maskormenacelogs | Mas vale tarde que nunca

[Bianca is already fuming by the time she gets dropped off at her 'new home'. While this place might have all the fancy technology possible, it doesn't change the fact this place is backwards as heck and seems to think getting normal people from other universes to fight their wars is okay.

And being told she'll be a youth counselor now? For the 'at-risk' population? She's a nurse! Her experience with kids is mostly parenting and calming them down in the ER! That's an entirely different career from what she's used to!

She's still standing in front of the house debating on what to do next. She's very tempted to not even bother with the house at all for the moment and go walk off the anger, getting lost be damned.]

[Which is, of course, the precise moment that Alberto has chosen to walk out of the house to explore Heropa for any kind of answers to this confusing situation.

Well. He's certainly gotten one question cleared up: his wife is most definitely here.]

Bianca? [Berto nearly drops his cane when he catches sight of her, but recovers quickly, hustling over to her as quickly as he can.] Bianca! Are you all right? Do you have any idea what's going on here?

[And there's her husband. Now this has gone from 'fuming' to 'currently distracted'. It's much easier to tackle things with her husband here; they balance each other out. They're a team.]

Berto! [She goes part of the way to meet him, as much out of relief as to make sure he doesn't need to come over all of the way.]

Yes, I'm fine, and not really. Beyond that story that soldier spun while escorting me out of that place. I don't know how much of that we should believe. [She obviously doesn't hold that particular one in that much esteem given what she found out.] Are you?

[He won't say it, but he appreciates her moving forward a little faster than him. Berto doesn't exactly cut the figure of the colorful, super-powered Import, so he'd used it to his advantage. An inconspicuous middle-aged man taking a stroll down the street was, while harder on his bad leg than he'd ever like to admit, was a particularly handy way to get a feel for this Heropa was really like.

And it sure isn't Texas.]

All in one piece, so apart from being here at all, I'm fine, too.

[He frowns.]

This kind of adventure is more our son's thing, don't you think?

[They don't really talk about his injury for a variety of reasons, but it doesn't mean she forgets it's there. Walking over to him instead of making him come to her is one of the few things she can do.]

'Hello, here are your superpowers, now save the world'? I'm pretty sure it's exactly his thing. I wonder if they got us by mistake. [Now that's a lovely thought.]

Buy one, get two free. Heh.

[Probably not how it works. Ah, well-- they're here now, they may as well make the most of it.]

Though... that does mean that he may be here, too. Do you know if he is, Bianca? We have to find him if he is. Maybe he'll be able to explain better than the government.

It's not that funny. [She's calmed down enough that it's good natured, though.]

Well, I looked at that communicator thing they gave us, and gave it a try before you came out here [so everyone else's impression is of an unhappy Bianca] so I'm sure we'll find out sooner than later. If nothing else if we aren't the only ones from home maybe someone else will know our son.

And maybe. Who knows? [It would certainly be more comforting.]

I seriously doubt they'd pick up a couple of parents from El Paso for no reason. We're definitely not as exciting as the Blue Beetle, you know.

What else did you find out on that communicator, dear? [He pulls his own out, turning it on and flipping through the network. A whole lot of idle chatter. He's not used to this social media stuff, honestly...]

Maybe to others. [she says as she shrugs] You're plenty of excitement for me. [The kids aren't around. She's allowed to say that sort of thing.]

And well... [She pulls it out, tapping thoughtfully with her nails against its chassis, avoiding the screen. there was someone asking who knows how to use a sword here, and we're not the only ones who've just shown up. One man was here before.

[Bianca has an idea where the technology stuff is concerned, but mainly to make sure her kids aren't getting tangled in anything wrong. This device is more high tech than everything available back home.]

[He almost utters a 'behave' before he realizes that, indeed, neither of the kids are here-- he laughs, instead, breezily.] You really know how to flatter a man after all these years.

[He's peering over Bianca's shoulder rather than looking at his own device: she probably knows how to use it better than he does. He's not especially techy: never really has been.]

So people can go home, and we may or may not need a sword? Interesting.

[She shrugs, smiling.] It's why I ended up with you and Lilly didn't.

