Jubilee sat up in the bed and looked around the almost empty medlab. She considered it 'almost' because Hank passed out on a cot in the corner couldn't really be considered a living entity. For the past ten minutes she had sat there, listening to his soft snoring, before deciding to get up. A week had passed since her last 'episode', as she took to calling them, but the professor insisted that she remain in the medlab for further testing. Not that she minded very much. At least here she could live in the relative peace of the humming machines, machines that did not look and judge, that didn't ask questions to which she didn't know the answer. Machines just sat there waiting for someone to come along and mess with them, and she liked that just fine.
Silently, Jubilee walked towards the sliding doors that led to the elevator, and headed for the ground floor. The cold metal tile burned her feet, but she didn't care. The pain was good in her opinion. It was one of the few things that let her know she was still alive.
The doors opened and she stepped into the foyer. The house was dark since it was past three in the morning. On weekdays Scott insisted on early morning training exercises, meaning that all but the heartiest members of the team would be sleeping. The heavy furniture loomed like darker masses against the shadows, and she could almost picture herself sitting on the couch, coke in hand, bowl of popcorn on her lap as she made Logan watch another hour of Celebrity Deathmatch.
Silently, she took the stairs two at a time, then glided through the halls before she was stopped short by a light under the professors door.
'Curiouser and curioser,' she thought, then mentally slapped herself. Now she was starting to talk like Hank.
'Next thing you know I'll be spouting something like the anticular method of chopping cheese cubes,' she thought, before moving past the door and heading into the west wing.
Charles waited until he felt Jubilee drift further away before moving. He knew what time it was, knew that she had awakened a short while ago in the Medlab before plotting her escape into the upper levels. Her mind was clear. Clearer than it had been for months, and it was that calm clarity that frightened him. After the seething turmoil that rolled through her since her rescue it was eerie, unsettling. He was wary to contact her however, since she responded badly to that small invasion on her person.
//Professor, Jubilee has-//
//I know, Jean// Charles sent. //She's heading for her room.//
The telepathic nod Charles received was enough, and he broke the link between them. Ever since she had been tagged, Jean had become more sensitive to Jubilee and her moods. Often, she was the one who brought the girl her meals during the day, though to his knowledge, Jubilee hadn't spoken a word to her.
Jubilee gasped as the cold water hit her skin, teasing the tender areas left from her Danger Room exercise. It felt good though, and she stood under the spray for several minutes before turning the dial to hot. Grabbing the Herbal Essence Shampoo she ran it through her hair, scrubbing at her scalp before working on the hair itself. Almost as if in a trance she watched the clumps of soap fall to the floor and swirl down the drain, swept away by the running water
'Hurry up, Bastion wants her nice and clean.'
The words were so real that they made her jump and drop the sponge. For several seconds Jubilee looked around wildly, desperately trying to pinpoint the voice, before she realized that there was no way Johns could be there, she had watched his chest explode as shrapnel from the exploding terminal shot into him, silencing him forever. She was home again, whatever that meant.
Shaking off the chill that invaded her, Jubilee picked up the sponge and began washing again, this time scrubbing her skin until it turned pink before moving on. That done, she attacked the stubble that had grown in her 'recovery'. The hair proved no match for shaving cream and a razor, and soon her legs and armpits were devoid of even the slightest bit of hair.
"No reason to look like the Wolfman," Jubilee said out loud as she rinsed her hair. The long locks fell almost to the center of her back. A year ago she decided that she needed a change, and abandoned the long-on-top, short-on-bottom look that had become her trademark.
Her blue eyes ran over the dark blue tile, a far cry from the white stall she had been shoved in the one time she was bathed during her captivity. Sighing, she reached up and turned the spout to message and turned up the heat, then began washing again, but this time with a vengeance. Her skin turned red and tingled as she attacked it, dropping the soft loofa and replacing it with a back brush, but she didn't care. The only thought running through her mind was that it she scrubbed hard enough, and long enough, she would finally be clean again.
