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xp_logsImmediately after Emma manages to fix everyone's brain, Jubilee comes and knocks at the door to Doug's server room.
Jubilee knocked gently again Doug's server room door, listening carefully to make sure he was still inside. They'd all gone their separate ways once the shock of Emma's mind whammy had worn off slightly, but she'd only gone far enough to wash her face and remove the trickle of blood from her nose before returning.
"You still in there?"
Doug could hear her easily. It wasn't like he was actually doing anything besides staring at his computer screens. Accomplishing any kind of actual work was beyond him - not that there was any work to do at the moment, anyway. He sighed and got up out of his chair and crossed to the door, sliding down to sit with his back next to it so at least he wouldn't have to yell. "Yeah, I'm here."
"Can I come in?" she asked, leaning her forehead against the server room door.
She felt tired, and not just because of the headache that was still throbbing dully behind her eyes, unreachable even by the pain killers she'd downed just moments before. Having been for a few days the, if not care-free, at least not so broken person she'd been what felt a lifetime ago weighed on her like it hadn't in years. Boiling frog syndrome, she supposed.
"I...can we just talk like this for a while?" Doug asked, still hesitantly turning everything into a question, as if he'd be afraid someone would be mad at him for needing something. And right now he wasn't sure he could handle being face-to-face with anyone, even his girlfriend. He needed that barrier, that remove that a door, or telephone, or email window provided.
"Sure," Jubilee responded, pausing a moment with her forehead still pressed to the door before she turned and slumped to the floor in front of it. "Did you need any painkillers or anything?"
There were so many questions she really wanted to ask 'Are you okay', 'Do you wish you were sixteen again and you'd never remembered'...'Do you love me?' She didn't ask any of them though, if the years had taught her anything it was that sometimes your own questions had to wait while you made sure the people you cared about knew you were there and that you'd listen, just listen and not expect anything more.
"I've got some in here. And I actually don't have that much of a headache." No, Doug's hurts ran more to the emotional and psychological right now than the physical, and even the best sorts of painkillers weren't going to do much to dull that. "You doing okay?" he asked. He should be thinking of others, not wallowing in his own self-pity. Of course, that led him to a round of meta-flagellation, his emotions flaying him for being so goddamn self-absorbed and not thinking of others.
"Aren't I always?" Jubilee replied, pulling her knees up to her chest as she leant back against his server room door. "Peachey keen and fancy free, totally me all over."
If the words sounded slightly hallow, she couldn't really bring herself to care much. She could understand if Doug didn't want to open up to her right now, she couldn't say that she really wanted to open up to anyone either.
Doug didn't even need to see Jubilee to know the words for a lie. All the old armor was up again, and he did want to call her on it. Because he hated seeing her hurt. But the problem was, they were -all- hurting right now, and he was barely treading water through his own issues. "I..." he started, then trailed off, then barked a laugh that had no humor in it. "What a mess," he summed up.
"Something like that," Jubilee agreed, closing her eyes for a moment, as if that might somehow make it better. "I'd be all, 'it can only get better, right?' but then it'd be like, totally jinxing us."
Doug was starting to wonder if it -would- ever get better, even if he couldn't quite bring himself to be that pessimistic aloud. Lately it just seemed like his life was a series of crises, and he just reeled from one to the next. And it was starting to wear him down, bit by bit. He still wasn't sure he bought Remy's belief that the job inherently made them all broken or what have you, but he did feel the cracks in him starting to show. And he wasn't sure how to patch them back up. Or if he could. Much less help Jubilee patch hers up at the same time.
"Yeah," he said, for lack of anything else to say.
Jubilee knocked gently again Doug's server room door, listening carefully to make sure he was still inside. They'd all gone their separate ways once the shock of Emma's mind whammy had worn off slightly, but she'd only gone far enough to wash her face and remove the trickle of blood from her nose before returning.
"You still in there?"
Doug could hear her easily. It wasn't like he was actually doing anything besides staring at his computer screens. Accomplishing any kind of actual work was beyond him - not that there was any work to do at the moment, anyway. He sighed and got up out of his chair and crossed to the door, sliding down to sit with his back next to it so at least he wouldn't have to yell. "Yeah, I'm here."
"Can I come in?" she asked, leaning her forehead against the server room door.
She felt tired, and not just because of the headache that was still throbbing dully behind her eyes, unreachable even by the pain killers she'd downed just moments before. Having been for a few days the, if not care-free, at least not so broken person she'd been what felt a lifetime ago weighed on her like it hadn't in years. Boiling frog syndrome, she supposed.
"I...can we just talk like this for a while?" Doug asked, still hesitantly turning everything into a question, as if he'd be afraid someone would be mad at him for needing something. And right now he wasn't sure he could handle being face-to-face with anyone, even his girlfriend. He needed that barrier, that remove that a door, or telephone, or email window provided.
"Sure," Jubilee responded, pausing a moment with her forehead still pressed to the door before she turned and slumped to the floor in front of it. "Did you need any painkillers or anything?"
There were so many questions she really wanted to ask 'Are you okay', 'Do you wish you were sixteen again and you'd never remembered'...'Do you love me?' She didn't ask any of them though, if the years had taught her anything it was that sometimes your own questions had to wait while you made sure the people you cared about knew you were there and that you'd listen, just listen and not expect anything more.
"I've got some in here. And I actually don't have that much of a headache." No, Doug's hurts ran more to the emotional and psychological right now than the physical, and even the best sorts of painkillers weren't going to do much to dull that. "You doing okay?" he asked. He should be thinking of others, not wallowing in his own self-pity. Of course, that led him to a round of meta-flagellation, his emotions flaying him for being so goddamn self-absorbed and not thinking of others.
"Aren't I always?" Jubilee replied, pulling her knees up to her chest as she leant back against his server room door. "Peachey keen and fancy free, totally me all over."
If the words sounded slightly hallow, she couldn't really bring herself to care much. She could understand if Doug didn't want to open up to her right now, she couldn't say that she really wanted to open up to anyone either.
Doug didn't even need to see Jubilee to know the words for a lie. All the old armor was up again, and he did want to call her on it. Because he hated seeing her hurt. But the problem was, they were -all- hurting right now, and he was barely treading water through his own issues. "I..." he started, then trailed off, then barked a laugh that had no humor in it. "What a mess," he summed up.
"Something like that," Jubilee agreed, closing her eyes for a moment, as if that might somehow make it better. "I'd be all, 'it can only get better, right?' but then it'd be like, totally jinxing us."
Doug was starting to wonder if it -would- ever get better, even if he couldn't quite bring himself to be that pessimistic aloud. Lately it just seemed like his life was a series of crises, and he just reeled from one to the next. And it was starting to wear him down, bit by bit. He still wasn't sure he bought Remy's belief that the job inherently made them all broken or what have you, but he did feel the cracks in him starting to show. And he wasn't sure how to patch them back up. Or if he could. Much less help Jubilee patch hers up at the same time.
"Yeah," he said, for lack of anything else to say.
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