And don't even think about getting a sword. Wasn't the shotgun enough?

Hah! [wife, please....] Me and Lilly, could you imagine?

I doubt I could use a sword well enough, dear. You don't have to worry about that one. And...hopefully I won't have to use the shotgun often either.

No, because it didn't happen. [Thankfully.]

Hopefully you won't need a shotgun at all.

Shotgun and not my wife aside-- what are our next steps? It's clear we're going to be here for a while.

[The first confirmation changes everything, enough that after she replies Bianca pulls away from looking at the network setup on the communicator she's still learning how to use to immediately yell:]

Berto!

Jaime's here! He's here!

[Seeing his mother on the network had been enough to give him a heart attack, really. After all this time of telling people stories about his parents, hoping out loud that they'll never find themselves in a place as tumultuous as this, and now at least his mom is here? Now? He doesn't even listen long enough to hear for how long, or what his mom's saying (he can guess; she's not happy about being here, and may well be looking for him, Milagro, and his Dad), because he's not doing this on the network.

He's been home a couple times, sure, but it wasn't him. Not really. He's so different here from the way he was at home, been through so much more, that it feels like he hasn't seen his mother properly for well over a year now. He quickly tracks her down with the Scarab, only to see that she's now his next door neighbour.

Barely a minute elapses between seeing her on the network and barging in, because there's no way he's knocking at a time like this. He bowls into the room with the grace of a drunken gazelle, looking around with wide eyes.]

Mom?

[He's not expecting his father there too; he wasn't on the network, after all! But both Bianca and Alberto will be able to see that their son's changed. He's a year and a half older, and while he can't boast his height, he is broader, standing up straighter, a certain tiredness to his features that had been absent on his face when he was younger. For the most part, he's looking just fine -- but he's not the son that they left behind in El Paso, that's for sure.]

[There's a world of difference between people telling her Jaime's there and then getting even the smallest, shortest look at him in video.

And then the door opens, Jaime crashing through with all of his usual panicked flailing.

She barely bothers to take in the differences- her son is so much older- before she pulls him into a hug.]

Jaime!

Oh, mi hijo...

[And Alberto has seen even less. That little glimpse of Jaime on the network had been too quick for him to see directly: he's working on what Bianca has told him, and what little he's seen over her shoulder.

So his reaction, though slower, is much the same. Making his way forward, aided as always by his cane, Alberto stops to look at him. Jaime is broader, not much older but older enough that he can see it in his face-- all the worry he'll have in a few moments is pushed, temporarily, aside for singular relief.

His son's here. His son is safe.

Bianca has a few moments of Jaime to herself before Alberto follows, wrapping his arms around both of them.]

Jaime. Thank God, you're safe.

Dad?!

[Jaime had, of course, already sunk into the hug (and oh, he realizes, all of the people he's embraced over the past year and a half are people that he's loved, but nothing's like being hugged by his mother, and nothing feels so much like coming home after a long, long trip away), but he pulls back momentarily and readjusts himself to include his father in the embrace, hand reaching around to grab at his back.

He's in the middle of grasping at the fabric of his dad's shirt, one arm firmly around his mother when he feels ridiculously, absurdly like Ken when he's upset. He knows that that's the way Ken grounds himself too, but he doesn't care about feeling like a child, not right now. Right now, the important thing is that they're here, and even if he intellectually didn't want them here, there's no mistaking that song in his heart.

An absurd part of him wants to ask if they're okay, but he squashes the impulse down for now; he knows full well that the land is peaceful right now, and that the Porter never actually harms any of them. The only bad thing is that they're here, but at least they're here together.]

I'm okay. I am, I promise. [He lets out a breath that sounds like he's been holding it for a very, very long time. For once, he's lost for words.]

I can't believe you guys are here!

[They have so much to talk about... but maybe, this time, it can wait for just a little longer. This is the sort of moment that he's leaned on over the past year, the sort of memories that have kept him going no matter what this world has faced, and this time, he wants to enjoy it while it's here.]

[In spite of how much he's changed, Jaime, hand fisting in Alberto's shirt, is so much like he knows... and so much like he remembers. If he closes his eyes and pretends, it's as if the three of them aren't worlds away from El Paso.

