Which was perhaps why he could not stand his parents to the degree that he did. While they were meticulous with their planning, Ali preferred to fun headfirst into danger and see what became of him. He prized science over business and wanted to save lives more than earn money.

His whole life had been planned for him since he was an infant. Josephine had chosen which schools he would attend when he was still in her womb and Yves spent many grueling hours slaving away to afford his child the best education money could buy. They were thrilled at first that their son turned out to be quite the little genius. He excelled at just about every subject that he was faced with.

But then they tried to steer him in one direction, and Ali resisted.

At first, they had spoiled him. He was given the best gifts, but was bored by all of the superficiality. The friends he was pushed into interacting with were far from interesting, and as much as he hated to admit it, it was difficult to find common ground with the rich and shallow. When he was presented with piano lessons, at first he balked at the idea of spending his time on something so trivial.

But then he learned how a piano was built, how it worked to create such a magical tone. He dissected the way music was written, and how a language made up of symbols could still be universally understood no matter what language you spoke. And as soon as he began to enjoy it, they retracted their interest in funding his lessons. And piano lessons were not cheap.

The day he had met Korain had changed his life forever. Little did he know just how much of an impact his best friend-turned husband would make. When the two eventually reached Terminus, Alistair was insistent on leaving his family behind and never seeing them again.

Fate, as it would seem, had other plans.

"Ah, my dear Alistair, you look well." Ali felt his whole body go cold as soon as he heard the voice. He knew precisely who it belonged to before he even turned around to face his mother and father, dressed in fineries he was not entirely sure they could actually afford. Their tastes always seemed to go beyond that which their income supported. Perhaps that was why they hoped their only son would end up with a job in the financial sector.

"Mère. Père." He slipped into the French tongue, as he was wont to do around his family.

"I am so thankful that we managed to track you down, and just in time for Christmas," returned his father. "It has been far too long."

"What your father is trying to say is, we would like to take you out for dinner one of these days. Before we have to return to Babylon. Are you free to dine with us?" No matter how warm his mother’s smile appeared, Ali knew better. He could see right into her eyes, sensing that familiar fierceness he remembered so vividly from childhood, always dredging up feelings of worthlessness in spite of his many achievements.

What did Alistair say to that? He could lie, tell his parents that he was busy. But if they managed to track him down across the entire space station - and stars only knew how they managed to do that in a world where everyone prized the anonymity - they likely knew far more than they were willing to let slip. He also noted how she phrased the question. Asking if he was free. Wasn’t asking if he wanted to. Almost as if she knew how he would have answered if given the choice.

"I will have to check my schedule," Ali replied, swallowing thickly, his voice wavering with doubt and confusion. He tried to drum up an image of his husbands, of everything that he loved and held dear to remember that he was not worthless, and that these people in front of him might have raised him but had no bearing over his worth.

"Please do," Yves replied, his lips drawn into a thin smile. "And give our regards to your husbands."

Well, that answered just how much they knew. Ali wasn’t quite sure how they knew, but he could feel a chill crawling cross his chest, grabbing hold of his heart and giving it a gentle squeeze as he forgot how to breathe for a moment. It almost felt like a threat, them flouting that information so flippantly. He knew he would have to warn his husbands, although he doubted they would reach out. What their business was trying to reconnect with their son, he was not quite sure of, but part of him wanted to take them up on that offer, if nothing else than to determine what this was all about.

"Will do," he squeaked out, his face pale and surely giving him away. He quickly turned back around, knowing they would find a way to communicate with him when they wanted to follow through with their insistence to have dinner with their son, even though he did not open a channel on his communicator. He rushed through the station, forgetting completely where his destination was.

Later that night, after finding out that his parents indeed had reached out to neither Korain nor Antony, he started to forget completely about the incident, hoping that perhaps they only meant to shake things up a bit, make Alistair lose confidence in himself by reminding him that they existed, and were apparently watching his every move. And then, as he was about to join his husbands for bed, his communicator went off at 11:19pm.

We will be dining at Pau. December 28th. 7:30pm sharp. Don't be late, dress nicely, and please do bring your husbands.

With a trembling hand, Ali turned his communicator off for the night and placed it beside Antony's, crawling into bed. He knew he would not be getting much in the way of sleep that night, even with feeling Ant's heat radiating off of him, sensing the way he fell into a calm sleep - a miracle considering how often he wound up restless with nightmares. Instead, it was Ali who woke up with a start, excusing himself to the day bed where he rested with his eyes open, Ghost at his side trying desperately to comfort him.