Log: Scott Summers and Jubilation Lee

[x-jubilee.livejournal.com]

Who: Scott Summers, Jubilation Lee
When: Tuesday, October 19th, 2004 1:00pm
What Happens: After seeing Scott's e-mail, she comes to talk to him. They butt heads again.
Song: 'Girl' by Tori Amos



Jubilee placed her still damp hair into a neat ponytail as she walked down the hall towards Scott's office. She'd had a brief whimsical moment but had decided against putting her hair in pigtails. She'd taken the time to have a bath and a brief nap before reading e-mail and the journal system. She was still cringing over the thread in her journal. Massive amounts of caffeine over four days seemed to have destroyed all her common sense. She was surprised she hadn't ended up on the Flyer's platform in full Phantom of the Opera gear.

She'd woken up in another cold sweat after the brief nap but the dreams weren't any worse. She'd get used to them, like she had all the others. Reaching the door to Scott's office, she knocked softly on it. Her stance and demeanour were a far cry from the girl who had stood here four days before.

"Come in," Scott called, straightening in his chair as he saw that it was Jubilee. "Sit down," he said brusquely, not sure what the emotion was that was gripping him at the sight of her. Not quite anger. Definitely not remorse.

She nodded and took a seat, examining the office again as she had four days before. Not much had changed, it still showed very little of the personality of the man who sat in front of her. She wondered why that was, usually people were rather more sloppy about their work environments, covering it with personal affects. It was all so bland...

"Got your e-mail." she said.

"It was the files, wasn't it?" Scott said, without further preamble."Four days. You read those files on Friday morning and then stopped sleeping."

"Well, I did try to sleep. I think it was havin' the two thugs that killed my parents turnin' up at the foot of my bed that woke me up. Did I ever tell you guys they got away clean? Always wondered if one of these days they might come lookin' to clean up loose ends. Samson was all about tellin' me how safe this place was, with all the people here who could protect me. Guess he ain't seen those files though. I wouldn't let it bother you much, Scott. I ain't felt safe a day in my life anywhere I've been. Learnin' to not feel safe here was pretty much inevitable. Aside from that though, I asked for it, so it's not like I wasn't warned, ya know? Brought this on myself, I'll live with it."

Jubilee shifted on her chair, a stubborn set to her shoulders. She didn't regret seeing those files, she needed to see them. The little act in psychotics that had gone on, on her journal was her own damn fault for drinking so much damn coffee and soda.

Scott stared at her for a long, long moment. Almost incredulously. "I cannot believe you," he said finally, struggling to keep his voice level at the way she was almost glaring at him. "I just--damn it!" An angry swipe of his hands sent a stack of folders flying off the table. "There's no right answer with you, is there?" he demanded.

She blinked at him for a second, still somewhat slow on the uptake from lack of sleep. "Huh? What, you wanted me to blame you for this? Should I have sat here and said 'You're a bad man, Scott Summers for showing me those nasty files, shame on you.' Dude, ain't gonna happen."

"I don't want you to blame me, I want you to stop feeling sorry for yourself!" Scott snapped. "You see those files and you promptly pull a drama-queen act. Then you sit here and morosely tell me that you should have expected to have your illusions of safety shattered - four days after you try to convince me that you're mature enough to be one of the people who try to keep this place safe!"

Jubilee smiled, the expression not a happy one. "Actually, I think it had more to do with the fact that I thought it was funny at the time. A little sleep and I'm regrettin' the hell out of that. As to feeling sorry for myself. Well, I don't. But if you're sayin' that's the way I sound. Eh, guess I do. What I was tryin' to do was fend off the 'Never should have shown you anything' talk that I thought was coming. So, you weren't gonna do that, duly noted."

Her leg jiggled slightly as she stared at her hands for a second before meeting his eyes. "Shit, I don't know. You're asking me to be coherent after a days sleep in the last four. Is it true that I never thought this place was safe? Damn right that's true. Is it true that I expected what I saw in those files? No, not in a million years did I expect it to be that bad. Did it screw me over good afterwards? Fucking A it did. Am I expecting anyone to pat me on the head or have a good cry with me? NO!"

She realised she'd started to raise her voice and lowered it again, unclenching her hands from her knees and leaning back to a more agreeable angle in her chair.

"Be happy, Cyke. Least I never pulled the 'I'm a teenager, you have to forgive me for being stupid' spiel."

