[ Walt remembers thinking: if I can just make it to Jesse...he'll do the rest. It's a struggle to walk or to move or even think. His mind is fuzzy at best -- limbs not fully cooperating as he ambles like a drunkard to Jesse's place. The destination is so ingrained in his mind, at least he doesn't have to think about how to get there. He probably knows the way to Jesse's far better than he knows the way to his own home.
He feels a sense of relief as he reaches the familiar door. Everything is okay. Everything is going to be fine. All he has to do is knock. Walt raises his hand to do just that, but it falls short -- and so does he, collapsing in front of Jesse's room with an unceremonious thud. ]
[The weird phone call he got earlier has had Jesse on-edge all night, but without any way of tracking Walt down, the only thing he could do was wait and wring his hands.
The thud outside his door is exactly the kind of sign he's been waiting for. Jesse leaps to his feet and throws the door open.]
- Shit! Jesus... Mr. White!
[He doesn't bother to try moving Walt, dropping to his knees so that he can grip Walt's face instead. No hesitation, no questioning how deadly Walt's affliction might be - Jesse immediately sets to taking it upon himself.]
[ The fortunate thing is that it's all chemical. Jesse's body will metabolize it in an instant. Walt lets out a little moan when he's moved, eyes heavy-lidded and fighting to remain open. It becomes easier when Jesse lifts the drug from his system. Awareness comes to him more and more, and once he's clean -- he sits upright immediately. Walt has a residual headache, but it's nothing compared to the rush of relief at being able to use his limbs again. ]
We have to get inside. I don't know what I told him. He could be coming after you, though.
[ He rises and helps Jesse up as well, tossing a paranoid glance over his shoulder as he ushers them into Jesse's dorm, slamming the door shut and sealing it off with the lock. ]
[His regeneration isn't quite instantaneous, so it's lucky that Walt's holding onto him. It's tranquilizer or something, making his limbs all noodley. The words coming out of Walt's mouth are really confusing.]
[ Walt gently guides Jesse over to the couch. Now, more than ever, he needs Jesse on his side. ]
Chilton. He's dangerous, Jesse. I knew he was. But it's more than I realized. I thought he was just some psychiatrist obsessed with being the one to analyze people and their deepest, darkest secrets. But it goes beyond that. Way beyond that.
[ He's a bit panicked. The whole thing is terrifying, really. And for Walt to have such a fear response, you know it has to be bad. ]
He has a basement. He keeps people locked in cages and watches them drive themselves mad. He has a whole safe of pharmaceuticals. And he implied, eventually, that's where he wants to keep me. The thing was, Jesse, there were signs that people had been there. Claw marks. Old blood. Damage to the cages. But there were no people.
[ He puts his head in his hands. ]
I don't know what he did to me. I don't remember...
[ And that is the most terrifying thing of all. His wrists bear the signs of being chained up, there's a red, inflamed mark on his throat where he was injected with whatever Chilton hit him with -- but other than that, nothing else to tell him what happened. ]
[Okay, the words coming out of Walt's mouth are making even less sense the more he talks, though Jesse's quickly sobering up. If it wasn't for the physical evidence, he would say Walt must have had a nightmare or something. Chilton? Seriously?]
We're safe here.
[Let that be the first assurance he gives Walt. Emma Frost isn't going to let someone like that wander around the school grounds without intervening, he's pretty sure.]
[ Walt vigorously rubs his face with his hands before he looks at Jesse. ]
You know what we have to do.
[ There isn't any other option. Not anymore. ]
I'm his target. But you could have entered his radar now, too. We have to make sure that even if he comes back to life, he will never think about coming after us again.
[ Walt squints, trying to remember anything that might help. ]
He....he has the same ability as I do, I think. Or something similar. One of the last things I remember is him grabbing my wrist and everything starting to fade. You can't let him touch you.
[This is all a lot to process, but Mr. White's plan sounds like - well, like the opposite sort of tactic you ought to take with someone like Chilton.]
We kill this guy, ain't that just gonna, um, confirm he's on the right track with you? Like, letting him on to the fact that we're murderers? 'cause he'll almost definitely come back to life, Mr. White.
So... You didn't kill him, and he didn't kill you, but - He let you get away, so what's that mean? What if it's a trap, Mr. White? Like... What if he's hoping you'll try something? What if he's got a plan for that?
[ His hands curl into trembling fists. What does Walt do about it if killing him isn't an option? Walt reaches up, closing his fingers around his hair. ]
If I don't do something, Jesse, I wind up locked in his cage and becoming his lab rat. I don't have a choice.
[It's definitely time for him to do the same old trick he used to use on Joel. Jesse reaches up to lay his hand against the back of Walt's neck, offering a comforting squeeze. And also relieving some of that emotional distress, there. Let him speak to a less panicked Mr. White so they can think about this rationally.]
[Jesse clenches his jaw and remains silent for a moment, waiting for the wave of stolen aggravation to pass. Once he's stabilized, his hand slides to Walt's shoulder.]
If you make a move now, he'll know he scared you. You ain't gonna get locked up. I promise, I won't let you. And you're stronger than he is, and you won't fall for the same mistake twice, so there's nothing to worry about.
