How a Detective Finds Himself All Wet (Mama T)

>> "I recall a man who used to be my boyfriend a long time ago…But then he was absorbed by his work and melted away."

“Ah, sounds like quite a fool,” Jorge joked as he sat back in his chair, taking another sip of his water. “You’re probably better off without him. Maybe you should consider dating me instead?”

He had to admit that he really, really missed being around Gemma these days. Work had simply been insane, there was so much that needed to be done, including the disappearance of several mutants, the serial murder cases that the FBI pointed out to him, even sudden arrival of more cops at the precinct. Jorge was a man that liked to keep busy but this was a lot more than he could handle. Though, of course, he would never admit that. He loved his job, but there were just some moments when he realized how much he needed a vacation. As much as he wanted to change the world, he knew that he couldn’t run himself ragged either.

It was a tug-of-war and unfortunately his relationship and personal sanity were getting in the way of it.

He sighed as he attempted to take another sip of water but quickly realized that his bottle was empty.

Wow, he thought. Didn’t think I drank it that fast.

Jorge got up to head to the kitchen and toss away his empty bottle when he immediately felt a suddenly shift in his footing. He staggered briefly before he caught himself on the wall. Luckily it was a small enough move to not be heard other the phone and enough for him to simply chalk up to clumsiness…


>> "How are you holding up? Is everything all right?"

“Ugh, fine,” he said with a little bit of difficulty as he pushed himself off the wall and resumed his move to the kitchen. “Works…been hectic. So much do, so few of us to actually carry the world on our shoulders.” There was a small chuckle in his voice.

He felt his world tilt again and Jorge caught his breath and strengthened his legs as much as possible. He was feeling…off. Like there was some wrong but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Whatever the case, Jorge closed his eyes, took a breath or two, and attempted to calm himself. His mind raced, though, as he tried to figure out exactly what was wrong with him. Was he overly tired? Was this nerves? Did he need to take a nap? But even as he raced to find a solution, there was another tilt in his footing as Jorge attempted to walk towards his kitchen. A sudden intake of breath and Jorge caught himself against his refrigerator and accidentally kicked Lizzie’s food bowl.

The clatter send the bulldog running back a few paces before turning to Jorge and barking in concern.

“Oh…god…” He whispered to himself, forgetting that he was still on the phone…

>> "Jorge? Are you okay?... Maybe you should take a nap. You sound like someone from beyond the grave. Are you at home?"

Y-Yeah…I’m…home…”

Jorge knew that this was more than being simply tired. He could feel the blood pumping in his ears, the staggering weakness that wanted to take over his limbs, the sudden flush of red in his cheeks…what was this? Groaning a little as he attempted to keep himself upright in his own kitchen, the man could feel a slight tremor throughout his body. Was it a heart attack? A stroke? Was he dying or something? It was only when those thoughts came into his head that a mild panic began to seize his heart. The same panic that comes to every person when they feel as if they are on the doorstep of the afterlife.

But as much as the human part of him wanted to give in to fear, Jorge forced himself to take another step…and another…he needed…water…

“G-Gemma…I…I don’t…feel…” he groaned as he got himself to his sink. As he did, he reached shakily for the faucet when he suddenly felt a strange surge from his core.

Jorge gasped as felt an uprising in his gut and suddenly lurched forward, retching onto his kitchen counter. But…instead of any sort of disgustingness that should not be discussed, all that flew from his mouth was…water. Crystal clear, water ejected from his mouth as he struggled to keep himself upright. Normally anyone would have attempted to figure why he was vomiting pure water but his body was keeping him from thinking straight. His limbs beginning to feel weaker, Jorge attempting to hold himself up against the counter but his legs kept feeling weaker and weaker.

A glance down and he was further surprised when he noticed that there was a puddle of more clear water around his feet. His skin glistened and dripped drops of the liquid, his clothes were getting soaked and yet he did not feel the least bit hot. It was only as he looked down that he had noticed he dropped his cell phone, the screen showing that he was still connected to Gemma Taylor. Leaning down, shakily, Jorge attempted to speak once more but instead of his voice, only more water fell from his lips.

Weakening eyes looking desperately at the phone, Jorge attempted to lean down to try and talk again but instead…he fell forward and crashed onto his tiled, kitchen floor…

SPLAAASH![/b]

The moments after his phone disconnected, Jorge felt sensations that absolutely made no sense. Instead of feeling the cool tiles of his kitchen floor on his body, Jorge felt only the smallest of resistances. He wanted to get up, to shake himself off but his whole body was wracked with this off sensation of being spread out, like butter over toast. He felt himself sinking further and further into the floor and spread out more from himself than he thought was possible. But what was odd was that he could not see nor hear anything. It really was if he was dead…but why did he still feel like he was alive? He was cool and yet sometime told him that this was not death?

