Mutant Multiverse

Admittedly, living on his own had been difficult to navigate. Jerry had the knowledge of the older version of himself that he'd been thrust into, but that didn't mean he understood all of it. He was pretty okay at budgeting by now, but not super great at picking good places to live or recognizing that certain neighborhoods were a lot less safe than others.

Though... Jerry also wasn't sure this wasn't a mistake.

He didn't exactly have a lot of possessions in this new world. Mostly clothes which he'd tossed into a bag and slung over his shoulder, and a box full of rocks, books, more rocks, some trading cards and- you guessed it! Rocks. Well, at least there were things about him that hadn't changed. He wandered up the steps to his mothers new address, chewing his lip awkwardly. Did she really want him here? He certainly wasn't the child she'd been searching for. Should he knock? Was he a stranger now? Was this... were they forcing this? And what if the public found out that she had a mutant living with her? It was a lot to take in.

Victoria could sense the building tension from beyond the door, poking her head up from what she was doing. She had just finished moving everything even remotely feminine or childlike from Jerry’s room. It had certainly taken her longer to finish this task, what with the increase in disasters in her city. But she had done all that she could in regards to that for the time being.

She made her way downstairs and opened the door before Jerry coupe decide if he wanted to knock or not, beaming at her son. Today she was dressed far more casually, in a pair of worn dark denim jeans, Keds, and a grey Stanford t-shirt. She was also was covered in paint, her usually immaculately put together face boasted a streak of it under on eye.

“Jerry, I’m so glad you’re here. Perfect timing, I just finished setting up your bed. Come in, come in,” and she would open the door wider, moving to the side in what she hoped was a welcoming gesture.

“I’m so glad you decided to come home,” she added as she shut the door behind him.

The house, as previously described, was a two story Tudor style. It was one of the older houses in Seattle and certainly smelled of it, but in a pleasant way. They now stood in a foyer with a rich mahogany staircase going up to the second floor. The kitchen was off straight ahead through a hallway, with an adjoining dining room. To the left was a living area down another hall, and to the right was another hall leading to her study/office.

Upstairs boasted three bedrooms, hers, Jerry’s, and a guest room. The guest room and Jerry’s shared a full bath, and her room has a private bathroom.

Thankfully the choice was taken out of Jerry's hands, and he felt his shoulders lose a little bit of tension as he looked at his mother in the doorway. Okay... alright. She'd asked him to be here, it wasn't out of some sense of responsibility. They'd get over whatever hurdles were on the way.

Jerry stepped over the threshold, eyes wandering immediately. Something about the house just felt... very mom, and that was nice. Really nice. "You still don't do anything half assed," he said with a little laugh, before realizing that... right. His mother probably wasn't going to be used to filthy words coming out of his mouth! Well. Here was a hurdle. He was anxious to see his room, expecting it to be the way he'd left it. Don't get him wrong, he'd loved parts of it, but he was also afraid that if it was still the same, he'd feel too anxious to change it up and break his mothers expectations. He climbed the stairs, Victoria free to follow him. He wanted to get rid of this heavy box of rocks!

"Which door?" he called back, wanting to see it and move on.

Victoria chuckled at that and reached into her pocket, producing two keys for him as well as a keychain adorned with dangling rocks. It looked handmade. “Here, I had a set made for you once I bought the house. I wasn’t sure I would ever have the opportunity to give them to you,” and she would walk up to him and hold them out, obviously nervous as well.

“Of course not, dear. I may not have as much free time these days but I will always do my best for you. I want this place to feel like your home because it is,” her eyes narrowed slightly, but they twinkled at him. “No swearing like that in front of the press. I can promise you won’t be around them very much but, if I win this Mayoral seat, they will be wanting to interview you at that clinic of yours.” And that was that.

While she wasn’t much for swearing, she wasn’t going to try and force him to live by her own rules. Not when he was legally an adult now.

“It’s the second door up the stairs,” she said, moving to follow him up.

Once he reached his room and went inside, he would find it full of warm browns and various shades of greys. It was definitely a room for a young adult, warm wooden panel walls and metallic grey shelves. Lots and lots of shelves, all empty. The dressers were a rich forest green, and the shades in front of the windows were thick and black.

“I, um, remember how much you used to hate the light coming in. So those are blackout curtains. Not that it will be very light outside for much longer,” since the Pacific Northwest was entering the dark, wet months, “I... I wasn’t sure your style so I thought something neutral and... masculine would be an easy template to work with. I also... took it upon myself to grab you some clothes I believe are in your size. It will be getting cold soon and I want I make sure you will be warm enough. They’re in the closet over there,” and she gestured to the darker wood door across from the Queen sized bed. The bed itself didn’t have a headboard and was propped up on a box spring, the frame made of onyx painted wood and drawers for storage underneath.

If he looked inside the closet he would find flannels and plaid shirts in medium to dark greens, blues, yellows, reds, essentially some in every color and shade. Along with three Columbia rain jackets in yellow, dark blue, and dark green. And three winter jackets, also Columbia, in dark blue, dark green, and black.

“Just some things to start you out with. We- we can also go shopping or hire an interior decorator if you don’t like it. I’d also like to get you into a tailor so we can get you some suits for any public events,” Victoria wrung her hands together in front of her stomach, worrying her lower lip, “of course, I will do my best to limit any time you must be in the spotlight with me. However, it is not completely avoidable. I don’t wish the city to think I’m ashamed of you.”

That rock keychain was absolutely going to live it's best life at his side. Every tiny little detail that his mother had thought about offered him a sort of warmth he hadn't felt in a while. He'd missed being surrounded by her love. It had been what kept him from crumbling under his own mutation over the years. "Sorry momma," he said with a grin as she suggested he watch his mouth in front of press. "Turns out doctors have really foul mouths, might've picked a few things up. I'll do my best."

