cape_kore | audio | forward dated a bit to day 66

[ 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. ]

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'?

[ 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. ]

[ 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. ]

[ 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.

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?

[ 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. ]

[ 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.

[ 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. ]

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. ]

[ 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. ]

[ 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?

[ 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.

Stories, huh -

[ Oh, he had stories; he had plenty of stories stuck in his head that he couldn't quite shake. Wanna hear about the time he almost died in the desert, Finch? Wanna hear about the time he fell through a porta potty roof, what a slit throat looks like up close? Jesse had stories up the wazoo and when his hand kneads tightly into the back of his neck, he looks distressed for a moment. ]

[ He distinctly remembered a time when he had things to talk about that didn't have to do with his goddamn job. ]

There was, uh- [ The panic kind of bleeds away after that brief moment of its being there, and Jesse actually cracks half a smile. ] Back home, I work at a laundry, y'know? One'a those big places, industrial, like. Sucks major, major dick, but a job's a job, I ain't got anything else. Gotta make the green.

[ He sniffs, rubs a hand under his nose. ] So I got this co-worker, right? Sorta, he's kinda- he acts like he's the boss, but he ain't no boss, man, he's just a partner'a mine. Whatever.He's like this real smart dude normally, real genius type'a guy - I got no clue what he's doin' in a job like this sometimes, he just- [ His eyes narrow for a minute, thumb swiping one last time against the side of his nose. ] Never used to think he fit- there. Right, he could be doin' all this shit and he's stuck at a goddamn industrial laundry, can ya imagine?

Whatever, so- [ There's a bit of a throaty chuckle. ] I get to work one day, and he's just suddenly, like- like pants on head retarded, get this. He's got the doors locked down, he's got this crazy, like, bow staff he made outta packing tape, dude was practically wearin' a tin foil hat and hidin' under the tables. Yakkin' on and on about this contamination, Jesse, the place is contaminated. And it's like a fuckin' laundry, how ya gonna contaminate a laundry anyway?

So- [ Another small laugh. ] Here I am thinkin' I'm gonna die. I'm, like, there's somethin' poisonous in the air, there's a goddamn spider swarm gonna crawl out any second and eat me alive, there's somethin' goin' on there, right? He's all, nah, nah, nothin' toxic, wasn't like a chemical thing, there ain't no ebola breakout ready ta wreak havoc on my liver or some shit.

[ His palms splay, his face dead serious for a moment as he looks up at Finch, fixes him with the most deadpan of looks. ] I shit you not, there was a friggin' fly in the place. Alright? A fly. He's, like, shittin' his pants and whining like'a baby over a god. Damn. Fly, in the place, messin' shit up. He shuts down all the, you know, production and crap because- [ He smiles again, shakes his head. ] Because there's a fly buzzin' its weak-ass fly self around.

Seriously. The whole day. Nothin' gettin' done. We gotta string up all these fly traps, those sticky paper things all 'round the place, there ain't nothin' happening. The guy's barely even slept because of this one little bug and we're wastin' time, the real boss is gonna get all mad and- [ Get his boxcutter out, probably. Jesse swallows, his smile dips for the smallest of seconds before he's back into the story. ] You know. Co-worker's, like, throwin' shoes at the ceiling, breakin' lamps. Guy went absolutely nuts.

[ He listens.

It's a great distraction, really. Pinkman's good at telling it, has great timing - and gets a few laughs out of Jesse, weak and tiny as they are. The fly reveal is the best of his laughs, though. And when Pinkman finishes, Jesse just grins at him from his blanket cocoon, thoroughly amused. ]

A fuckin' fly, huh? [ Dude sounds like a nutcase. ] I dunno how the fuck a fly's gonna contaminate laundry neither. Did - did y'actually end up getting the thing? The bug, I mean.

[ Dude might very thoroughly be a nutcase. Jesse doesn't know anymore. ]

[ But it's Finch's reactions that really get him, some sharp little grins that break out over his face when he gets anything out of him, a laugh here and there. They're still small little things but they're better than nothing, and helping the guy out feels better than anything else has lately. ] Right? That's what I'm sayin'. All the chemicals and crap that go into makin'- I mean, you know, laundry stuff, who's gonna notice one little fly?

'Course we did. Took a while, that fuckin' fly had some major fly skills, man. I was tryin' ta get him way up by the ceilin', he landed on this one ladder like a little bitch and fuckin'- [ He pounds a fist into his palm. ] Got'm.

[ Jesse's comfortable, now, curled up in his blanket and hoodie, at ease. He can manage smiles and laughs for Pinkman and that's more than he's felt like all afternoon. But the story is just enough to settle him down further and he can't even remember much about what he was scared of. He's exhausted and it comes out in his expression, even as he's trying to reply. ]

Fuck yeah, man. [ Jesse agrees, resting his head on his knees. ] Oughta list that as a skill, I think. Put it on a resume. [ Little yawn. ] Mr. Miyagi would be proud, right?

[ And maybe he closes his eyes a bit. He's just resting them, shh. He's still listening. ]

Fly Slayer, huh? Sounds like a pretty badass title. [ Another superhero, too; he's always making superheroes. ]

[ He doesn't mind Finch falling asleep on him, much as the guy's trying to stay awake for him - charming, really, but the guy looks so strung out, Jesse figures he needs his rest and pretty damn soon. Looks more relaxed than he did when Jesse first showed up and, hey, he's gonna call that a pretty minor victory for himself. ]

[ He props up his chin on a hand, peering at Finch over his fingers with a bland smile that's encouraging the impending nap here. ] Wax on, wax off, yo.

[ Jesse is a little afraid to sleep, only if he knows he's going to have nightmares when he finally does. But he's fighting a losing battle, honestly, and Pinkman's sort of giving him permission, here, so he can't stop himself. He sighs, slow. Mumbles thanks, quietly, even as he's dropping off.

Seriously, Pinkman is his hero. ]

audio | forward dated a bit to day 66

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WOW SO THIS IS A TAG THAT HAPPENED

THIS IS P FANTASTIC

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