Some parents... (Jorge)

Sleeping…it seemed to be about the only thing that Jorge really cared about these past few days. Work had been hectic, first the paper shifter, then FBI breathing down his neck, and of course a slew of rookies had to be attempting a transfer to the MRC division. All in all it has just been an extremely long week, leaving Jorge little room for relaxing.

After his vacation with Gemma, he felt both recharged and drained. The have the away time did him a world of good, well, after the incident with the mutant apples anyways. They managed to find another bed and breakfast and were able to wrangle a couple more days off from their respective jobs. On the bad side though, Jorge had been more tired than normal lately. During the Night of the Living Apples…*sigh*…Jorge was forced to move more water than he normally had ever moved before. He had dug in deep, found the will and was able to uproot a huge tree, but in the process he nearly put himself into a long term coma. Thankfully it was only for about twenty-four hours, but still, it could have been worse. But since then, he had been really tired. Slowly he was getting better, but still, he hoped it was not permanent.

So that was why, after a long day, Jorge found himself snoozing on his sofa, legs up and dressed down to just a pair of Miami Dolphin’s sweatpants and no shirt. An open book of Edgar Allen Poe’s short stories lay on his stomach, opened to nearly the end. He was so close to the ending but fell asleep before he could make that final push. He was not along in his siesta though. At his side, on the floor, Lizzie snored loudly, her own mind wrought with dreams of chasing cats and eating from large, shiny new bowls of food.

They made a rather magnificent pair. And they would have remained that way if not for the very gentle knocking that came from the door.

Jorge grumbled, and slowly opened one eye as he turned his attention to the door. “A knocking…a knocking upon my chamber door,” he muttered as he stretched and glanced down, realizing the book was the reason why he said it. He shook his head as he tossed it aside and glanced down to see Lizzie still snoring peacefully. He sighed as he nodded to his dog. “Whoa girl, calm down, don’t get all worked up trying to protect my life or something.”

He sighed as he stood up, careful not to step on his bulldog and made his way to the door again. The knocking came just a little louder now.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. God, used to be, being a cop meant people wouldn’t try to sell your things while you were sleeping.” he groaned as he glanced over to see his cellphone on the stand near the door. His brow raised, he grabbed it and flipped it open. Instantly he saw that he had a missed call or two from Gemma. That could only mean that it was her knocking. “Oh shhh…” he muttered as he quickly unlocked. “Sorry Gemma, I didn’t even know you called,” he said as he pulled open the door. “Hey Gem – “ he paused when he saw the look on her face. She was obviously upset about something and that immediately woke him up and made him once more alert. “Gemma, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

>> "I'm fine…I'm just... a bit upset."


Jorge was quick to invite Gemma into his apartment and into as comforting a hug as he could give. He arms wrapped around her and he hugged her as close to him as he could. He from the feeling of her tension in her shoulders, it seemed like it was something she desperately needed. Whatever it was that had happened to her or that had made her upset, it obviously must have been a doozey. Whatever it was, it was greatly affecting her and he did not like that at all. He was growing more protective of her.

He guessed that’s what happened when someone is in love with the other.

“It’s okay,” he muttered as he stroked her hair and finally backed off a little. Gave her a comforting smile as he ushered her further into the apartment and reached back, knocking his door closed with his foot.

He waited then. He would let Gemma say what was wrong first.


>> "It's just... one of my students is in trouble, and I think the story she told me about her past takes the prize in the 'sucks to be a mutant' contest...."

“Oh my god, what happened?” he asked with genuine concern.

The thing is that Jorge would not have been surprised by whatever Gemma had said. He knew from experience that mutants tend to have hard upbringings. Whether the fault be with the kid’s parents or just the neighborhood or society from which they came from. It was one of those things that was hard to accept, but inevitable to experience when you’re a cop. A few times working Vice, Jorge ran into these bad situations where kids were being used as mules or had to live in squalor because their parents no longer too interest in taking care of them. It was a sad and horrible truth.

Gemma though, she worked with mutant teens and kids from that mansion. If life can be hard for human kids, he could only imagine how mutant children would have to deal with the world. He was lucky with his own life, his parents loved him ever after he pulled his Moses act on the beaches of California. Even after they were forced to flee the state in the aftermath of it. But he knew that most mutants were not as lucky as him growing up.