But that's not reality. They aren't complete, either: Milagro's at home. Though there's no way that his daughter is alone-- if they hadn't missed Jaime all this time, it must've been something else, something like from the Bleed-- his little girl isn't with the three of them. At some point, they have to get home to Texas, and most importantly, to her.

Both his wife and son need him right now in the meantime. He squeezes Bianca's shoulder, and he rubs Jaime's back reassuringly.]

Neither can we. I'm glad we all found each other.

[The only thing they're missing is Milagro here, joining in on this family hug and possibly giving Jaime a hard time already in the way Bianca's little girl does when she's not trying to pretend her big brother really is one of the biggest parts of her world- but it's better this way, that she isn't here.

Bianca readjusts, slightly, to take a better look at her son, to take in the differences and the look in his face, his eyes.]

Jaime, how long have you been here?

[The words aren't demanding, in and of themselves, or particularly strong in tone. Just so very concerned about her eldest child, who has made enough friends here and has been here for long enough to have so many people know him well. He's clearly been here for some time, but it's a question she couldn't bring herself to ask anyone else.]

[Jaime disentangles himself from his parents too, and while they search his face, he searches theirs -- though in his case, he's simply noticing that they look exactly how he remembers them. He had confessed to someone, once, that he thought being here was the universe's way of making things right. He had left them for a year, and missed so much, came back to a family changed, and it was only fair that he had to go through the same thing. His case is different, of course, and better in so many ways - he's known this whole time that they were safe and sound, after all - but being at a remove, not being able to simply call them and share his life with them, felt like the scales balancing. They had to carry that feeling of absence around with them, and Jaime did too.

They're not here exactly a year after he got here, but for some reason, it still feels right.]

It's been about a year and a half. Maybe a little more.

[He doesn't quite keep track, but he's vaguely aware that it's closer to two years than it is one year. Once big things start to happen, the months seem to blur together; it's easy to lose track of time when the country seems to be trying to keep its head above water. He smiles at them both, and perhaps the expression is different, but the meaning of it is the same; it's as warm and genuine as ever.]

I know that it sounds like a long time, but it wasn't that bad, honest.

[Parts of it were, but the good parts evened it out. He's said before that if he could go back and make it so that he never came, he wouldn't do it, not in a million years. And no matter what happens, he stands by that.]

A year.

[--he repeats, incredulous. He's wondering somewhere in the back of his head the very same thing: that they're nearly even on lost time, now, Jaime's year-long dip into the Bleed falling into place with the year and a half he'd been here. To him, too, it feels fair, like some cosmic force tipping things back into balance.

But Jaime shouldn't have had to be alone, yet again; he was capable, but could've been a child for longer; his boy, tall before him, is far closer to a man than he'd been before. It's still a whirl of emotions and questions. But he'll just... have process how he's supposed to feel about that later. Now is for explanations and savoring the reunion he didn't know he'd need to have.

Alberto casts Bianca a tentative, sidelong glance. He knows his wife. Certainly, a year and a half's gap is a lot to take in, and she'll likely have all of the questions that he's interested in finding answers to on the tip of her tongue-- he'll let her handle that one when she gets to it, because he's going to go straight for continuing to smooth this strange transition over.]

You definitely look like you've handled it well. [Berto grins, the wrinkles in the corner of his eye showing through.] Did you get a little taller?

It looks that way, doesn't it? [She's standing near her son, not quite hovering, still mentally checking over everything in her head that she knows about her son, that she remembers, what's healthy for his age, and what's in front of her right now. One of the conversations on that network... 'I'm glad you guys are here to take care of him, too.']

Nearly two years. [It's murmured.]

Someone said you're learning how to drive.

Have you been eating well? Actual meals and not just fast food and dry cereal?

Maybe a little.

[Not enough to stop people from telling him how short he is, but, well, one look at his parents and his grandparents and he knows that height is not in his future. Not that it matters to him at all right now, not in this moment when he sees his parents slip back into their old routines. Of course his Dad is standing back, assessing things, and of course his mom is fussing about food, first thing.]

You must have talked to some of my friends by now, then. I've learned how to drive; I got my license and everything.

