Earthbound: "Five Awkward Conversations" by eiviiaru
Title: Five Awkward Conversations
Author: eiviiaru
Fandom: Earthbound
Pairing/characters: Jeff Andonuts/Tony, OIntersexC
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Earthbound and its assorted charaters belong to Shigesato Itoi, Nintendo, and the rest of their team.
Prompt: 5. Any fandom. Raising an intersex child.
Summary: Jeff can overthink anything, given a chance, and his firstborn's childhood give him lots of chances.
Author's Notes: Another one down to the wire! Anyway... as a heterosexual woman writing about issues I've never experienced, I sincerely apologize for any mistakes or gaps of knowledge in this story. Many thanks to kaizoku for posting links to trans/intersexual info in the beta post; the sites linked were useful beyond imagining.
I
"It's things like this," said Jeff, "that make me think we should have just adopted."
One touch to the control panel, and the Sky Runner was on autopilot, letting Jeff return his attention to his husband in the passenger seat. Tony was still paging through the sheath of test reports, only belatedly looking up. "I don't think it's that bad, honey, really -- I mean..."
"But it's my dad again. This is always how it goes, isn't it? He has some fantastic new prototype, and we're always the guinea pigs, and something goes wrong. I should have known after the Auto-Toaster, but then just as we're thinking about all the adoption red tape, here he comes with the Natatron and I'm the simp again."
Tony set down the test results, looking over to meet Jeff's eyes. "Sweetie... I know he's burnt you before, but I think it isn't as bad as all that. I really do. The baby's perfectly healthy, after all, even with... things as they are."
"And things as they are mean uncharted territory," said Jeff. "Media attention. We're going to have to give interviews, and the baby's never going to live it down. Bad enough to be our kid in the first place, let alone another proud Andonuts Labs half-success --"
"-- oh, just stop, Jeff. Just... just stop, okay? I knew what I was getting into when I married you, and it's not like we owe those reporters anything. Why do they have to know?"
Jeff had to think about that. "Well... it'll have to come up when Dad publishes, won't it?"
"So let him figure out how to word it. We're going to spend the next few months getting ready for the baby, and that's that. Don't you dare throw a pity party the whole time."
"Okay," said Jeff, hollowly, just to end the conversation. He glanced through the window, watching the ocean below them, bright blue-green and placid in the midday sun. What hurt, he decided, was that Tony was right. After so much mental preparation for the reality of having a child, why should things go to pieces because of one developmental oddity? And yet...
His reverie was broken by Tony's voice and the touch of a hand on his shoulder. "... it's going to be okay, I swear. You're not going to be your dad. You could never be."
"You're sure?"
"Positive."
Yes, that was why Jeff had fallen in love, wasn't it? That faith in him, even when he probably didn't deserve it.. "Got it, and -- thanks, love. So. Do you want a boy or a girl?"
II
"Robin, what are you doing?"
Jeff leaned against the doorframe, surveying the chaos on the floor of his study. His collection of old biology textbooks were arrayed in a haphazard circle, open, the line broken where the most interesting ones had been pulled closer -- and at the center, of course, was Robin, staring at him with the befuddled terror of a child who had thought a plan was foolproof. "Papa? I'm sorry -- I'll put the books up --"
"It's okay, kiddo," said Jeff, taking a seat on the floor just outside his five-year-old's book fort. "What were you looking for?"
"Pictures," replied Robin, after a long and serious pause. "Of... boys. And girls. And..."
Oh, dear. Somehow, Jeff had known that this was going to happen. Certainly, the discussion of private parts had gone well enough, but his son was an Andonuts, and he'd come by his restless curiosity honestly. "Okay," he said to the small, desperately anxious face in front of him. "What do you want to know?"
"... how much like a girl can you be and still be a boy?" Robin's voice was very small, eyes darting away back towards the books; Jeff couldn't tell if it was distraction or embarrassment. "How do you tell?"
It was, Jeff had to admit, a very good question.
"Well," he said, "it's not really something science can tell. Remember how we talked about how everyone grows differently? It's what makes things difficult; everyone's somewhere between, but the way the world works is that you sort people into two piles. It's just a decision people have to make for themselves, but since it came up when you were a baby, Daddy and I had to make it for you."