He then followed her to his couch and watched as she took a seat and smirked at Lizzie. That dog of his…such a protector. Jorge quickly stifled the remnant of a yawn and shook his head. He was now fully awake…but it did not escape Gemma’s attention.

>> "I keep waking you up, don't I..."

Jorge chuckled briefly and shook his head. “No, I just developed a nasty habit of sleeping whenever you want to come by. Sorry, long day.” he explained with a small smile as he walked over and joined her on the couch. “I’m okay, just, tell me what’s gotten you so rattled. Can I help?”

>> "I really hope so"

Jorge said nothing and instead remained close to Gemma as she began to relate to him everything that she had been told.

He has been a detective for a long time and in all his years there were many despicable things that he has experienced: child abuse, elderly torture, drug trafficking, etc., and in all those instances he managed to force himself through it. He remembered that he still had a job to do and no matter his personal feelings, he needed to keep a clear head in order to get through it find justice for the victim. Yes, it was not difficult to say that the man had seen many horrible and strange things in his years of work.

But this was the first time that his blood practically ran cold.

In silence he listened with a grave expression on his face, the story that Gemma told him; of a young mutant girl, a teenager who had runaway to the mansion and had been discovered harboring a terrible secret. Apparently while in training scars had been found out and told on. Scars that revealed a horrible experience that Gemma had been present to hear about. Tortured and marked, the girl must have gone through a nightmare, more than that knowing that it was her own parents that put her through such a horrible trial.

And of course, all of it was in the name of religious zealotry that Jorge really could not wrap his head around. It was sickening.

As he spied the look on Gemma’s face, Jorge pressed himself closer to her and wrapped his warm arm around her shoulders. It was a small gesture, but one that reminded her that she was not alone in sick feeling in the stomach. Very gently he stroked her bare arm and leaned down to kiss her shoulder.

>> "What kind of people are capable of torturing their own child because they think she is a horseman of the Apocalypse?!..."

That last statement was a complete stab in the stomach. Seriously? Her parents did this to her because they thought she was a Horseman of the Apocalypse? What kind of powers did this poor child have? But regardless, it was more than just her abilities, it the fact that she was a mutant that they did it. They thought she was demonic…and that was not fair…and rather terrifying. If they could do that to their own daughter for being a mutant…what could they do to some random one that comes across their path?

He sighed heavily as he kept his arm around Gemma’s shoulders tried to keep her calm. In all honesty he was having a hard time keeping himself calm as well!

“Psychos,” was all he muttered at first. “Okay, I’ll call the precinct right now and get the ball rolling on this. Your student is going to have to make a statement, photos need to be taken, more than likely social services is going to get involved...but we can take them down…” he said resolutely. There was no way he was going to let something like that happen in his city.

>> "We can't do that, Jorge…She can't do that. The child is terrified they'll find out where she is. And she doesn't trust anyone, especially not adults, and I can't really blame her for that."

Jorge felt a little deflated hearing that. It definitely not good news. If the girl was too scared to say anything on her own, then how could her statement be taken? How could the evidence be acquired. If she were a minor then the police would take such measures as to take the decision from her, but A) though the girl was 17 and she would not be able to make legal decisions until 18, that would not be a good thing to do to her, and B) it took who knows how much courage for her to open up to Gemma…they could not force her into the light of day like that.

What broke his heart more was that even though he knew she was in a secure place, she obviously had the mentality that no place would be safe from them. That could only mean that her abuse really must have been horrible. To be haunted like that…Jorge could not even comprehend.

Jorge said nothing as he sat there, feeling a little useless and kept his arms safely around Gemma’s shoulders, hugging her close to him. Gently he stroked her arm as she continued on…

>> "If this whole thing goes public, it's going to be a nightmare. It involves two things: religion and mutants…We can't drag her through all that. We just can't. She barely trusts me as she is now. And I'm the only one she talked to..."

Jorge sighed deeply.

He really did feel at a loss for what to do in this case. The second he said anything to the precinct, everyone was going to get involved and in doing so, few, if any people, will be able to contain it. News like this always manages to find a way to the reporters, always. And she was right, this was ripe for the news stations. Mutants and religious officials will draw a line in the sand, sides will be chosen, words (or worse) will be exchanged, and in the middle of all of that will be an innocent girl who did nothing wrong. She was only guilty of being a victim…that was nothing to punish her for.

