He didn’t remember this. And it killed. It absolutely killed him that he was staring at this moment of time and he had absolutely no recollection of it. Instead all he felt were pinpricks of thoughts, little pokes in the corners of his brain that were aggravated as it rubbed too much with sandpaper. It hurt. Like when he first was trying to remember things, it hurt. But what was probably the most difficult for him besides staring at his older self in a scene that he couldn’t recall -- was seeing Ms. Taylor.

He didn’t recognize the place but he could surmise that it was some kind of restaurant. The tablecloth, the linen napkins, the single candle sitting in a round, glass bowl, the view of the river outside -- it was absolutely beautiful. But what was most shocking was who he was holding hands with.

They looked...happy together. He looked happy. All smiles as they posed for their seated picture, half-eaten food in the plates, love clearly in their expressions. Jorge sighed. That was him. He knew it was. He also knew this was important because it was tucked into one of his favorite books. But the confusion hung heavily in his mind as he tried to zero in his focus into the picture.

Conversations began to slip back in. Since she met him at the precinct, she had seemed...edgy and blocked off. She never alluded to who he was married to -- and the same in reverse. The look of pain on her face every time he mentioned or asked about it was telling now. The frustration over the lack of an answer had clearly blinded him; there was there in front of him this whole time.

His jaw clenched as he continued to stare at the photograph. His mind wavered between anger, sadness, and relief. It had just reached a culmination when he finally heard the soft ”...oh.” fill the dead air. He hadn’t realized she had returned from the bathroom and yet, here she was, standing before him, wearing an all too familiar expression that he could finally identify -- guilt.

Water began to churn. As the emotional fallout began, and still being far enough away from her aura, the water in their bottles began to spin and splash against the twisted caps as he struggled to maintain control under the silent tempest that was settled in behind his eyes.

”...you knew…” he whispered. After a pregnant pause he finally turned his head up, bleary eyes staring at her in the doorway. ”...this whole time. And you didn’t tell me?”

Gemma saw Jorge's face before she saw the picture he was looking at, and she knew the game was over. There was a terrible, sinking feeling in her stomach. He would hate her. She was far enough away that his powers slipped with his emotions, making the water within reach churn. The pain in his expression was worse than she'd ever imagined.

>>”...you knew...this whole time. And you didn’t tell me?”

Gemma felt tears beginning to roll down her face as she held herself up by sheer force of will. She was not the injured party here. She had no right to fall apart.

"I knew. They called next of kin." she said quietly. She remembered the moment when she decided to take her ring off and not tell Jorge who she was. At the time, it seemed like the reasonable decision. Not, less so. And she had been keeping it from him for weeks.

"I didn't mean to hurt you... just..." she sighed, shaking her head, it felt like a flimsy excuse now "I didn't want you to feel responsible for someone you don't even know."

It was...conflicting. Here he was, trying to find any small snippets of the decades of life that he had missed out on, and the one person whom he was feeling like he could trust turned out to be one holding onto the most vital information. He almost felt physically sick at the idea of it, a feeling which only got worse as he looked at her face. He needed an explanation, and he needed it now.

By the expression on her face he could see that she knew precisely what he had been looking at. There was no way to go but forward when he asked if she had known. He already knew the truth, now it was time to see just how much she was going to commit to the lie.

The water swirled in the bottles, popping off the lids and swirling into the open air. His jaw clenched tightly as she spoke. She confirmed that she did know, since the first day. They had called next of kin, after all.

He remembered how desperate he felt when he was holding onto that wedding ring in his hands. The weight of it between his fingers. He didn’t know who he was married to and while he was certain it would have been painful to them to be married to someone that no longer recognized them, at least that was a pain they could have gone through together.

Instead it’s been months of struggling to know who he is only to have Ms. Taylor (or is it Mrs. Cervantes) withholding vital information.

In reaction to his confused, frustrated emotions, the globules of floating water took menacing shapes, spiking outward like little morning stars before fluidly bending and wrapping around his body like a protective serpent. His gaze turned down to the carpet, eyes boring holes into the floorboards as she tried to explain.

Once again his hurt-filled eyes locked in onto her. ”Responsible? Gemma, we could have gone through this together. I’ve been desperate for any kind of information. Anything. And you’ve just stood back and watched me go through that? For months? What else don’t I know?” He asked with exasperation. ”What do we have a house in the burbs? Couple a of kids? What?”