Robin nodded, a stray strand of auburn hair falling across his face. "... how did you and Daddy decide?" God, when had he gotten so good at asking tough questions? Was it all that kindergarten critical-thinking training?
Jeff couldn't exactly tell him the truth: that it had, in large part, been a decision of convenience. It had been a blessing to never have to worry about taking Robin into public restrooms or finding appropriate clothes -- to be able to dig into the core of knowledge he and Tony had about being boys. He swore it hadn't seemed quite so selfish at the time.
"... it's hard to say, Robin," he admitted. "We looked at the tests, and we looked at you, and we decided it was just the best thing to do. The important thing is that we love you just as you are, okay?"
"Okay," said Robin, smiling faintly and standing up at last. "... Papa, will you help me clean up the books?"
"Of course, kiddo. Of course."
III
"So, how was the last day of school?"
A moment after he'd said it, Jeff realized what a stupid question it had been. The sky above Robin's elementary school was a dull gray, and while the rain had let up, the damp chill of the wind cut through his overcoat. Maybe it would have been an acceptable day in early March, but for late May it was inexcusable.
"Dismal," said Robin, throwing his backpack into the back seat before climbing in the front. "We had to have the Sixth-Grade Picnic in the gym, and we just watched a movie instead of having the softball game. Even had to have our picture in front of that stupid mural in the gym."
"Buckle your seatbelt, honey? -- I'm sorry to hear that. Was the movie fun, though?"
"It was that one from third grade about the stupid dead dog. I guess everyone else likes that one, but it's so -- I couldn't watch. I got a book from my desk."
"Oh." Jeff snuck a glance across the seat at Robin: buckled in securely, eyes closed and expression strangely troubled. "... I really am sorry. I know how much you were looking forward to softball..."
"... it's, um, it's not just... Papa, can I talk to you? It's important."
"You can always talk to me," replied Jeff, smiling in a way he hoped was encouraging. "What's on your mind?"
"I -- I, um... I think..."
"Yes?"
"I think I'm a girl."
"Oh," said Jeff, trying to keep down the flood of guilt: misassignment and terrible bullheaded mistake and complete parental failure. "Oh. Well, um... are you sure?"
"Pretty sure. It's hard to explain, but..."
"But you don't need to, okay? If you say you're a girl, Robin, you're a girl. I trust you." If anything, Jeff realized with a sinking sensation, he was the one who probably should be giving explanations and apologies. Maybe if they'd looked at the data more closely -- maybe if they'd checked brain structure, monitored exact levels of gonad function... maybe they wouldn't have mislabeled their child for twelve years. "... I'm just sorry," he said, "that we made a mistake."
"It's okay, Papa," said Robin, with all the sweetness he'd somehow inherited from Tony. "You didn't know."
"Well, now we're going to make it right. We'll get your records changed before you start school again, and we'll get you an appointment with Dr. Larssen. Do you, um, do you think you're going to want surgery or anything?"
"No, it's okay. I -- I'm okay with how I look down there. It's just -- you know."
"... got it," said Jeff. "Tell you what: I'll call Aunt Paula this afternoon and see if you wouldn't be able to go visit her and Uncle Ness for a while this summer. She'll spoil you rotten, and anything you need to know, she'll teach you. Then when you get back, we can go clothes-shopping, maybe?"
"That sounds fun," admitted Robin, almost shyly. "... and then -- that's all it takes?"
"Probably not, but we're behind you all the way," said Jeff to the child he was already mentally re-classifying as daughter. "I'll talk to your dad about this, too."
"... thanks, Papa. I don't know if I could say it twice."
"Give yourself time," said Jeff, with a confidence he wasn't sure he actually possessed. "Breathe. We'll all find our ways."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
IV
"Condoms. Five of them. In one desk drawer alone!"
"Five condoms in a college student's desk drawer? Well, you'd better call the paper." Tony rolled his eyes from across the little hotel room, lounging on the bed even as Jeff paced the floor. "Seriously, honey, what's got you so wound up about this?"
"I just don't trust the guy she's with," Jeff confessed. "This David guy. Everything she says about him and his Philosophy major and this entire 'transhumanism' thing. It just sounds... strange."
