Chapter Text
Terry juggled a tray of drinks in one hand and the Pupa in his other, teetering forward so he could unlock the front door to the home without spilling anything. Both arms were lined with plastic bags weighing heavily with snack foods, and it was difficult to keep his precarious balance when the Pupa refused to stay still, trying desperately to wriggle away from Terry’s grasp.
Terry never considered himself a very good Pupa Specialist, but he at least got along with the creature well enough to enjoy his company. Lately, that proved difficult as the Pupa had developed an uncharacteristic penchant for throwing temper tantrums, fussing at the smallest provocation. Terry felt his patience running thin after every outburst and nothing he offered to soothe him seemed to work. Earlier the Pupa had a meltdown when Terry tried to place him in his infant carrier, so he was forced to carry the writhing creature under his arm. It was the last baby item that the Pupa was able to squeeze into after outgrowing his many seats and high chairs, which also made him significantly heavier to hold.
The Pupa let out grunts as he struggled against Terry, trying hard to free himself.
“Ugh, hold on, Pupa, you’re gonna make me drop everything!”
Terry managed to shove the key into the lock, successfully opening the door before spilling the contents of the tray onto the carpet. He sighed, placing the Pupa on the ground before salvaging what was left of his cup, loudly sipping on the remnants of his Slurpee.
Pupa was still sulking, his small face furrowed and sour. Terry dug through the 7-Eleven bags, hoping to cheer his buddy up.
“You wanna share some snacks with me?” He held up a bag of hot chips in a way he hoped was enticing, smiling fondly. “I also got some cool ranch Skittles, but you can’t tell Korvo.”
The Pupa shook his head, displeased.
“Aw, c’mon Pupes,” he pleaded, squatting down so that he was closer to eye level. “I know you like candy. I can pretend it’s a rocket ship?”
He moved the package like a space shuttle, making juvenile whooshing noises in an attempt to make the Pupa smile, but it only seemed to upset him further.
“Not a baby!” Pupa insisted.
Terry frowned. “Well, you are getting too big for this.” He reached around, unclasping the baby carrier from his back before tossing the harness on the floor. “What’s got you upset, little man?”
The Pupa pouted and crossed his arms. Terry tried again. “Do you want something? A bath? Food? A nap?”
When he received no answer he stood up and sighed, drained by the lack of cooperation. He turned on the television and splayed out on the couch, picking a random show he hoped Pupa would enjoy. The bright colors on screen drew the small creature’s attention and he watched, enraptured by the program. When the scene changed he brightened, beaming at Terry.
“Sister!” the Pupa chirped.
Terry smiled back. “Oh, you want Jesse? She’s at school right now, bud.”
“No.” The Pupa shook his head before pointing at an infant on the television. “Baby sister.”
Terry blinked, confused. Pulling his phone out, the Pupa leafed through several tabs open on his web browser: the first, a how-to guide on creating a plant nursery at home. The older alien’s face stayed neutral, not comprehending the implications of the post.
The second tab was a Mommy advice website with an article centered on introducing new siblings into your family. Terry furrowed his brows, trying hard to understand.
Frustrated, the Pupa opened the last tab, which was a Google search of Tia and Tamera Mowry.
Terry’s eyes widened.
“Sister! Sister!” The Pupa emphasized with glee.
“Oh, um... geez, Pupa,” Terry scratched his head, frowning at the screen. “I’m not really sure if that’s something I can help you with.”
For the first time that day the Pupa was no longer grumpy, but instead drooped sadly, completely dejected. The pitiful sight tugged at Terry’s heartstrings. He hated being the bad guy.
Terry apprehensively stepped into the laundry room. Korvo was crouched in front of the washer dryer set, tightening the loose drum. He was deep in concentration, occasionally sticking his head inside the machine to check if it was able to spin. Terry propped himself against the doorway in an attempt to seem nonchalant, nearly tripping over his feet before nervously readjusting and leaning over again.
“Hey there, boo thang. What’s up with you? You fixin’ stuff?” he asked, hoping his tone was casual.
