"Chase, honey," Mama was patting the shifter child's hair down with a gentle hand. When he lifted his gaze, Mama caressed his cheek, "I know it can be hard to go to hospitals, sometimes. And I would never make you do something I don't want you to do... but Jorge has been doing much better, lately. He would really like to see you."

Chases' eyelids pinched, the white irises shrewd. A muscle twitched in his plump cheek.

"You said he left us, Mama," Chase mumbled, "That he couldn't come back."

As he grew older and wiser, the shifter child understood this to mean "dead". They had even held a funeral. Dead people weren't supposed to come back. But there Mama was, years later, saying that they had found Jorge. Ever-faithful, Mama had visited him routinely. Chase, however, had been kept in the dark. Grown-ups had a bad habit of not telling children anything, but he was twelve. A tween, if you would. Practically a teenager. So Chase did what any "reasonable" twelve year old would.

Late one night, he took his Mama's phone and combed it for details. Though while in Mama's range, he couldn't shift, she had genetic residue just like everyone else in the world. With Mama's phone in-hand, Chase plopped himself down in the armchair. His tendrils worked their way into Mama's form. A rendition of Gemma had taken Chase's place in the armchair. "Gemma" asked the phone questions, the secrets about Jorge's sudden return.

The call to the hospital flickered through his mind, <<-a contact for Jorge Cervantes? He was found early this morning, on a beach, and is currently being held at->>

Chase pushed the memory aside. He asked the phone about the visit. Gemma was in a sterile white hallway, her gaze trained on the room numbers above doors. She was counting in her head until she reached the right door. The door. A hesitant knock. Through the window she couldn't see much. She gently pressed down on the door handle, crossed the threshold. J-Jorge. Oh my god, he really--

Chase tossed the phone onto the adjacent sofa, causing the form to unravel instantaneously. He didn't want to see the gross kissy stuff. But, there Jorge had been, clear as day. He'd been in there in the hospital bed, with tubes and wires and that same warm, tired face. He really was at the hospital, Mama really had visited him. He heard Mama stirring, in the wee hours of the night, to get up and use the bathroom. Chase quickly grabbed the phone, replaced it on the counter, and scurried off to bed.

"I know, baby," Mama crooned, "We all thought he was gone. But it is a blessing that he isn't. Now we'll have a real shot at being a family. You'll have me and Jorge. Wouldn't that be something?"

"It'd be something," Chase echoed, unconvinced. Mama kissed his forehead.

"Do you want to give it a shot?"

Chase managed a quiet nod.

"Attaboy. What a trooper."

Gemma hugged them, and the two of them prepared to leave for the hospital.

---

Chase was quiet the whole ride over, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie and gaze trained out the side-window of the car. Even now that they had found parking and found their way to the front desk, Chase was still glancing anywhere but forward. He thought he'd be fine. It was just a hospital, and Jorge was supposed to be doing better. But it was too clean, too white, too stringent. There were sick people, injured people, dying people everywhere. His hood was drawn tight over his head, and he huddled closer to Mama, since he was unable to dawn his human-form in her bubble. A nagging sense of "don't want to be here" lingered at the base of his skull, a prickle of cool sweat threatening to slide down his spine.

"We'll page up to see if he's in his room, and if he's up to having visitors," the receptionist assured Mama, "Please have a seat, and we'll call you up when we know his whereabouts..."

Mama nodded, and with a gentle hand on Chase's back, found two seats in the waiting area.

It was hell. The last few months have been absolute hell as Jorge struggled with the one thing that he had never thought he would have to struggle with. His abilities had been with him since he was a teenager and early one he developed a control over them that startled most. Of course that wasn’t being braggy, it was just the truth. Jorge knew his powers inside and out and even when they continued to evolve, the man had a pretty good understanding of them. Sadly the last three and a half years of his life just seemed to be proving to Jorge that he didn’t have as firm as grasp as he thought he did – and that was nerve-racking.

