Djinn and Juice Boxes

Somewhere inside her, Santana had known this day would come. As soon as the twins were born, in fact, she'd known. Their oldest son, Tristan, had been born five years before them, with no magical powers despite his mother's genie blood. The twins, though… the moment they'd started crying in the tiny hospital room, both Rachel and Santana had known they were genies too.

And that's when Santana had started to worry. But the boy had been fine. He was always the laid back one in the family, and he didn't seem to mind that his younger brother and sister were…special.

Until now, that is.

"Jesus, you two!" Tristan said, diving for the vase an energy sphere had sent toppling. "Knock it off! You don't have to use your powers just because you have them. You're going to break something."

"You're just jealous because we have magic and you don't," Mariah snapped, sticking her tongue out at him.

"Yeah," Madrid agreed.

Rachel's head snapped up from where she'd been reading. Everything went suddenly still. Santana just watched Tristan.

The boy's face went blank, like someone had wiped his mental chalkboard clean. He set the vase down on the end table and left the room. It wasn't a storm out, and when he got to his room he didn't slam the door.

Santana stopped Rachel from following him. "No…. I think he…we should give him a second."

Rachel nodded, and then glared at the twins. "Get over here, you two."

The twins seemed to know how much trouble they were in, because they complied, sitting next to Rachel with heads bowed and not so much as a peep between them.

"I think…I'll let you handle this one," Santana said gently. "I'll go make sure he's okay."

Tristan's door was closed when she reached it, and she couldn't hear anything inside. That was odd… he was like Rachel. Whenever he was angry or upset, or lonely, he cranked up his music. She pushed the door open a crack and peeked inside. "Tris? Damn," she groaned, spotting the open window.

The tree house had started out as your standard wooden platform affair, but over the years it had grown into a fortress – complete with a slide into the pool. Santana hadn't been up there in years, but she dragged herself up the rickety ladder and eased her way inside the small door.

"Ummph…. Hey, Tris," she said, plopping down on the floor next to the fourteen-year-old.

"Hi," he mumbled.

"So…I think we should talk about this."

"Nothing to talk about."

Santana sighed. "Listen…I know it's hard for you sometimes. I get it. But you're just as impor—"

"Mom…seriously. You don't have to do that. I'm fine."

She decided to take another approach. "Have I ever told you about the week your aunt Quinn and I found out that your mom was a genie?"

His brow furrowed. "No…why?"

"Okay, get ready, because this is going to sound hella conceited," she said, causing her son to laugh. "That week, even though I found out your mom was so amazing and powerful, and literally magical? I found out I was even more powerful just as a human. You know about soul sources, right?"

"Yeah. Mom and Mariah and Madrid's lamps."

"Right…even though, in this case, they aren't lamps, but that's not the point. That weekend, your mother's soul source picked me to protect her. And that doesn't happen to just anyone. Most people, when they get chosen, start wishing for things right away—"

"That's why we never see Grandpa and Poppy anymore, right?"

Santana nodded. "That's right. Most people use genies as if they're slaves. But I didn't want to. I wanted your mom to be free to use her magic when she wanted, and not have to serve anyone. So I freed her. It was the scariest decision I ever made, but it was the right one." She sighed and scooted closer to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. "I'm telling you this because I know that sometimes it feels like…like we're not special enough to be in the same family…."

"Yeah."

"But we are. One day, you might be the person who's protecting a genie. It might even be your brother and sister. And you have to remember that you may not have powers like them, but it's still up to you to keep them safe. And you can. Magic isn't the only thing that can make a person strong – make them special. Just look at your uncle Kurt."

Tristan laughed. "Right."

"Let's go back in."

He nodded and launched himself down the bright blue slide.

Santana smiled, hearing the splash/