The Frost Queen Part 2

Ben wasn’t sure which was going to be worse – explaining to Azmuth that the Necrofriggian hatchling they’d rescued was his own child, or explaining to his parents that they were grandparents to an alien baby.  The former would probably deliver a scathing (and boring) lecture on personal responsibility and keeping better track of his own spawn – never mind that he hadn’t exactly had control over THAT situation.  The latter… well, saying that they wouldn’t take it as well as Grandpa Max had was probably a bit of an understatement.  If they didn’t have a stroke over the news, he’d probably end up grounded or worse.

For the moment, he was content to take sanctuary at the Plumber base instead of breaking the news to either party.  At least everyone here seemed to accept what had happened – they’d all seen far stranger over the years.  

“She’s actually really adorable,” Gwen noted with a smile as she, Ben, and Kevin watched through the medbay’s observation window.  “I’d forgotten how sweet they were.”

“Kinda shocked that one of your kids turned out to be cute, Tennyson,” Kevin noted with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh har har,” Ben retorted.  “And how are you so sure it’s a she, Gwen?  I thought Big Chills didn’t have gender.”

“They’re called Necrofriggians,” she corrected, turning to glare at him.  “Honestly, can you be bothered to know their real names?  And I have to call her something, right?  It just seems so… wrong… calling her ‘it.’”

Inside the medbay, a Plumber medic was giving the hatchling an examination.  The child sat on the exam table and watched the human woman’s every move with faceted green eyes, slowly fanning her wings open and shut but otherwise not moving.  The medic wore a smile as she worked, doubtless happy to have a patient who didn’t squirm, curse, or scream like a girl in her presence.

“What’s she doing here in the first place?” asked Kevin.  “I thought Necrofriggians lived out in space until they grew up.  No way one should even be here on Earth.”

“Rook says some of the aliens we rescued from the carnies said something about a Plumber,” Ben replied.  “Maybe she was caught and sold to him by one.”

“By one of our own?” Gwen demanded.  “Ben, you realize what you’re implying, right?  That one of the Plumbers is exploiting aliens for profit?”

“Yeah, but at least we rescued those aliens,” Ben protested.  “What’s the big deal?”

“You don’t call slave trafficking a big deal?”  She clenched her hands into fists, as if wanting to knock some sense into her cousin’s skull.  “What kind of a ‘hero’ are you?”

“Then we go out and rescue them too, all right?” Ben retorted.  “Come on, how hard can it be?”

“Ben, I swear, for being Azmuth’s pet you are the biggest numbskull that I ever-”

“I am SO not Mr. Grumpy-Pants’ pet-”

“Not that watching you two fight isn’t entertaining,” Kevin cut in, “but I think they’re done with your kid, Ben.”  He pointed through the window, where the medic was helping the hatchling down from the exam table.  The Necrofriggian took the woman’s hand and pressed her palm to hers – some sort of thanks or farewell gesture, perhaps – then walked toward the wall… and ran into it with an audible thump.

Ben knew he shouldn’t laugh, but a snort escaped his nose at that, earning him a glare from Gwen.

“Guess phasing through walls doesn’t come instinctively to these guys,” he noted with a sheepish grin toward his cousin.

“You’re cruel, laughing at a baby,” she snapped.

“What, it was funny!” Ben protested.

“I gotta admit, it was kinda hilarious,” Kevin chuckled.

Gwen threw up her hands with an exasperated sigh.  “Men.  Impossible.”

The medbay door opened, and the Necrofriggian hatchling toddled out on slightly unsteady legs – whether because she was more used to flying than walking or the knock against the wall had dazed her, Ben wasn’t sure.  Her bright emerald eyes glittered as she fixed them on him, and with a chirp she hurried toward him, wrapping her arms around his knees.

“Uh… hi?” he ventured.

“Abru,” she peeped, and nestled her head against him.  Her wings fluttered happily.

“That’s adorable,” the medic noted, walking out with a wide smile on her face.

“How is she?” asked Gwen.  “Healthy, I hope?”

“As far as we can tell,” the medic replied.  “There’s been very little study done of Necrofriggian children, seeing as they almost always fly into deep space immediately after hatching and don’t make planetfall until they’re in the ‘teenage’ stage.  But she looks healthy and in good shape for her age.”  She smiled at Ben.  “It’s so sweet that you’re offering to adopt her, even though I’m sure she can take care of herself just fine.”

“I’m not adopting her!” Ben insisted.  “It’s, uh… it’s really complicated.”

The medic opened her mouth to say something… then her eyes flickered to something behind the three teens.  She snapped her mouth shut and straightened, raising one arm in a salute.

“At ease,” Grandpa Max’s voice ordered.  “The First Thinker’s just here to talk to Ben about the hatchling.”

