Disclaimer: I do not own Breaking Bad or any of its characters! I only own my OC, Charlie Macey, and her side of the story.

A/N: The story may be a bit slow to start, because I want to establish my character into the story and get a good feel about how she'll fit in, and it should pick up pretty quickly from there. Enjoy! :)

'Pilot'

"Charlie!"

The mess of long black hair groaned from her spot on the mattress, not adhering to the whispered shout of her name. Still impaired by the heroin in her system, her ability to react quickly to the situation at hand was hindered and causing complications for a certain Jesse Pinkman.

"Charlie!" He hissed again, shaking her awake and grabbing at her discarded clothing, tossing them onto the slowly waking girl. Emilio, his assistant cook, had assumed responsibility for the batch of crystal methamphetamine that was being produced downstairs, originally granting Jesse some alone time with his girlfriend. Unfortunately, the time had very recently been interrupted by a batch of D.E.A agents and a SWAT team breaking down their front door. It was no secret that if caught, all three would face class II felony charges, as well as up to five years in prison and thousands of dollars in fines. Jesse only had a matter of seconds before they discovered the hidden staircase, meaning that he had to get out of here as soon as humanly possible.

"Come on, baby," Jesse assisted the heavily influenced female up from the mattress and into her shirt. "We gotta bounce."

Charlie's 5'7, 100 lb frame was boosted out of the window and onto the roof, her boyfriend soon to follow. He jumped down from the terrace first, and gently coaxed the tiny girl to follow his lead. After a minute of hushed persistence, she followed, falling into his waiting arms with no problem at all. It seemed that they were going to be able to escape Emilio's estate without being caught by the police, but just as Jesse prepared to hop into his car, he locked eyes with a man sitting in one of the squad cars with a bulletproof vest on. He didn't seem like D.E.A – being that he looked fairly alarmed and hadn't radioed for help yet. The man stared back, mouthing the familiar student's names and opening his mouth as if to scream at the police inside the house. It was only safest to assume that they had already captured Emilio. This was already bad news enough; it meant that Jesse lost all of his equipment and cooking space.

Fearing the worst as he realized that the man sitting in the car was him and Charlie's old Chemistry teacher, Jesse raised a finger to his lips and wrapped an arm around his girlfriend, pulling her towards his red Monte Carlo low rider. She stumbled, grabbing onto his t-shirt for support and unable to control the lolling of her head. More gentle words of encouragement followed as Jesse ushered the stoned female into the vehicle and jumped into the driver's seat. The car's engine burst to life and the two roared down the street, safer with each and every kilometer they put between themselves and the D.E.A.

Upon reaching the front door of Jesse's house and being ushered inside, Charlie stumbled towards the kitchen and promptly vomited in the sink. He followed behind her with great concern, pulling her greasy hair back and placing a hand on her forehead. Heroin and cardio was a big no-no, especially considering Charlie's portions were kid-sized bites at every meal. No matter the amount of coaxing or distractions that Jesse pulled on her, she barely managed to keep her system up and running. The only thing saving her was occasional caloric boost from the binges after her munchies acted up – Jesse only had the marijuana to thank for that. Endless scars littered her arms and legs, only covered by her colorful tattoos that seemed to go on forever. On her right arm, her sleeve displayed the ocean, a jungle and a beautiful skyline, topped with as many animals that could have possibly fit into the scene. Scriptures, quotes and symbols were printed across nearly every piece of her skin, save for several secret spots that she had dutifully informed her boyfriend that she was 'saving'.

Charlie retched one last time into the sink and slumped to the kitchen ground, beginning to sob. The meltdown from coming off of a traumatic experience on heroin could be very difficult – especially for someone who'd lost her virginity to rape while she had been under the influence.