[He's been having a lot of fast food and dry cereal lately, but that's not the norm; when he's in mourning, cooking and eating regularly are the first two things to go.]

I know how to cook, and everything. I can even cook for you guys sometime. I know how to take care of myself now, I promise.

[There are so many small things he had to learn without them, things that he probably should have already known; he's now used to doing his own budget, to supplying the house with plenty of groceries, and doing his own laundry, and making sure everything's clean. It's all part of being an adult, he supposes.]

It's not that we don't trust you, Jaime. We're your parents. It's in our nature to worry.

[And in their nature to have definitely pried on the network, but that's neither here nor there.]

A good car? Nothing too fancy, eh? Just because you can drive doesn't mean you can pick up some fashionable thing you can't pay for. You know how many of those sports cars get wrecked right away.

[It's a bittersweet realization, that his son is growing older. But he's proud. He truly is.]

We knew you would be out on your own eventually. Just... not this soon.

Edited 2016-06-30 02:39 (UTC)

[To be fair, Bianca's mother didn't start off that tiny, she just shrunk a bit with age. But no, they weren't expecting their son to get all that tall. They aren't figuring it will happen with Milagro, for that matter. Bianca isn't, at least.]

Especially when you're out saving the day.

And 'some' is one way to put it. [So many people.] Someone became popular away from home.

[She focuses on her son, so grown up now, drastically so from seeing him earlier that day to her and her husband.] We're very proud of you, mijo. Have always been.

A bike, actually. Just enough to get me to work, and carry some of the groceries.

[Thank god he's not riding that rickety old thing he'd bought for himself way back when. Shepard and Kaidan better never tell his parents what he had been driving before they had gotten him a motorcycle for Christmas - because he's basically the most spoiled kid in this city, never mind the fact that he's of age now - but hey, at least he's safe now.

He's ready to say a little more, try to explain more to them, see if they're all right, if they have any questions, but Bianca stops him short. Somehow, she always does. They both do. He'd spent over a year wondering: What would they think of me now? Would they still be proud? Would they be upset with me?

They might still get upset with him. A couple of words exchanged hardly encompasses the changes he'd gone through over the past year and a half, but it means a lot anyway, more than it should, and he's hoping that if either of them notice that his smile's looking a little damp, they have the courtesy to not mention it.]

Thanks, ma. I, um... [His smile's a little crooked. Has he done okay? Has he really? It's so hard to know.]

Hope I did you guys proud.

[Especially with the amount he's talked about them to other people. God, they must have gotten bombarded. But unlike his view on himself, Jaime is absolutely sure that both managed to live up to others' expectations. No matter what, his parents seem to keep on keeping on.]

You have, Jaime. [He rests a comforting hand on his boy's shoulder. No longer a boy, really. Whatever he's encountered over the past couple of years that he's been here hardly matters: if this is his Jaime, he's done everything that he could, the best that he could. That's the way he raised him, and it's what he trusts this young man to be.] I promise you-- you have.

[With a chuckle, however, he squeezes Jaime's shoulder.]

Buying your own groceries, though, and working? We could barely get you to clean your room back home. How is work? [He won't needle him too badly about work-- living alone, he'd have done the same to get by--but he can't avoid this question for sure.] I hope you still plan to go back and finish your education, Jaime? School first.

A motorcycle? [She can't really be actually worried for Jaime on one, but there's still a reaction. She moves on.

Her husband's always been the one in the family who handles the stronger emotional turmoil, and she's the one who ropes the children in when they start misbehaving and fixing them up when they're sick or hurt. If Berto isn't going to say anything about the look on their son's face, she won't, either.]

Mi hijo, people don't come out of the woodwork to tell a stranger how wonderful a person someone that stranger knows is. [It was a bit overwhelming.]

Oh -- you did talk to them, [Jaime says, his laugh a little embarrassed. He's not sure how much his parents should take stock in his friends because, well, they're a little bit biased. Many are from places so torn apart that even someone as average as Jaime seems shockingly nice to them, he knows, when all he did was do what he was taught, be polite, be considerate, be normal. But he doesn't say any of that.