However, despite the hardship, Jorge had to admit that things were slowly getting better. It used to be that he couldn’t so much as spend an evening away from Gemma without his body struggling to maintain his solid form. Many times his doctor’s found themselves at their wits end, trying to conceive of how to contain the man, even go so far as to suggest putting him in a skin-tight scuba suit so that if he did liquefy, at least he’d all be in one place. But with Gemma around, that was hardly necessary. Her abilities prevented Jorge’s powers from going haywire so her presence was needed early on so the man could be treated. However, she did have a life outside of that hospital room – a life and a son.

Chase. Jorge missed Chase, his little boy. Though Gemma and he were yet to be married, for all purposes, Jorge treated the boy as his own son. He had never had a son before, or a child of any kind, so he was all the more grateful for him. It was hard to tell Gemma to not bring Chase to see him. He wanted to, so badly, but with such a weak hold on his abilities, the detective didn’t want to get his hopes up that he could, in fact, return. But things were looking up and he wanted to see the child, to tell him in person that he was alright.

With work and dedication, Jorge started to get a grip on his abilities again, without requiring his fiancée to be nearby. Gemma was wonderful but the last thing Jorge needed was to fully encompass her life as a caregiver. So he fought and he worked himself until he was near exhaustion. His control is much better now but still not without its failings. Just the other day the man had allowed himself to get too distracted while practicing with manipulating water that his left shin started to puddle into a pool of water. He managed to catch himself in time but it was just a reminder that the man still had work to do.

Now, sitting in his hospital bed, idly flipping through the limited TV channels on his set, Jorge was distracted by the sound of his bedside phone ringing. Picking it up, he immediately straightened when the nurse informed him that he had visitors and who they were. A small smile crept over his lips – so she had finally convinced the boy to come.

Jorge had spoken with Gemma about the matter before. He was hesitant to see him; hospitals weren’t the most comfortable of places for Chase to be. Jorge understood that as the man never felt comfortable in them either. Still, he was glad that the boy decided on his own that he was going to come and see him. He agreed that he was fine with accepting visitors and returned the phone to its cradle.

Dressed simply enough in his navy blue, NYPD sweat pants and a non-descript heather grey t-shirt, the man looked comfortable but obviously tired. His warm smile was still present but his beard and hair had a bit more silver than what used to be there before. Though he was still in amazing shape, he was thinner, no longer packing the layers of solid muscle that he used to possess. Just one look at the man proved that he had gone through hell but all that mattered now was that he was back.

A small, timid knock resounded against his door. Pushing the remote on his bed to sit him up a bit higher, the man turned to the door and called out in a soft and familiar voice. ”Come in.” As he said this, he turned so that he could stand from the bed, weakly mind you, but stood and made his way around so that he faced the person who would enter. He would be the first thing that they would see.

It took all of Gemma'd patience and energy to coax Chase into visiting Jorge - and almost as much to coax Jorge into accepting the visit. She knew that both cared for the other, and they both cared for her too... but their little mismatched family had gone through a lot since the start, and it still had a long way to go. She regularly visited Jorge to keep him company, and help him relax with her powers; according to all tests he was still unstable, although she could feel his quiet determination to get better and stronger every day. His remarkable powers had remarkable downsides, but Gemma trusted that if anyone could conquer them, it would be him.

She kept an arm around Chase as she walked the boy down the hallway to Jorge's room. She remembered how she felt when he suddenly came back to life - and as strong as Chase was, he was still a kid in a strange place, about to face something that could not quite be explained. Gemma had enough training as a counselor to know he would need support. Today was going to be an exhausting day for all three of them - but she hoped it would also be a happy one.

"Here we go" she smiled, stopping in front of the door. They had already told them that Jorge was ready for visitors, but she knocked anyway.

>>”Come in.”

Gemma gave Chase's shoulder a gentle squeeze before she opened the door and walked in with him, smiling brightly at her fiance. She walked over to the bed, but being wise enough to know that twelve year olds were not fond of PDA, she merely kissed Jorge on the forehead.

"Hi honey... I brought a visitor for you."

