audio | forward dated a bit to day 66

[rigging]

[ 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

[rigging]

[ 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.

WOW SO THIS IS A TAG THAT HAPPENED

[magnets]

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.

THIS IS P FANTASTIC

[rigging]

[ 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.

[magnets]

[ 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.

[rigging]

[ 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. ]

[magnets]

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.

[rigging]

[ 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. ]