After long minutes, Jubilee dropped the brush, barely hearing the hard crash of the wood on the ceramic tile over her own heartbreak. With a sob she fell back against the tiles, crossing her hands over her stomach, feeling the flatness of it, wondering for the briefest moment what it would have been like to have something inside her, something that needed her. With another shaky cry her arms were crossed over her chest as she slid to the floor, trying to convince herself that it was water and not tears that blurred her vision.
By the time Jubilee emerged from her shower the water ran cold and her lips were blue. Naked, she padded across her room, leaving water-dark footprints on the hardwood floor. She stopped at her dresser. Looking in the mirror, she gathered her hair at her nape with one hand and picked up a pair of scissors with the other. A quick snip between her hand and her neck and her hair fell to the floor. She repeated the action in the front, cutting in front of two fingers, and then on the sides. Grabbing a towel, she scrubbed herself dry, then headed for her closet. Underwear, black stretch pants, and a gray knitted sweater that was almost five sizes too big were her chosen garb.
Dressed, Jubilee returned to the mirror and picking up her brush, she quickly brushed out her new style. It was shorter than she'd ever cut it, no hair longer than three inches, and it suited her just fine. After slipping on a pair of loafers, Jubes headed for the roof. Previously, the highly sloped roof had been the hiding place of Remy only, since he was the only one crazy enough to risk his life by walking the razor edge tiles. One slip, and he would fall on the slippery shingles and slide off. It was a place where Jubilee was sure she would find privacy at this time of night.
She was wrong.
On the far edge of the roof she could barely make out a shape in the moonlight. She watched as the figure moved, and a sudden bright red point of light appeared out of the darkness. 'Gambit', she thought, but then paused as she moved closer. The form was too broad, the hair too short. And then it hit her.
"Cyclops?"
The word brought a quick cough and a rapid waving of hands before she got an answer, "Jubilee?"
Relieved, she began walking forward again. So Scott, their resident Golden Boy, who was against Gambit doing any of the miriad of things that caught his attention, was a smoker.
"Late night, Cyclops," she said as she settled down next to him. Her legs swung off the edge, leaving her perched on the edge of a fifty foot drop. It would be so easy for her to simply slide.
"I could say the same for you," Scott answered sheepishly.
Jubilee stared at him for long seconds before asking, "So, now that I know, what do you say to letting me bum one?"
A dubious look was her answer, and for a moment she thought he was going to deny her, 'And launch into a speech on the dangers of smoking, hypocrite.' she thought. So she was surprised when a shiny package was handed to her, along with a silver lighter.
"I've been trying to quit," Scott said while lighting up another one.
"For how long?"
"Ten years."
Jubilee was impressed. To her knowledge, the only vice Scott ever allowed himself was an occasional drink at Harry's. That he had been smoking the entire time she had lived at the mansion, and that she didn't even realize it, were leading her mind on a path of new ideas about their leader.
"Jean doesn't know," Scott said, taking another drag and letting the smoke drift out with his words. "I'm down to a pack a month."
Jubilee nodded. The smoke burned her lungs, but she was already feeling light headed. Like most mutants, she had a 'anything goes' physiology, one that was extremely sensitive to tobacco in general, and nicotine in particular. The feeling spread throughout her body, and soon she felt like she was floating.
"Hey," A strong arm wrapped around her, but Jubilee didn't care. Cigarettes had pretty much the same effect on her as Xtasy had on other people, and at the moment, the fact that she was barely a moment from falling from a tall building wasn't her concern.
A large, MALE arm squeezing her was.
*Where ya goin girl?*
Somewhere in Jubilee's hazed mind she was aware that it was Scott who was holding her, trying to keep her from falling, but that part was too far away, and the smell of Johns' cheap cologne too real at the moment. Vaguely she was aware that she was fighting, that someone was trying desperately to hold onto her, but that wasn't something she was worried about, not while she was slipping further and further into oblivion.
Sorry it took so long to get this out. I wont have my own computer again until September, so I have to rely on snatching time on other peoples computers. Hope you enjoyed it!!!
Love and stuff
Writegirl.