"Hey hey hey - we're safe." He rested his chin on the top of her head and shut his eyes, praying to god that the man sitting in the car wouldn't call the police on him. Maybe he had taken pity on Charlie's condition; after all, if he had called the D.E.A on his ass the SWAT cars would have been here by now. It was clear that Charlie still couldn't fully understand him, but even in moments of total obscurity, she recognized the tone of his voice and his touch. It was the perfect example of trust.

|:|

The sun had been down for several hours in Albuquerque by the time Jesse worked up the nerve to emerge from his house. The dirty 2-story building had history to it; it had been his Aunt's before she had passed away, and in her will she had declared her wish to be Jesse's ownership of it. He had been more than happy to make the place home, but refused to do business inside of it. When Charlie had questioned him – sometimes she grew curious about the industry that she was so loyal of a customer to – he patiently explained: 'I don't shit where I eat.'

"Jesse?" A soft slurred voice drew his attention back into the room he was about to leave. Charlie had been sleeping off the effects of the heroin, something that she had been doing more and more recently. It was an expensive habit – one that was being dutifully paid off by her job at Los Pollos Hermanos as a waitress. The low income wasn't raking in major dough, but if she had a good week it would contribute to the savings that they were scraping by on. Recently Jesse's dealing was bringing in more and more cash, which only meant more and more drugs.

"I'm here." He walked back towards the mattress where his girlfriend was nestled under the covers and knelt down on the floor, brushing the hair out of her eyes. "You want anything?"

She squeaked once and yawned, smacking her lips and cringing at the taste. "Po."

Jesse smiled, going to grab her beloved teddy bear at the foot of the mattress and burying it in her hands. "I'm gonna cover the car and then I'll getcha some water, 'kay?"

She made a small noise of recognition, and Jesse found the corners of his mouth turning upwards once again. He laid a final kiss on her forehead before proceeding out the door, bounding down the stairs and grabbing the blue tarp from the garage on the way to his driveway. Beginning at the front of the car, he unraveled the tarp until it covered the yellow New Mexico license plate, which revealed his identity as 'The Cap'n'. It was a stupid name that he and Emilio had come up with after he had placed his secret ingredient – chili powder – in one of their batches. Ratings had gone up in the streets, and Jesse decided to keep it. Besides, it made Charlie laugh when he referred to himself as 'Cap'n Cook'. And he loved the way that she laughed.

Jesse finished wrapping the car up, fully intent on fetching a glass of water for the girl that was plaguing his mind at the moment, when a noise distracted him. He recognized his gate being swung open and quickly grabbed a crowbar from behind his red Kawasaki GPX 750 R. Amidst the chilly September breeze, Jesse could hear faint footsteps heading towards him. This prompted him to raise his head, revealing himself to the trespasser whom was no other than Mr. White.

"Hey! Uh -" Mr. White rose his hands, spotting the crowbar in his former student's hands. "It's me – I'm alone."

Jesse remained close to the ground, putting a hand on his forehead in stress. "How'd you find me?"

"You're still in our filing system." Mr. White took several steps closer to Jesse, prompting the younger man to rise to his feet. "So your Aunt owns this place, right?"

"I own it."

After several more moments of nervous glances back and forth, Walter raised his hands again. "Look," He tried to reason with the obviously tense Jesse. "No ones looking for you."

"Why are you here?" Jesse retaliated, opening his arms in question and backing further away as the older man advanced towards him.

"I was curious," Walt replied truthfully. "Honestly I never expected you'd amount to much…but methamphetamine? I didn't picture that. There's a lot of money in it, huh?"

"I don't know what you're talkin' about."

"No?" Mr. White wasn't buying it.

"Not a clue." Jesse kept his voice low and shook his head, fully prepared to deny until his former teacher left his property. Calling the police was out of question; if he wanted to get rid of this man he would have to either wait him out or kick his ass.

"Cap'n cook? That's not you?" Mr. White moved closer to the car, reaching for the blue tarp and lifting it to reveal the license plate. "Like I said, no one is looking for you."

"I don't know what you think you're doin' here Mr. White," Jesse began to get agitated, not understanding Mr. White's motives. "I mean, if you're plannin' on givin' me some bullshit about getting right with Jesus or something, turning myself in -"

"Not really." Mr. White shook his head.

