Doug and Wanda - Resignation

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Doug does something he thinks he needs to do after the events of Tuesday. It doesn't go at all how he thought it would.


Doug wasn't ready to face Remy. He didn't know when he might be. And so instead he took advantage of the 'on paper' table of organization and went to the theoretical president of the Snow Valley Memorial Centre for Mutant Affairs.

His left hand rapped against the jamb of Wanda's office door before he came into view. His hair was still the same ridiculously short length it had been since the various teams had gathered up their people and left Genosha, and if you looked closely, you could see the redness of razor burn under the blond stubble dusting his chin. An unsealed plain white envelope was in his right hand, and it wavered as if Doug were standing in a stiff breeze. He waited silently for Wanda to look up and acknowledge him, his eyes staring off at nothing.

It didn't take her long - Wanda wasn't in the habit of keeping people waiting unless she was on the phone or in the middle of something important (generally things that involved preventing something gross and flesh eating from coming through a portal). "Mr. Ramsey," she said, hitting save on a document before something untoward happened to it. She sat back and took in his body language - you didn't need to have his power to notice body language that was screaming at you. Her eyes flickered down to the envelope in his hands and she waved a hand at him. "The chair there is perfectly stable, I promise it will not collapse underneath you if you happen to sit upon it."

Doug sat in the chair, but forward in it, practically on the very edge of the seat. His 'fight or flight' urge was running especially high, and it took a lot for him just to sit and not run immediately out the door after dropping the envelope on Wanda's desk. Instead, he sat, and proferred the envelope to her. "I..." he began, his voice rough. He cleared his throat and then fell silent, clearly having no real idea what to say.

"A man of few, or no, words today, I see," she commented. Wanda gently took the envelope between her fingers and took it from Doug before he could bolt from the chair. It wasn't sealed and when she took out the folded piece of paper inside it was still warm from the printer. There wasn't much on there, actually, just two very short paragraphs and a signature on the bottom with his name. She read it, flipped the top part of the paper down to look at him over it, and then started to reread it.

After a moment, she said "Ah" and folded it back into the small rectangle that it had been before, tucked it into the envelope and then leaned over to the side. Wanda didn't quite disappear as she leaned over the side of her chair and fumbled with something that was tucked under her desk and out of sight. A moment later, the unmistakable sound of a paper shredder coming to life could be heard.

Of all the reactions Doug had expected from handing Wanda a letter tendering his resignation, "Ah" and feeding it to a shredder hadn't even made the list. His mouth gaped open, like a fish out of...his mind shied away from that particular metaphor. "I don't understand," he said slowly.

"Of course you don't, that's why you just handed me a bullshit resignation letter." Shoving herself away from her desk, Wanda grabbed her purse and pointed to Doug. "The shredder, for some strange reason, tends to smell like wet dog when I use it. You owe me a hot dog for having to use it, Douglas, so let's take a walk." She moved to stand next to the chair and stared down at him. "There are not many people I will take 'no' from and, currently, you are not on that list."

Doug followed along meekly behind, still not grasping why Wanda had done what she'd done, but knowing better than to really confront her about it. But still, he protested weakly as they went out the doors of the office and down toward the street. "I had a complete meltdown right in the office," he told her. "I mean, Remy always was telling me that one day this job would break me. Well, it did."

"And?" she responded simply. It was sunny and hot in New York City and Wanda grumbled under her breath as she dug through her purse to find her sunglasses. It was going to be one hell of a hot summer if the current temperature was anything to go. Sliding on her shades she tilted her head at Doug as they slowly walked down the busy sidewalk.

Doug put one of his own numerous pairs of sunglasses on and shook his head as if he didn't understand the question. Which he didn't. "And what?" he asked. "I'm useless now. I mean, what if I'd frozen up in the field?" He tossed his hands in the air. "I mean, Sofia referred me to a therapist, and he wants me to go on a freaking retreat!"

"Then go on the retreat!" Wanda responded. There were a few issues to be tackled (an entire basketful but she couldn't blame him. Even if she wanted to shake some sense into him) so she set her sights on one and honed in. "I am assuming that the person Sofia suggested would be an expert in his or her field so they probably know what they are talking about." The street lights changed and for once Wanda didn't jaywalk; instead, she stopped and turned so she could look at him. "What are you afraid of if you go? That it won't work or help?"

"I'm afraid it will!" Doug's voice got a bit shrill on that, and his face twisted with pain. "I'm afraid I'm so messed up that Sofia had to send me to someone else because she doesn't know what to do with me. I'm afraid that if this retreat, or worse, medication, works...then what does that say about me?" His eyes were pleading behind his sunglasses where Wanda couldn't see them, the barrier letting him be more honest. He was just too tired to skirt around the subject.

"There it is," Wanda said, shoving her sunglasses up until they rested in her hair. She scrutinized his face for a moment, ignoring some of the staring New Yorkers that passed them by. After a moment she cupped his face in her hands and leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead - with the heels on, Wanda had to duck slightly to avoid hitting his hairline. Pulling back, she smiled as she slipped her sunglasses back down. "First, you owe me a hotdog. Second, we talk some sense into that brain of yours, Doug."

The simple touch, when he'd had so little of it lately, nearly caused Doug to break down crying right in the middle of the sidewalk. "Will I still have my job when I get back?" he asked in a very small voice, looking and sounding very much like the scared teenager who had first arrived at the mansion all those years ago. That he would be going to the retreat was now more or less assumed. But he still needed the confirmation from Wanda, because without it, without that sense of usefulness and mattering...

She started walking again, knowing Doug would follow, when the light turned in their favor. "Of course," Wanda responded but she wasn't done. "If you want it. If you go on that retreat, Douglas, and come back with the actual desire to leave the job behind, then that is what will happen. But if you want it, your job will be there. And no matter what you desire, to stay or to go, we - the people, your friends - will always be here."

"Then why did you-" Doug dashed a hand at the moisture at the corners of his eyes. "Why did you shred the-" He was choked up, emotional at the thought that after the past two years, and all the shit between them, that Wanda might still consider him a friend.

"Because you didn't mean it. Not really and I did not have to be graced with your talents to see that." They stopped again but this time, a few feet away from the hot dog cart. A long line of hungry patrons waited in front but that was fine, it gave them time. Wanda's face turned in his direction and she knew Doug would read the truth of what she was saying not from her words but from what she wasn't saying. From the way she stood, the tilt in her head, it all backed up what she was saying verbally. And Wanda wondered honestly if that was the only way Doug trusted anymore.

And it made her so incredibly sad. "You were reaching out in the only way you knew how but the problem was, you didn't expect me to answer. You thought that, even though I truly had no authority to accept it, I would have taken the resignation letter at face value. You didn't expect me to reach out a hand instead. And that is why you need to go on this retreat. Because at the end of the day, you need to trust that when you falter, one of us will be there."

This time the tears really did trickle down Doug's face, and his shoulders shook silently. He didn't understand. How could she forgive him when he didn't feel like he could forgive himself for so many of the things that had happened in the past several years? But the least he could do was accept the hand she was offering him, recognize it as the gift it was, and accept with some kind of grace. "Thank you," he said hoarsely when he opened his eyes again to look at her.

Wanda patted him on the arm. She felt satisfied that she'd at least broken through the first hurdle but the rest was up to Doug. They could only do so much if he couldn't, or wouldn't, step forward. But this was a good start and she could only hope he would see it through. "You are welcome, Mr. Ramsey. Now, about that hot dog ..."