A brief call later, and the receptionist was gesturing for them to come over. Jorge was available to see them. Mama knew the way. The knot in Chase's stomach tightened. At a certain point, the hallway became familiar to Chase, too, since the shifter child had gotten his hands on Mama's phone the other night. Luminous white eyes counted the numbers above the doors, just as Gemma had done. It was moving too fast, this was too much-- there they were, in front of the door.

>> "Here we go"

Gemma knocked. Chase felt like the floor was going to fall-out from under him. He tried to don the toughest face he could muster, his lips forming a hard line, cheeks puffing out. No, too obvious. Chase sucked air through his teeth, deflating his cheeks.

>> ”Come in.”

She was already cracking the door open, Chase could hear movement. Someone straining to get to their feet. He knew that voice. Chase could feel his heart stammering as Gemma went-on ahead, her adolescent son still lingering in the doorway. He could still run. He could run out to the car, back to Xavier's, or somewhere else entirely. Maybe run to the mall and get a soft pretzel. Anywhere was better than here.

Be strong.

>> "Hi honey... I brought a visitor for you."

Be brave.

Too late, now, Jorge knew he was there. He couldn't run. He wanted to run. The twelve-year-old had puffed his cheeks out again. If he held his breath, everything would be okay.

Be a man. A tough man. Show no weakness.

The sullen child shuffled into the room, his gaze hesitantly trailing towards Mama, towards Jorge. There he was. Part of him had wondered if the phone had lied, if it was all made-up and this was some cosmic joke. But, no. There he was.

"Hey," the shifter child tried to muster a greeting that sounded strong and aloof. But by breathing his greeting, his puffed cheeks and the tough facade cracked. Chase deflated.

The hard expression crumbled into something ugly and sorrowful. Very un-tough. Tears welled-up unwelcomed and spilled out of his eyes. Just like that, the twelve-year-old was crying.

Jorge looked older. Smaller. More grey. More tired. But there he was. It really was Jorge.

Chase, too, had grown a bit in the transpiring years. His face wasn't as babyish and round, but he still hadn't grown into his ears. He'd grown at least eight inches and was still all legs (perhaps even moreso now). His hair was shaggier (Mama had insisted that he was in-need of a haircut, but the shifter-child insisted he could just shift it shorter if it was that much of an issue). Of course it went deeper than that-- he was twelve, now, and had endured the grief of losing an almost-parent, grief then turned to resentment, and now here Jorge was, dredging most of that back up. He was supposed to be dead.

The shifter child took the sleeve of his oversized hoodie and pressed it against his face, refusing to look at or move towards either Mama or Jorge.

It may have been corny for him to think but as soon as he heard the door open and he looked up, a true vision appeared before him. Jorge had always found Gemma Taylor to be one of the most beautiful and attractive women on the face of this planet. He counted himself lucky to be in a relationship with her, least of all be engaged to her. The woman was strong, resilient, compassionate, and one of the most intelligent people he had ever met. When he first came back he wouldn’t have blamed her if she wanted to call everything off – but she stayed. Lord help him, she stayed. Though she would never accept his praise, Jorge knew that if it weren’t for her early on, he probably would be as far along as he was now.

She was, and always will be, an inspiration to him. As she moved into the room, her warm smile on her lips, the detective smirked and tilted his head down as she came closer and planted her lips upon his forehead. It was a tender and sweet moment, one that Jorge would add to the annuals of moments that this woman has given him over the years. But she wasn’t alone.

As she stepped aside, Jorge looked passed her and to the child that, well, he honestly could scarcely recognize anymore. He smiled, warmly, as the boy muttered a “Hey” in his direction. Unsure of how to start, Jorge gave the sweet boy a smile, the corners of his eyes dotted with tears that threatened to fall. He responded in kind with a ”Hey.”

The relationship that Chase and Jorge had was a special one. He remembered like it was yesterday, the young boy showing up at Xavier’s, Gemma agreeing to adopt him on the fly while Jorge investigated his shady past. It was like that, so suddenly, that the three of them became the family that Jorge had never expected he would gain. He had even asked the young boy’s permission for propose to Gemma, his new mother. The gesture seemed to go over well with the boy and Jorge was only too happy to be included in his family.

