fridgetothefire | 024 ☣ Neesan ;A;

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024 ☣ Neesan ;A;

[She'd known as soon as she saw the door, of course. But she went in anyway, refusing to believe it. The bedroom is blank, impersonal, utterly empty. Just like Junko's had been, after. That seems so wrong, somehow, that two women who were so different, who had left such deep impacts on her, could have the same utter lack of traces behind them. She sits on the chair. It's a little stiff, with that odd new-furniture smell. She pulls her knees up to her chest and just

(if she doesn't react, it's like it hasn't happened)

(if she doesn't move at all, it's like time has gone still, and she doesn't have to face it)

doesn't.]

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[As soon as he gets there, as soon as he sees the door, Jesse thinks he should have known this was coming. On the Barge, of course he should have. Anya's got her own comparisons to make, but all he can think of is the identical hallway a few floors down, another door gone blank over a year ago, and how-- Jesus, how he'd ended up going to Lua for comfort, and how he'd ended up begging her not to leave him behind, too.

He thinks that maybe this was really kind of overdue, in a way.

Which doesn't stop him from getting choked up about it. The blank door is like an old enemy now, but he goes up to it, leans his head and his fists against it, shuts his eyes tight and tries to pull it in.

He thinks about how he got his brain block taken out just a couple of weeks ago. Selfishly, irrationally, suddenly furiously, he thinks that the Admiral must have figured this was a perfect time to test out his commitment to staying on the wagon by himself.]

God-- [He grits his teeth and pounds a fist against the door, just like he had a year ago--

Except this time, it's not locked right. This time, it swings open, and this time someone's inside. He startles, nearly trips into the room itself, staring at the figure in the chair. Anya. He takes a deep breath and wipes at his eyes.] ...Hey.

Edited 2013-08-27 03:46 (UTC)

[Her head jerks up at the noise, face blank at first, then crumpling a little. Her eyes are dry, now, but when she speaks, her voice is wavery and choked.]

Hey, Jesse.

[She might come back, he wants to say, but it dies in his throat; he doesn't have the heart to lie that much to himself, much less her. He comes inside after a second and sits down facing her, leaning his elbows on his knees, staring down at his fidgeting hands.]

I dunno if it makes a difference to you, but I know she wouldn't've left on purpose. Not you.

[It doesn't, he suspects. It didn't for him. It never has.]

[But it does help, for Anya. She's had so many people who chose to leave her behind - Pietro, taking off for the world that Anya could only dream of, her mother sinking into helplessness and apathy, even Bruce choosing his real home and his real son over her. Most days she forgives him for it.]

I know. Thanks.

[Still croaky, but she manages a small nod. She might cry, now, thinking about it, and she blinks hard.]

Edited 2013-08-27 17:47 (UTC)

[He wouldn't judge her, wouldn't even comment if she did; he's still close to tears himself, and if she weren't here right now, he'd probably just let them fall. As it is, his own voice is hoarse, the smile he tries out on her pale and watery.]

Wherever she is, she's probably doing okay. She learned a lot up here, how to take care of herself and all that. [He sniffs once, picks at a nail, forces his eyes to stay raised.] If you need anything -- warden things, I mean, or whatever...

I taught her how to navigate. With the stars, I mean.

That was the first assignment she gave me, to teach her something. So I could feel like I was doing good, I guess, or something.

I wanted it to be useful. But - complicated, too. Because she thinks she isn't smart enough for things, but she is.

[And then she is crying, tears trickling silently down her face. It's the present tense that gets her, right in the gut. She refuses to do anything else. Because, because.]

[He lets out a short, sharp breath like he's been punched in the stomach, but he's nodding along, because she's right. Of course she's right. He'd seen that in Lua way before she'd even started to see it in herself, and she's still not all the way there yet. He rubs a hand over his mouth, breathing in deep to recover.]

She is. She is-- she told me once she wanted to be a nurse, so maybe she can go off and... nurse, now. [And then he remembers all those books he'd asked the Admiral to get her for Christmas, the ones he doesn't even know if she read, and now they're probably not with her -- they're probably gone -- and he clasps his hands tight together, skin whitening around the tattoo ink.

Is it new? Anya had asked him, and he'd said sort of, so maybe she doesn't know just how much he understands of this right now. He clears his throat, brow furrowing slightly.] We were, um, we were friends for a long time, before... We came up together and all.

[She wipes her cheeks uselessly with the blunt sides of her hand.]

Yeah?

[It's a useless thing to say. She likes thinking about it, about Lua getting to be more than she was, feel stronger and happier and free and getting there, with her own friends. One of whom is. Right here.]

She wouldn't have left you, either. We talked a little, after, just - I think she wanted to make sure I was okay with it. She looked so happy.

[She's crying harder now, unfolds a little, legs back to the ground, awkward like a crab over strange terrain. It lets her take deeper breaths.]

I'd never seen her look like that about anybody. She really - you were good. For her.