Ben groaned.  Here he thought he’d get at least a little respite before having to confront Azmuth about this whole situation.  He really wasn’t in the mood to get yelled at for fathering an alien child – despite Gwen calling him “Azmuth’s pet,” he could never seem to do anything good enough to suit the old Galvan, so why should this be any different?

He twisted around to face Max and Azmuth as best he could with a moth-alien toddler hanging onto his legs.  Max didn’t bother to hide a laugh at the sight, while Azmuth simply narrowed his eyes – which, given that Galvan eyelids moved horizontally rather than vertically, was an odd sight.  

“I can explain,” Ben told them.  “Kinda.”

“No explanations are necessary,” Azmuth replied.  “In fact, I’ve been expecting this for some time.”

Ben’s jaw dropped.  He’d never told Azmuth about the “nesting” incident – when his Big Chill form had hijacked his mind and body, driving him to build a nest and lay eggs.  He’d been too embarrassed by the whole ordeal to even think about it again, let alone report it to anyone aside from Grandpa Max.  Bad enough that Gwen and Kevin liked to tease him about it at every opportunity; if the rest of the Plumbers learned he’d popped out a batch of kids, he’d be a laughingstock.

“You knew about this all the time?” Gwen asked.

“Knew about it?” repeated Azmuth.  “I planned for this eventuality.  There’s a reason I went to all the trouble of locating a Necrofriggian close to nesting for their species’ DNA sample when I built the Omnitrix!”

“Wait, you actually WANTED me to lay eggs?” demanded Ben, though he felt more dumbfounded than actually angry.  “That’s all kinds of messed-up, Azmuth!”

“That all depends on your definition of ‘messed-up.’”  The First Thinker stepped forward and took one of the hatchling’s wings in his hands, stretching it out to inspect the length.  “The Omnitrix was meant to be a tool to allow the wearer to better understand the culture of other races – to see through their eyes, walk in their feet, look upon the universe from another races’ perspective.  And if they experienced other aspects of those races’ culture and life cycles, so much the better.  And if the life cycle of the Necrofriggian includes the urge to nest and produce young, then so be it.”

Ben looked down at the Omnitrix with a grimace, feeling his stomach churn.  “So how many of these aliens are rigged to make me pop out kids?  Don’t tell me Upchuck is pregnant or Diamondhead is going to lay geode eggs or something.”

Azmuth blew out a sigh and lowered the wing.  “How my creation could have ended up in the hands of the most narrow-minded, hard-headed-”

“Easy, Azmuth,” Max urged.  “Ben comes from a culture that looks down on unwed and underage parents, and that considers a man being a mother unnatural.  If you want him to better understand other cultures, perhaps you should make a few allowances for his culture too.”

Azmuth sighed again.  “Only because it’s your grandson, Tennyson.  But the answer to your question is no – unless you have some sort of liaison in one of your alien forms or are still in possession of the Omnitrix when you’re ninety, you won’t be producing more non-human children.”  He grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “praise the Omniverse.”

The leaden feeling in his gut dissipated some at that.  “Phew… that’s good to know.”  He looked down at the hatchling still wrapped around his legs.  “What about this one, though?  Why is she here instead of off in deep space with her siblings?”

“A genetic mutation that crops up in approximately one in every hundred thousand Necrofriggians,” Azmuth replied, moving to inspect her other wing.  “The vast majority of them abandon the planet of their birth upon hatching, subsisting on cosmic energy and only returning to their homeworld or colonizing another world when they reach adolescence.  But one born with a slight mutation in a particular gene will be struck by an overwhelming drive to find their parent – their mother – at all costs.  They’ll return to the world where they hatched and track their mother down by scent, though anymore public records will be just as helpful if they’re available and they know how to access them.”

“So what happens when they finally find Mommy?” asked Kevin.

“In some cases the mother ignores them or drives them away.  Necrofriggians are not terribly social by nature, and are not given to forming family groups.  But in most cases the mother shares the mutated gene – it had to be passed along somehow, after all – and accepts the child, raising it much like a human mother would raise their own young.”

Ben stared down at the hatchling.  She stared back, fluttering her free wing and chirping softly at him, her compound eyes softening and gleaming with something like adoration.  She was actually pretty cute for a bug, and that expression almost melted something inside him… almost.

“You chose a Necrofriggian with the mutation on purpose, didn’t you?” asked Max.

“The Omnitrix user needed to experience as many aspects of each alien’s life as possible,” Azmuth replied.  “Yes, I deliberately chose a candidate with the mutation.  I wasn’t certain it would be passed on to the offspring, but the chances were decent enough to satisfy me.”

“But I can’t raise her,” Ben protested, looking up at Grandpa Max.  “I’m still in school!  I don’t even have a car, let alone a job!  How am I supposed to support and raise a kid?  And still handle my hero duties at the same time?”

