Comm: Plastic Parent (Part 1)

Summary: A single mother is gearing up to reclaim her life, but developing shapeshifting abilities and becoming a superhero was not what she had in mind. Commissioned by super kaktus

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Monica was a year out from the conclusion of her chemotherapy treatment. Things were on the up and up for her, as the side effects were ebbing away, and she could finally return to a state of normalcy. Her hair was even growing back, though it was still much shorter than it was before; her blonde hair seemed paler than before, more ashen with streaks of white hair. 

Monica was in a weird headspace lately. It wasn't so long ago that she was making peace with the possibility that her illness would take her away from her friends and family. She found it ironic, in a bittersweet sense, that her condition brought her closer not only with her daughter, Danielle, and her estranged ex-husband Tom too. 

She felt especially thankful for her daughter, a wellspring of positivity and support, one worthy of admiration. Actually, she was on her way to pick her up, and deliver her to a beautification and wellness spa for a day of pampering—a present for one full year of graduating from chemo, and a celebration of life. 

Yet Monica felt a sense of trepidation, sitting on her front porch. Her body was not what it was before those scary years. Her doctor was clear that chemo's side effects could be just as rough as cancer itself, but she wasn't one to throw in the towel just because things were hard. Even then, it was anticipated that she would return to normalcy by now. And yet, her body remains racked with fatigue, her visage boney and frail. Her eyes look over the flowerbeds out front, which have gone so long without being attended to fully that weeds have taken root all over as well. 

She'd have to return to a sense of normalcy sooner than later, and take control of her own life soon. Once she had all her strength back. 

Vrrrrr... Monica's weary eyes widened as a silver sedan pulled to a stop in front of her home, before backing slowly into the driveaway. The driver's window rolled down, and a young woman's head poked out the side.

"Heyyyyy!~ Sorry " Danielle waved as she hopped out of the car and towards the porch. Monica reciprocated her bright, sunny smile as best as she could, reaching for her walking cane to support herself. 

She had hardly taken a step before Danielle had hurried to her side, and was already in the process of helping her down the short flight of steps. "Ah, thank you Danielle. You're too kind."

"Sorry I'm running late. Hit a duck crossing that went long." Danielle chuckled, guiding her moher along to the passenger side. "Excited for your spa day?"

"Truth be told, I don't really know what to expect." Monica stifled a chuckle. "I don't think I've been to one in... um, well, ever. I'm a little nervous, actually."

"Don't worry!" Danielle waved her hand. "It's your birthday! And one year chemo-free! Gotta celebrate in a big way, y'know?" 

"Mmhm... I guess it's just, well, a good feeling of nervousness. It's nice to get out of the house." She nodded mutedly. 

Monica tried to reciprocate Danielle's boundless enthusiasm, though in truth she felt pangs of guilt at the back of her mind. Since her diagnosis, and all through her subsequent treatment, Danielle was in her corner to help her with whatever she needed, and then some. She was worried about Danielle, though. To support an ailing family member demands considerable sacrifices—Monica learned through her ex-husband that she had dropped out of university to better take care of her, getting by on gig jobs and freelancing. 

Monica watched through the passenger view window, her mind drifting as they passed one stripmall after another. She certainly needed Danielle around in her current condition. Monica didn't want to be such a burden on her daughter. Surely she would have more time to pursue her future prospects if she didn't have to spend so many days in a week driving her mother everywhere. 

"Mom? Uhhh, we're here."

"...oh!" Monica realized, with Danielle's prodding, that the car had come to a complete stop, in front of a nondescript building. Her eyes rose to scan for distinguishing features, catching the logo. Was that Papyrus font...?

"'Natural Spa-lutions...'" Monica read aloud, before shuffling to take off her seatbelt and exit the vehicle. "Well, thank you Danielle. I'll check in with the receptionist."

"Sounds good!" Danielle smiled. "I'll swing by in a couple hours to pick you up. Do you need a hand getting up those stairs?"

"N-no, I'll be alright." Monica smiled. "The doctor says it's important to get some exercise on my own, and reacclimate to getting around."

"Right! Right. Sorry." Danielle nodded, rubbing her neck. "You got this. Don't get into too much trouble!"

Monica waved goodbye as Danielle pulled out and back onto the road. Monica turned towards the spa, cane in hand as she approached, taking it one careful step at a time.

A spa day... Well, a little siesta never hurt anyone. She smiled to herself, her trepidation giving way to an unspoken excitement. 

---

The first stop on the spa package was a luxurious mud bath which, according to the brochure, was infused with beautifying minerals to enhance the lustre of the skin. Monica didn't feel comfortable going in nude. Thankfully she had brought a spare two-piece swimsuit; Danielle warned her to bring something she wouldn't miss, to avoid staining something she really liked with mud. 

She eyed the bubbling mud with hesitation, her foot hovering slowly over the surface. She tested it with the tip of her toe, before sliding into the tub entirely. She pursed her lips as she lowered her body, allowing the mud to come up to her shoulders. It was as hot as a jacuzzi, and her skin tingled excitedly.

"Must be some fast acting minerals," Monica murmured to herself. She leaned her head back as she relaxed, letting out a sigh of satisfaction. 