"No stranger than anything we tossed around as undergraduates, I'd say, and aren't these the years you're supposed to have weird ideas?"
"... it's just..." Jeff paused; he'd never had an easy time articulating fear, and that certainly wasn't going to change now. How could he explain the nameless dread in his chest when he thought of Robin and this new paramour? "... I worry about her being hurt."
"What? Because...?"
"... because... you know." Because it was hard not to assume the boy was a fetishist; because it was hard to imagine a 19-year-old with the sensitivity Robin needed. It had been bad enough watching her negotiate high-school dating, but even that hadn't come with the assurance of the subject being breached, as it were, that this new discovery did. Was David even now resenting her for it? Using her for it? Ignoring it?
Tony sat up, shaking his head and giving Jeff the sympathetic, 'oh you poor thing' smile he'd become so used to over the years. "Think about it this way," he began. "Robin's a smart girl, and she's got a good self-preservation instinct. If this boy were really treating her poorly, don't you think she'd tell us? Besides, those condoms are good -- it means they're being safe, and that's what's important."
"You're right. I'm sorry, I'm just -- it's not easy to let go, Tony. I know she's got to go her own way, and even make her own mistakes, but..."
"But it's a bit frightening looking at that empty nest, isn't it?" Tony smiled, then, sheepish and impish at once. "... you're a good mother hen, you know."
"I prefer to think of myself as just fussy. The fact that she's got my mitochondrial DNA and maternal imprint is just a terrible coincidence. -- Seriously, though, you think she's all right?"
"I'm certain of it. C'mon, stop pacing and come keep me company? This whole condom issue can wait until morning, if it has to go on at all."
Jeff had to admit he had a point. As much of a tradition as uncomfortable conversations about condoms might be -- God, he'd never forget that breakfast with Tony's parents! -- maybe it could die in this generation. Maybe this David was more than he gave him credit for. Maybe, he thought, as he draped his jacket on the chair and began unbuttoning his shirt, they could all relax for a change.
"Oh, good," said Tony from the bed. "It was about time you got undressed."
V
"So what did this Transhumanity Conference entail, precisely?"
"Oh, the usual conference stuff," said Robin, with a brightness in her voice that betrayed her even through the typically dire cell-phone reception. Jeff could almost see her grin. "Presentations, panels, some posters..."
"... and," Jeff added, "no doubt an extensive bar-hopping session or two." Almost certainly with the same set of hazy, pleasant memories as all those youthful xenoethology and paraphysics conferences, longer ago than he had any desire to consider. Whatever the discipline, the drinking habits of bright-eyed academic twentysomethings never changed. "Did you and David have a good time?"
"Definitely. Lots of great stuff there to ruminate about -- a real change from the day-to-day grind, you know? I needed a break from the market projections, and this was perfect. Wandering around, meeting people, serving on that panel..."
"Wait," said Jeff. "What panel?"
"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Of course she hadn't; she was his Robin, after all, going almost too fast for him to see. "When they heard that I was coming, they asked me to be on the Reproductive Tech panel. You know, to comment on the Natatron thing? And some commentary on reproductive tech and degradation of gender. Really intriguing stuff -- and you should have seen how many drinks people bought me afterwards!"
Jeff fell silent, trying desperately to come up with a response to that. After decades of fumbling for normalcy, here was his child's blithe buzzwords and disarming casualness. Had all that fear been wasted?
No, of course not -- this was how it was supposed to be. Children took your every concern and threw them back in your face with a smile; they were the reminder that the worst-case scenario hadn't arrived, that there was no need for a Plan B. They'd always tried to hide the story for Robin's sake, but it was her story, and if she was happy to tell it, why shouldn't she? Let her be what she would be. She was happy.
"Fantastic, sweetheart," he replied, letting himself feel it. "You'll have to tell us everything next time you're home."
"Funny you should say that," replied Robin. "I was thinking about coming home next weekend, if that's okay? David and I both have a three-day, and I brought you guys some journals. You have any plans?"
"Nothing we can't break," said Jeff, gazing out the window at the sun setting behind the trees. Sure, he'd have to find something interesting to cook, and Tony'd make a fuss about cleaning... but at the end of the day, it was a small cost for yet another reminder that their fledgling had found her wings.
