The Curran Sea

Big Talks

Orla visited the three remaining Smith children, in their dreams. Of Nina, she said that the girl was firmly anchored in the world around her.
   "Even Halcyon would struggle to make her budge," she said with a smile.
   Nero would falter, without his technology. "He thinks that he wants this life, but what he really wants is freedom from their grandparents, and sister."
   When she had visited the last of the triplets, she fell back into her husband's arms with a sigh. "It would seem that their siblings know them best."
   He held her loosely, chafing her arms. "So, they wouldn't be happy living here. Would they keep our secrets, do you think?"
   She thought, for a time. "The boys would, yes. I do not see how you would bring them here, for a break from their perceived oppression, but they would enjoy the respite."
   Liam was the one who pointed out that they still had the disguise earrings. He was fading to sleep, Doctor Curran's orders, but he was still a scientist, and puzzles intrigued him. Especially if there was intrigue involved.
   "How would we keep Nina from coming with them?"
   She yawned. "We can ask their siblings in the morning. Do you wish me to doze lightly, in case one of the babes needs... something?"
   He smiled, kissed her forehead. "No, don't worry about it. I will teach you, in time, but for now, you need your rest."
   Her eyes leaked tears under their lids. He tensed up.
   "There's something I don't know, isn't there?"
   She turned and burrowed into his chest. He rubbed her back, pled with her to confide in him. It was many minutes before she could speak.
   "I may only stay as long as it takes."
   The pit of his stomach dropped around his ankles. "Takes to do... what I think, or something else?"
   Her thin body shook once. He held her away, by her shoulders. "Are you saying that he only lets you come to me when you aren't carrying my children?"
   She nodded jerkily, openly weeping. "Until they are born, and we know where the babe... goes..."
   "And what, my dear, is to stop me from using preventive measures?" he asked, voice gone to the depths.
   Her smile was wobbly. "Would that you had thought to do so, earlier."
   His hands clamped down on her arms reflexively. He released her, with many apologetic kisses. She clung to him like seaweed, while he vowed never to sleep with his wife unshielded again, for as long as they lived.
   Time would tell, whether or not it was already too late.

   Ibrahim was about to drift to sleep, himself, when Alfie called. 
   He grumbled a vague greeting. Even healthy premature infants needed much care, and he'd only just gotten Emmett in the realm of that possibility.
   "I hate to bug you, but... You said to tell you when I started having... those thoughts. This is me telling you. What... what do I do?"
   His low laughter rolled around the rounded top of the dome, prone as he was. "I had planned to suggest that you use protection, but if it is these mer who tempt you, that may be contrary to their purpose."
   Alfred visibly swallowed. "Okay... So, uh... how does it... work? I couldn't exactly 'walk in on' anybody but Liam and Pop Pop, growing up, and I don't think that would've helped."
   He choked on his own saliva. He hadn't realized, consciously, that Alfie had lost the only female parental figure in his life, when they left Kitty behind.
   "Do you wish anatomy only, or..." He struggled to say "pointers?"
   His son gulped. "Let's start with where... um... that part goes. If... If I don't chicken out, maybe we can get to uh... practical advice."
   He sat up, holding Emmett reflexively. "Any of my advice would be practical, but I take your meaning." He had to work up to the birds and bees Talk, and there were many cold, clinical terms, to get them through it, but through it, they got.
   It was... considerably more difficult to give any sort of tips, or tricks, but, as Alfred pointed out, any mer would expect much of Ibrahim Curran's son. Some of Liam's banter with Pierre began to make sense, as they talked, and they even managed to relax; forget who was on the other end of the line. Both stared at the ceiling, or dome, respectively.
   "You can do that?" he asked sometimes.
   "Wait, can you show me? Not for real, but, like, if your hand's your legs? I don't quite get what you're saying. Ohh! I was picturing something different."
   In a way, being in different rooms made The Talk easier. There was no pressure to maintain eye contact. They could sit, or lay, wherever they were comfortable. It was a bit difficult to have a conversation with someone on the top bunk over a desk, even with projector screens, but far easier than it would have been, in person.
   Ibrahim fell asleep first. His son looked at the screen when the first snuffle drifted out of his bracer, and he smiled. The urge to go down and tuck his father in was fleeting, yet strong. Since he would need his rest for tomorrow, he asked Hal to do it. One broad shoulder was exposed, and one tiny one. Luckily, Hal knew not to cover the baby's face, so he was able to drift off to sleep, dry, and safe in his bed.
   When the mer girl swam into his dreams, he decided to test some of his father's advice.