[It terrifies him, actually, that Walt apparently found out about the cancer thing, didn't even say anything to him, and went on to cook a batch without him. It says he's expendable at best, and competition at worst.
And, knowing what becomes of the competition, Jesse thinks back to the other night. He was missing time. He ended up in bed somehow, when the last thing he remembers about that night is getting into his car. Stuff like that doesn't happen to him anymore. He doesn't just black out anymore.
I guess nothing leaves a mark on me, so, what - just make sure I don't remember it and it's like it never happened? How many times have you done that? You come here and hurt me every night? Is that why you're here now?
[ Walt yells, rising to his feet suddenly and rearing back on Jesse. As he looks at him his expression crumbles and his voice softens. ]
No. Jesse, please. Listen to me. You're getting carried away here. I haven't done anything to you. I'm not hiding in your shadows, torturing you and erasing your memories at night. I'm not....I'm not Chilton.
[ His expression is pleading as he watches Jesse. The truth? Walt debates telling it. Chilton's words come to mind. You tell people the truth you want them to believe because it's the truth YOU want to believe. There's a break in his voice as he closes his eyes. ]
I was here, yes. Sunday night. I wanted to know why you healed my cancer against my will, but I knew you would never tell me the truth. So I sedated you, got you to relax as though you drank a little too much and asked you then. That's it. That's all I did. And I brought you to bed, tucked you in and left. I guess the sedative had a stronger side-effect than I anticipated and you didn't remember it when you woke up. But I didn't outright erase it from your memories, Jesse. I'm not even capable of doing that.
[ He opens his eyes and looks at Jesse. ]
I know it was wrong. And I'm sorry, but I just needed to know why. Why you would condemn me to living a full life when I don't deserve to...
[Maybe it wasn't. Jesse's confident that whatever he said under the influence wouldn't have been damning, that he had no ulterior motives in saving Mr. White's life. But the future's probably given Walt plenty of reasons to doubt him.
Still, he feels sick. Walt had said for himself, in that broken snippet of conversation Jesse had caught over the phone: "I did this same thing to Jesse... just the other day." Part of him had recognized that he was like Chilton. And if he doesn't recognize that drugging people to pull the truth out of them isn't majorly fucked up, then -
No. Even Mr. White recognizes it. He just doesn't like the way it sounds.]
And now you came to me tonight because... Because you knew I'd heal you? Or because you knew I'd kill him for you? What was your plan if all this didn't happen, now you're cooking again without me? 'cause that makes us not partners anymore, right? Help me understand this, Mr. White. 'cause I gotta know if I don't have a choice anymore. Can you just tell me? Tell me I don't have a choice.
[It'll hurt so much less if they aren't supposed to be friends.]
[ And he mentally curses Chilton for causing yet another destruction. Jesse is a mess right now and Walt needs to rein him back in before he does something stupid. He sits down beside him again, reaching his hand out to rest on his shoulder -- his tone is gentle, loving. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Either late 3-23 or early 3-24
He feels a sense of relief as he reaches the familiar door. Everything is okay. Everything is going to be fine. All he has to do is knock. Walt raises his hand to do just that, but it falls short -- and so does he, collapsing in front of Jesse's room with an unceremonious thud. ]
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The thud outside his door is exactly the kind of sign he's been waiting for. Jesse leaps to his feet and throws the door open.]
- Shit! Jesus... Mr. White!
[He doesn't bother to try moving Walt, dropping to his knees so that he can grip Walt's face instead. No hesitation, no questioning how deadly Walt's affliction might be - Jesse immediately sets to taking it upon himself.]
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We have to get inside. I don't know what I told him. He could be coming after you, though.
[ He rises and helps Jesse up as well, tossing a paranoid glance over his shoulder as he ushers them into Jesse's dorm, slamming the door shut and sealing it off with the lock. ]
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Huh..?
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Chilton. He's dangerous, Jesse. I knew he was. But it's more than I realized. I thought he was just some psychiatrist obsessed with being the one to analyze people and their deepest, darkest secrets. But it goes beyond that. Way beyond that.
[ He's a bit panicked. The whole thing is terrifying, really. And for Walt to have such a fear response, you know it has to be bad. ]
He has a basement. He keeps people locked in cages and watches them drive themselves mad. He has a whole safe of pharmaceuticals. And he implied, eventually, that's where he wants to keep me. The thing was, Jesse, there were signs that people had been there. Claw marks. Old blood. Damage to the cages. But there were no people.
[ He puts his head in his hands. ]
I don't know what he did to me. I don't remember...
[ And that is the most terrifying thing of all. His wrists bear the signs of being chained up, there's a red, inflamed mark on his throat where he was injected with whatever Chilton hit him with -- but other than that, nothing else to tell him what happened. ]
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We're safe here.
[Let that be the first assurance he gives Walt. Emma Frost isn't going to let someone like that wander around the school grounds without intervening, he's pretty sure.]
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You know what we have to do.