She'd hurt him. She'd hurt him worse than she'd ever meant to, losing his trust in the process of trying to protect him from disappointment. In Gemma's mind, it would have been a burden to present Jorge an entire family he is supposed to care about and care for, while he was barely figuring out who he was. Clearly, it had been the wrong choice, and now she was stuck with living with the consequences of her actions.
Had it been selfish? Was she protecting herself from losing her husband again?...

Water boiled around them, his powers pulling it to him. Nothing touched her aura as she stayed in the doorway, silently crying.

>>”Responsible? Gemma, we could have gone through this together. I’ve been desperate for any kind of information. Anything. And you’ve just stood back and watched me go through that? For months?"

It would have been bad. It would have been bad the other way too. He would have struggled with not remembering her, his children, all of it. Who said he wanted the same life the second time around?

"I was trying to..."

>>"What else don’t I know? What do we have a house in the burbs? Couple a of kids? What?”

Gemma winced at the question as much as the tone. Things were crashing and burning around her, and at this point, the only way to go was through. To give him what he wanted to know, and then deal with the ruins. Gemma sighed, sinking onto the closest chair.

"We kept this apartment, but we live at the Mansion" she said quietly "We have two kids. Adopted. Chase and Toby. They are... twins." from different universes, but that was a story for another time. Maybe. "We met ten years ago. We've been married for two. I... lost you, once. For three years, you were gone in the ocean."

He could see that she was upset. That she was hurting over her actions. But while that was appreciated, Jorge also was having a hard time focusing on anyone else’s emotions but his own. This was big. Like, one of the biggest betrayals that he had ever had to face. The person that he was steadily trusting during the worst time of his life turned out to be a liar, holding back some of the most important, key information from him. And did so knowingly.

That was a hard pill to swallow. And an even harder act to forgive.

Water continued to float protectively around him. He stood there, staring in confusion, his gaze sweeping from Gemma to the carpet, to the walls, seeking any kind of perchance so that she could begin to calm. Hard it seemed harder and harder to do the more he thought about it.

He snapped. He wanted answers and he wanted them now. The questions were general, exaggerations that hardly seemed possible. As Gemma took an exhausted seat, Jorge turned his back to her, leaning on a bookcase as he hung his head. It was too much. So much information. While he understood why she didn’t want to tell him everything right off the bat, it’s been months Months where he could have been taking all this slowly. Instead he was just hearing it all right off the bat.

It was a lot. Almost too much. Especially when she confirmed the worst part of all this -- kids. He had kids. Not only that but twins. Didn’t matter to him that they were adopted but he was a father and he hasn’t known that for this long? His head snapped back to her as she said this, further explaining that they had known each other for ten years, been married for two, and he had vanished for three, lost in the ocean.

He couldn’t help it. His legs felt weak. He slumped into his former chair, gulping as he tried to catch his breath. His heart. It was beating too fast. Was he going to have a heart attack? Was he going to keel over right here? No. His skin felt like it was vibrating and the water swirled faster, but he wasn’t in danger. Anxiety. His jaw tightened as he clenched and unclenched his hands.

But it was hard to control. His breathing felt short. He gulped as he stared down at the table top. ”G-Get out…” he whispered. There wasn’t hate behind his words. Instead it was more of a pleading. ”...please...just...get out. I...I can’t think straight…” It was only after a long moment before he raised his eyes to meet hers and said, ”...I can’t...think...with you here. Please...”

Jorge's powers were losing control. So was his breathing. Gemma watched as he stood, then sank back down under the weight of her words. It felt like she was physically hurting him with everything she said. Like a nightmare. And his emotions were visible from how the water swirled around him. Her heart sank at the though of him losing control. Again.

>>”G-Get out...please...just...get out. I...I can’t think straight…”

Gemma froze. Should she? He wanted noting more than to go to him and comfort him. Except... she was the one who had done the damage. Probably the last thing he wanted was comfort from her. She bit her lips.

>>”...I can’t...think...with you here. Please...”

Gemma nodded and slowly stood up. Jorge didn't sound angry anymore, just... broken. And it broke her too. He wanted her to go so she would go, but it was the most painful thing she'd done in a long time. Tears still rolled down her cheeks as she looked back from the kitchen doorway.

"I'm sorry..." she said quietly. She wanted to go to him. To use her aura to calm his powers. But it wouldn't be fair. "I love you."

Gemma made it all the way to the first landing on the stairs outside the apartment, before she leaned against the wall and sank down, burying her face in her hands.