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Gemma's call had made Laney a little nervous. Heck, more than a little nervous -- it had basically freaked her out. No one asked Laney for advice, not unless they were drop dead desperate. No one ought to ask Laney for advice. Laney, as her parents had made very clear without quite saying so, was the last person who should be giving advice to anyone.

Generally, this was a position she agreed with. Her own life was anything but in order, and certainly not something to aspire to. She was twenty-one and a half with no accomplishments and no prospects.

The only people she gave advice to were Negaversers, and only because as far as she could tell, they were already in a drop dead desperate situation that couldn't get too much worse -- there wasn't much harm even an untrained nobody like Hvergelmir could do, surely.

But Gemma was just a sweet kid with her whole life ahead of her who deserved to have good prospects. Laney wished she had a better role model to turn to, one who didn't stand a chance of encouraging her to ******** up her whole future life. If the best she had was Laney, that was... that was pretty rough.

And it meant, like it or not, Laney had to swallow her dread and try her best.

She put on a smile when she approached -- but when she saw the flower crown, the smile turned from one of brave effort to momentary delight.

"Of course I was going to come. Oh, man, did you make this? That is so awesome -- you've got to teach me some time, I have got to make more of these!" So saying, she turned the flower crown to what appeared to be face-front and settled it cheerfully on her head, sitting down at the table across from Gemma. "I was glad you called," she followed up, because she decided this was what a responsible adult would maybe say. Like, for example, if Laney was Finn, doing his Finn thing. "We hadn't caught up in a while. How've you been, how can I help you out?"

Moving to Boston. That was a big decision.

"Well, that's a tough one." Laney took the beginnings of the new flower chain and turned it over in her hands, studying the way Gemma had done it. Simple, but clever -- she could probably reproduce it half-decently. "We'd sure miss you around here," she said with a faint smile. "Destiny City's kind of a ghost town lately -- lots of people moving on to better opportunities. Sad to lose another friendly face." Especially with the likelihood of people like Gemma getting caught in youma attacks or Negaverse operations. That was something she had to consider. "DC's crime rate's gotten pretty ugly these days -- I'm sure your parents are thinking you'd be safer in Boston."

Gemma was such a whimsical sweetheart of a girl. She didn't deserve the ugliness of this war. She deserved to smile and be her own person for as long as possible.

But -- she didn't sound like she wanted to go to Boston.

"What was your visit like? Did you have a fun time with your family? Do they get you?"

Laney couldn't help frowning. She'd wanted to keep up a cheerful, pleasant facade for Gemma's sake, but it was hard to in the face of a teenager saying her parents didn't like her very much, or that even during the Christmas holiday they'd been so fed up with their own child that they'd sent her away. Gemma needed positive influences, not -- people who punished her by isolating her like that. If she lived with them, where would they send her when she failed to measure up to their standards? What then?

It didn't seem ideal for Gemma. She needed good friends, like Tara and Finn, people who cheered her on even when she was at her worst. Especially when she was at her worst. She needed to be around the sorts of people who liked having her around. People who laughed at her jokes and saw the value in the things that were important to her.

"I don't know," Laney said as gently as she thought she could, "My parents sent me away to school once before, when they were fed up with me. I think they were happier that way. I still live with them, but it's complicated. But I don't..." She waved a hand in the air, searching for the right words. "I don't think it's good to live with people who don't like you. It'll just make you feel bad about yourself all the time. What's your mom like?"

Poor Gemma. No wonder she had so much trouble in life -- there was no place for her. Two parents that didn't love her, and one that couldn't care for her. It was depressing.

Laney kept working on her flower crown. "I think at your age, you usually get to choose -- unless your dad takes your mom to court and they rule her unfit or something. But I mean, not to push you in any particular direction, but I don't see why your parents want you to come live with them if they don't actually want to see you. That... that doesn't seem right to me. Did they ask if this was something you wanted?"

"You should go down to the -- the courthouse, I guess, and talk to someone about getting a lawyer for yourself. Legal Aid will get you one of your own, someone who'll work for free and represent your interests, not anyone else's. I'll go with you if you want -- you need a lawyer who'll advocate for you no matter what."

She had no idea how one went about doing these things -- but Laney was a legal adult, more people would pay attention to her, probably. And in the past few months she'd learned she was actually way more capable of brazenly asking strangers to do things for her than she ever thought she was.

What Gemma said next caught her completely off-guard, though -- and not just because the questions were absurd. I've had like seven people tell me they bet I'll have a baby before I'm twenty.

Laney's expression was sour. "Whoever said those things to you were horrible little bridge-trolls who just wanted to make you feel bad about yourself so they can put themselves above you. Don't ever listen to people like that. They don't love you and they don't deserve you." She reached out to tuck a dandelion behind Gemma's ear. "You can't get pregnant if you don't have sex, sweetie, I promise. And if you stay away from meth, you won't become an addict. Teen pregnancy and drug addiction are painful, incredible obstacles for a young person to face, and anyone who thinks they're worthy of jokes or derision is a rude sleazebucket."

"Yeah," Laney said quietly. "It kind of does."

She felt bad giving someone that kind of a verdict on their own stepparent, because family could be -- complicated. It was hard to stop loving them sometimes, even when they didn't love you. It was hard to stop hoping someday they'd love you back. And sometimes it didn't even matter whether they did or not. They were your family: sometimes that was enough of a reason to be stuck there.

But Gemma's life was hard enough. This was the last thing she needed.

"People like that are just bullying you. Like, Roald Dahl-style bullies, like in Mathilda or The Witches, if you've ever read those. Don't even listen to it. Does your mom ever say stuff like that to you?"

Laney was a little slower on her flower chain, so when she finished it off, it was a lot smaller than Gemma's. A daisy bracelet, maybe.

"Any time. Don't worry, okay? You don't want to go to stinky Boston, so we're going to find a lawyer to help us, and we're going to keep you here where people love you. Alright? Friends stick together."

She reached out to loop the flower bracelet around Gemma's wrist, then squeezed the schoolgirl's fingers between her own.

"I'll call the courthouse and see if I can get us an appointment. I'll call you in the next few days -- if you don't hear from me, or you need anything, you can call me too, alright?"