But that wasn’t the last of it. Of course hardships would follow them. Jorge had disappeared, for years, the only explanation was that he was dead. Chase, of course, would have been told this and grieved him and moved on. Now, suddenly, he was back? It was no wonder that it took him so long to actually accompany Gemma to see him in the hospital. In no way could Jorge blame him. Even now he could see how Chase struggled to keep a firm look in his eyes as he avoided looking at either of them. What else could Jorge do but sigh?

Tears sprang from the boy’s eyes as he still refused to look in his direction. Gulping, Jorge shared a look with Gemma before he took a deep breath and moved onto his two feet. Shakily he stood up, leaning on the bed for support. When Gemma would attempt to assist him, he would give her a warm smile but hold up his hand in protest; he could do this. Standing on his two legs, the detective slowly crossed the distance between himself and the boy. Standing in front of him, the much taller detective gently moved onto his knee so that he faced him eye-to-eye (or as best he could considering how Chase turned and avoided his gaze)

Jorge was didn’t want to touch him lest he make issues worse, but, kneeling there, he waited until Chase caught his eyes, his own tears reflected there as he watched him. With a shaky breath the man spoke in a tender tone towards the boy.

”Chase, I don’t blame you for being upset,” Jorge admitted. ”I was…gone for a long time. I didn’t think I’d ever see you or your mom again. But you know what, buddy?” He waited until Chase really did catch his gaze and held it. A fresh tear rolling down his cheeks, the man nodded. ”I couldn’t be happier to see you now.”

Gemma could feel the tension and hesitation in Chase's posture, and for a moment she was worried he might bolt out of the room. If he did, she would have to follow, even though he was fully capable of hiding himself once he was outside of her aura. She hoped it would not come to that... the reunion was emotional and difficult, but she still hoped their ties as a family would prevail in the end.

Chase began to cry. Gemma wanted to go to him, but Jorge moved to get out of bed first. She reached to steady him, but he gently waved her away - so she stepped back, watching the two of them as Jorge knelt in front of the boy. It was their moment now. Gemma stood back, close enough to use her aura of Jorge lost grip on his powers, but far enough not to be intruding. She would just have to trust them to work things out for themselves... as much as it went against all of her instincts. Folding her arms, she leaned against the bed, holding her own tears back as she watched the two of them. It was a sight she had never expected to see again in her life...

The shifter child kept his sleeve pressed firmly to his face, biting his lip against the shuddering tears. This... was decidedly not "tough". At all. He heard the bed creak faintly as Jorge roused himself and, in his peripheral vision, he saw Jorge shuffling closer. Heard him. Felt him. This was really happening. Chase's gaze flickered towards Jorge-- away, back again, away. Sure, the peevish sense that they'd been abandoned still lingered, but it was more than that... seeing Jorge, knowing he was there, dredged up so much more. The old sorrow over losing Jorge, the confusion over how he was there now, the crushing weight of everyone's mortality and (above all) relief.

>> ”Chase, I don’t blame you for being upset, I was…gone for a long time. I didn’t think I’d ever see you or your mom again. But you know what, buddy?”

This time, his gaze returned and then stuck, catching Jorge's own, pained expression. Chase's stomach twisted. He wanted to run away. This was a lot to take in.

>> ”I couldn’t be happier to see you now.”

Chase's lip quivered and he looked away again, balling his sleeves over his hands. Perhaps Jorge was in Mama's range, perhaps not. But this felt... right, regardless of the repercussions. The shifter child sank against Jorge, sleeve-clad arms twisting around the back of his neck and hood-covered head turned sideways. He wasn't a touchy-feely kid. He hated it. But Chase needed to know that Jorge was real-- really kneeling there. Really alive. Tangible. He was. Chase took the precaution of turning his face sideways and covering his hands to prevent the sting of skin-to-skin contact.