“For once can you think of something besides being a hero?” Gwen demanded, folding her arms and glaring in exasperation.  “You’re a mother now!  It’s time to think of someone besides yourself!”

“But I have no idea how to be a mother!” Ben protested.  “I never asked for this!”

“If you reject the hatchling, they’ll most likely waste away out of grief,” Azmuth said scathingly.  “It’s how it usually ends up with hatchlings born with this mutation.  Would you really inflict that on your own flesh and blood?”  

Ben opened and shut his mouth a few times, but found he didn’t have it in him to protest.  Doing that to any hatchling, especially one he’d just rescued, would be barbaric.  And despite all his protests, the thought of abandoning the hatchling – HIS hatchling – made his heart ache.  There was some part of him in her, however small, and the thought of rejecting his own child, whatever the circumstances of her birth, was disgusting.

That didn’t solve the problem, of course – namely that he had no idea how to raise a child, let alone an alien one.  He was a high school student still living with his parents and who occasionally moonlighted as a hero.  How was he supposed to play mommy, keep his grades up, AND save Bellwood every week or so?  It was a daunting thought… and the accusing looks from Gwen and Azmuth weren’t helping.

“Gwen, Azmuth, please lay off,” Max insisted.  “Yes, Ben’s a mother now, and yes, you both want what’s best for the hatchling.  But stop acting as if he acted irresponsibly and fathered an illegitimate child.  He had no choice in the matter, had no say over whether he would be a parent or not, and had no idea that taking this mission would end with a child in his care.  He’s young and scared…”

“I’m not scared,” Ben said out of reflex, though of course that was a lie – this whole situation had him on the verge of freaking out.

“…and you two browbeating him for being afraid and unsure about this whole situation is doing nothing to help him.”  Max folded his arms across his chest.  “If he chooses not to raise the hatchling, the Plumbers will take her in.  If he chooses to raise her, we’ll do everything in our power to help him.  But let it be his choice, seeing as he had no choice in being a mother in the first place.”

If Azmuth was at all stung by Max’s veiled accusation – that he had pretty much forced motherhood onto Ben without his permission – he didn’t let it show.  “The Plumbers have enough to deal with without having to play nanny as well.  If Ben refuses the child, I’ll take her back to Galvan Prime with me.  I’ve never raised a Necrofriggian hatchling, but it would be a novel exercise.  And goodness knows the child needs someone with actual experience with children taking care of her.”

At Azmuth’s words, Ben made his decision… and he reached down and pried the hatchling’s arms off his legs.  He lifted her in his arms, amazed at how lightweight she felt.  She chirped and fluttered her wings, looping her arms around his neck.

“I’ll take care of her,” Ben assured his grandfather.  “She IS my daughter, and the last thing I wanna be is a deadbeat dad, right?  I might need a little help, though… I’m good at being a hero, but this parenting thing’s really new to me.”

Max nodded, and a smile spread over his face.  “I’ll do what I can to help you, all right?  It’s the least I can do for my great-grandchild.”

Gwen looked like she wanted to add her two bits, then sighed and shook her head.  “I’m sorry for what I said, Ben… I was just worried you’d ditch her just because she’d get in the way of you being a hero.  Thanks for proving me wrong.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Ben replied.  “Besides, with me as a dad – or mom, or abru or whatever you want to call it – she’s pretty much destined to grow up to be as awesome as me, right?”

Gwen quirked an eyebrow.  “We’ll see about that.”

“You gonna name her?” asked Kevin.  “Just calling her ‘Hatchling’ all the time is gonna get old.”

“Traditionally Necrofriggians select their own names when they reach maturity-” began Azmuth.

“But Kevin’s right, I need something to call her,” Ben cut in, and he slid his hands beneath her arms and held her at arm’s length, regarding her critically.  She cocked her head to mirror his movements, shoulder-antennae twitching, eyes gleaming curiously.

“I could always name her Elsa,” he suggested at last.  “After that Disney princess with ice powers?”

Gwen gave him a look that told him exactly how dumb of an idea she thought that was.

“I dunno if it fits,” Kevin added.  “Plus Elsa’s a queen, not a princess.”

“Like I’m supposed to keep track of those things,” Ben retorted.  “Uh… what else is a good ice name?  Frosty?  Frozone?  No, that was a guy…”

Gwen looked like she wanted to facepalm.  Kevin just grinned, obviously enjoying the show.

The hatchling chirred softly and fanned her wings, the light catching the minute scales that covered them and shining in iridescent patterns.  Funny, he’d never looked that closely at his own wings in Big Chill form… he’d never realized just how beautiful they could look, especially up close.  And the swirling patterns of iridescence almost reminded him of something else… the Northern Lights, though they had another name, didn’t they…

“Aurora,” he decided with a nod.  “Her name is Aurora.”