Author: eiviiaru
Fandom: Earthbound
Pairing/characters: Jeff Andonuts/Tony, OIntersexC
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Earthbound and its assorted charaters belong to Shigesato Itoi, Nintendo, and the rest of their team.
Prompt: 5. Any fandom. Raising an intersex child.
Summary: Jeff can overthink anything, given a chance, and his firstborn's childhood give him lots of chances.
Author's Notes: Another one down to the wire! Anyway... as a heterosexual woman writing about issues I've never experienced, I sincerely apologize for any mistakes or gaps of knowledge in this story. Many thanks to kaizoku for posting links to trans/intersexual info in the beta post; the sites linked were useful beyond imagining.
I
"It's things like this," said Jeff, "that make me think we should have just adopted."
One touch to the control panel, and the Sky Runner was on autopilot, letting Jeff return his attention to his husband in the passenger seat. Tony was still paging through the sheath of test reports, only belatedly looking up. "I don't think it's that bad, honey, really -- I mean..."
"But it's my dad again. This is always how it goes, isn't it? He has some fantastic new prototype, and we're always the guinea pigs, and something goes wrong. I should have known after the Auto-Toaster, but then just as we're thinking about all the adoption red tape, here he comes with the Natatron and I'm the simp again."
Tony set down the test results, looking over to meet Jeff's eyes. "Sweetie... I know he's burnt you before, but I think it isn't as bad as all that. I really do. The baby's perfectly healthy, after all, even with... things as they are."
"And things as they are mean uncharted territory," said Jeff. "Media attention. We're going to have to give interviews, and the baby's never going to live it down. Bad enough to be our kid in the first place, let alone another proud Andonuts Labs half-success --"
"-- oh, just stop, Jeff. Just... just stop, okay? I knew what I was getting into when I married you, and it's not like we owe those reporters anything. Why do they have to know?"
Jeff had to think about that. "Well... it'll have to come up when Dad publishes, won't it?"
"So let him figure out how to word it. We're going to spend the next few months getting ready for the baby, and that's that. Don't you dare throw a pity party the whole time."
"Okay," said Jeff, hollowly, just to end the conversation. He glanced through the window, watching the ocean below them, bright blue-green and placid in the midday sun. What hurt, he decided, was that Tony was right. After so much mental preparation for the reality of having a child, why should things go to pieces because of one developmental oddity? And yet...
His reverie was broken by Tony's voice and the touch of a hand on his shoulder. "... it's going to be okay, I swear. You're not going to be your dad. You could never be."
"You're sure?"
"Positive."
Yes, that was why Jeff had fallen in love, wasn't it? That faith in him, even when he probably didn't deserve it.. "Got it, and -- thanks, love. So. Do you want a boy or a girl?"
II
"Robin, what are you doing?"
Jeff leaned against the doorframe, surveying the chaos on the floor of his study. His collection of old biology textbooks were arrayed in a haphazard circle, open, the line broken where the most interesting ones had been pulled closer -- and at the center, of course, was Robin, staring at him with the befuddled terror of a child who had thought a plan was foolproof. "Papa? I'm sorry -- I'll put the books up --"
"It's okay, kiddo," said Jeff, taking a seat on the floor just outside his five-year-old's book fort. "What were you looking for?"
"Pictures," replied Robin, after a long and serious pause. "Of... boys. And girls. And..."
Oh, dear. Somehow, Jeff had known that this was going to happen. Certainly, the discussion of private parts had gone well enough, but his son was an Andonuts, and he'd come by his restless curiosity honestly. "Okay," he said to the small, desperately anxious face in front of him. "What do you want to know?"
"... how much like a girl can you be and still be a boy?" Robin's voice was very small, eyes darting away back towards the books; Jeff couldn't tell if it was distraction or embarrassment. "How do you tell?"
It was, Jeff had to admit, a very good question.
"Well," he said, "it's not really something science can tell. Remember how we talked about how everyone grows differently? It's what makes things difficult; everyone's somewhere between, but the way the world works is that you sort people into two piles. It's just a decision people have to make for themselves, but since it came up when you were a baby, Daddy and I had to make it for you."