"High school was a long time ago. You ain't 'Welcome Back, Kotter'," Jesse lifted the crowbar for emphasis. "So step off. No speeches."

"Short speech. You lost your partner today. What's-his-name, Emilio? Emilio's going to prison. The D.E.A. took your money, your lab. You got nothing. Square one. But you know the business, and I know the chemistry. I'm thinking. Maybe you and I…partner up?"

Mr. White left the question hanging in the air while Jesse stared at his former professor with incredulity, not believing his own ears. The silence seemed to last for several awkward moments, neither of them eager to end the pregnant pause.

"You…" Jesse cleared his throat, eyeing the man nervously. "You wanna cook crystal meth? With me?"

Upon Mr. White's nod of approval, a grin spread over Jesse's face. In no way shape or form had he ever imagined his old chemistry teacher to be the first to approach him fresh off of a crime scene and request to cook. The twenty four year old begins to reel in laughter, only sobering when he hears Mr. White's final words.

"Either that, or I turn you in."

That sobered him up quick.

After a quick exchange of phone numbers and addresses, Mr. White bid his new partner a good night and began to walk back towards the gate where he had come in from. Just as he was reaching for the handle, however, something seemed to come over him. He turned to see Jesse regarding him with a wary gaze – clearly he wanted to make sure that the man was gone before he receded back into the home.

"Jesse – your girlfriend…" Mr. White began.

"Charlie." Jesse corrected.

His partner nodded, remembering the sad stories that used to go around the staff room about the Macey family. "You're taking care of her, yes?"

"Why do you think I'm makin' sure you get outta here?" Jesse lifted his chin towards the older man, as if to challenge an attacker. "No one gets in the house."

Mr. White nodded and proceeded to his car, unable to get the image of Charlie's woozy and clearly under the influence facial expression out of his head. He was concerned; that was for dang sure. Charlie and Jesse had first met in freshman year of high school, and at that point Mr. White still remembered both of them as drug- addled teens coming from problematic households. They grew together, encouraged each other and nurtured themselves every step of the way. At one point, Walt remembered running into Jesse comforting Charlie out of a panic attack in the middle of the hallway. He had to hand it to the kid; he was good at dealing with hysterics, even when it was blatantly obvious that Charlie had been under the influence of methamphetamine for the past three days at the time. With a final sigh, Mr. White pulled out of the driveway and tried to forget about the two junkies – one of which he had just made a fairly heavy deal with.

Once he was sure that Mr. White was speeding down the street in the opposite direction, Jesse locked the gate and sped back into the kitchen, lighting a cigarette on the way. Charlie would most likely be asleep, but tomorrow morning she would need water. He filled a glass and carefully transported it upstairs, placing it at arm's length away from the mattress. He had learnt to place it at a certain distance from her after several of her nightmares had resulted in an injured hand. She had a habit of grabbing whatever she could when she was experiencing trauma – which meant every time Jesse felt a tug on his clothing something was wrong. After this many years together they had established a whole other language. Charlie reminded him of Fabienne from Pulp Fiction. Not that he was anything like Butch – in fact Charlie didn't look a thing like Fabienne. But their relationship mirrored the fictional pairs' directly. Just like Fabienne, Charlie was prepared to follow Jesse everywhere and remain loyal to him out of love. She never questioned his fast actions, only stopping to ask questions when the emergencies were over. It was true that home was where the heart was, because ever since she and Jesse had begun to see each other in high school they had been inseparable. Charlie had virtually no belongings; her mother had committed suicide at the age of 35 with no will or money, leaving Charlie to her abusive father who had kicked her out of the house as soon as she was 18. Jesse had pressured her for many years to phone the police before his untimely death, but when it was revealed that Mr. Macey overdosed on his Oxycotin there was no need to cling onto the past. Unfortunately, Charlie's brain didn't let go of things so easily. She was plagued by her anxiety, which Jesse had grown more and more used to every time she collapsed in the hallway from panic attacks or couldn't leave the house for days on end. He grew used to bringing her into the emergency ward when she cut too deep or wasn't waking up from a bad high. He was used to taking care of her; loving her. She clung to him like he was the only thing worth living for, and for several periods of time he sincerely was. There wasn't any other person in the world that Jesse would have wanted to spend his life with, and he knew Charlie felt the exact same way. So amidst all the drug chaos and strange police chases, nothing was going to ward off what they felt for each other. Which meant that cooking with Mr. White wasn't going to change anything between them – even if he was their former professor.