He's grateful for them. And he's more grateful still for the knowledge that if they spoke to his mother, that means they also offered their help, which is no small thing when push comes to shove. He knows firsthand that when they offer their help, the mean it with all their hearts.

Will his parents need it? He hopes not. But there's always that possibility. He looks a little uncomfortable once his father mentions school, though.]

I graduated high school. That's enough for here -- it won't carry over back home, anyway. I figured it was better to have cash instead, just in case. It's not like my savings crossed over either. [It's good, reasonable, rational thinking. He's also pretty sure it won't work, not with the way his dad beats the idea of education into his skull (his mom too, but she doesn't have the perk of the why, if I had those opportunities lectures), but he has to at least give it a good - heh - college try.]

I work at a garage now, actually. It, um, made sense. I'm good at it.

[Like father, like son... but that's exactly what Berto hadn't wanted.

Jaime hopes that they'll overlook it here of all places, this strange place trapped in time.]

[It's a tough call. As much as he wants Jaime to have what he couldn't, and to avoid the endless cycle of shift after shift after shift... what his son's saying makes sense. If it doesn't carry over, it might not even matter.

Except, jk, it does matter. That's yet another milestone that his boy has had without them. A look of doubt crosses his face, before, finally deciding on what to say, Alberto begins.]

I wish we could've been at your graduation.

[His mouth sets itself into a line.] That... is smart of you. But if you want to go back, you can. Your mother and I-- [he casts a sidelong glance at Bianca, even if this is a no-brainer, honestly,] we're here for you. And maybe, even if you're going part-time, it'll be easier to take the classes again once we're home, eh?

[He really cannot believe that he's considering Jaime not going back to school in any respect, but if he had his way, they'd be out of there sooner rather than later. This really is another universe.]

[Berto's always been the one who's stressed more about Jaime focusing on school and only school, to keep his grades up so he can go to college, and not worry about working yet.

She sets a hand on his elbow as he starts talking, before adding, once he's finished:]

It's not the end of the world.

[A reminder to them both, really. That by agreeing, Berto isn't letting his son follow his footsteps and not pursue a college degree. That Jaime not going to school here doesn't prevent him from doing so in the future.]

Besides, I bet you're busy with other things besides just that kind of work.

I am! I'm busy with a lot of things, [Jaime says, looking gratefully at his mother. This very reaction had been his dilemma when he was deciding what to do with his life -- heck, he even went to the network about it, asking them what they were doing, how to reconcile what you wanted to do back home with what you wound up doing here, defying expectations of people you may never get to see here.

He never did think that he'd see his parents here.]

I just -- I'm doing what's important to me, right now. [And that's not himself, his own brain, his own education; it's the people around him that he loves, and how he can help them, not in the future, but right now. In this place, there's no thinking ahead, no planning. All there is is the moment. Maybe his Dad is hoping that he'll go to school proper, but... he doesn't want to. Not yet, anyway.]

Lots is always happening here. [And as he says it, he's struck with the realization: lots is always happening here. Not all of it's good. Most of it isn't good. And here are his parents, stuck in the middle of it even more than they already were back home. He doesn't have to talk about that now, though, does he? It can wait, right?] Even people in school wind up skipping half their classes anyway.

[Jaime's more like his father than he knows.

The conflicting emotions are, in spite of Alberto's best efforts, still plain on his face. Jaime shouldn't have to deal with the same problems he had to; he should have it easier, should not be worrying about having to take care of anything or anyone but himself and his education.

But that'd all been thrown out the window from the moment that the Scarab had crawled its way onto his son's spine. Jaime may be his son, but he's also the Blue Beetle-- not a soldier, but a hero, something else entirely.]

Well. [he says finally, sighing. He has to fold. He can't disagree with any of the logic Jaime's laid out, not when he knows he'd be doing the same thing in his boy's shoes.] As long as you're safe, and taking care of yourself. And happy, of course. [And he may be older and a little more tired, but if he knows his son, Alberto knows that Jaime's happiest when taking care of the people he loves. Doing something important.]

I hope you have fewer space invasions to deal with here, but that's probably too much to ask.

Mas vale tarde que nunca

Berto

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Berto and Jaime

RUNS INTO THIS

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