Robin nodded, a stray strand of auburn hair falling across his face. "... how did you and Daddy decide?" God, when had he gotten so good at asking tough questions? Was it all that kindergarten critical-thinking training?
Jeff couldn't exactly tell him the truth: that it had, in large part, been a decision of convenience. It had been a blessing to never have to worry about taking Robin into public restrooms or finding appropriate clothes -- to be able to dig into the core of knowledge he and Tony had about being boys. He swore it hadn't seemed quite so selfish at the time.
"... it's hard to say, Robin," he admitted. "We looked at the tests, and we looked at you, and we decided it was just the best thing to do. The important thing is that we love you just as you are, okay?"
"Okay," said Robin, smiling faintly and standing up at last. "... Papa, will you help me clean up the books?"
"Of course, kiddo. Of course."
III
"So, how was the last day of school?"
A moment after he'd said it, Jeff realized what a stupid question it had been. The sky above Robin's elementary school was a dull gray, and while the rain had let up, the damp chill of the wind cut through his overcoat. Maybe it would have been an acceptable day in early March, but for late May it was inexcusable.
"Dismal," said Robin, throwing his backpack into the back seat before climbing in the front. "We had to have the Sixth-Grade Picnic in the gym, and we just watched a movie instead of having the softball game. Even had to have our picture in front of that stupid mural in the gym."
"Buckle your seatbelt, honey? -- I'm sorry to hear that. Was the movie fun, though?"
"It was that one from third grade about the stupid dead dog. I guess everyone else likes that one, but it's so -- I couldn't watch. I got a book from my desk."
"Oh." Jeff snuck a glance across the seat at Robin: buckled in securely, eyes closed and expression strangely troubled. "... I really am sorry. I know how much you were looking forward to softball..."
"... it's, um, it's not just... Papa, can I talk to you? It's important."
"You can always talk to me," replied Jeff, smiling in a way he hoped was encouraging. "What's on your mind?"
"I -- I, um... I think..."
"Yes?"
"I think I'm a girl."
"Oh," said Jeff, trying to keep down the flood of guilt: misassignment and terrible bullheaded mistake and complete parental failure. "Oh. Well, um... are you sure?"
"Pretty sure. It's hard to explain, but..."
"But you don't need to, okay? If you say you're a girl, Robin, you're a girl. I trust you." If anything, Jeff realized with a sinking sensation, he was the one who probably should be giving explanations and apologies. Maybe if they'd looked at the data more closely -- maybe if they'd checked brain structure, monitored exact levels of gonad function... maybe they wouldn't have mislabeled their child for twelve years. "... I'm just sorry," he said, "that we made a mistake."
"It's okay, Papa," said Robin, with all the sweetness he'd somehow inherited from Tony. "You didn't know."
"Well, now we're going to make it right. We'll get your records changed before you start school again, and we'll get you an appointment with Dr. Larssen. Do you, um, do you think you're going to want surgery or anything?"
"No, it's okay. I -- I'm okay with how I look down there. It's just -- you know."
"... got it," said Jeff. "Tell you what: I'll call Aunt Paula this afternoon and see if you wouldn't be able to go visit her and Uncle Ness for a while this summer. She'll spoil you rotten, and anything you need to know, she'll teach you. Then when you get back, we can go clothes-shopping, maybe?"
"That sounds fun," admitted Robin, almost shyly. "... and then -- that's all it takes?"
"Probably not, but we're behind you all the way," said Jeff to the child he was already mentally re-classifying as daughter. "I'll talk to your dad about this, too."
"... thanks, Papa. I don't know if I could say it twice."
"Give yourself time," said Jeff, with a confidence he wasn't sure he actually possessed. "Breathe. We'll all find our ways."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
IV
"Condoms. Five of them. In one desk drawer alone!"
"Five condoms in a college student's desk drawer? Well, you'd better call the paper." Tony rolled his eyes from across the little hotel room, lounging on the bed even as Jeff paced the floor. "Seriously, honey, what's got you so wound up about this?"
"I just don't trust the guy she's with," Jeff confessed. "This David guy. Everything she says about him and his Philosophy major and this entire 'transhumanism' thing. It just sounds... strange."
