Chapter Text
It is hers. Hers, and no one else's. There would be no sharing, no others to distract it, to pull it from her arms and away. She hadn’t had one in so long, too long. Always hungry, that aching, all-present, bone-shaking need that hovers and shrieks like birds captive in her skull.
But this one needs too, that is why it is easy to pick off. Weak, she knows, damaged, she is sure, looking for someone, anything, to balm those hurts. She listens to it sleep, through the walls, slips into its dreams—she touches nothing, not yet, now is the time to watch, to gather. Sometimes, she sits with it as it sleeps, smells sweat and smoke and cheap food. Sometimes, she brushes the soft honey-colored strands from its forehead, watches as her touch eases its restlessness.
It comes to her, without even a struggle, in its eyes the deep weariness of life and futility. She plays the game—rejection and flirtation, mixed and muddy messages, until its head is spinning, twisted up and every way around her finger. And finally, finally, she gives in, takes a taste of what will be hers: a kiss, a simple kiss that is so much more. A link, she knows, until it dies.
It thinks it is breathless from the kiss, floored from their passion. It does not see the new flush in her skin, the luster spread down each strand of hair. Her hunger purrs, slips into a quiet murmuring she can almost force into the background. Almost.
She holds its hand, mimics the smile it gives her. And she knows, as it gently, reassuringly, squeezes her hand, that it is hers, now until it is no more.
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Walt knocks, pauses, knocks, repeats. It takes Jesse a full five minutes to answer, something Walt means to point out to him, but changes his mind when he opens the door. The kid is pale—not inside-watching-TV-all-day pale, but sick pale, pale like the people he sits with while undergoing chemo. His eyes are dull, smudges of gray-purple beneath them. Messy hair, and he leans against the door frame like he can’t support himself completely.
“What,” Jesse sighs, none of the usual anger, annoyance, flippancy color his tone. Walt thinks maybe if he is that unwell, it is good that he stopped by.
“We were supposed to meet two hours ago,” Walt thinks he is being patient here, level, and is tested by Jesse’s blank stare. “I called you, I don’t know, fifty times?” Jesse rolls his eyes, leaves the door open for Walt to follow inside; the pile of blankets and sleeping bags Jesse is settling onto is surrounded by empty beer bottles, chip bags, and fast food wrappers.
Jesse scrubs his face with both palms. “Well?” Walt raises his eyebrows, expectant. “No excuses? No ‘sorry I forgot?’, or ‘I was too high to wake up’? Nothing?”
“It’s like, Tuesday, Mr. White. We don’t meet until tomorrow, so get off my back.”
Walt stares at him, mouth open, until he finally, disbelievingly, forces out, “No, Jesse, it is Wednesday, and we were supposed to meet two hours ago. That’s why I called you, that’s why I drove all the way out here. I thought, maybe—but instead, I find you,” he waves a hand at Jesse in general.
He does not expect the confused, almost frightened look on Jesse’s face, lost and quietly scrambling to find direction. “I’m…I don’t know, I’ve been not feeling, not great, for the, uh, past few days, I…I think maybe there’s something wrong—”
Jesse’s head snaps up as Jane slips in through the open door, keeping her distance from Walt as she goes to Jesse’s side. His face goes foggy, losing whatever he was going to tell Walt as she runs long nails through the kid’s hair.
“Hey, you okay?” She asks gently, rubbing his head. She catches Walt watching, smiles like winning a prize, and his frown deepens.
“Uh, yeah. No, I guess, I think I’m just tired,” Jesse manages, leaning into her touch.
Jane smiles again, colder, less like a painted mask, “I think you should go. Now.” She nods to the door, sinks down beside Jesse, who shakes as he grabs for her hand. She whispers into his ear, Jesse closes his eyes, leans his dead back against the wall, and a single tear slips.
Walt leaves, reluctant, confusion raking at his mind. He can still hear Jane murmuring to Jesse as he closes the door behind him.