xp_logs | Thursday afternoon, Terry/Bobby

After getting Bobby's email, Terry goes to Bobby's suite to see what he wanted. Bobby tells her about Jean. Terry doesn't take it well.

Bobby was curled up on the couch, a pillow hugged to his chest, waiting. Waiting for Terry to get out of class so he can break her heart. But Scott's words kept echoing in his mind, we all do what we have to do. This was one of those things he had to do, and there was no justification for putting it off that made doing so okay. Even if it killed him to lose her, he owed her the truth. Besides, she knew something was wrong, and was probably blaming herself for it, he realized abruptly, and groaned. Yeah, this was definitely the right thing, no matter how many backflips his stomach was doing.

He glanced at the clock and started chewing nervously on the pad of his thumb. Any minute now. Classes were over, she'd probably check her email when she got back to her room...she could be knocking any time. Or if the universe was truly cruel, she wouldn't bother with her email, just rush off to another obligation, and he could sit here for another two hours when he was supposed to be at work, stomach acid creeping up his esophagus, sour and burning, waiting on the edge of a knife.

'We need to talk' was the most evil sentence in the universe. Seeing it in Bobby's email had turned her so pale that Clarice had actually stopped in her mad rush to change into her gym clothes and asked what was wrong. Terry's 'nothing' had been rather weak but what else could she say?

Her stomach as still knotted as she knocked on the door to Bobby's and Angelo's suite, a small part of her holding out the hope that this was all needless worry; that nothing was really wrong and she could laugh at herself for blowing it all out of proportion. After all, they were getting over the bad stuff, right? They'd got through the last month and they were working on getting back together. He wanted her around…even if he didn't really touch her the same way anymore. Terry sometimes felt like he thought she would break. Other times is was like he couldn't bear to touch her at all. Not quite a sister but…

Even though he'd been waiting for the knock, it still made Bobby jump. He took a deep breath and stood, abandoning the pillow as he went to the door. "...Hey," he said with a weak smile as he opened it and saw her standing there. God, this was going to be so hard.

He held out his arms to her, needing a hug before he did this, trying not to think of it as their last. They could get through this, right? Somehow? Please, god.

The look on his face wasn't helping at all. Terry flung herself into his arms, eyes closed just so that she wouldn't have to look at him. If she couldn't see it then maybe it would hurt so much. Willful blindness. "Hi," she whispered with her head on his shoulder. He was going to tell her it was over. The sick certainty of it made her cling all the more. Just a little bit longer, please.

It wasn't easy, but Bobby gradually loosened his hold on her, rubbing her back comfortingly one last time before letting his arms fall away. "Come sit down," he suggested, reaching for her hand to lead her to the couch. "...I have to tell you something." And oh boy, are you not going to like it.

Terry tried not to clutch at his hand as they sat down. Her heart was pounding and she rubbed at her chest as though that would calm it. "What's wrong?"

"Um. Something happened last week. While I was in Boston." He couldn't look at her face, so he stared at their clasped hands, his pulse feeling fast and fluttery, making him lightheaded. "Y'know how Scott flipped out on Monday?"

Terry nodded slowly, not seeing where he was going with this. "I asked around some but I couldn't find anyone who knew what was going on. Is he okay? Did something happen?"

Bobby flinched, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I happened," he whispered. No, she deserved to be looked in the eye when he said the next part. He looked up, seeing her fear and worry, and licked his lips. "...I slept with Dr. Grey." The words nearly stuck in his throat, but they finally tumbled out, hoarse and laced with regret and pain...and a healthy dose of fear. His hand tightened on Terry's, silently begging her to somehow not hate him, not leave him.

Shock lasted an eternity between heartbeats…or maybe her heart had just stopped. Her mouth trembled open though she had no clear idea of what to say and she couldn't breathe anyway and…

Terry ripped her hand from his and stumbled to her feet. "What are you saying?"

There really wasn't a way to make it more clear than that. "I h-had sex. With Jean," Bobby restated quietly, his heart sinking to his stomach. It was over. He'd ruined at least three lives in one evening of stupidity. But still he forced his gaze not to waver from her face. He'd watch every emotion, every drop of pain he was causing her, because it was his, he'd done this, and he would face the consequences.

How could he just sit there looking at her? What was she supposed to do? "I…when? Why?" Was this why he didn't want her? And how long had he been lying to her? "…I told you. When you got back from Seattle, I told you right away." She started to tremble, hurt sharpening her voice. "How could you?"

"Last Tuesday," Bobby admitted. More than a week ago, now. "It wasn't--I'm sorry. I freaked out. It wasn't supposed to happen, and I didn't know what to do..." His courage failed him and he looked away, stomach in knots. "I didn't want to hurt you." Mission very much NOT accomplished, Drake.

"THEN WHY DID YOU SLEEP WITH HER?" Terry shouted, anguished. The sound reverberated through the room, loud enough to hurt the ears but not to break anything. There was some measure of control left…not much but some.

Bobby flinched, his hands twitching toward his ears and then dropping to his lap. "...I don't know," he admitted miserably. "It just happened."

Terry clenched her jaw, not trusting herself to speak. Her eyes were bright with tears as she shook her head. She couldn't do this. Couldn't face this. Tried to draw in a breath and caught it on a sob. Before she could completely embarrass herself, Terry mouthed something at him, knowing she'd start screaming if she made any sound at all. She turned and ran for the door, wrenching it open and slamming it behind her again.

It was done. Bobby'd done what he had to do, and it had had about the reaction he'd expected. He grabbed the pillow again, hugging it to his hurting stomach, and felt a despair he hadn't known in years roll over him. He felt worthless, lower than low.

"I hate myself," he hissed through clenched teeth into the empty room.