The Curran Sea

Bracing

"How do you think they're doing?" Liam asked Judah, when the Smith kids had gone to bed. They'd put them up in Judah's living room, on some air mattresses they'd meant to test, and never got around to.
   Judah paced Ibrahim's living room; had been, since before Liam asked.
   "Not like we can check on them, is it? Gotta be a very specific pressure down there, and any visitation would break atmo."
   Liam barked at Hal for information. Since they were no longer compromised, it floated down to a comfortable conversation level.
   "He is tentatively stable."
   "You do realize that's an oxymoron, right?" Judah growled. He never growled, but today had been... a lot.
   "As long as he has contact with Doctor Curran's skin, he does well. Diaper changes are... dicey, at best. He has discovered that a hand will do as well as his chest, for short bursts."
   Judah found that his tear ducts were very much operational. Even Liam found one or two.
   "We haven't had to send bottles down," Judah said. "Does that mean his mods still work?"
   "Correct. It is fortunate, given the requirement of skin contact."
   Liam dropped to the couch, and scrubbed his face. "I'd help, if I could, but..."
   "Me, too."
   "Me three," Alfie said, coming out of the bathroom. "So would the twins, and Jonah. Since we can't, I guess it's a good thing he's with the most experienced dad on the isles, isn't it?"
   They had no real choice but to agree. Pierre and Edison would have taken no offense that Alfred didn't count them among those who would offer to help little Emmett. They really couldn't say how they would. Granted, Pierre had helped raise Andrew and Aiden, but he'd had Liam to show him the way.
   "Oh, and the kids know about the youngest twins," Judah said. Ed had gone to bed, since he had no stake in this particular situation. Even so, he was vague. One never knew what was heard, in this house.
   The twins in question were also in bed, on Li Am. They were only fifteen, with a strict bedtime. Pierre had gone with them, to enforce it. He had little stake in this fight, and no wish to remind anyone that he used to be affiliated with those who, albeit inadvertently, caused big Emmett's death.
   "Lovely. Did she actually keep our secrets, or what?" Liam growled.
   "She kept our location secret, right up to the end," Alfred retorted.
   "To be fair, they were toddlers, who would've asked why he... looked that way." Judah tried to remain vague, just in case. "They saw the guy a couple days a week. Bound to be questions." Since Liam had taken credit for what Edison had unwillingly done, and he'd lived with them, anything Ed overheard could be understood as Liam's state of being.
   The whole pollination thing never sat well with him, in his rigid gender roles. Far easier to take, when it wasn't his body that had been, in his eyes, violated. With his slender build, he struggled to feel masculine; particularly when he was surrounded by burly Currans. Even with Cora and Andrew, and Liam's second form, they were outnumbered. It was nearly a two to one ratio, and it just wasn't fair.
   "Doctor Curran recommends sleep. 'Or as much rest as you can manage'." It was odd, hearing that distinct voice, through Hal's vocal processors. All the same, they bowed to his request. Fretting all night wouldn't solve anything. Nor would waking exhausted tomorrow. If that logic was supplied by Alfie, well, they'd gotten used to his wisdom over the years.
   Liam went home to his husband, and adopted twin son... grandsons... The math never worked out right, so he just called them his sons, and left it there.
   Judah went home to his son, and the Smith children in his living room. He wouldn't mind the increased activity, if he was honest. Sometimes, it was too quiet, with just one other person in the house.
   Alfred went upstairs, to the bedroom next to Ed's. Cora and Cara were already in bed. He looked in on them, to be sure they were asleep; or, at least, trying to.
   He abruptly changed direction, then, to his father's bedroom. He missed Ibrahim so much, he decided to sleep in his bed; like they used to do, when he was scared. Sure, he had Judah, but it just wasn't the same.
   The dim room was lit by a single hover lamp, made by Ibrahim so long ago. Matching ones adorned the other two clones' bedrooms. His eye drifted up to the two large prints, from that Winterfest long ago. One celestial, the other cellular.
   "As above, so below."
   His father said that. So did Judah. He didn't quite understand it, but those two framed images gave him an inkling.
   Every stick of furniture had been carved with his Papa's hands. The mattress had been one of the lab's inventions. The sheets, hand-crafted by his Puppa. One of Alfie's early carvings sat on his dresser, next to a neatly carved, sanded, and painted wooden dragon.
   He climbed into the big bed, feeling as small as he had, then. He faced the window, so the ocean breeze could stir the air. The room had lain dormant, far too long. The sound of the waves lulled him to sleep, quite against his will. That was part of the reason he'd chosen this room, though. His bunk bed, over the desk, was too high to catch any breezes; the waves too far removed from his pillow.
   But his Papa had the best room in the house. He'd earned it.