After the sickening feeling he felt from earlier began to dissipate Jorge slowly began to calm himself down, but why couldn’t he see?! Instead all he did was feel. Felt himself thinning out to unimaginable levels. But as his panic began to wane, Jorge attempted to move himself. If he were still alive, then he could move! He had to.

Slooosh…sloooosh…[/b]

Jorge felt the movements, so gently and so fluid and yet they were different and wrong. This was not the way his body moved. What was going on? Another urging to move and he felt himself inch along but it was not by the power of hands and feet. Instead it almost felt like he was slithering across the ground, flowing as if he were nothing more than…

N…No…

***

>> "Jorge? JORGE!"

There was absolutely nothing wrong in the apartment by the time that Gemma Taylor had burst inside. Instead all there was was an eerily calm that settled over the entire room. It was quiet and peaceful…maybe a little too much. No signs of struggle, no bodies lying on the ground, anyone else would have assumed that this was simply a practical joke. Nothing at all seemed to be out of place except for a single dog bowl that had been pushed to the middle the kitchen with wet food scattered around its rim.

From underneath the sofa, the small head of Lizzie the English Bulldog peeked out. Spying the familiar voice and the familiar scent, the white dog bolted out from under the couch and began to circle and yip at Gemma Taylor in a small panic. The dog was usually much calmer than this, but instead it seemed to be bustling with nervous energy. It bounced back and forth, leaning up and pawed at the much taller woman’s legs before bolted too and fro around the kitchen.

In the kitchen though, there was more strangeness that began to shatter the illusion of the serenity in the room. In the middle of the floor was a pile of discarded clothing, a Miami Dolphin’s sweatpant and a crumpled tank top. There was no sign of their wearer. But there, lying next to it was a soaked, shorted out cell phone. It looked as if the man had simply vanished into thin air.

Lizzie, though, the ever intelligent dog, knew the truth. Instead she bolted over and began to bark and whine at a puddle of water that shimmered at the very edge of the kitchen.

She obviously knew something and was trying to point it out. Hopefully the tall, dark skinned woman would understand her calls.

>> "Lizzie? What's wrong?"

The sound was muffled and barely audible but Jorge was sure that he heard Gemma’s voice. He was still confused as to what was going on. He couldn’t see anything yet and any sense of hearing he had drowned out, as if he were trying to listen to her underneath water…then again, if his guess was right, that was exactly what was going on! But…how was it possible? Why couldn’t he see? He could feel how spread out he was, as if he were a melted puddle of Jorge, just a spot of goo on his kitchen floor, but how? How could he even be thinking?!

Try as Jorge could to reason with these thoughts, he could not bear it any longer. He attempted to move more and only felt that strange slinking sensation of flowing water. He needed to see. If he were still alive and part of him could still hear…then it had to be possible to see…right?

Focusing as best he could, Jorge in an ocean of senses attempt to focus on sight. He had to keep imagining he could see something, anything. It was only after some frustrating effort that a wavy, distorted image appeared before his vision. Whether he was looking through his own eyes or not, Jorge did not know. All he knew was that this feeling was extremely confusing and it looked as if he were looking through a sheet of water. Mentally he winced as he tried to focus his vision and it was not until he was close to giving up that he finally made sense of wear here was. He was staring up…at his ceiling…in his kitchen…

So he was still alive. But…none of it made sense!

>> "Oh my god...”

He felt the vibrations of something dropping nearby. It sent ripples throughout his body but he still could not comprehend what he was. The muffled sounds of someone else nearby slowly grew louder as they stepped closer to him. Was he even recognizable? What did he look like? Could he even be seen?

Try as Jorge might, it took so much concentration to refocus his eyes on the image that slowly appeared before him. That dark, silky skin, the long black hair, the kindly eyes, he knew Gemma anywhere…even if he was looking at her through water…

>> “What the..."

The pain that followed was immeasurable.

The puddle of water reacted the second that Gemma got close to it. As she did the puddle of water began to retract away from it, gather more into itself and building higher. Once she was too close for the water to escape, there was a sudden surge in it! It swirled and sloshed and began to pull into itself. As it did, water and spray began to splash everywhere but quickly began to pull back, making a very vague shape on the ground. The elongated puddle as pulled in tight, forming the outline of a man before it began to fill in, forming the actual thick limbs, torso and head. Once the vague shape was done, the water slowly began to grow more defined as fingers, toes, a nose, even facial features began to take form until finally it attained the familiar shape of one, Jorge Cervantes.

Done within seconds, the water-shape of Jorge began to clench and tighten, a grimace in the water face showed the obvious pain of shifting back into a human form. Slowly the water colored into a fleshy tone as hair grew defined, body scars, imperfections, even the usual stubble on his face. It must have been a strange sight to behold was watch water shift into the form of a man.

Eyes clenched tight, vein pulsating from his neck, a nude Jorge suddenly gasped as his eyes opened wide!