Still…he saw no other way to stop this.

“Gemma,” he said honestly. “I have to tell the precinct. We can’t keep something like this for quiet, especially if we want something to be done about it. We can let monsters like that run around the city, torturing and branding mutants left and right.” he sighed as he rubbed the back of his sore neck. He really had to stop falling asleep on the couch. “Only conceivable action is to called with an anonymous report. That can just start the investigation, but immediately we do that…one of two things will happen…”

He said as he reached an open water from his desk and took a sip. He the replaced it on the table.

“Either we get there and all evidence of what happened is already gone and we can’t prosecute, or we show up, it is found out they have a daughter and the city starts a search for her. That would mean hiding her in the mansion for a very long time. Either way…her name will come up…I don’t know how long I can keep that quiet.”

Jorge hated not having answers. He deeply and truly hated it because someone was suffering and there was nothing he could do. No matter what he did, that girl would get pulled out, kicking and screaming into the light and will start a controversy unlike any other seen before. She would lose a lot of trust after that…probably never trust anyone again…

He sighed as he looked over a Gemma, leaned over and kissed her on her forehead. “Thank you, for doing your job. But…I really don’t know what else I can do. Gemma…I can’t sit on something like this for long. Either that girl needs to stay in that mansion for an extremely long amount of time, she faces what happened, or we need to find another victim, or evidence, something…”

It really was not a command. It was simply that he wanted people like that behind bars, but if the girl was not going to offer up evidence…the only other route would be for the police to take the matter from her. That would mean forcing their way into her now, barely normal life, and reopening old wounds. It was not fair and it was not right. Unfortunately Jorge really had no idea what to do. And apparently he was not the only one.

>> "She needs time…She really needs time. Maybe one day she will be ready to face it, and make a statement, and all that. But not anytime soon…And I know you can't keep it a secret. I can't either. There are other mutants out there with dangerous, or simply scary mutations, and those... people... could catch and torture any of them."


Jorge took a breath as he watched Gemma remove herself from the couch and make her way over to the kitchen. His coffee maker was then heard springing into action for her. Slowly he got up, made his way over stood, arms across his chest as he watched her work. And he thought he had a difficult job.

Sad thing is, that statement was true, if anything her job was just as hard as his. He only came in and tried to uphold justice after it had already been broken. She, on the other hand, had to be there to help prevent the victims from cracking. She had to be the guiding light for many of these down on their luck kids. And knowing the type of person she was, she probably put most of those fears and worries on herself rather than let the kid carry it alone.

She is a bearer of many crosses.

Silently he walked into the kitchen and very gently placed a hand on her shoulder. It was just a comforting touch, nothing more. As he moved around her, he began to grab a couple of mugs as well as attempt to help with the coffee preparation.


>> "I really don't know, Jorge. I mean, I could talk to her... but you didn't see her. I have never heard a person cry so hard in my life, ever."

He shook his head. “I can imagine. If she kept something like this in for so long, it must have been like an explosion.”

Another sigh and another shake of his head. It was obvious that the man was trying to work something out. The greater good told him that he needed to just report this and get the gears turning in order to prevent a similar fate from happening to anyone else…but the humanitarian in him wanted that girl mentally safe as well. Forcing her out into the open was not going to help matters any.

“It might be best if you talk to her again, see if you can get her around to at least entertaining the idea of coming to us.” he said as he turned and leaned back against in the counter. “In the meantime…do you have a name I can go on? Maybe…I dunno, I can do some on the side investigating…off the record for now. I can at least run a background on them, see if they have any other priors that I can bring to police attention. Who knows…maybe we won’t have to bring the girl into this at all.”

It was a weak idea…but really…it was the only one he had.

>> "Well...I only know her name, and I am not even sure she gave us the real one - I know I wouldn't. So, all we have is a seventeen-year-old runaway girl with two parents who apparently march up and down the streets of New YOrk City, preaching that the Apocalypse is coming, and that Pestilence is a girl. Shouldn't be too hard to find."

“Heh,” he snorted. “That is most of my mornings these days.”