“What is it, Terry? I’m busy.”
He took a deep breath, mentally preparing to rip off the band aid. “How would you feel about having more replicants?”
Korvo hit his head against the inside of the machine. “Fuck — ow!”
“It wasn’t my idea! It was the Pupa’s!” Terry explained nervously.
Korvo turned to him, sitting on his knees while rubbing the back of his head. “Pupa said that?”
Terry folded his arms. “I don’t get it either. He was acting pissy all day and this is why? He’s got everything he needs already!”
Korvo frowned. “Maybe he just wants someone to play with.”
“Oh come on, I always spend time with him! He loves being strapped to my chest while I browse through shopping aisles!”
“Don’t tell me you’ve been putting him in that carrier again! I told you, he doesn’t fit anymore!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Terry waved him off. “That’s not the point, Korvo. What am I supposed to say to him? I don’t wanna crush his feelings.”
The team leader scoffed inwardly. “Yesterday he wanted a horse after watching My Little Pony. Does that mean we drop everything and get one for him?”
Terry began to sweat, not wanting to admit that he stayed up late the previous night replying to several ads on Craigslist from people who claimed to be selling ‘horse stuff’. He quickly changed the subject. “I’m just surprised he would want a baby in the house. He’s still a little guy! When we watch the Simpsons does he not see himself as Maggie? Because that’s who he is!”
“Oh, absolutely, Pupa is the Maggie of the family,” Korvo nodded sagely. “And you’re Homer because you’re not smart and I’m Marge because she’s blue.”
“Um, I was thinking you were Homer because you’re chubby and I’m Marge because I’m sexy.”
“Are you saying I’m not hot enough to be Marge Simpson?” He narrowed his eyes.
“Well, no, but your sex appeal is more like the clownfish DILF from Finding Nemo.” Terry sat on top of the washing machine, much to Korvo’s annoyance. “But we’re both in agreement, right? No more replicants? Maybe we could get a cat or a hamster or something.”
Korvo stayed silent for a moment, considering his words. “Terry, does it ever bother you that you never got to witness Jesse growing up?”
Terry frowned, the unexpectedness of the question prompting him to drop his blasé attitude. “Oh, wow. Um, kinda heavy, Korv.” Thinking it over, Terry shrugged sadly. “Honestly, sometimes? I don’t think I would have been a good influence either way, so maybe in the end that works out.”
Korvo put down his tools, looking at Terry seriously. “But you never got the choice. None of us did; that’s just how it was on Shlorp. It wasn’t meant to be an option.”
Terry blinked, surprised that his partner had admitted there was a quality he disliked about their home planet. Sensing Terry’s thoughts, Korvo quickly tried to justify himself. “It’s – it’s not a big deal, and logically I know why it had to be that way. I didn’t care when we were on Shlorp, but…”
“But now that you know what you missed out on, it sucks?” Terry finished for him.
Korvo furrowed his brows. “We only met them as part of the evacuation plan. Without the asteroid, would we have met them at all? Or, if we did, how brief would that be? What would life have been like if we knew them from the start?”
That was a line of thinking Terry tried not to consider because it made his chest hurt, but he felt safe in the enclosure of the room to explore those thoughts with Korvo. On Shlorp, Terry never cared that he had a replicant (raising one would have conflicted with his underground competitive yo-yo tournaments), and even when they first arrived on Earth he found the replicants to be a bit of a nuisance, but years of being surrounded by humans who had “moms” and “dads” made him feel as though being part of a family was a facet of life he missed out on.
He contemplated what it would have been like to meet Jesse as a sproutling. She was probably really cute, equally as silly and sweet. Maybe she was similar to babies on Earth, clingy and energetic, with chubby pinchable cheeks. While Terry loved the Pupa, for a moment he allowed himself to imagine carrying a replicant around in a sling, one that looked like a tiny version of himself. A familiar twinge flickered in his chest, reminding him why he mentally steered from this topic.