"W-we thought," Chase stammered, trembling, "We thought you were-"

Chase burrowed his face, to the best that he was able, "Gone-gone."

"Dead" felt like too intense of a word. Jorge felt smaller-- perhaps he was more slim, perhaps Chase's arms had gotten longer... maybe a mixture of both. The tween stepped back, breaking the desperate hug and drinking his almost-father's appearance in.  Chase's lips were still thinned, tears still welled-up in his eyes. So many questions churned in the shifter child's skull, begging to be asked. He was too dumbfounded to say too much, though. There was too much to say. There was nothing to say. How did you get someone up-to-speed on the number of years they were missing? Where did you start?

Chase mopped at his tears and snotty nose with his sleeve (like any practical twelve-year-old would do). Finally, a question surfaced, and this one felt like a reasonable one to ask.

"When do you get to come home?"

His voice was husky from crying.

Jorge was careful when he touched Chase. He knew very well that the kid’s powers made him uncomfortable with touch. Even though they were probably in Gemma’s aura, a lifetime of shying away from human touch made it difficult even when it was okay. Jorge had been gone for many years but even that was something the man wouldn’t forget about his own son.

Catching him by the eye, told him in all honesty, that he was happy to see him. It was the truth. Gemma, Chase, these were people that Jorge never thought he would see again and was terrified by that prospect. They were the single thoughts he managed to hold onto when he was adrift in the ocean and they were the first names on his lips when he returned to the world of the living. It was safe to say that these two had been the one guiding force that Jorge relied on to keep himself sane. If it wasn’t for that, well, he didn’t know where he would be right now.

He could see the resolve crumbling under Chase’s defiant gaze. He was confused, upset, and scared all at the same time, feelings that Jorge felt were more than justified. It had been at least four years and in all that time he must have grieved Jorge’s passing and either moved on or just started to. Either way Jorge could understand the mix of emotions the boy was probably feeling and wanted to do whatever he could to make them easier. It was as he caught the boy’s eyes, finally, that Chase finally gave in and wrapped his arms around his neck.

Jorge was all too glad to receive the gesture.

A heavy sigh fell from his lips as if he felt the last albatross take flight from around his neck. The last thing he wanted was to throw Chase’s life into turmoil but this meeting had to happen, they had to experience the pain, the discomfort, the forgotten tears; it was the only way that they were going to move forward.

Holding his boy, Jorge nodded as Chase began to stammer, trembling out his words about what they had figured the fate of Jorge Cervantes to be. Chase and Gemma weren’t the only ones. Everyone in his world thought the same thing so Jorge wasn’t at all surprised. The surprise was going to be letting everyone know that he was back among the living. It would be a difficult task, but it would be one achieved one person at a time.

”I know, buddy,” Jorge said soothingly as he patted his back as gently as he could. ”I know. Trust me, it was a journey I didn’t want to go on.” Breaking the hug, Jorge leaned back, still kneeling in front of his boy, his hands upon his shoulders. ”I’m so sorry I put you two through that. You two mean the world to me and the last thing I wanted to ever do was put you through something like this.”

Still keeping at eye-level with Chase, Jorge sighed as he unwound his arms and leaned back, looking his son over. Years had passed and years had an effect on him. He was taller, at least by a few inches and looked a little more gangly. He was growing up and the fact that Jorge had missed parts of that really weighed upon his heart. But there was no use lamenting over those years gone, especially when he was now here to experience the rest of it.

>>”When do you get to come home?”

Jorge smirked. The truth was that he didn’t know. He wanted to come home right then and there but until he had a better control on his abilities, it wasn’t safe if he did. So he sighed as he scratched the side of his cheek.

”That depends. I…got really sick and I’m doing so much better now, but I still have some ways to go.” He nodded as he gave his son a squeeze on the shoulder. ”If I keep doing well, then hopefully really soon. And, until then, you and your mom can visit me whenever you like. You can call me any time. I’m always here for you, son.” he placed his hand over his heart. ”Promise.”

