audio | forward dated a bit to day 66

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[ It's early in the morning. Before most humans should really be awake, honestly. So that's why maybe it's surprising when the communicator, and by extension, the network, catches the sudden panicked inhale of breath and the panic that follows. There's a good minute of rustling and noises that sound a little like whimpers before the sound settles down.

And then it's quiet. A beat. Another, then: ] Fuck, where --

[ That is definitely a familiar voice. Deep breath. Slow exhale - and the recording cuts off in the middle. ]

Comments

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[ He's quiet for a long moment, and then: ] D-dying. I died.

[magnets]

You -

[ It shouldn't be this weird. This place is loaded with weird, weirdness that he's just starting to edge into and it doesn't sit right in his bones. He scratches carefully at the underside of his chin, asks what he doesn't think he should probably be. ]

How? Exactly?

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[ He takes a deep breath, and says as calmly as possible: ] I got stabbed. By someone. [ Yeah, real smooth. His voice cracks. ]

[magnets]

[ Sorry, Finch, dredging up all the gory details here. He's got one more question, though, and it sets his face in something with a few more edges to it, eyes narrowing a little bit. Pissed off, maybe, or just wary. ]

By who?

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[ Silence for a moment, then he mumbles it: ] Ghoul. Facetwin did it.

[magnets]

He -

[ And Jesse sits back a little, his haunches up. He knows Ghoul wasn't himself, just like nobody else around here was. Doesn't mean it doesn't get his hackles rising. ]

But- You're back. [ And his voice cracks a little when he asks, confusedly. He doesn't mean for it to. ]

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[ Jesse actually laughs, and it's a nasty sound, bitter and broken and hurt. ] Ahah. Hallelujah. Back in prison, yeah. M'back.

L-lemme tell you, it ain't a lotta fun. Wouldn't try it if I was you.

[magnets]

Bein' dead?

[ Which sends a shiver down him, makes him think of a whole lot of other things that he shouldn't be, like Jane's cold body pressed up against his, like what the barrel of Tuco's gun felt like pushed into the base of his skull. ]

No, no, it ain't exactly somethin' toppin' my to-do lists. Where are you? Can ya make it all right? Shit, Jesse -

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[ The concern for Jesse's wellbeing builds up in Jesse's chest as a weird mix of guilt and reassurance. People were worried about him, which should be a good thing, and it is - but he also made them worry. He takes a deep breath and tries to steady himself out. ]

Y-yeah -- I did, I got -- I got back. [ He assures, voice trembling despite his best efforts. ] M'home. M'at the house. M'not - m'not going anywhere else.

... Th-thanks. Thanks. [ Really. It's nice to know people care. ]

[magnets]

Good. Just don't start thankin' me yet. I ain't even done anything yet.

[ It's a whole new world when he decides on who he really cares about and what he'd do to protect those people. He wasn't there for Finch and he knows it, doesn't matter what kind of shit he had going on. Demon or no demon. He should have been there. Jesse bites at a thumbnail and squints back at Finch. ]

Whaddaya need? Ya need anythin'?

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[ Jesse's curled up on his couch, covered in a blanket with a hoodie on, wedged into the cushions like it's protective. He doesn't want to move, doesn't want to go anywhere at all. He doesn't know what Pinkman could bring him - except for company. ]

I dunno. [ He says shakily, resting his head on the arm of the couch. Very, very quietly: ] I just don't wanna be by myself. [ Does that make him weak? Maybe, but he doesn't care right now. Pinkman's seen him worse, really. ]

[magnets]

[ At once, Jesse stops chewing his fingernail long enough to regard Finch with a bit of worry, something mixed with some mild confusion before a careful idea starts to grow over his face, as if it's his own instead of what Finch has literally just tentatively asked for. ]

You want some company?

[ Even if they're just sitting there, not saying anything, it's a hell of a lot better than being stuck with nothing but your own thoughts. ]

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[ Jesse - he wants someone to come cover the camera for him, because it's staring at him and he can't get off the couch. Somewhere he knows it's stupid and childish and irrational but he can't shake that fear that something's underneath, and it's waiting to grab his ankles and pull him down if he gets up. So he can't. Pinkman offers to keep him company and Jesse looks a little relieved, biting his lip. ]

Yeah. Please. [ He doesn't often say please, not like this - but he feels like he needs to, now. He can feel the panic at the emptiness of the room getting to him, now that he's realized. ]

[magnets]

Ow, motherfuck -

[ And that's Jesse, already tripping over himself to get up off his bed and out of his own thoughts, some greater mission than his damn wallowing already well in mind. He kicks on his shoes and taps a finger with some kind of importance against the communicator, leaning a bit more into it. ] You got a plan, guy. Just hold tight.

[ It's not like it's a long walk to the house anyway, a brisk one with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, and the flat of his palm a few times at the door that comes out of nowhere, loud and present and hopefully not something to scare Finch out of his own skin when Jesse shows up. ] Ya still hangin'?

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[ It does startle Jesse, but that applies in most situations lately. He nearly jumps out of his skin at the banging on the door and for a moment his brain jumps to a really dark place - and then he can breathe again, rubbing at his face. The door should be open, so thankfully Jesse doesn't need to get up. ]

Still here. [ Jesse says loudly enough for Pinkman to hear, curling into the couch. He looks smaller than normal, pale, underfed and exhausted, like he's sick. ]

[magnets]

[ The no answer worries him at first, and he almost pushes his way into the house right then, too worried about whatever it is that's going on in Finch's mind right now to deal with pleasantries and manners. The sound of the guy's voice has him letting out a quiet sigh of relief. ]

[ He's gonna take the call out for enough of an invitation, opens the door a crack and sticks his face in before the rest of him enters. Now it's almost catlike, a quiet kind of approach with his hands twittering anxiously at his sides. He shrugs a shoulder, tries to shrug off the sick feeling in his stomach with it and just gestures to Finch. ]

Well, you look like shit.