He hadn’t realized his partner felt similarly as Korvo seemed somewhat detached from his replicant, but often times Yumyulack acted like a mirror to his progenitor, reacting to things in the exact manner Korvo did. Did the team leader notice that and feel heavy hearted? Maybe, Terry reasoned, that was why he kept himself at an emotional distance from Yumyulack.
Terry smiled sadly at his partner. “I didn’t know you were so touchy-feely, Korv.”
“I’m not,” he denied. “The whole family unit is just a stupid Earth thing, so it’s weird that I feel this way.”
Terry sighed. “Yeah, I know. But still, I mean… another replicant?”
“It would be a lot,” Korvo admitted. “Even just the effort to plant them.”
“Plus we’ve kinda got our hands full as it is,” Terry continued. “The Pupa, catching up on Love Island, our group yoga sessions…”
Korvo fidgeted with his hands for a moment before nodding.
“You’re right,” The team leader announced with finality. “It’s not a good idea. There wouldn’t be a reason for it. We can put down roots on Earth without altering our family structure.”
The green alien frowned, not liking that it sounded as though his partner was trying to convince himself. He thought again about baby Jesse, smiling at him sweetly.
“…But it wouldn’t hurt to have one more.” Terry found himself suggesting.
Korvo kept his face neutral but his eyes lit up. “You think so?”
“I mean, worst case scenario Pupa terraforms the whole planet, right? So why not?”
“It would be nice to have more Shlorpians,” Korvo mused. “We’d have to ask the replicants about it.”
Terry blinked. “Wait, so you actually want to do this?”
“I mean,” he shuffled awkwardly. “We can think more about it, but… if you would want to raise a sproutling with me – er, us, as a family… and the replicants were on board, it could be… nice.”
They both smiled softly at each other, a warm feeling glowing between them.
“Okay. Sure, Korvy. Let’s see what they think.”
“Absolutely not.”
The replicants sat on the couch with wildly different expressions on their faces. Jesse was swinging her legs excitedly, grinning with glee. Her brother, however, was less than enthused, disapproval and disgust apparent in his tone.
“We haven’t decided on it yet,” Korvo explained. “It’s just something to consider. We wanted you guys to think it over.”
Yumyulack scrunched his face. “There’s nothing to think about. I don’t like sproutlings! They’re loud and annoying. Besides, don’t we already have the Pupa?”
“The Pupa is a part of our family, but we’re not the same species. Raising a replicant and taking care of a Pupa would be completely different tasks.”
“Yeah, the difference being that the Pupa is so much better. He’s not completely defenseless and he only sometimes takes a dump on the carpet.”
“Well I think it’s a great idea,” Jesse chimed happily. “I have so much I could teach a sproutling! For example: if you want to be fashionable, orange and green do not go well together.”
Terry’s eyes widened, clutching the hem of his orange T-Shirt with the print Gas, Grass, & Ass. “They don’t?”
“Do you really want another kid in the house?” Yumyulack interrupted. “That isn’t exactly part of the mission.”
“Oh, bullshit,” Korvo crossed his arms. “There’s no reason we can’t do both. And if you cared so much about the mission you would have helped me out with ship repairs!”
Yumyulack mirrored the older alien and scowled. “Fine, you got me. If there’s another replicant in the house, it messes up our whole dynamic! I don’t want a little kid cramping my style!"
“What style is that, Yumyulack? Dickless and bitchless?” Jesse teased.
Her brother narrowed his eyes at the insult, pointing a thumb towards Jesse. “See that toxicity? You want to expose a sproutling to that? We’re just not good role models, man. That replicant would be fucked.”
“Uh, speak for yourself,” Jesse retorted. “I would be an amazing older sister!”
“Of course you’re excited about this,” Yumyulack replied bitterly. “You always like things that suck.”
“Hey, not true! I love helping the elderly and voting in local elections.”
“Exactly!”
Yumyulack turned his attention back to the adults, frowning at the pair. “Where’s this coming from, anyways? Terry, I thought you said you didn’t want any more kids because – and I quote! – you’re ‘a wild stallion with an incorrigible need to fuck’.”