Chase was still hesitant... but eventually his defenses crumbled, and he moved to hug Jorge ever so carefully. Gemma reached up to wipe some tears from the corner of her eye as she watched the two of them. It was a moment she never thought she would see, and also one she knew she would never forget.

>>"When do you get to come home?"

>>”That depends. I…got really sick and I’m doing so much better now, but I still have some ways to go. If I keep doing well, then hopefully really soon. And, until then, you and your mom can visit me whenever you like. You can call me any time. I’m always here for you, son. Promise.”

Gemma smiled. The worst was over. Chase still loved Jorge like a father, and wanted him to come home... to the home in the Mansion they had now, not the apartment he had before. They would be reunited, and Chase and Jorge would have all the time in the world to find each other again. Just like she did.

Gemma moved forward, and summoned some tissues from her pocket for Chase to wipe his face with (she would have to wash the hoodie later). She placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, proud of him for having gone through all the emotions.

"He will come home with us soon enough" she added with a smile.

>> ”I know, buddy. I know. Trust me, it was a journey I didn’t want to go on. I’m so sorry I put you two through that. You two mean the world to me and the last thing I wanted to ever do was put you through something like this.”

There was a sinking feeling in Chase's stomach, and his mouth opened wordlessly. Where did you go, Chase wanted to ask? Why were you gone for so long? Why did you leave us? If you didn't want to go, why didn't you come back sooner? His mouth closed. Tears were welling up in his eyes again. It was so easy to return to tears, once you got started. The child inhaled shakily and pushed his sleeve-clad hand to his eyes once again.

>> ”That depends. I…got really sick and I’m doing so much better now, but I still have some ways to go. If I keep doing well, then hopefully really soon. And, until then, you and your mom can visit me whenever you like. You can call me any time. I’m always here for you, son. Promise.”

The shifter child nodded lamely, accepting the tissue from Mama. Halfheartedly he pressed it to his face, but his sleeve had already done the job well enough.

>> "He will come home with us soon enough"

"You don't look sick," Chase said quietly, his brow furrowed. Really, Jorge didn't. He looked smaller, sure, like he'd lost some weight or perhaps Chase had gotten taller. Chase looked to Mama, his expression still troubled, as he reiterated, "He doesn't look sick."

The boy moved towards the unoccupied bed parallel to Jorge's, just behind Mama, and he clambered onto it. The bed felt stiff and it was wrapped in plastic. Chase let his legs dangle off the edge of the bed, kicking them lightly. It was apparent that the gears were turning in his head. He knew realistically they couldn't break Jorge out of the hospital. He had to stay there until he was better. But a touch of childlike whimsy pushed Chase through the framework of a plan. Chase could take something of Jorge's while Mama drove home. Then when they got home Chase could change back like nothing ever happened! It would be foolproof.

Chase lifted his gaze towards Mama-- she'd never agree to it. She'd do the Mom thing and say he wasn't well enough, Chase could hear the shutdown verbatim in his skull.

"We could bust you out of here," Chase said, mostly kidding. He flashed a smile, "We could get you a chocolate milkshake or something." Of course, they could also just bring him a milkshake, but that wasn't nearly as fun. The boy cast an impish smile at Mama, "What's the food like here anyway?"

It was a sudden change in topic and tone, but the shifter child could only take so much seriousness from Mama and Jorge. The fact that Jorge was back was a happy thing, and here they were acting like he was so fragile, like the slightest gust of wind could knock the life back out of him. Mortality wasn't a comfortable thing to think about. There were tears still welling in Chase's eyes and his tone quivered despite the smile that touched his expression. He didn't want to think about those, either.

It pained Jorge to look at Chase’s face. It was clear that he was trying to understand what he was going through. His “father” had died and he had moved on from him. After four years, of course he would have moved on, despite any feelings that Gemma may have had. He had seen kids move on fairly quickly because they are young enough to heal from those scars. But now that Jorge was back, it was clear that he was throwing the young boy for a loop. He hated to be the cause of any discomfort but Jorge wanted his son to know that he was alive. He may not have been his biological father, but Chase was his son no matter what anyone said.

