“No, you aren’t,” Max said firmly. “Einstein didn’t listen to other people over long periods of time. You lost your temper in the moment because you’ve had a shitty day.”
“No excrement was present.”
Max sighed. “You know that’s a human colloquialism. It means you had a horrible day.”
“Very, very, very horrible,” Rick agreed. “And I made the day for the guards very, very, very terrible.”
“You did,” Max agreed. He assumed the kids had already retreated into the house, so he pulled Rick toward the house. “But they came here angry and they were mean to Dee, so I am in favor of making their day very terrible.”
“But not very, very, very terrible.”
“They will recover. It’s not like you are their parent or that you are holding them here against their will. They had a bad day with a celebrity who ripped into them for interrupting his honeymoon. Most of them will blame Dee for dragging them out here.” Max thought that would cheer Rick up, but he drew his tentacles in even more.
“I damaged the reputation of an ally.”
“She doesn’t care,” Max said with confidence. “She is a black woman officer in the military. So many people hate her for existing that she has gotten over any need to please people.” Racism and sexism might have improved in the past few decades, but he had still heard more than one guy say shitty things in the locker room.
“I should not do damage to someone I respect.”
“You didn’t damage her,” Max promised. He pulled Rick into the house and to the second floor with the bedroom they had claimed for their own. Rick said nothing, issuing only untranslatable grunts and the occasional tightly coiled tentacle that would curl before snapping straight. In fact, Rick’s tentacles were so rigid that Max was surprised something didn't break.
“I should find Dee and offer compensation for libel,” Rick said as Max pulled him toward the lumpy bed. Rick’s tentacles straddled his legs, pinning Max to the mattress.
“She is okay.” Max ran his hand along Rick’s muscular arm tentacles. “We are okay... the family, I mean. All of us are okay.”
For a time, Rick held himself stiffly, his tentacles jerking. It was a stark contrast from the almost fluid motion that was normal for Hidden ones. Getting rid of Einstein was supposed to improve quality of life, but so far it had only made everything more difficult. Rick’s silence was more than a little concerning, and the lack of naughty touching when they were on a bed together was even more so.
“I regret....” Max stopped. He didn't know what he regretted. He regretted Einstein was dead, but he didn't regret that they were free from his manipulation. He regretted the pain evident in every twist of Rick’s tentacles, but he didn't regret protecting his husband. He regretted that Einstein had done something so abhorrent, but he didn't regret that Rick was here and alive. They fell into a cold silence, and Max tracing circles on the soft mantle above where the tentacles came out of Rick's trunk. He didn't know what other comforts to offer.
“I regret coming to planet,” Rick said softly. “Only I cannot regret because offspring deserve to know planet of people.”
“They do,” Max agreed, but he also wished they’d had a quiet visit without the therapy-inspiring shit show they’d stepped into.He wondered if there were trauma therapists for Hidden ones, because his children needed one. Hell, he needed one.
Rick’s tentacles tightened and he curled around Max's limbs, pushing him back onto the bed. Max wound his own arm around a thick tentacle and held Rick close. “Not-father died to preserve my ability to communicate with Hidden ones. I feel weight of obligation.” Misery dripped from Rick’s words.
Max pushed himself onto one elbow and stared into the white eye closest to him. “You’ll do whatever you want. It is your life, and you have no obligation to him. Yes, Einstein was trying to do the right thing in the end, but that’s after he held you captive, raised you to be a clone, and generally made your life miserable. You don’t owe him, and that includes owing him privacy. If you want to tell the kids or world or the whole damn universe about the trauma you suffered, then do it.”
“I think the whole damn universe would not care,” Rick said.
“Fuck ‘em. And if your people don’t accept you, we will go back into space.” Max wondered if they could pick up his parents and move to a deserted planet somewhere. They could make their own society, three humans–possibly four if his brother chose to come along–and however many Hidden ones he and Rick decided to give birth to. Theirs would be a small society, but loving and accepting and not emotionally manipulating each other with suicides.
“Truth would shame offspring as well,” Rick said.
“Aren't you the one that is always telling me that our offspring are adults who can sort things out for themselves?”
Rick blew a raspberry at him. “Offspring can sort problems offspring make for own offspring. Offspring will not suffer for problems made by father and father's not father.”
That almost made sense. “Okay, then we keep this secret to ourselves.” Max was more comfortable with that. He might not have the same visceral shame or horror at Einstein's acts, but hecould see the impact on them. Maybe it was the need for therapy talking, but keeping this secret seemed like an awesome idea. “What do you want to do?”
“I desire doing only what is necessary and postponing any thought of long-term plans.”
“Then that is what we are going to do,” Max said. “The house is unlocked, so we can walk along the beach or explore the closest town. You can show me all the parts of your world that are not visible from the windows.”
“Dee requires transportation home. I only delayed travel to earth because travel for children was higher priority,” Rick objected.
“Then we take Dee home and come back and take a long vacation at the seaside.” Max might appreciate the house now that he wasn't locked in it. Objectively, it was a beautiful house, and it had a gorgeous view of the stormy seas. If there were an alien house rental market, this house would make a killing.
“If we return Dee, we must handle your obligations of humanness.”
