( There is a hand written invitation addressed to Master Pinkman inviting them to a potluck dinner among friends on November 22nd, at Apartment 403. They're asked to RSVP at their earliest convenience, though the phrasing is more along the lines of, "If there's anyone else you'd really like to have come along, go ahead and bring them! This is super informal and I thought a kind of Thanksgiving could be nice."
Probably the only surprising part of this entire invitation (past it's arrival in the first place) is the neat, flowing cursive handwriting it's been authored with. Collette has a bold, big way of writing... or something. )
[This is stupid. Why even do it? But she has nothing else going on, there's no mission, and it's - nice to be back in her own body again. Though she feels an all-new pity for Vanadi. Rin doesn't even want to think about that too much, though.
Maybe that's why. It's a distraction. And Jesse swapped too. She's still kind of mad at him, about the tattoo and other things, but oh well, time to hack through it. Rin bangs on his apartment door yet again. A sense of deja vu accompanies the action. She'll slice through the door again if she's got to. That wouldn't be too bad, even! Kind of funny.
Bang bang bang, in the meantime. Open up, Pinkman.]
[Jesse's in bed, which is where he's been ever since he got his body back. Practically comatose. But he's not drugged this time (which is the whole problem, really) so he hears the knocking and drags himself up and shuffles over to the door to pull it open.
He looks terrible. Pale. Eyes puffy and red. On the door knob, his hand is shaking. When he sees it's Rin, he looks away uncomfortably and steps aside with a gesture for her to come in.]
[ It's morning okay IT JUST IS, and she is still so very unsure of how to use this thing sometimes. ]
Good morrow to you, Master Pinkman. It is I, Mistress Boleyn, calling upon you. I pray I do not disturb you while you break your fast, but I seem to have taken issue with my medicine. I feel it urgent to address before another night has passed, and so I would see you at your earliest convenience.
Sorry for getting in touch with you out of the blue, but I was told that you work at one of the labs and were a good person to talk to. I was hoping to try and some samples of different metallic salts to use for changing the color of glass, if that would be okay. Sorry if that isn't possible, I hope it was okay to ask.
After he confirms his suspicions — that Walt isn't just gone, but gone-gone — he returns to 509 and stares at his bedroom ceiling for a solid hour. He thought he'd be relieved enough to cheer, but he's not and he doesn't; he's exasperated. He's tired. It's always something, here and back home, and that something always seems to bring him to Jesse.
If he doesn't tell the kid about this ASAP, he might freak out. Saul can hear it now: Mr. White didn't show up to work. He can see the look on Jesse's face, too, all puppy-eyed and annoyed and panicked. He's been on the receiving end of that look enough for one lifetime and then some, which wouldn't be a problem if it didn't stir up so much guilt. But it does.
No wonder Jesse doesn't trust him, when Saul makes this all so obvious.
But this is business, technically speaking. This is a situation involving two of Saul's clients, one of whom is still very much here, and Saul isn't going to shrug off professional responsibility just because he's afraid of unintentionally pissing Jesse off again. If he decides to shoot the messenger, so be it.
He makes the trip one floor down some time around 9:30, hoping that Jesse hasn't left to start his day yet, and knocks.]
[Jesse's barely even awake yet. He's only just managed to get himself dressed, his limbs all heavy and weak with the residual effects of the tranquilizer he uses to get to sleep every night. He's just about to have a bump when he hears the knock at the door. And that's weird. Most people know better than to drop by 409 before noon. He shoves the meth back into his pocket and shuffles over to the door to answer it.
[Even though he was waiting for it, he takes his sweet time walking over to the door to open it. And of course he didn't clean up. He hasn't bathed or shaved in a few days. He's probably even been wearing the same clothes the whole time. Enjoy that, Sonya. He doesn't greet her. He simply steps back to let her in before she decides to shove past him or something.]
[Sometime after Steph's post, a trio of slightly bumpy oranges appear outside Jesse's bedroom. One one is a Sharpie drawn face, a joke from an old movie that Jesse might recognize. And on it a note: I had to let an old lady pretend I was her grandson all day for these so you better eat one.
On the other two? Nipples...it's the thought that counts.]
Uh, hey. Heard you were sick, so... I hope you get better soon.