[ Said jocularly, a half a familiar smile on his face, but without as much of the mirth as it would have had were this under a more normal circumstance. ]

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[ Jesse snorts at that, curling up more tightly with his arms around his knees. ] Feel like it, too. [ He mumbles, trying to act as normal as he can. It's hard, but - for whatever reason he just doesn't want to be that panicky, fallen-apart mess in front of Pinkman. He looks up at Pinkman, then past him, at the camera in the room, and then back down to the couch. ] You can sit if y'want, m'not gonna break.

[magnets]

Ya sure, man?

[ It wouldn't be the first time, and it's definitely a look he recognizes, aches a little for Finch but he's not about to say that out loud. He doesn't know what it feels like to die, definitely doesn't know what it's like coming back. It's got him wary for reasons he can't quite put his finger on. ]

[ But he doesn't sit yet, follows Finch's line of sight backwards and shrugs off his jacket. ] I ain't no therapist, ya know. [ He offers, uselessly, as he makes his way over to the camera and up on his tip toes, throws his jacket over the thing and turns back to Finch, a hand rubbing at his arm. ] You eaten anything?

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[ He snorts at that, and he's going to reply in regard to the therapist comment, but Pinkman heads over to the camera and covers it, and it stops him. Not because it's awful or terrible, but because Pinkman did it without making a huge deal out of it, and without asking. It makes all the difference, and Jesse actually sort of just sits and half smiles at Pinkman for a moment before answering. ]

Had some pie earlier. [ Jesse tells him, curling back into the couch. ] Could use something else. I dunno it's settling so well. [ He rests his head back on the arm of the couch and huddles up. He looks a little better now that the camera's covered up, anyway. Pinkman's a hero, even if he doesn't think he is. ]

[magnets]

[ He doesn't make a big deal out of it at all, just turns back to Jesse and hooks his thumbs into his belt loops, adjusting his pants as casually as he can. The smile's nice. He's not going to deny that. It's a start. ]

You had some pie. [ He says blankly, almost sarcastically. ] Anyone ever told ya you eat worse than me? [ Which is saying something, about this scrawny little spitfuck. ] Whadda we got in here anyway? [ He rolls up his sleeves and starts towards the kitchen, claps a hand against the door frame. ] You don't gotta come if ya ain't ready. I can yell fine.

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[ It makes him sort of laugh, a little half-choked sort of noise, and he sinks further into the sofa, watching Pinkman go. ] Was all I could - I could get. [ He says, sounding a little exhausted. ] I - I dunno what we got, anything's fine.

[ He's not really hungry, but he'll eat if Pinkman asks him to. It helps that Pinkman seems to know exactly how to handle him. Makes him wonder. ]

[magnets]

Yeah, well, it's better than nothin', at least.

[ He's disappearing into the kitchen for a moment, rooting around in the cupboards for- whatever food might be left in here, he's really not expecting much. He calls out, ] Why's everyone only ever got, like, beans? Was there some kinda beans apocalypse nobody told me 'bout?

[ And appears at the doorway again, clapping both hands onto a can. ] Yo, ya got soup stashed here, ya know that?

[ HE'S MAKING YOU SOUP, DEAL WITH IT. ]

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[ Snort. Jesse doesn't look up until Pinkman's at the doorway, and when he does, his hood's up and the blanket's pulled close. This feels better, though. Someone talking to him, keeping him distracted. It makes it easier for him to try. ]

Nah, s'just - just a nuke town, y'know? Case of explosions. [ He doesn't actually know if that's true, but whatever. ] Didn't know we had soup. Can't ever keep tracka stuff we got.

[ PINKMAN'S MAKING HIM SOUP. And it makes that tired smile come back, even if it's buried in the couch. He mumbles his thank you, but he'll repeat it when Pinkman's back. ]

[magnets]

[ He's not really sure what that's referring to, and he just jangles one of the cans of beans he found, deadpanning: ] Exploding beans, more like.

[ And he's back into the kitchen, calling back. ] More like someone was prob'ly hidin' it. Ya keep the good shit in the back'a the cupboard so it don't get stolen, yeah? [ There's some suspect clattering going on in the background, easily portraying what kind of a professional chef skills Jesse's got going on here, but he's determined. Besides, who can't cook a can of soup? ]

[ He reemerges after a minute or two, plops himself on the other end of the couch that Finch isn't occupying. ] So soup's on. That's food down for the count. [ He props up his head on a fist, leans against the arm of the couch. ] Anythin' else ya need?

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[ It's reassuring just to have the noise in the background. With the definite assurance of human life and the camera covered up, Jesse feels like he can breathe a little easier. When Pinkman comes back in, Jesse offers him another little smile, shaking his head. ]

Nah. Nah, that's - s'a lot already. [ He's got his arms wrapped around his waist and knees pulled close to his chest, but he's a little more relaxed, anyway. ] Y'wanna just - talk t'me about something? Tell me something. [ He doesn't know what. It's just nice to not have to obsess about Ghoul finding him alone. ] Gotta have stories, you.