xp_logs | Doug and Amanda: Breakdown

Doug has been trying to hold it together since Genosha. Today we find out just how well he's been succeeding. Or not.

Doug was exhausted. Actually, exhausted wasn't even a strong enough word. He hadn't really had a restful night of sleep since the return from Genosha. And then Remy had sent about half the team around the world to shore their network of contacts back up, so he'd gotten a brutal case of jet lag on top of it. And, as the final cherry on the insomnia sundae, he'd spent the night holed up in his office, unable to make himself go out in the particularly strong rainstorm that had swept in the day before.

Thankfully, things had cleared up enough for him to go down to the coffee shop, and brave whatever doom the ladies who staffed the shop were thinking of visiting on him for ordering the absurdly caffeinated concoctions he favored. At least today's offering was iced, because even he couldn't make himself drink hot coffee this close to midsummer. So he was sipping at it through a straw as he came back into the office, grunted at Cammie at the reception desk, and then headed back towards his office-slash-server room.

Amanda had, as of five minutes ago, been in Japan, talking to Sato Miyagi about the occult network and smoothing some ruffled feathers. That being done, she let Tokyo boost her way back, resulting in a far more boisterous teleport than normal. She popped abruptly up through the floor. barely missing Doug as he walked through the office by her desk.

Amanda's teleportation was heralded by a brief ripple (in the floor in this case), but that usually wasn't enough warning to be prepared for the sudden appearance of the blonde Brit if you weren't already expecting her. So Doug was flinching backward before his brain could catch up to sensory input and come up with 'Amanda'. He stumbled backward, and his heel clipped the edge of one of the cubicle walls. His arms pinwheeled as he tried to regain his balance, and the iced coffee drink in his hand flew up into the air. The top hadn't been secured enough, so it came free at the apex of the arc, and when it came down, the entire contents of the cup drenched Doug full in the face.

"Bugger!" Amanda backed off instinctively as she reallised she'd nearly 'ported into someone. "'M so sorry..." A snort of laughter erupted at the sight of Doug covered in coffee, but it died as she realised he wasn't reacting, standing there stock-still and white-faced. "Doug? You all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Doug couldn't hear her over the sudden ringing in his ears.

"I do not recall asking your permission, Mister Ramsey."

Every muscle in his body clenched at once, knuckles whitening to match his ashen face. He couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe, couldn't BREATHE, and it didn't even occur to him that part of that reason was that he'd not taken a breath since being hit in the face by his coffee. His vision began to gray around the edges, and then all the tension and stillness snapped. His mouth opened, and he gasped desperately for air, panting in short shallow inhalations and exhalations. His pulse pounded.

He belatedly realized that his hands were not restrained, he could move them, and they sprang up to his face, frantically scrubbing, almost clawing at the skin, in a vain attempt to dry it.

"Doug!" What did you do when you apparently sent a team mate crazy? Amanda didn't know. "Someone, help!" she called as loudly as she could, hands hovering helplessly as she tried to figure out if touching him would make it worse. "Doug, it's okay! 'S just a little bit of wet, that's all! You're all right!"

Touching would have certainly made it worse, especially if she'd tried to restrain his hands. He might have lashed out unthinkingly. It took several more tries for Amanda's voice to start getting through to Doug. His eyes darted back and forth like a skittish animal, but the repeated 'you're all right' slowly calmed him down. He slumped against the wall of the cubicle, breathing hard like he'd just finished running a race. His face still felt damp, and he dragged his sleeve over it, but without the urgency of his previous movements.

No-one had appeared to bail her out - trust it to be lunch hour and a skeleton staff. Amanda realised that the talking was getting through and kept on in that vein, talking to her teammate much as she used to talk to a skittish horse, back when she'd been working at the stables in high school, keeping her voice even and steady. "Hey, it's all right, mate, you're doing fine. Just breathe, okay? You're safe, you're okay, I'm here..."

Doug continued slumping until he was seated on the ground, his knees drawn up to his chest. The continued soothing tone began to calm Doug, just like those skittish horses Amanda was remembering. His head leaned back against the cubicle, and he stared despondently up toward the ceiling. Clearly, he wasn't all right. And hadn't been for some time, despite how he'd been attempting to act like he was. "Sorry," he apologized roughly.

She'd crouched beside him as he'd slid down the side of the cubicle and now she rocked forward onto her knees so she was kneeling on the floor. "How long's this been building?" she asked quietly.

Forever? Sometimes it seemed like it. Since Day Zero? Maybe. "Genosha," was what he finally hoarsely managed to settle upon. "That first...interrogation."

"Who are you talking to?" It seemed a matter of course to Amanda that he would be talking to someone. "I can call them, get them here for you."

The silence was deafening. Doug had a hunch that he was about to get a tongue-lashing from Amanda that would make the one he'd gotten from Jubilee about seeing Sofia seem tame in comparison. He curled in even farther on himself and bit his lip.

"You're not." Amanda's tone went flat, the expression leaving her face. "You bloody idiot. You're fucking cracking up and you're still in the field and you're not getting help dealing with your stuff?" She had to clamp down on the rising fury, her outrage at his selfishness. What if he'd had his panic attack on a job? What if he'd gotten someone killed because he was too self-absorbed to see the danger he was putting them all in? She wanted to lash out, shake him, scream at him for being so stupid.

Instead, she drew a deep breath, biting back any more scathing words. "Fine," she said, standing up. "You've got 'til the end of the day to sort out someone to see. If you don't, I'll be going to Remy and Emma and telling them you're not fit for active duty. Any kind of duty."

Doug jerked with every word, like Amanda really was shaking him back and forth. He could see the urge written across her face. Useless. She was right. He wasn't fit for duty. He was a liability. Remy was right. The job had broken him. He was broken. Was there even a point in trying to put Humpty Dumpty back together again? "Okay," he said in a whisper. He honestly wan't sure himself whether he was agreeing to talking to Sofia, or letting Amanda go to Remy and Emma.

"I'll be checking up to make sure you do, Doug. You know better than this. You're not one of the Xavier's kids too whatever to ask for help, not any more." The sight of him, curled up and shattered, ought to have prompted empathy, compassion. Instead, all she felt was anger. Betrayal. He should know better. And the anger made her feel like a monster.

Abruptly, she turned and let the city take her back again, not even thinking of where she was going, just that she needed to be gone. The floor closed over her head, rippling slightly before it solidified again, leaving Doug alone.