[Leaving messages is so fucking awkward. Okay, she's definitely taking typing lessons because she never wants to go through this again when trying to be friendly and well-adjusted. Waaaay too much effort to not hang up.]
Guess you don't need to worry about medicine, huh?
Anyway. Take it easy. You can go heavy on the chocolate cookies next month.
It was announced that you have fallen ill by a woman I know naught of. I know not what affliction a cold is exactly, but the way in which it was described can only speak of the worst scourge. This weighs heavy on my heart, and now forces my earlier reluctance into complete grievance with this mission they wish for me to humor.
Please, I would know of your current welfare before I must part, or I cannot entertain the thought in the least. I have been praying for you, and will continue to do so, for I know in my bones that it is not yet time for God Almighty to lay judgment upon you.
[Somehow, she manages to find enough composure to stay at the table for the rest of the day, even when Jesse and Saul show up and she clenches her fists so hard that she cuts into her palms. She doesn't look at Saul, and can't look away from Jesse.
She's so angry that it hurts but if what Sonya said is true, she has to talk to Jesse about it first, he has that right, no matter how angry she is at Saul.
At the end of the day, once everyone has gone and the tent is packed up, she stands outside the door to Jesse's apartment and tries to remember how to breathe.
After about ten minutes of standing there, she finally manages to knock.]
[Jesse's a little quicker to answer the door than he has been, lately. He doesn't look a whole lot better than he did earlier, at the tent, but it's a vast improvement from the last time they spoke, at least. He gives her a dimly suspicious look when he sees her, silence taking the place of his usual 'sup?]
So can you explain to me why Steph showed up in my room in the middle of the night last night, slept in bed with me, stayed way the hell past noon and let me make her breakfast?
Because given the events of the past week I'm really confused?
[It's taken Lisbeth almost two weeks to swallow her pride about it all. She's taken that time to really think about how she felt. Was she angry with Saul? No. He didn't do anything wrong. With Steph? No, she got dragged into this mess.
Had she even been mad with Jesse? No.
Lisbeth is mad at herself for being so insensitive. When his attitude took a downturn, she reacted in a way that made her turn to her work. She thought he was having another episode and that thought was selfish. She's not used to admitting she is.
When she walks into the apartment, Lisbeth drops her bag on the couch.]
[Jesse isn't mad at Lisbeth. To him, it's a relief that she wasn't around to see the worst of it, to see him snap and break and then wither the way he has been since things came to a... well, not a resolution. He has to take things on faith, so nothing is resolved. He holds weakly to the belief that Mr. White is gone and not out there waiting to strike, and that Saul hasn't betrayed him, and that Steph will be there to help him if something goes down. He has to hold onto these things, because the alternative is too much to bear.
Lisbeth draws him out of his misery, if only temporarily. A light comes to life in his eyes when he looks at her, as he does right now, from his place on the other end of the couch.]
[She has no idea what time it is. It's dark out, still, but she's been operating on autopilot since leaving the party, heading back to her apartment to strip out of her Batgirl suit, shower, and clean up her wounds. There's burns on her skin, a few shallow cuts from Vanadi's blades, and one deep one on her leg that she has to stitch up.
She tries to call Saul, and has a tiny bit of a breakdown when there's no answer and her fears are confirmed, but eventually she manages to pick herself back up, because there's someone she has to talk to.
Which is how she ends up at Jesse's apartment at something approaching four in the morning, her hair wet and dressed in loose civvies. She doesn't bother knocking, if the door is locked she'll just pick it, and then she's pushing it open and walking inside. She's not too surprised when she sees Jesse on the couch rather than in his bed.]
Jesse?
[Maybe she should be worried about freaking him out, but thoughts like that are a little beyond her, right now.]
[He does freak out. It wouldn't be so unusual for someone to stumble in drunkenly for a late visit after a night of partying, but when he picks his head up and looks over toward the door, that's obviously not what's going on. At all.
He's off the couch in two seconds, rushing over to her with his arms out like he's ready to catch her or grab onto her shoulders or something. Only he doesn't. His hands just kind of hover like that.]
[Immediately after the meeting, Saul calls Jesse. His voice is a little hoarse, but he's not angry, not panicking... he's calm. Steady. Trying to be reassuring, because he knows how Jesse's going to react to the news.]
Page 1 of 2