xp_logs | Doug and Jubilee - This Is How A Heart Breaks

Doug finally goes to talk to Jubilee.

Doug knew that he couldn't avoid the situation with Jubilee forever. In fact, so far he'd done a spectacularly bad job of avoiding all the things he wished he could avoid. And his conversation with Terry had led him to realize that he had been a bit too wrapped up in himself and his own issues lately, and that Jubilee had been struggling with her own. And that wasn't exactly fair to her. So instead of waiting for her to approach him again, he climbed up the fire escape and tapped softly at her window.

"Come in," Jubilee called, finishing another line on her current crotchet project.

While Jubilee was as security conscious as any of the other Trenchcoats, the fact that there had been a tap at her window suggested that it was either A. Someone she knew, most likely Doug; or possibly in the extreme, Remy, or B. The most polite enemy she'd ever encountered. She figured B would almost completely unlikely, and since things had been mostly on the quiet side intel wise, she didn't think Remy would be knocking at her window when he could just use the phone. So that left Doug, and unless he'd turned evil, there shouldn't be a lot to worry about.

Still, it was probably a good idea to stop crocheting upside down, company and all. She placed her crotchet on the couch and then used her hands to flip herself over onto her feet.

"I don't think the whole upside down crocheting thing is ever going to stop being weird to me," Doug observed as he came in the window. "I mean, it's like a bat hanging from the roof of a cave doing arts and crafts." But it was a benign sort of odd, and really they all had their coping techniques. And as much as he enjoyed small talk, he knew he was trying to find easy topics of conversation rather than the reason he was actually there. "How've you been?" he asked quietly.

"Gives me a different perspective," Jubilee replied with a shrug, moving closer to him; before raising herself on her toes to give him a hello kiss. "I've been better, Sof and I are workin' on it though. You?"

"Up and down," was the honest admission. "I kind of realized that I've been a little too wrapped up in my own crap since the whole sixteen thing, and that wasn't fair to you." Doug shrugged and waved a hand. "So, uh, here I am."

"Dude, maybe sell me on the enthusiasm a little more?" Jubilee said, smiling to take some of the sting out of the words. "If I'd been Terry or Marie-Ange, would you have taken this long?"

It wasn't the best way to start this conversation, she'd meant to be a lot calmer about it. Sometimes words were just there though, and since this about this, I'm sick of not knowing where your heads at."

"That's not entirely fair," Doug protested. "Which one of us came to whom just now? I'm trying. It's just...not easy for me." He followed her to the kitchenette. "I'm sorry I didn't let you in my office before."

"You've been distant since I used the L word," Jubilee noted, putting the kettle on to boil. "Look, I know relationship crap is scary, wasn't like I wasn't the one being all reluctant to be in one in the first place. I guess I just want you to be honest with me. I need to know you're not scared of telling me things, even if it's 'I don't love you'. We were friends before all this, I'd hate to think we're less than that now."

Doug sat down at the table, his shoulders slumped a bit. "We're not less than that. No matter what, I don't want you to think that," he told her. "It's just...I'm worried that you're more committed to this than me, and I worry that it's not fair to you. And I just...I don't know what I want right now."

Jubilee took another cup out of the cupboard above her and poured hot water into both it and her own. She didn't speak while she went about the business of making a cup of tea, allowing both herself and Doug the gift of silence for that short time until she placed one of the cups in front of him and sat down in the other seat.

"I've been wanting things to move too fast," Jubilee admitted, taking a sip out of her cup and ruminating on it for a moment before swallowing. "Been talkin' to Sof about it a little bit recently, given my history with this stuff. If there's somethin' you can have with Terry, I'd be a huge bitch if I clung onto you just cause I'm afraid of bein' alone."

"You're not the only one who's afraid of being alone." Doug blew on his tea and then took a long sip, trying to step his way through the minefield inside his head. "I don't know if there's anything I can have with Terry." He shrugged. "I don't know if it'd be fair to anyone involved - you, me, her, Bobby - if we were to just jump in and see." His eyes stayed on the tabletop, as if there was something utterly fascinating there, rather than just the fact that actually looking at anything felt too difficult. "I don't know any of the answers. I don't know what I want from anything right now." He snorted, wry and full of self-mocking. "I find myself saying 'I don't know' an awful lot lately."

Jubilee breathed for a moment, letting the words stretch between them as she thought about what she wanted, and what was best for them both. She couldn't honestly say she knew, and right now she didn't think she was in the best frame of mind to really be thinking about it at all.

"I can't tell you this isn't hard for me right now," Jubilee admitted softly, reaching across the table to lace her fingers through his. "I'm not exactly at like, my most shiny. But I think it's time I let you go, whether you find something with Terry or not. You like, need space to figure things out, and I need it too."

Doug's breath caught in his throat. Even if he had wondered if they were headed in this direction, it still hurt to hear those words said out loud. "I don't..." he said, cutting himself off before he could say the third word of the phrase he was overusing. "Is this what you want?" he asked.

"I don't know," Jubilee answered honestly, running her free hand through her short hair. "I got nothin', dude. I've spent the past week being all 'random anger girl' and talking to Sof about why I feel the need to eat all the things while sittin' on my couch in my underwear. Can't you just make a decision for once?"

She flinched at the sound of her own anger, and shrugged self-consciously, a wry smile gracing her lips for a moment before fading into exhaustion.

Doug ran his hand roughly through his hair, clenching a fist and pulling at his short curls. "I don't...dammit!" he exploded, frustrated more at himself than Jubilee, but a little bit at her for laying what seemed like the entire decision of whether they were still a couple on him. Was this how it was supposed to go every time for him? Just falling into a relationship and then staying until it fell apart? At least this time it wasn't a Dear John letter, right? He stayed in the chair, coiled with tension.

"Doug, I can't do this anymore," Jubilee replied finally, reaching across the table to catch both his hands in hers, bringing them down to the table. "This is so totally unhealthy, can't you see that? It's like, if we stay together I'm just gonna keep wanting more than you can give me, and then I'm gonna resent the hell out of you when you can't give it to me. So like, just let me go, okay? Please?"

Doug may have been feeling buffeted by relationships, confused about his own feelings, torn in several directions, worried about many things. But one thing he knew - you can't keep someone who doesn't want to stay. And while there could be a debate about whether Jubilee meant it when she said 'let me go' or was just pushing him away for other reasons, he had to acknowledge what she was saying.

He slowly pulled his hands away and stood from his chair. "I'm sorry," he said simply, not entirely clear what he was apologizing for. Sorry he couldn't be what she needed. Sorry it was ending like this. And then he left, quietly, the same way he had come in.