“I had to use it in a sentence! It was my word of the day!” Terry explained defensively. “Plus, I changed my mind when I realized new parents have hot nasty sex all the time. I mean, why else would they always be so tired?”
Yumyulack crossed his arms and huffed in annoyance before looking down at the floor. The Pupa was tugging on the cuff of Yumyulack’s pants to prompt his attention. The small creature held up a piece of paper, which the alien accepted and looked over. It was a drawing made by the Pupa, a highly detailed artistic depiction of their household, with staging and composition similar to an Italian Baroque painting. In the center was a baby sitting in a pot of soil, holding hands with the Pupa. The caption was written crudely with childish print: “mY FAMbiLY + BaBY”
Yumyulack squinted, clearly not pleased. “You’re the one who put them up to this? You traitor.”
“Aww!” Jesse cooed. “Pupa, this is amazing!”
Terry looked over their shoulders. “Is that the Cocomelon baby?”
“You guys suck!” Yumyulack stood up, shoving the picture to the ground before raising his hands in exasperation. “Fine, have a stupid kid. I’m not going to be helping with anything though. And – and I’m going to ignore it so badly it will develop a complex and start making culturally insensitive video essays on Youtube for attention!”
He stormed off, leaving the other aliens sitting in silence. Jesse turned to her caretakers. “Just so you know, that’s the closest you’re gonna get to a yes.”
Despite anticipating Yumyulack’s outburst, his reaction to the conversation made the reality of what Korvo was suggesting set in. This wasn’t just a wacky experiment he could abandon on a whim, but a living, breathing being who would be completely dependent on the care of others.
The truth was, he was terrified at the prospect of making another replicant because so much could go wrong. Internally Korvo made a pros and cons list, meticulously weighing any and every possible scenario, but realized he was too cynical to keep it balanced, the negatives greatly outnumbering the positives. Fuck, what was he thinking, agreeing to this with Terry? Terry probably only said yes because he felt bad for Korvo. For his sake, Korvo should just pretend like he didn’t want it anymore and let his partner go back to his carefree lifestyle.
Sproutlings were not so different than human infants, so he begrudgingly Googled human guides on child rearing and infant development. He hoped that understanding how life on Earth developed would reassure him of this decision, but it instead gave him new things to worry about. Infants were incredibly weak, powerless creatures, and while he was well versed in botany and biology he didn’t have any personal experiences with young sprouts.
He spent the next few days painstakingly agonizing over it until eventually the anxiety was too much, leaving him wide awake in bed at night and on the verge of gooblering. He tried to keep it to himself but the inner turmoil was too much and he spoke up, hoping his partner was still awake.
“Terry, we might be in over our heads. I’m – I’m not sure having another replicant is such a good idea anymore.”
“Awww, Korvo, don’t stress out so much about it. It’ll be easy,” Terry yawned.
“It would most certainly not be easy,” he huffed.
Terry cuddled up next to him, holding his grumpy partner tight. “We don’t have to do it if you changed your mind.”
“I-I didn’t,” he admitted. “I’m just worried about everything that could go wrong.”
“Whatever happens, we can just sci-fi out of it, right? You can make a cyborg nanny or a mecha suit the replicant could go to school in. Plus, if it all went horribly wrong don’t you think you would have time traveled to tell yourself not to do it?”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“Sure it is, babe.
“But –”
“Shh, shh, shh,” Terry patted his head lovingly. “Eeeeverything will be okay, baby boy. My love bug. My nutter butter.”
Normally Terry’s blind optimism and lax usage of pet names annoyed him, but he let himself be comforted by the other alien. It was hard to argue when the limitless potential of science provided a logical safety net to all of his worries. They lay together, bodies intertwined. For a few minutes Korvo didn’t say anything, soaking in the heat of Terry’s body.
“Okay. Fine. Let’s do it, then.”
He expected a response from his partner, but when he was met with silence he turned around, finding Terry fast asleep.