Content with where his current train of thought had ended, Jesse took a last drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out on the ashtray sitting on the floor next to him. He pulled Charlie towards him, reveling in the way that her eyebrows knitted together and her body wrapped itself around him out of routine.

|:|

"He asked you to what?" Charlie frowned, sitting up next to her boyfriend who had just recited yesterday's events.

"Cook."

At first she said nothing, leaning over him to grab the pack of Parliaments sitting on the nightstand along with a lighter. He accepted the stick she offered, taking the orange bic from her hands and lighting both of their smokes. He traced her tattoos and watched her inhale lazily, blowing the smoke out of her nose.

"You said the D.E.A got Emilio?"

Jesse nodded, once again bringing a stressed hand to his face. He had been trying to avoid the pessimistic train of thought but this bust meant that all of his equipment had been stolen, and Mr. White really was his last resort.

"And you said Mr. White threatened to turn you in?" Charlie's eyes narrowed, watching Jesse nod his head as she tried to pick up the final bits and pieces of the story. She had a bad feeling about this Chemistry teacher-turned-criminal. It was suspicious enough that he had been at the lab bust with the D.E.A, but it was even more suspicious that he had followed Jesse home and offered to do business with his former student. Unless he had some ulterior motive, this had the D.E.A's paws all over it.

"But why does Mr. White want to cook meth?" Charlie made a face, looking up at Jesse with confusion in her eyes and voicing her concern over whether or not he was undercover.

"Beats me." Jesse shrugged, flicking bits of ash into the tray. Charlie followed, her jet-black nails created a stark contrast between the white of the cancer stick.

"And you have to meet him today?"

"Yeah," Jesse checked his watch and frowned. "Should be here in an hour. You feelin' okay?"

"Mmmgh."

|:|

One hour later, Charlie brought out two beers for her boyfriend and their old Chemistry teacher, not wanting to make him feel unwelcome in their home. She had been fully intent on greeting the fifty year old as soon as his car pulled into their driveway, but Jesse shifted her inside quickly and begged her to stay put. She gave in eventually, understanding his concerns and how he didn't like to involve her in deals. However her curiosity was peaked when she heard them discussing in the garage, and she paused Half Life 2 for Xbox to creep near the entrance to the garage.

"-this is my house," She heard Jesse's distinct voice from the other side of the door. "Kay? I don't shit where I eat. Nothing touches Charlie."

"Then where are we going to work?" A familiar voice, what must have been Mr. White, reached Charlie's ears. A smile perked up on her face and she placed a hand on the doorknob.

"You tell me. This is your deal, man. You wanna smoke it up, smoke it up at your house." Charlie heard nothing over a couple beats of silence. "Nah. I didn't think so. Oh, well."

"What if we rented a self-storage place? One of those little orange garages? Worked out of there?" Mr. White proposed.

"Nah, they're onto that. They got dogs that sniff around." Her boyfriend sounded begrudged. "RV. That's what you want."

"What, like a Winnebago?" Mr. White sounded confused.

"I know a dude wants to sell his. He just goes camping with it - but a mobile meth lab'd be the bomb. You can drive way out in the boonies. Be all evasive."

At this, Charlie gently pushed the door open and peeked into the garage. At the sound of the door, both men turned and locked eyes with the tiny twenty three year old. Mr. White had always remembered her to be thin like a stick, but upon seeing her again after so much time had passed he found himself wondering if she had lost even more weight.