"No stranger than anything we tossed around as undergraduates, I'd say, and aren't these the years you're supposed to have weird ideas?"
"... it's just..." Jeff paused; he'd never had an easy time articulating fear, and that certainly wasn't going to change now. How could he explain the nameless dread in his chest when he thought of Robin and this new paramour? "... I worry about her being hurt."
"What? Because...?"
"... because... you know." Because it was hard not to assume the boy was a fetishist; because it was hard to imagine a 19-year-old with the sensitivity Robin needed. It had been bad enough watching her negotiate high-school dating, but even that hadn't come with the assurance of the subject being breached, as it were, that this new discovery did. Was David even now resenting her for it? Using her for it? Ignoring it?
Tony sat up, shaking his head and giving Jeff the sympathetic, 'oh you poor thing' smile he'd become so used to over the years. "Think about it this way," he began. "Robin's a smart girl, and she's got a good self-preservation instinct. If this boy were really treating her poorly, don't you think she'd tell us? Besides, those condoms are good -- it means they're being safe, and that's what's important."
"You're right. I'm sorry, I'm just -- it's not easy to let go, Tony. I know she's got to go her own way, and even make her own mistakes, but..."
"But it's a bit frightening looking at that empty nest, isn't it?" Tony smiled, then, sheepish and impish at once. "... you're a good mother hen, you know."
"I prefer to think of myself as just fussy. The fact that she's got my mitochondrial DNA and maternal imprint is just a terrible coincidence. -- Seriously, though, you think she's all right?"
"I'm certain of it. C'mon, stop pacing and come keep me company? This whole condom issue can wait until morning, if it has to go on at all."
Jeff had to admit he had a point. As much of a tradition as uncomfortable conversations about condoms might be -- God, he'd never forget that breakfast with Tony's parents! -- maybe it could die in this generation. Maybe this David was more than he gave him credit for. Maybe, he thought, as he draped his jacket on the chair and began unbuttoning his shirt, they could all relax for a change.
"Oh, good," said Tony from the bed. "It was about time you got undressed."
V
"So what did this Transhumanity Conference entail, precisely?"
"Oh, the usual conference stuff," said Robin, with a brightness in her voice that betrayed her even through the typically dire cell-phone reception. Jeff could almost see her grin. "Presentations, panels, some posters..."
"... and," Jeff added, "no doubt an extensive bar-hopping session or two." Almost certainly with the same set of hazy, pleasant memories as all those youthful xenoethology and paraphysics conferences, longer ago than he had any desire to consider. Whatever the discipline, the drinking habits of bright-eyed academic twentysomethings never changed. "Did you and David have a good time?"
"Definitely. Lots of great stuff there to ruminate about -- a real change from the day-to-day grind, you know? I needed a break from the market projections, and this was perfect. Wandering around, meeting people, serving on that panel..."
"Wait," said Jeff. "What panel?"
"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Of course she hadn't; she was his Robin, after all, going almost too fast for him to see. "When they heard that I was coming, they asked me to be on the Reproductive Tech panel. You know, to comment on the Natatron thing? And some commentary on reproductive tech and degradation of gender. Really intriguing stuff -- and you should have seen how many drinks people bought me afterwards!"
Jeff fell silent, trying desperately to come up with a response to that. After decades of fumbling for normalcy, here was his child's blithe buzzwords and disarming casualness. Had all that fear been wasted?
No, of course not -- this was how it was supposed to be. Children took your every concern and threw them back in your face with a smile; they were the reminder that the worst-case scenario hadn't arrived, that there was no need for a Plan B. They'd always tried to hide the story for Robin's sake, but it was her story, and if she was happy to tell it, why shouldn't she? Let her be what she would be. She was happy.
"Fantastic, sweetheart," he replied, letting himself feel it. "You'll have to tell us everything next time you're home."
"Funny you should say that," replied Robin. "I was thinking about coming home next weekend, if that's okay? David and I both have a three-day, and I brought you guys some journals. You have any plans?"
"Nothing we can't break," said Jeff, gazing out the window at the sun setting behind the trees. Sure, he'd have to find something interesting to cook, and Tony'd make a fuss about cleaning... but at the end of the day, it was a small cost for yet another reminder that their fledgling had found her wings.