Gaaaasp!! he choked in air as he panicked and scrambled back away from Gemma involuntarily. More water flew from his mouth but the second it did, it magnetically flung itself back to his body can became absorbed through his skin. His body lashed out, hands gripping the tiled floors, feet struggling to stand, as the sudden influx of the sensation of his bare skin against the floor painfully registered in his brain. The sudden shift back into human form was shocking, that was apparent enough as Jorge curled against the wall, breathing heavily and trying to make sense of what happened.

Had…had he really just turned…into water?

>> "It's okay it's okay it's okay…I'm here, you're fine. It's okay. Calm down. Shhhh."

The voice was comforting, soothing for his tired and electrified brain, but the second she touched him, the sensation felt like his skin was on fire. He wanted to pull away from her, but the rationale part of his mind that was slowly coming back told that not to do so. He needed her. Not because of her abilities, which he was sure was the reason why he was suddenly back in his human form, but because he just needed to have her here. He loved her, after all, so despite the overload of sensations his skin was relaying to his brain through her touch, he was not going to push her away.

Instead, as he sat there, listening to her calm voice, Jorge slowly allowed his body to readjust to how he should sense things. The fire in his skin slowly died away, the blurriness of his vision evaporated, and his dulled hearing began to sharpen. The going was at a snail’s pace but the detective began to feel like himself…only exhausted. It took every bit of his focus and concentration while he was…a puddle…to keep himself from feeling that he was going to fall apart. Now though…he was simply paranoid…and paranoia was exhausting…

>> "You're safe…Can you stand?"

“I…I think so…” he whispered. His voice was surprising not dry but it did sound hoarse. As if he needed to get used to speaking with his own vocal chords again. “I…don’t know what happened…”

Gently, very gently the detective raised his bare arm and hooked it around Gemma’s shoulders. He groaned as he attempted to pull himself up with her. As he set his legs down, they immediately began to shake as he attempted to gain his footing. They both felt like jelly, but at least they were not water. His first attempt, Jorge stumbled a bit and had to be held up, but as he tried again, he slowly felt his footing grow surer. With bated breath he felt himself standing higher and higher until finally he was leaning back against the walling, nodding to Gemma that he was okay. He did not know if he was in human form because of her or because he really pulled himself together but he did not want to take the chance to find out right now.

With a sigh he took a shaky step forward and tried to not lean on his girlfriend so much. It was only when he looked down that he realized that he was wearing absolutely no clothes. This had to be something from a high school nightmare.

“G-Gemma…I’m…sorry. I was…I was just sitting there and…” he shrugged as he winced and took another step. “…next thing I know…I…I don’t know. I just…I can’t explain it.” His breathing slowly began to calm as he walked with her towards the living room. “W-what did you see?”

>> "It was…It was just water. A puddle of water on the floor... umm…I think you turned into water. Then back. When I got close enough... probably because of my powers... the water... umm, you just took shape again…I think your mutation is changing. How are you feeling?"

“F-Fine,” the detective said with a nod, trying to figure out exactly what happened to him. Though the man was an experienced cop who has faced down some of the most terrifying foes thrown at him, it was this incident that shook him up the most…

But what she had just said simply hit him like a ton of bricks. Water? He had actually turned into water? And she watched as she drew closer the puddle of water on the water took his shape again! How was that at all possible? He had never been able to do anything like that before! As a matter of fact it took most of his concentration to manipulate water alone, how on earth was he now turning into water? Jorge, granted did not push his abilities to the max regularly, but never had his powers done anything like this before! It was simply…shocking...

And he still did not know how he was able to do it.

Setting himself down on the couch with Gemma’s help, he accepted the blanket she draped around his shoulders gratefully and held it close to him. Not that Jorge had a big problem with being naked, it was simply that he was still trying to warm himself up. Becoming an entity of pure water tended to make one cold, apparently.

Then he focused in on something interesting she had said: “I think your mutation is changing.”

He looked up at her a little surprised and shocked as he attempted to rub his arms to regain some warmth in his arms.

“Changing? Gemma, I’m over 40 years old,” he said a bit in surprise. “I’ve…never been able to do something like this before. How can…my mutation be changing after…SO long?”

The question was directed towards her, but also towards himself. Jorge always prided himself in being able to solve his own issues and find answers to them, but this was ridiculous. He had absolutely no clue what was going on nor any recourse that would allow him to find the answer himself. It was then that Jorge’s true reason for coming to New York shed light in the back of his brain. He always wanted to explore more about his abilities, attempt to figure something out about them and he figured since New York was a mecca for many mutants, that when the job was offered, it was like destiny. Jorge felt he was on the road to discovering more about himself.

But still…that whole experience had indeed been terrifying. That was why he kept Gemma at least at arm’s length right now. He did not want to run the risk of shifting into water again without the guidance counselor. As a matter of fact, he feared if she would attempt to walk around right now how his body would react. He knew that he could not go around with her attached at his hip. But still…

Gently he took her hand and held her close. All he wanted, all he wished for, was to know exactly what was going on with him. Were his powers really growing? How…could he know for sure?