Kevin snorted.  “Still stuck on Disney princess names, huh?”

“Shut up, I’m naming her after the Aurora Bori-whatever they’re called,” Ben shot back, and he lifted the hatchling to sit on his shoulders.  “What do you say, Aurora?”

“Abru!” she replied, snuggling her chin against his hair.  Then, after a moment’s thought, “Aurora!”

“Atta girl.”  He laughed and settled her in on his shoulders.  “Now comes the fun part – telling Mom and Dad.”

“You want me to go with you?” asked Max.  “I could try to help soften the blow a bit.”

“Nah, I got this.  How hard can it be?”

***

Ben was really regretting those last words to his grandpa right now.

“You WHAT?!” Mom shrieked, dropping the casserole dish she’d just pulled out of the oven.

Ben winced, more at the sound of crockery and food hitting the floor than at the waste of squash-and-tofu casserole.  “I… brought home your grandkid?”

“Don’t even joke about this, Ben,” Dad ordered.  He hadn’t reacted quite as spectacularly as Mom – but then, he hadn’t been holding anything when Ben had dropped the bombshell – but he still looked a shade or two paler than normal.  “It’s way too serious a matter.”

Ben shook his head.  “I’m not joking.  I, uh… I have a kid.  Several of them, actually, but I only brought home the one.”

Dad shut his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly before replying with a single word:  “HOW?”

“It’s a REALLY long story,” Ben told them.  “But um… it happened in one of my alien forms…”

“I knew it!”  Mom threw her hands up in the air and looked heavenward as if appealing to the gods of organic cooking or whoever else might be listening.  “I KNEW you were getting up to no good with that Omnitrix!  My baby off carousing with alien women on other planets!”

“Mom, seriously…”  This was embarrassing enough without his mom wigging out over it.

“Now honey, it’s the 21st century,” Dad pointed out.  “We knew he was going to, um, experiment sooner or later.  It’s natural when boys hit a certain age.  We didn’t know it would be with aliens, but…”

“Mom, Dad, seriously!” Ben cut in.  “I didn’t sleep with an alien!”

“You had to do SOMETHING to have a kid,” Mom pointed out as she bent down to scrape up the remains of dinner.  “Children don’t just pop out of thin air.”

“Just… don’t freak out, okay?  But long story short is that, well, one of my alien forms was pregnant and made me have kids about a year ago.  We thought they all took off for deep space, but… one came back.”

“You… had kids?” Dad repeated.  “As in actually gave birth?  Like a seahorse?”

“Um… that’s one way to put it.”

Dad went several shades paler.  Mom opened and shut her mouth a few times before regaining her voice.  “Why didn’t you tell us about this?”

“Because I didn’t think they were coming back.  And I didn’t want you to freak out.”

“We’re not freaking out!” she insisted as she reached up to brush her hair out of her face, forgetting her hands were covered in squash.  “What made you think we would freak out?”

“Honey, relax,” Dad told her.  “It’s shocking yes, and we weren’t expecting our son to become a father so young.  But… well… we’ll try to be understanding, won’t we?”

Mom breathed deeply for a moment, then managed a smile.  “Oh Ben… I just worry what this is going to do for your future.  You’re still in school, and all this hero business on top of it… are you sure you can manage being a parent at the same time?”

Ben looked down at his shoes, wondering how to broach this topic.  “I… was hoping you guys could help me.  I mean… I don’t know how to be a mom or a dad… and in this case I guess I’m both.  I don’t want to dump Aurora on you – that’s her name – but I just need some help.  Please?”

His parents exchanged a look between them, then Dad nodded and turned back to him.  “We’ll do what we can, okay?  This is our grandchild we’re talking about, and we’d be terrible people if we turned her away.  We weren’t expecting to be grandparents this soon, but… better now than never, right?”  He chuckled.

“Aurora, you said?” Mom repeated.  “That’s a beautiful name.”  She wiped her hands on a towel.  “Where is she?  Could we see her?”

“She’s up in my bedroom,” Ben replied.  “I figured I should explain things to you guys before you saw her.  I’ll go get her-”

A light blue form tumbled from the ceiling with a shrill squeak, passing through the plaster and a light fixture as if they were nothing more than a hologram.  Ben let out a yelp of his own and leaped forward to catch Aurora, but the hatchling beat her wings furiously as instinct kicked in, leaving her hovering just a foot or so above the scattered remains of the casserole.  

“Aurora, you scared me!”

She trilled softly.  “Abru!”

“I guess you’re finally learning to phase,” he noted with a chuckle.  “Um, Mom, Dad… this is Aurora, my daughter.  She’s what’s called a Necrofriggian.”

He didn’t get a chance to explain much else before Mom let out an earsplitting scream of horror.  Ben sighed.  This would have gone so much better if he’d taken Grandpa Max’s offer.