It was a truthful statement. New York was not lacking in anti-mutant sentiments and the religious gatherings were only a small part of it. People of all walks of life managed to find some way, shape, or form to organize and show their spite for mutants. Not that all New York citizens were that rotten and bigoted to the core, it was simply that they were the most vocal. Sure he had heard of pro-mutant rally’s before, but they never garnered the attention that they should have…unless some anti-mutant group decided to crash the party and make their side of the issue known as well.

Still though…religious, anti-mutant protests going on in street corners, using the girl’s picture? Maybe she was right, maybe it really would not be that hard to find after all. He would have to keep it quiet though, he could not announce send out an APB without drawing attention. The unfortunate thing was that they were all allowed freedom of speak so there really was little he could do to arrest them. They needed proof first that they were doing bad things. Sadly, groups like that know how to stay outta handcuffs.

Walked over, he attempted to squeeze her shoulder reassuringly. “Listen, I can make take a look at any recent rallies that have been documented in the city. Groups like that rarely change their places of preaching. I can start checking those areas on my breaks and lunches, maybe I’ll get lucky and run into one of those groups and get a real name outta them.” he leaned over and kissed the back of her neck gently. “I’ll keep it as quiet as I can until she decides to come forward, okay? If you can get me her picture, then I should be able to recognize her if they are indeed putting up posters, maybe I can even find her in our missing persons database.” he sighed as he stepped back, holding the cup of coffee she had just handed him gently at his side.

This was going to be tough case to crack, he knew that. There were so many lines that he simple could not cross for fear of drawing a slew of unwanted attention. The girl did not deserve to be cast out into the light, the parents were monsters but they had religious devotees, and he could not tell his own department because that would immediately pull the girl into the whole mess.

It was definitely a sticky situation.

“In the meantime, maybe she’ll open up to you. I know we can’t force her to talk. We gotta hope this will be something she is ready to do on her own.”

>> "It sounds good…I can get you a picture from our files. And I'll keep talking to the girl, and I'll let you know when she is ready to... talk about it to anyone else."

The detective nodded as he stood back and watched as his girlfriend seemed to take in everything that was a part of their plan. It really must have been a lot to have to deal with. Gemma looked as if she was making the girl’s heartache her own, which was both a good and a bad thing. Sadly while empathy is always good to have when it comes to cases like this, it is not always the best move to get too wrapped up into their sorted lives. After all, it was good to care, but definitely not good destroy yourself for being unable to help them. Not every can be helped.

>> "Thank you…I really needed this."

He smiled sympathetically as he leaned over, set his coffee down on a counter and wrapped his arms around her waist. There really was not much else he could do to help her beyond that. He loved this woman and as much as he wanted to wipe the fear and sadness of the experience from her, it was not within his power right now. All he could really do was be there for her as best he could.

“No problem,” he said earnestly as he hugged her against his chest in a relaxing and caring way. “I just…I wish there were more I could do right now to help out.”

And he meant that. He did not like seeing the people he cared about irritated or upset by anything. That was not fair, especially when he was powerless to really do anything about it. Being a cop had its perks, but is also had its fair share of limitations. He had to remember that as much as he wanted to jump out there, and hunt down these people with every resource he had, he had to work within the confines of the law. It was the only way.

“Don’t worry, okay?” he said, trying to say this in his cop-like, reassuring voice. “We’ll get those monsters before it’s done to anyone else.”

>> "You should get some sleep."

He nodded as he leaned over to kiss her once more. He really was beginning to feel tired again and the coffee was doing nothing to keep him awake. Gently he took her hand as he squeezed it as calmingly as possible. He could see that there was still a lot of worry on mind concerning the young girl and everything she had gone through. He could only imagine what her life must have been like, what that torture must have been like…

Gemma could not bear the weight of all that alone.

He gave a gentle tug on her arm. “There’s an open bed if you want to stay here the night. It’s late and I would feel more comfortable if you stayed here. Besides, I think a good night sleep will do us both a lot of good after hearing all that.” he whispered sagely.

He hoped that Gemma would stay, though he could not force her. After hearing the girl’s story, it just seemed like the better option that these two stick together, at least for the night. That would keep either of them from doing something stupid like calling in the incident or seeking out the parents themselves with a sledgehammer in hand. Not that he suspected Gemma of being the violent type…but it was better safe than sorry.