She couldn't put her finger on it, but her worries seemed to wash away all at once. It felt like the mud had wrapped around her, like a cocoon, squeezing her body tenderly in a full-body hug. She raised her arm, admiring the chocolatey texture of the mud coating her skin; she felt her body buzz with a strange energy. 

Monica lowered her arm, and allowed herself to sink deeper into the pool. She breathed deeply as she nodded off. She was so worried about going to the spa, and dressing herself down in front of strangers, but now that she was here, she didn't want to be anywhere else. 

She closed her eyes and nodded off. As her mental defences yielded, her body followed suit; unbeknownst to her, her pores were opening wide as the mud began to flow into her body in slow, undulating waves. She stirred, a wide smile crossing her lips as her body hungrily absorbed the mud surrounding her. 

Her frail, skinny profile swelled to become more well-rounded. She crossed her legs, purring as her thickening thighs brushed against each other. She remained oblivious to the changes washing over her body as small ripples of mud coalesced towards her figure. Underneath layers of mud, her hair grew subtly longer and healthier, minerals infusing with her scalp. 

The only sign that something seemed amiss with her figure was a tightness in her chest. She grimaced, stirring awake as she glanced down at her chest. She tugged at the straps of her bra, wincing in discomfort.

"So tight..." Monica moaned. She felt the same tightness around her hips. Maybe they shrunk in the mud... the mud?

"Huh??"

Monica glanced around her, only to find herself in an empty tub. There was no sign of the mineral-infused mud that she was residing in! Was it all a dream? 

Soon thereafter, an attendant arrived, noticing the apparent state of the tub, and offered to show her to a different mud spa. Monica hesitated, and ultimately declined, raising an arm to her chest, perhaps to protect her modesty. She requested to move onto the next part of the spa package, and hurriedly climbed out of the tub on her own, her skin subtly peeling away from the padded contours of the tub.. She tried to dab herself off with a towel, but she was already dry; if anything, she was a little sticky... 

Feeling a wave of self-consciousness coming on, she was eager to move on, the attendant had stopped her, presenting the walking cane that she had left behind. Monia stared at it, then examined herself with a cursory glance; had she climbed out of the tub all on her own? And so naturally at that... she muttered a 'thank you' and took the cane, carrying it with her... but strangely, not putting it to use. 

---

Monica had the creeping suspicion that something was off. A niggling worry at the back of her mind that prevented her from relaxing wholly at the spa (which was really the whole point of going there!!); when she was getting a massage, the masseuse seemed to be pressing deeper into her core, her body yielding more to each press. Stranger still, the heat spread through her body more. She rather liked the sensation of her body being stretched and pulled, but there was something she found offputting with her body yielding under the man's grip. 

She turned her head, asking if they could stop early; she hadn't realized at the time that her head swivelled almost 180 degrees, and with hardly any resistance. The man gawked, before nodding, stepping away. 

Monica spent the remaining thirty minutes in the reception, waiting for her daughter to swing by again. She fidgeted to herself the whole time, her palms squeaking oddly as she rubbed them together. 

She stared out the nearest window; when she spotted Danielle's sedan, she hurried out the front door, walking cane in hand, though not in use. Danielle was surprised when her mother was already sliding into the passenger side.

"Whoa, Mom!" Daniella gasped. "That's some glow up, huh? You look gorgeous!"

"Th-thank you." Monica blushed, tossing her cane in the backseat. "But I would like to go home now."

"Too much excitement? I hear ya." Danielle pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the road. "I'll drop you off at home, but I got a bit more running around. Got a date tonight!~" 

"Oh, with that Randy fellow." Monica nodded. "Where are you two headed?"

"The baseball game! Go Barrelers!~" Danielle pumped her fist lightly with that trademark iridescent grin. Monica reciprocated awkwardly, her attention focused on the strange feedback her body was giving her. She squeezed her arm and relaxed, finding her tight grip had left a hand-shaped impression on her skin...

"!!" Monica stifled a gasp and brushed her arm as if to smooth it out. That worked, somehow...

"Hey mom, did the spa get you on a new skincare routine?" Danielle glanced over. "It's, like, positively glowing. You'd get a lot of attention from the guys with your new look; you look fantastic!"

"Ah, well, it's..." Monica lowered her arms. "It's certainly different." 

"Heck, you might be ready to charge back onto the dating scene!" Danielle chimed in.

"Dating??" Monica's eyes widened, her whole body turning (while letting off a quiet squeak in the process). "Danielle, I'm not so sure I'm ready for that-"

"Tell you what: once I'm done with my date, I'll come over and we can set up some online dating profiles. Take things slow at first." Danielle turned into her mom's driveway. "Don't wanna matchmake you with some hapless sleazebag, y'know-"

"Thanks for the ride, sweetheart!" Monica was practically jumping out the passenger door, before Danielle could come to a complete stop. "Have fun on your date!!"

"Uh??" Danielle paused. She spotted her mother's walking cane, still in the backseat. "Hey, Mom, you forgot your-"

She paused, spotting her mom clear the three steps leading up to the front door in a single bound, slipping inside not long after.

