Logs: Bobby returns home when Scott does...

[x-coldhands.livejournal.com]

And gets a bit of a surprise for his welcome home. Terry waits in his suite to tell him what happened between her and Manuel. Monday, around 5:30ish.


Terry chewed on a lock of her hair, not sure what she was going to do. Her stomach was twisted into knots and she felt vaguely sick. She had to tell Bobby what she'd done but how she was going to do so without having a breakdown was another matter entirely. She practiced nervous speeches but none of them seemed good enough. She whispered one to herself as she watched the door, determined to tell him as soon as he
came back so that at least she wasn't hiding anything from him.

Bobby trudged up to his room, tired and emotionally wrung out after the last week. He still hadn't managed to get much rest, what with worrying about Scott and keeping Jean company, and all he really wanted to do was crash and sleep for about a day and a half. After seeing Terry, of course. The thought of her conjured a grin and he quickened his pace, heading up to his room to dump the overnight bag he'd filled with the stuff he'd ended up buying in Seattle, not having exactly planned on a week's trip. Then it was off to find Terry. He threw the door of the suite open and called out, "Hey, Ang--you here?
Bobby's home!"

Terry bolted to her feet, yanking her hair away from her mouth, eyes wide. "He's, um...he's not here right now." She stopped, biting her lip as she looked at him. Her heart ached all over again for what she'd done. She couldn't do this to him right now, not after the week he'd had. Her carefully planned speech crumbled. "Hi."

"Terry!" Bobby's face lit up and he dropped his bag by the door, holding his arms out to her as he walked toward her. "God, you're a sight for sore eyes."

Hating herself for it, she stepped forward to meet him, letting him fold her into an embrace. She'd tell him in a minute. She didn't have to ruin his homecoming right away... She clung to him tightly, looking up at him. "I love you. How...how was your week?"

"Ugh. Long. But Scott's...mostly okay." Except for the loss of an eye, of course. No big deal. Bobby sighed, rubbing her back. "I'm just glad I'm home. I missed you so much--I was half tempted to email Clarice and ask her to bring you out here."

"I wish I'd never gone at all." It was a perfect opening but she couldn't bring herself to pull away. Instead she hugged him tighter, head against his chest so he couldn't see that she was about to cry. "I was worried. The news reports were really terrifying."

The riots themselves had pretty much faded to a blurry whirlwind of exhausting activity in Bobby's mind by that point. "Yeah, well--being out in the middle of it? Really no less terrifying." He took a deep breath and sighed contentedly, playing with her hair and then trying to pry her gently away from him a bit. "Hey, so do I get a 'welcome home' kiss?"

She choked on a sob and looked up at him slowly. "You might not want one," she said quietly, knowing she couldn't avoid it any longer.

"...Huh?" Bobby brushed her cheek with his fingers, frowning with concern. "What's wrong, hon?"

She pulled away, wrapping her arms around herself, unable to meet his eyes. "I...you know I love you. And I swear, I didn't do this on purpose but..." Her heart was beating fast enough that she was starting to feel lightheaded. "in Seattle? I... Manuel and I... got
really drunk and...messed around some."

Bobby went cold, a strange feeling for him. "You--" He blinked, praying he had misunderstood. "What do you mean, you 'messed around'?" His stomach was tying itself in slow knots as he watched her.

She huddled in on herself, shoulders hunched, still looking anywhere except him. "I didn't have sex with him but..." Her shoulders barely moved in a miserable shrug. "I don't really remember much." Or hadn't until Manuel had forced her to remember but she was trying to forget that too.

Bobby took a step back, eyes wide and hurt. "You--" He turned to the side, shaking his head and muttering, "This isn't happening."

"Bobby, I’m sorry, I swear it was just a stupid mistake and it'll never happen again." She finally looked at him, panicked and earnest. "I love you. I know I'm an idiot but I didn't do it on purpose and I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been drinking. You have to believe me."

He spun to face her, eyes flashing. "Then what the fuck were you doing drinking, Terry? What do you expect me to do, huh? Just shrug it off, because you were drunk?" He was yelling, but he couldn't stop. This HURT.