Chase feebly tried to understand Jorge’s meaning when he said he was sick. Jorge was being protective because the last thing he wanted Chase to think about was him getting shot and dissolved into water particles in the middle of the ocean. It was a terrifying thought for an adult to think of, he couldn’t even imagine what a pre-teen would think if he knew the truth. Still, it was hard to see him looking between the two of his parents, proclaiming that Jorge looked fine. Jorge smirked, he was thankful that at least someone said he looked okay.

”I know buddy. But I’m not sick on the outside,” he tried to explain. He gestured to the rest of himself. ”I’m just a little sick inside. But I’m doing better.”

It was after this that Chase excused himself, moving towards and unoccupied bed next to his own. As he climbed onto the mattress, Jorge stood (with Gemma’s help) and straightened up. He still wasn’t used to a lot of movement and touch but it was getting a little easier. Standing upright, Jorge moved back over to his bed and sat across from Chase, smirking a little as he looked at him. The boy was certainly a sight for sore eyes.

He was taller, a bit more filled out. Still he retained some of that boyish chub on his cheeks, but he was lankier and steadily marching into teen years. It shamed Jorge that he had missed so much of him growing up, that he was putting him through all of this all over again, but the man knew that they were pains that would eventually fade. He didn’t have plans of ever doing that again and, deep down, he hoped that Chase would be able to get through this without too many lasting scars.

>> "We could bust you out of here … We could get you a chocolate milkshake or something … What's the food like here anyway?"

Jorge’s smirk widened a bit. He was thankful that the conversation was switching away to something a bit more light than his health. The boy needed time to process all of this and Jorge wanted to make sure he got it. Still, he wanted to be there for him, to listen to him, and to help him process things as best he could. At the question about sneaking him out of the hospital, Jorge chuckled a bit. He would of course say that it was something that would displease his mother, but he didn’t need her appearing like the bad guy here.

”A chocolate milkshake sounds amazing,” Jorge said with a nod. ”But I think I should stay until the doctor’s say I’m good enough to leave. But don’t you worry, I’ll make sure that they don’t forget I’m here and first thing I’m out, we can get a milkshake.” Jorge wrinkled his nose a bit at the food that he was being served here. Of course he knew it was stuff that had to be made on mass and flavor and texture was not high on the priority list, still he could go for a nice greasy burger right now. He cleared his throat before he answered. ”It’s okay. Not the best chefs in the world working here but the Jello isn’t half-bad.”

He smirked, a lightness in his eyes. This was nice. He missed this, more than he was willing to admit at the moment lest he start crying in thankfulness all over again.

>>"You don't look sick. He doesn't look sick."

Gemma nodded. She would have to allow time for Chase to process all the information: Jorge looked well enough - a lot better than when he first had been found, for sure. She was glad that Chase at least did not have to see him worn out, and worry even more.

>>”I know buddy. But I’m not sick on the outside. I’m just a little sick inside. But I’m doing better.”

Chase took a seat on one of the beds, and Jorge got up too. Gemma helped him, holding his arm; he was still a little wobbly on his feet, although definitely a lot steadier when he was inside her aura. Once he sat down onto his own bed, Gemma moved over to sit by Chase. Her feet were not danging like the boy's did, but she was close enough if comfort was needed.

>>"We could bust you out of here. We could get you a chocolate milkshake or something. What's the food like here anyway?"

Gemma glanced across at Jorge with a small smile. There would be no busting out on her watch, and both guys knew it. Jorge knew better than to encourage Chase's plans, as much as he himself probably wanted to leave the hospital too.

>>”A chocolate milkshake sounds amazing. But I think I should stay until the doctor’s say I’m good enough to leave. But don’t you worry, I’ll make sure that they don’t forget I’m here and first thing I’m out, we can get a milkshake... It’s okay. Not the best chefs in the world working here but the Jello isn’t half-bad.”

"It should only be a few more days, honey." Gemma smiled down at Chase. She was telling the truth; Jorge was recovering faster now, and the doctors talked about discharging him soon. Hopefully, Chase would not have to go much longer without his father. "And we can bring him a milkshake if we visit tomorrow, if you want."