He didn't doubt for a second that she would wind up winning, but he wasn't gonna jinx it. Instead he walked into the mentioned room, and... paused. Wait. Really? The grin that he had worn earlier spread even further, turned warmer. Jerry's eyes swept over the room like he was taking a long drink after searching for days for water. Everything he'd been worried about had been taken care of, probably before he'd even had a chance to worry. He felt his eyes sting with emotion, and he swallowed to pull it all back in.

As his mother fretted over whether or not he liked it, Jerry was setting down his box. He turned and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, burying his face against her shoulder. God, how could he ask for a better mother? "It's great, momma," he mumbled, taking a deep breath. "It's... Thank you." For so, so many things. This was just the cherry on top. "I'm so lucky to have a mom like you, you know? I'll go to any fancy party you need." Victoria was the sort of leader people could look up to, hold faith in.

Victoria simply beamed, having waited half a year to hear her child call her momma again. The voice may have changed but the inflection had not.

“It’s quite all right. You’re not a child anymore,” she said with a wry smile.

The hug caught her off hard, knocking her back a half step and causing her body to instinctually stiffen. She immediately relaxed, wrapping her arms around him and placing a kiss to the side of his head.

“Anything for you, my darling boy. You know I didn’t truly have parents growing up and... I may not have had a lot of help but I’ve always tried to do right by you...” she trailed off, hugging him a little tighter. “I’m not sure I always succeeded. Especially in regards to your father.” She sighed a bit heavily, pulling away from him.

“I’m glad, dearest, that you are willing to come with me. But I’m afraid there are some things we need to discuss. One of them being your... father. I’m sure you’ve noticed his absence.”

It wasn't like Jerry had a lot of hope when he came through. He'd thought that maybe his mother was gone. Then he'd seen her running for office and had spent months dragging his feet slowly towards her. Who knew how much longer he might have taken if they hadn't been sort of thrown together in the mall? Now he was beating himself up for that.

At first he worried that the hug was unwanted, but his mother returned it after that pause and all felt right in the world. "You've always been good to me." It wasn't something to placate her. Jerry was incredibly lucky to have been brought into the arms of a woman who loved him, especially his true self. His father, on the other hand...

"I have noticed," he confirmed, sounding nervous. "Does uh... does he know?" That she'd found him? That Jerry was a much different version of himself now? "Is he..." Did he leave? Did he die? There were a thousand possibilities. Jerry wouldn't be terribly hurt either way. His relationship with his father had always been a little strained. He couldn't imagine that it would be any better now.

The older woman grabbed his hand and pulled him by it over to his bed (which was ultra super deluxe memory foam, the perfect combination of soft and firm) and she would sit them both down. Her smaller hands hand one of his, and she stared down at them and noted the size difference.

She felt a pang of something before she gathered herself up, spine straightening, so she could look him in the eyes.

“He only found out recently but... oh, honey, they say he had a heart attack,” she said gently, her eyes strangely guarded and almost distant. Yet as they tracked his face, they softened. She steeled herself again, ready to face whatever reaction he felt appropriate.

“He... wasn’t planning on being supportive or even being in your life anymore. He left me for his first wife, who in our time had died young, but here she had lost a version of them. He found her a week after we came over, and then he dragged it out for another few weeks before he left me,” she went on, tears stinging her eyes. Yet she didn’t seem particularly sad, if anything it was the sting of a bruised ego.

“We had only just signed the divorce papers a few days before I found,” she explained, giving his hand a good squeeze from both of hers. “I’m sorry, dearest. He never wanted to be your father, and I’m beginning to see now he never wanted to be my husband. But..” she leaned against him, whispering gently, “I have always wanted to be your mother.”

One hand removed itself to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him in closer.

“We’ll be fine without him, my sweet boy. We were too good for him anyway,” Victoria said with a watery laugh, giving him another side hug as she leant her head down onto his shoulder.

A heart attack? Jerry felt almost like he'd been robbed if he was being honest. On the one side, that meant he wasn't going to get to confront his father about anything that he'd done wrong before Jerry had even reached this point in his life. He was a mixture of angry and... relieved? Was it messed up to feel that?

"Well, I guess that's that then," he hummed with a little shrug, tilting his head so he could rest his cheek against the top of Victoria's hair. "Ugh at least we won't have to deal with his stupid mouth anymore." There was that! Jerry had often wondered what his mother had seen in the man, though he'd never voiced that and never would.

For a moment he just let it all sink in, let himself enjoy the moment. And then he was huffing, standing up and rubbing his hands together. "Hey, guess who knows how to cook now? And not mud pies, like, real food. You hungry? I feel like we could use some dinner and a movie." Honestly, Jerry was eager to get back into feeling normal. It was going to take some time for the both of them, but hopefully not terribly long. He wanted to show his mother that, y'know. He was still the same person, just older.

“It’s okay to feel however you’re feeling,” she reassured, her tone a cup of warm spicy hot chocolate, topped with just a dash of cinnamon.

“No, we will not. I promise if I do ever... find someone to join our family, they will never speak to you the way your father sometimes...” she trailed off, not wanting to relive her ex-husband’s sometime verbal abuse.

He hasn’t been the worst but he definitely hadn’t been the best. And this only had gotten worse with age and drinking.

Victoria blinked up at him, surprised by the sudden shift. It was that easy? she thought to herself.

Well, perhaps she raised a much more well adjusted child than she had thought. Her smile was tremulous and slow, but it blossomed in the wake of his excitement and need to keep going.

“Why don’t you cook me your favorite meal to make and we can watch... something for Halloween,” Victoria suggested, her smile hesitant at her own suggestion.