[ There isn't any other option. Not anymore. ]
I'm his target. But you could have entered his radar now, too. We have to make sure that even if he comes back to life, he will never think about coming after us again.
[ Walt squints, trying to remember anything that might help. ]
He....he has the same ability as I do, I think. Or something similar. One of the last things I remember is him grabbing my wrist and everything starting to fade. You can't let him touch you.
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[This is all a lot to process, but Mr. White's plan sounds like - well, like the opposite sort of tactic you ought to take with someone like Chilton.]
We kill this guy, ain't that just gonna, um, confirm he's on the right track with you? Like, letting him on to the fact that we're murderers? 'cause he'll almost definitely come back to life, Mr. White.
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[ His hands curl into trembling fists. What does Walt do about it if killing him isn't an option? Walt reaches up, closing his fingers around his hair. ]
If I don't do something, Jesse, I wind up locked in his cage and becoming his lab rat. I don't have a choice.
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[ Walt repeated, a bit more calm after Jesse's touch. ]
Unless I give him what he wants. Unless I confess to everything. Then there's nothing more he can find out...nothing else to keep him invested.
[ Crane had suggested it at some point -- that it might be a good tactic. ]
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If you make a move now, he'll know he scared you. You ain't gonna get locked up. I promise, I won't let you. And you're stronger than he is, and you won't fall for the same mistake twice, so there's nothing to worry about.
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[ He shakes his head and laughs at the absurdity of it all. Walt had completely underestimated Frederick Chilton. ]
Even if I want to escape my past, I can't. There will always be enemies, even in this new world. And I'll always fall back into old habits.
[ And eventually, someday, Jesse too would be his enemy. Walt looks over at Jesse because being angry at him now seems so meaningless and petty. ]
I started cooking again.
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Here.
Without me.
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[ Walt answers -- short and clipped. ]
I was upset with you at the time.
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...Are you still? Upset with me.
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No. You took my cancer away. But I can understand why you did it.
The day when I first found out -- you can understand why I wouldn't invite you to cook with me, can't you?
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[It terrifies him, actually, that Walt apparently found out about the cancer thing, didn't even say anything to him, and went on to cook a batch without him. It says he's expendable at best, and competition at worst.
And, knowing what becomes of the competition, Jesse thinks back to the other night. He was missing time. He ended up in bed somehow, when the last thing he remembers about that night is getting into his car. Stuff like that doesn't happen to him anymore. He doesn't just black out anymore.
The phone call. The phone call...]
What'd you do to me?
[He's whispering, he can hardly find his voice.]
The other night... You did something to me.
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That isn't important.
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I guess nothing leaves a mark on me, so, what - just make sure I don't remember it and it's like it never happened? How many times have you done that? You come here and hurt me every night? Is that why you're here now?
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[ Walt yells, rising to his feet suddenly and rearing back on Jesse. As he looks at him his expression crumbles and his voice softens. ]
No. Jesse, please. Listen to me. You're getting carried away here. I haven't done anything to you. I'm not hiding in your shadows, torturing you and erasing your memories at night. I'm not....I'm not Chilton.
[ His expression is pleading as he watches Jesse. The truth? Walt debates telling it. Chilton's words come to mind. You tell people the truth you want them to believe because it's the truth YOU want to believe. There's a break in his voice as he closes his eyes. ]
I was here, yes. Sunday night. I wanted to know why you healed my cancer against my will, but I knew you would never tell me the truth. So I sedated you, got you to relax as though you drank a little too much and asked you then. That's it. That's all I did. And I brought you to bed, tucked you in and left. I guess the sedative had a stronger side-effect than I anticipated and you didn't remember it when you woke up. But I didn't outright erase it from your memories, Jesse. I'm not even capable of doing that.
[ He opens his eyes and looks at Jesse. ]
I know it was wrong. And I'm sorry, but I just needed to know why. Why you would condemn me to living a full life when I don't deserve to...
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[Maybe it wasn't. Jesse's confident that whatever he said under the influence wouldn't have been damning, that he had no ulterior motives in saving Mr. White's life. But the future's probably given Walt plenty of reasons to doubt him.
Still, he feels sick. Walt had said for himself, in that broken snippet of conversation Jesse had caught over the phone: "I did this same thing to Jesse... just the other day." Part of him had recognized that he was like Chilton. And if he doesn't recognize that drugging people to pull the truth out of them isn't majorly fucked up, then -
No. Even Mr. White recognizes it. He just doesn't like the way it sounds.]
And now you came to me tonight because... Because you knew I'd heal you? Or because you knew I'd kill him for you? What was your plan if all this didn't happen, now you're cooking again without me? 'cause that makes us not partners anymore, right? Help me understand this, Mr. White. 'cause I gotta know if I don't have a choice anymore. Can you just tell me? Tell me I don't have a choice.
[It'll hurt so much less if they aren't supposed to be friends.]
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[ And he mentally curses Chilton for causing yet another destruction. Jesse is a mess right now and Walt needs to rein him back in before he does something stupid. He sits down beside him again, reaching his hand out to rest on his shoulder -- his tone is gentle, loving. ]
I came to you because we're partners.
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