[Jesse Pinkman has never graduated an inmate or gotten a deal. He's gained a lot over the course of his time on the Barge, but he's lost even more, especially when what's being counted is people. He's slid on and off the wagon half a dozen times, killed, been killed, killed himself, and all he's ever really had to show for it is a stack of bills he doesn't care at all about and scene after scene that's looked exactly like this, mourning over empty cabins.

He's never been good for anybody. No one's ever told him that before.

There wasn't much of a dam left, but what there was breaks now, tears running silent at the corners of his eyes. He sniffles again and grips his hands tighter together till the thin bones very nearly creak.]

I don't know if I... [He swallows hard, changes his mind. They were good for each other. He can admit to that much.] I'm-- I'm glad. She deserved it.

[He wipes his eyes on the corner of his oversized sleeve, finally, and admits, too:] I loved her. I did.

Edited 2013-08-28 04:49 (UTC)

Me too.

[She knew, or she was pretty sure, about him. She thinks Lua loved him to, although she wasn't ready to say it yet, and that's the one thing Anya won't say for her. She watches him cry through the irregular blur of her own tears, thinks of Bruce and Ben and stitches and the space between.]

Can I. Can we -

[It's too stupid, saying it, too strange and stilted. So she sets her hands on her knees and pushes herself up, crosses the step and a half between them, presses into a hug, hopes it's okay.]

[It seems obvious when she gets up, and he realizes instantaneously that he should have been the one to do it, that he's the one closest to in charge, here, but it hadn't even occurred to him. It's not that he doesn't hug: it's that people don't really hug him, and maybe that means he's just never gotten into the habit right.

But God, it's okay, of course it's okay. He might be skinny, but he's strong, and he stands and pulls her in good and tight and, with all his soft baggy layers, very warm.

It's gonna be okay, he should say, or something like that, but he doesn't. He just puts a hand on the back of her head and holds her against him, and lets himself mourn silently.]

[She holds him tight right back, sniffles into his shirt. She hasn't let herself think about it not being okay, because no matter how bereft she feels, she has too many people believing in her - Lua herself most of all and she will not let that go - to allow herself to be anything less. She's just not going to be happy in the meantime. Maybe for a long while. But this is better than sitting by herself, just having someone to hold onto, knowing he feels the same way right now.

She doesn't let go for a long while.]

[He doesn't either, and that much is and remains okay. Jesse puffs up and blusters and prickles and snarls at people sometimes, and he might not think to hug someone instead, but the truth is that this is what he's got all the time and room in the world for. He soaks up affection like a particularly thirsty sponge, and lets it back easily into the world.

Now, she's holding him, so he holds her right back up until the moment he feels like she's ready to pull away, and maybe a second longer besides. By that point, he's still teary, but they're no longer flowing, and something's settled again in his chest. He smooths down her hair and pulls away, ignoring the darker stain bloodying his red shirt.]

[She sniffs a bit, wipes her cheeks again, with her fingers this time, It feels more adult, somehow. She's still close even when she pulls back, in his space, in his air, in easy reach, unwilling to fully separate their orbits.]

...do you have a TV in your place?

I mean, that sounds so shallow, uhg, just. We used to watch dumb stuff together, when I was really upset. Just so I'd have something else to put in my head than all the thoughts trying to eat other.

[She could really use Gossip Girl and hot chocolate right now.]

[He's caught off-guard by the question, but he laughs a little -- not because it's funny at all, but because it's unexpected.]

Yeah. Yeah, uh, I guess you've never been over at my place. [Because there are basically three things in the living room, and one of them is the giant TV.] Yeah, I've got a kick-ass TV. It's huge.

[And even that's a little fraught with memory right now, because he adds, smile going a little strained:] It even gets the Discovery Channel. She, um... she hooked that up for me for Christmas last year.

We should watch it then, sometime. Even though I'm not totally sure what that is. It sounds great.

[Not that it will ever magically become less fraught. But when it's less actively painful, for him, for both of them.]

It is. [Despite himself, he brightens a little. Not much, but a little.] It's all kinds of, like, nature shows, but not the lame kind, and there's one where guys drive on ice... and there's a whole week on sharks, although that's over now. But I think I got a DVD somewheres, if you wanted to see some of that. And there's this one where guys mostly blow shit up, but, like, for science.

I would definitely watch guys blow stuff up for science.

[She even smiles a little, weakly, back. It sounds kind of flawless, as far as she can tell.]

Yeah? [He glances around, and it's like he's really noticing the room for the first time: the blank walls, the furniture-by-rote. He grimaces a little. He's sound enough to know that they really need to get the hell out of here.

It's not, he thinks, like she'll be back in here.]

You wanna go now?

[She sniffs, then nods.]

Yeah, let's - good idea.

[They could both use a distraction right now.]

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024 ☣ Neesan ;A;

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CW sorry! suicide reference within

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