>> ”I know buddy. But I’m not sick on the outside. I’m just a little sick inside. But I’m doing better.”

A frown tugged at Chase’s expression. In a handful of movies, he’d heard the term “sick in the head”, which the twelve-year-old knew to mean “crazy”. But if someone was really “crazy”, Hollywood had taught the child that said individuals were typically put in straightjackets and padded rooms. Jorge didn’t look mentally unstable to the boy. His shrewd eyes flicking between Mama and Jorge.

>> ”A chocolate milkshake sounds amazing, but I think I should stay until the doctor’s say I’m good enough to leave. But don’t you worry, I’ll make sure that they don’t forget I’m here and first thing I’m out, we can get a milkshake… It’s okay. Not the best chefs in the world working here but the Jello isn’t half-bad.”

>> "It should only be a few more days, honey. And we can bring him a milkshake if we visit tomorrow, if you want."

Another forlorn nod from the child.

“We should bring a milkshake tomorrow,” Chase said decisively, silently pleading Gemma with his eyes. Now that he was here, he didn’t want to leave—as if leaving the hospital meant that Jorge might disappear again. He puffed his cheeks in an attempt to make himself look more serious and assertive.

He knew that a lot of this would be difficult for Chase to process, but in the end, that didn’t matter. He was back and he wanted to stay here as much as he possibly could. Spending so many years as just particles of water, and then trying to rehabilitate himself back into a functioning human, had drained the man pretty heavily, but it also gave him a sense of clarity. He knew that he wanted to be here, that he wanted to be his family, and it was most certainly something worth fighting for. That was the only thing keeping him from leaving right then and there – he wanted to be one-hundred percent before he rejoined their lives. There was no way he wanted Chase to go through this again.

Sitting across from the boy, Jorge smiled encouragingly at his son as he processed everything. It was clear that this was going to take some time, but Jorge was more than patient. As much as he wanted to go home right now and ease any fears his son had, he also knew that he couldn’t jeopardize himself either. As Chase tried to question further, Jorge thankfully had Gemma here to help back him up.

>> "It should only be a few more days, honey. And we can bring him a milkshake if we visit tomorrow, if you want."

He smiled at the woman that at one point (hopefully still) would be his bridge. She always had a way with children that he respected and admired. Her words, though not initially what Chase wanted to her, had a ring of calm about them. So long as Chase had a timeline to work off of, and a promise from her to return with more tasty treats, then it would be enough to satisfy the boy. Jorge expressed his thanks to her with a smile.

>> “We should bring a milkshake tomorrow,

There. He had decided. That was most important part of this. Watched his puffed up cheeks and his stern expression, Jorge had to smirk in appreciation of the boy. So long as he was on board with this then everything should work out just fine. Jorge smirked as he raised his hand and saluted at the young boy.

”As you say, sir,” he grinned. ”You know what’s best.”

>>“We should bring a milkshake tomorrow,”

Gemma smiled as Chase attempted to look bigger, older, and more decisive than he really was. As hesitant as he had been about visiting Jorge, he soon realized that his adopted father still loved him, and that there was still a chance, however unlikely it had sounded before, that they could make a family. Gemma wrapped an arm around Chase's shoulder.

>>”As you say, sir. You know what’s best.”

"Milkshake tomorrow, then" she nodded with a smile, leaning down to press a kiss on top of Chase's head. He usually bristled about such things, since he considered himself a grown man now, but she couldn't resist. "Let's let Jorge rest, hm?"

She walked over to her fiancé, pressing a kiss to his cheek too.

"Stay in bed, will you?" she told him with a smile, squeezing his hand before she let go "No milkshake if you run around exhausting yourself. We'll be back tomorrow."

She waited for Chase to say goodbye too, before they walked out of the room. The visit, all in all, had gone better than she'd expected. Gemma had a smile on her face as she left her hospital with her son; in only a few more days, Jorge would join them too. It was time to go home.