"You don't know what you want," Scott said quietly, almost bitterly as he stared her down. "You go with your gut, Jubilee, almost always, and the number of times it steers you right is nothing compared to the frequency with which it steers you wrong." He leaned forward in his chair. "You cannot always react emotionally. Especially not if you have any real ambition of being on the team at some point. You do that with the team, you'll get someone killed."

"So fucking well teach me then. Show me how the other way works. You have any idea the number of times I've been told I'm gettin' it wrong? I know I get it wrong, okay? I'm tryin' for fuck's sake. I know how busy everyone is here, I've been tryin' to teach myself how this all works but it ain't workin' out, is it? So, here I am askin' for help."

She wasn't sure what she was expecting him to say. Tell her to get lost, most probably. It was the first time she'd even admitted to herself that she needed help, if she hadn't been so tired and defeated she probably wouldn't have. She placed her feet under her, getting ready to leave.

"I can't even follow the way your mind works half the time," Scott snapped. "Why you say or do the things you do... it doesn't make any sense to me, Jubilee. Why didn't you go to medlab for help when you couldn't sleep?" he challenged her suddenly.

"Because 'Yana was more important, and the Docs always seem so damn busy. I didn't want to take time away from them helpin' her. Not for somethin' as silly as nightmares. And it would have been fine if I didn't make a stupid choice and mix caffeine with sleepin' pills." Jubilee replied.

"So in other words, you felt you knew better than the medical professionals as to what needed their attention and what didn't, and you decided to self-medicate. If we can call it that."

Jubilee smiled wryly. "You know, it does seem kinda stupid now. Just never thought of any of my problems as important enough to bother with. By the time I realise I can't handle it, well, things tend to be damaged and people are lookin' at me like I'm Hitler."

"And how many times have you sat in front of me, or someone else, and said how stupid some action of yours looked in retrospect?" Scott asked sharply.

Her first instinct was to get obnoxious, to tough it out till he stopped. Give people enough attitude and it becomes more effort then they want to expend to talk to you. But what he'd said before about reacting emotionally had stung her and so she chose differently this time.

"More times then I can count on one hand." she replied softly.

"It's a pattern, Jubilee. And it's developing into more and more of one. What you told me you wanted, the last time you sat here? There is absolutely no possibility of that," Scott said forcefully, "until you prove to me that your maturity level is higher than you've shown lately."

Jubilee leaned forward, surprising herself again that she hadn't just walked out by now. Did she really care that much about helping? It would seem that she did. She'd have to examine that feeling later on, it was still so new to her.

"Then tell me what I have to do to prove it. Give me something I can do, Scott. I'm not someone who deals well with insubstantial goals and as much as it might surprise you, I really do want to help. If I gotta prove that to you, so be it. But give me some parameters here."

"Oh, we're looking for easy answers, are you?" Scott demanded. "Someone to tell you what to do? Jubilee, if I want to see proof that your judgement is better than it seems, I need to see you exercising it. Not give you hoops to jump through. See you handle what passes for everyday life around here without the wild behavior and near catastrophes."

If she didn't know how much trouble she would get into for hitting a teacher, she might have been compelled to do it right then. Well, that and the fact that she probably wouldn't get very far trying to hit Scott. She hated how they all seemed to expect her to do whatever it was they wanted her to do but then completely refused to tell her what that was.

Be respectful. Be mature. Stop making stupid decisions. How? That's for you to figure out. God, how she hated that. She'd had a year of a foster father who did the same thing. Well, at least they didn't beat her when she got it wrong.

She couldn't blame him, she supposed. It did look like she wanted it easy. Guess she'd just have to do her best to prove that she could be a responsible, mature adult. Okay, so she'd do her best not to act like a natural disaster anyhow, mature and responsible would need to be worked on.

"When have I ever done anythin' easy, Cyke? But fine, we'll do it your way. Anyway, I got a class I should be in. Was there anythin' else you wanted to talk to me about?" she asked.

She wanted him to show her the way, Scott realized. Be encouraging. Parental. Teacherly. Whatever the hell name you wanted to put to what she wanted.

And he just didn't have it in him.

"No," he said curtly, leaning back in his chair. "I think we've both done enough talking. Words don't really mean much, in the end. Just actions, Jubilee."

She shrugged, got up and walked out without another word. She'd run out of words that might mean anything, she needed time to think.