew up in a 100 point nursery. They had torn, ratty, books and no teachers, and when snack time came, the tray was pushed through a slat in the door. They were called “unruly” and “damaged” and “stupid.” A lot of the other kids threw tantrums and broke furniture (and sometimes other kids). A lot of the other kids went quiet after the first few years when they realized they’d never be adopted until they were old enough (or pretty enough) to be useful. A lot of the kids cried and didn’t stop until they got taken away or were aged out.
Shane’s grown up a lot since aging out. He put himself through school, got himself a job, shed his 100 points like the torn clothes he’d left the facility in. He’s powerful now, successful, and he’s grown out of the twisted nose, big ears, and gap-toothed smile that had made him one of the less attractive 100 point babies. Or maybe he’s grown into them. Who’s to say?
It’s taken him a long time to get enough Parent Points to do what he wants. Being a man is, for once, somewhat hindering as most of society equates “parental” with “maternal.” He’s lost count of how many social workers have politely hid expressions of surprise when he told them he wanted to adopt stag, that he’s willing to take the classes, get the grades, make the oaths to get even one Parent Point.
Pete and Jane Carson were poor, so poor, and lived so far out away from town that they had trouble managing to earn many Parent Points. The points were awarded very strictly, and since their truck was…third-hand at least, well, they didn’t always make it everywhere exactly on time.
But they were so in love, and so enthusiastic about it, that as soon as they managed to reach that magical hundredth point, they practically ran to the Ward Building.
The lady took down their information and showed them all the brochures and read them all the disclaimers with a distinct air of disdain. It was obvious she thought no one had any business taking in any child worth less than a thousand points. Still, there was nothing to stop them from doing it–at least, nothing she could legally get away with–so she showed them to the hundred-point children.
It was agony making a choice. There were so many children there, and they were all so obviously in need of help. But one boy, the oldest and he was probably about seven, pointed them to a tiny child who’d been very sick lately and explained that the heat in the room didn’t work very well, and so when the little ones got sick, their tiny bodies sometimes couldn’t work hard enough to keep them warm and get them better. There was a look in his eyes that said sometimes there had been sick children who’d been eventually taken away and hadn’t been brought back.
So they took the sick child, whose name was Jakob, and gave him a home in their big, rickety farmhouse so far away from town, but they agreed. “That’s our next child.”
Tag: I love this
☠ for Kara and ☮ for Cat!
☠ for Kara
Kara blows her powers out and Alex wants to implement the usual protocol—lots of sunlamp time and lots of sister time, snuggled up watching Netflix. Normally, that’s what makes Kara feel okay when she blows out her powers; that’s what makes Kara feel okay even when she has her powers.
But this time she’s still so angry. She wants to keep fighting. She argues that she’s trained just as much as Alex has and gets matching incredulous looks from her sister and J’onn. Kara knows she’s wrong even if she doesn’t want to be—she’s trained as Supergirl, not as Kara. She’s no use without her powers.
Alex gets an agent to drive her home, and Kara calls Cat from the backseat.
“Come to my place,” Cat says after Kara has explained. Before Kara can protest, Cat continues, “I’m not going to let you go home to mope by yourself.”
Kara doesn’t even want to, but she knows Cat won’t take no for an answer. She shows up grumpy and it just gets worse; she drops a glass of water and accidentally slams the bathroom door because she’s not used to doing anything without adjusting based on her powers. Cat draws her a bath and makes her go to sleep early—makes it all more of a demand than any kind of TLC.
The next morning, Cat opens the curtains to wake her up. The sun feels vaguely warm, and Kara can’t hear anything outside of the room, and she’s already frustrated.
“Put on clothes you can work out in,” is all Cat says.
Kara doesn’t ask and Cat doesn’t offer details, not over breakfast, not while they’re in the car, not as she leads Kara into a warehouse that looks more like Alex’s scene than Cat’s.
It’s not an empty warehouse, though, it’s a business, and even after the employee explains to Kara how this is going to work, she still doesn’t quite understand.
“I’m just supposed to pick a weapon?” Kara asks.
“Mmhmm,” Cat says. “You can pick more than one—I have this place rented out for the entire day.”
“You think I’m going to spend the whole day breaking things for no reason?”
“Darling,” Cat says, and Kara knows from the tone in her voice that she’s trying hard not to roll her eyes. “You’re going to spend as long as you want to breaking things because you are frustrated and there’s nothing else for you to do. And then I’ll take you home and fuck you until you can’t walk.”
Kara swallows, glances around to make sure no employees are nearby.
Cat hands her a baseball bat. “Start with this. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
Kara does. She spends hours wrecking things—multiple TVs, a complete set of china, every type of kitchen appliance you can think of. She rips a couch apart with her bare hands, actually feeling how much her muscles strain as she does it. She’s already exhausted by the time Cat takes her home, and then Cat lives up to her promise to the point Kara all but passes out by the time they’re done.
She doesn’t know how long she sleeps, but when she wakes up, she can hear people having a conversation two floors away, and she smiles into her pillow.
The next time she loses her powers, Cat takes her back to the warehouse.
☮ for Cat
Kara really wishes Cat and Alex would be better friends. All they ever do is snark at each other. Kara doesn’t think it’s unreasonable to want her sister and her girlfriend to get along, but whenever she mentions it, she gets nothing more than an eye roll and an assurance it’s fine.
Alex gets hurt, not badly, but publicly. The street they’re fighting on is closed for construction, so there aren’t many people around, thankfully, but there are news crews too close for comfort. They’ve got a camera trained directly on Alex as she takes a shot to the side that knocks her off her feet. Kara finishes the fight soon thereafter, and they get Alex checked out as she complains that she’s fine while wincing every time someone touches her ribs. It’s a pretty regular post-fight situation, which is why Kara doesn’t understand when Cat rushes into the DEO, face pinched.
“How’s she doing?” Cat asks, worry in her voice that is usually reserved for Carter.
“How’s who doing?” Kara says.
Cat looks at her like she’s grown another arm. “Your sister? Who went down and didn’t get back up?”
Kara almost laughs, but the concern on Cat’s face is too serious. “She got back up,” Kara says. “She’s probably yelling at a doctor about how she shouldn’t have to take the rest of the day to rest and should be working instead.”
Cat’s shoulders relax, and it clicks in Kara’s head.
“You were worried about her? This much? You don’t even like her!”
Cat rolls her eyes and stalks off toward med bay. Kara watches her go, stuck in place by shock. Cat actually cares about Alex?
By the time Kara catches up, Cat is perched on a chair beside Alex’s bed and Alex is grinning.
“I can’t believe you were worried about me,” Alex says.
“Please,” Cat scoffs. “I simply didn’t want to deal with Kara moping if you’d been seriously injured. And aren’t you supposed to be a secret agent? I would think getting attacked on television isn’t the best strategy.”
Alex just laughs at her. Kara can’t help but beam.
Question of Smoke 