"Hey baby," Jesse stalked towards her and laid a kiss on her lips. Her eyes remained wide, like a deer in headlights. She had been excited to see her old teacher, but realized now that perhaps the feelings weren't going to be reciprocated. Her and Jesse hadn't exactly paid the most attention in class – and they had been known to hang around with the more disrespectful types in school and Mr. White had never taken a liking to them.

"Hi Charlie," Mr. White smiled and raised a hand towards her, trying to evade the awkwardness of the situation and at the same time let her know that bygones were bygones. She seemed to understand, because a small smile broke out across her face as she looked him up and down.

"Do you guys want pancakes?"

Jesse laughed, his blue eyes twinkling as her stared up at her. Although she ate next to nothing, Charlie could whip up an entire meal out of barely anything when she applied just the right amount of concentration. Their friends – namely Badger, Skinny Pete and Combo – were all very big fans of Charlie's large meals. Even Emilio had been treated to one of her Thanksgiving dinners at one point.

"I'm alright, thank you." Mr. White declined politely, staring at Jesse pointedly. "Is she coming with us to the bank?"

"I dunno – you gonna put on some pants?" Jesse eyed the girl's bare legs, and she bit her lip before nodding, quickly ducking out of sight and shutting the door. Walter shook his head and muttered quietly while staring down at his shoes, visibly uncomfortable.

"What?" Jesse challenged, daring him to make a comment. Mr. White simply offered a small smile before nodding his head in the direction of the door where Charlie had appeared again, wearing large sweats and a raggedy pair of converse. She stuffed a pack of cigarettes and a beaten up looking phone into her pocket. The Chemist noted that she was being swallowed in her massive clothes – in fact she was positively swimming in them. What was obviously Jesse's sweater and sweats seemed like five times her size, and even with all the extra layers she was still shaking like a leaf when they stepped out into the cold September air. Agreeing to meet at the local bank, Mr. White climbed into his own car and led the way towards the upper part of town. It was no surprise to him that the two were living together – what was more surprising was that they weren't married. He had always taken those two to be the brashest kids around; hell, he could safely say he was shocked that Charlie wasn't pregnant. But perhaps they had grown some sense in the short span of time between now and high school – perhaps they had come to their senses about some things.

Both cars pulled up beside each other in the bank's parking lot minutes later, but only Mr. White removed himself from the vehicle and proceeded inside the large building. Ever since he had started speaking with Pinkman, Walter found himself increasingly aware of the amount of security inside stores, financial buildings and even homes. It looked like the criminal life was already starting to affect him.

"This is barely seven grand," Jesse scoffed, flopping the envelope around in his hands once Walt had retrieved the money. "My guy wants eighty five."

"This is all the money I have in the world." Mr. White held onto Jesse's car window and frowned. "You're a drug dealer; negotiate."

"You are NOT how I remember you from class – I mean, like," Jesse smiled and shook his head, still in disbelief that he was going into the meth business with his old chem teacher. "Not at all."

Charlie nodded her head in agreement, biting at her knuckles. It was a nervous habit that she had developed after her father had passed away; he had done the same thing when he was feeling upset or anxious about something. The biting had done serious damage to her skin; her knuckles were constantly red and covered in tiny teeth marks – as if a baby had taken to chewing them all night long.

"I gotta go." Mr. White had obviously finished dealing with Jesse and began to move away from the red vehicle.

"Wait, wait! Hold on," Jesse pulled Charlie's hand away from her mouth absent mindedly, yet another routine that had become habit for them. "Tell me why you're doin' this. Seriously."

"Why do you do it?" Mr. White shot back, looking uncertainly between the two in the car.

"Money, mainly," Jesse rested a hand on the steering wheel, looking to his right and catching Charlie's eye. "For her."

"There ya go." Mr. White began to back away again, seeing the large grin on Charlie's face and a small light spark in her dim eyes.