"I was upset! I know, it's not an excuse. But I was stuck in the hotel and Manuel was there and playing cards was better than worrying about what was going on out in the city." She bit her lip, reminding herself that he had every right to yell. "I don't expect you to shrug it off. But I thought I should tell you instead of trying to hide it. You know me, Bobby. You know I'm not like this and it was just a mistake. I'd take it back if I could. Please, you have to believe me." Terry didn't, normally, condone begging. She was prepared to beg on bended knee if it helped.

"I think you should leave," Bobby replied quietly, flatly, looking away from her and fighting the urge to wrap his arms around his stomach, which was starting to hurt.

Her eyes went wide and the tears that had been threatening spilled over. "Are you breaking up with me?" This couldn't be happening. It had to be a bad dream or something. "Bobby, please. I'm sorry. I swear, it was just a dumb mistake and it's never going to happen again."

Bobby closed his eyes, blocking out the sight of her tears. "Just leave, Terry," he said softly. "Leave me alone."

A small broken sound escaped her throat and she stepped forward quickly, wrapping her hands around his arm desperately. "No. Please don’t do this. There's got to be something I can do to fix this. I'll do anything just please don't."

Bobby jerked away from her touch, shaking his head. He had nothing more to say, not to her. Not right now.

She stared at him, heartbroken and horrified and wishing she'd lied. Then covering another sob, she whirled and ran out of the suite, slamming the door in her haste to leave.

Bobby folded to the floor right where he stood, burying his face in his hands. Could the week get any worse?

A while later, Angelo comes back to find his roommate home and moping. Bobby tells him why, and appoints Angelo 'door guard'.


Bobby'd sat in the same place for about ten minutes after Terry left, then managed to make the monumental effort of standing up and walking to his bedroom. He looked around without turning on the light, tugged the blanket down on his bed, kicked off his shoes and crawled into bed, leaving the door ajar and his bag out where Angelo would practically trip over it when he came back. But he couldn't bring himself to care. He just kept thinking, over and over, How could she do it?

Angelo did, indeed, stumble over the bag. He blinked down at it for a moment, confused. "Bobby?"

"Unh," Bobby replied, just loud enough to be heard in the other room.

"You asleep?"

"Nah." Bobby sighed and sat up, figuring Angelo would probably want to know what's going on. Roommate privelege, and all. But Angelo could come to him--he had no desire to leave his bed. Like, ever again, really.

"Didn't wake you up, did I?" He walked tentatively towards the room.

"No." Bobby was getting a bit more coherent with each monosyllabic answer, at least. "I cannot believe how much this past week has sucked," he added, as Angelo appeared in the doorway.

"Tell me about it. So much for us ever gettin' a nice peaceful field trip."

"Oh. Yeah, that too." Bobby let his head fall against the wall with a small thump. "Apparently the rioters weren't the only thing heating things up in Seattle last week." While he'd been out saving people, she'd done it! How could she??

Angelo blinked, still more confused. "Huh?"

Bobby closed his eyes and said in an almost singsong voice, the only way he could say it without his voice breaking, "Terry and Manuel got drunk and messed around during the riots."

"...they what?"

"They didn't have sex...which I guess is supposed to make it all okay." Bobby took a shaky breath and looked at Angelo, hurt and angry. "I don't understand how she could...while I was out there rescuing people, stopping looters..."

"Me either. Did she tell you herself?"

"Yeah. That was my welcome home--her waiting here to drop that little bomb on me. As I come home from a week of hanging out in hospitals, keeping Scott company..."

Angelo winced. "Sorry, man."

Bobby shrugged and lay down again. "What can you do?" He stared up at the ceiling. "Hey, I don't really feel like talking to anyone for a couple of days, if you wouldn't mind running interference."

"That I can do. You just lock yourself in here when I'm out."

"Thanks, man. Appreciate it." Bobby sighed again and rolled onto his side, staring at the wall. "I'm gonna take a nap, I think. Kinda tired."

Angelo nodded. "Okay. Try an' sleep well."

"Thanks." Bobby closed his eyes, listening for the door to close so he could get back to moping in peace. How could she do it?