"Wow, she's fast on her feet." Danielle whistled, before putting the car into reverse and pulling out...

---

Now that Monica was alone, she could finally relax. She found it a little ironic that she fled so eagerly from the spa, the place to relax, to come home. But there were so many strange things going on with her body.

She paced to the closest washroom to examine herself in the mirror. Her eyes widened. It was like looking into the reflection of an entirely different person! Her hair was so thick and luscious, her skin so soft and free of blemishes, her eyes practically sparkling. She was the spitting image of health! 

She caressed her cheek as she stared at herself dreamily... only for that telltale squeak punctuating her subtle movement. She pouted, recoiling her hand. She needed a distraction from whatever the hell was going on. Maybe yoga. Something involving meditation. 

She put on her favourite sweats, cleared some space in the living room, laid down her mat, and performed some warm-up stretches. Her body was usually so stiff that just warming up was enough to exhaust her for an hour. But she felt looser, more limber today; she performed the basic stretches and hardly broke a sweat. 

Monica was emboldened enough to try some of the more difficult yoga poses. 

She outstretched her left arm and leaned forward, balancing on her left leg as her right hand grasped her elegantly curved raised leg behind her. She held the king dancer pose, focusing on her breathing. She was holding it! She was doing a real yoga thing!

Her elation was such that she began to bounce on the heel currently supporting her entire weight. Her body went flush with heat pulsing from her core, extending to her extremities... she felt her knee shake as its solidity ebbed away, until...

...Shlurk. Her knee bent in an awkward way, and her body collapsed to the floor. She grunted, her face planting into the yoga mat.

"Ughh..." She groaned, peeling her face from the mat. She felt around her facial features, her perspective oddly twisted. She tried to push herself off the floor, but it was suddenly quite difficult to summon the requisite strength,

She felt a strange tugging sensation along her extremities. It was then that she looked down, and found her arms and her legs stretching into ropey, boneless lengths, curling along the floor and flopping about, seemingly of their own accord.

"Wh-what the heck!?" She cried out, her body suddenly jerking to life on its own. She tried to jump to her feet, only for her torso to be carried upwards on rapidly extending legs. Her face collided with the ceiling, before she crumpled into a heap once again, her various limbs continuing to stretch and coil on their own. 

Without much control over her legs, she crawled and slithered her way back to the bathroom, to gawk at herself in the mirror. She gasped at her dumbfounded expression, her face smushed flat as a pancake! It was like she was some bloody cartoon! She pressed and groped her face, trying to smoosh it back together.

She felt herself hyperventilating, and she shut her eyes forcefully. She remembered her lessons with her support worker during times of spiking anxiety. She had to clear her mind. Focus on a single spec. Trace a circle in her mind. She hurriedly zipped through various mental exercises, trying to ignore the sensation of her hands and feet dragging along the floor. 

There was a subtle bwoop noise. She opened her eyes, and to her surprise... she was normal again! Well, her new normal, with her perfect skin and well-proportions figure. She had a body as perfect as any supermodel... though the Picasso-esque horror show she had witnessed gave Monica pause to the 'perfect' descriptor. 

Her trembling fingers reached for her cheeks. She tugged, and felt them stretch from her face, draping like tents. She let go, and her extended cheeks slapped back, no worse for wear. She clutched her head, and pulled, watching as her neck elongated before her very eyes. 

She let go, her head slamming back down in place, her shoulders wobbling with an almost gelatinous quality to them. She continued to poke and prod herself in the mirror—bending her joints well beyond what they were normally capable of bending, twisting her head 180, 270, past 360 degrees around, gawking at the tensed folds of skin around her neckline. She pulled her fingers to noodly lengths, watching them dangle before they zipped back to their proper lengths; she reflexively bent her finger, now no worse for wear. 

"This is... so strange." Monica murmured to herself. She wondered what was the cause of these strange, elastic powers. She had something to do with that mudbath, all those minerals soaking in through her pores, but people don't just turn into rubber in a matter of a couple hours, right? Was it magic? Some allergic reaction with her body? Mess up genetics? Maybe more long-term chemo side effects...?

She wondered before if she was ready to embrace a new normal life, but this condition was far beyond any normal person. It was a lot to grapple with...

Monica was baffled. She struggled to process what was happening. Should she take this secret to the grave? Should she confide in her daughter? Should she seek her physician? Oh, but what if she was made into some vile lab experiment? The uncertainty was killing her.

Monica was getting flustered, and her body was heating up in turn. For whatever reason, she felt all the more susceptible to changes in temperature; she felt looser, less rigid. She tried to fan herself with the palm of her hand, which seemed to do the trick...

...Which made it all the stranger that her hand had morphed into the shape of a flat fan! Her fingers had merged together into a single appendage, before flattening out into a flat shape twice the size of her head. Monica gasped, waving her hand frantically, and watched  as it curled back into itself, splitting into five digits once more. She watched her hand reform, and reflexively tensed and relaxed her palm, as if to test that what she was seeing was real. 

"Oh my gosh..." She muttered to herself. Her terror was shifting to mesmerization, and now curiosity. What else was her body capable of...?