"Nah, come on!" Jesse shot back, persistent and refusing to believe that Mr. White was only in this for the money. "Nah. Come on, man! Some straight like you, giant stick up his ass…all a sudden at age, what, sixty? He's just gonna break bad?"

"I'm fifty."

"It's weird, is all, okay?" Jesse tried to explain. "It doesn't compute. Listen - if you're like…crazy or something - if you've gone crazy, or depressed." Mr. White shot him a glare. "I'm just saying. That's something I need to know about. That affects me."

Mr. White seemed to consider how to respond for a small beat of silence. "I am…awake." He finally admitted.

"What?"

"Buy the RV." He abandoned the conversations, pointing a solitary finger at Jesse before circling the car and approaching his own vehicle parked beside the Monte Carlo. "We start tomorrow."

Both vehicles started at the same time, and a zoned-out Charlie came to her senses when Mr. White started to back out beside them. She quickly stuck her head out the window, hood pulled halfway over her forehead.

"By Mr. White! Have a nice day!" She waved, grinning and trying to seem as amicable as possible. Walter's stare was puzzled and almost harsh for a couple of seconds before he haphazardly waved back and shot out of the parking lot, as if his car was afraid of being in the same parking space as the Monte Carlo. It was clear that Charlie wasn't in the best mental state – hell, she had barely noticed him for the better half of ten minutes and all of a sudden was waving like a maniac - but even Mr. White wasn't blind enough to see that Jesse took care of the girl. They would survive.

|:|

After two days of straight partying with half of Mr. White's cash, a brown RV was purchased from Combo.

|:|

"Baby you know the drill; I won't be home for awhile, yeah?"

A still half-asleep Charlie nodded, yawning and leaning on window of their car. This was how his cooks usually went; he would drive her to work in the morning and she would bus back home when her shift ended, usually depending on what hours had been texted to her from her boss, Gustavo Fring. He was a pointed, pleasant man that had sympathized with her financial situation during her job interview and offered her a job on the spot.

"You got the keys?" Her boyfriend checked off all the essentials as they neared the restaurant where her shift would be starting in seven minutes.

"Yup."

"Phone?"

"Yup."

"Cash?"

"Yup."

"Food?"

Charlie heaved a sigh. "Yup."

Jesse nodded once and pulled into the Los Pollos parking lot, music blaring. Charlie hopped out of the car, skipping over to the driver's side to give Jesse one last kiss for good luck before he drove off into the distance, bass still booming. She felt a strange sense of pride swell inside of her chest at the fact that the man in that car was hers; they belonged to each other and came as a packaged pair. She was proud of the fact that he could provide for her and could satisfy every corner of the lifestyle she wanted – proud that she had found 'the one' while she was still young.

|:|

Jesse came home late, and only left a small note with a heart on it, explaining that he had business today as well. Charlie merely shrugged and climbed into bed alone, although even her beloved teddy bear Po and a cigarette couldn't quell the amount of nerves in her stomach. Her stomach always bothered her when Jesse was gone for more than a day.

|:|

There was the sound of keys in the lock, and Charlie looked up from the kitchen island where she had been cleaning off her share of Kush. Jesse couldn't have been happier to see the love of his life sitting Indian-style ripping bong hits in that very instant, and he was fairly certain that after two days of minimal contact she was extremely happy to see him as well.

"Oh! Oh my god! Your face!" Her face dropped in alarm, and she carefully set aside the bong to hop off the island. She clutched at him desperately, and he reveled in her tiny gasps, leaning on the island as she dashed around the kitchen trying to find the first aid kit.

"Are we in danger?" Charlie began to question, finding the bright yellow box and fetching a bag of peas for his swollen eye. Although his injuries were bothering him and he wanted nothing more than to take a long hot shower at that very moment, Jesse couldn't stop smiling. Again, he was reminded of Fabienne from Pulp Fiction. Just like Fabienne, Charlie was ready to go; ready to follow Jesse to the ends of the world and listen to him and love him because he cared.

"I don't think so," He grinned like a maniac, pulling her close as she tried to disinfect his cuts. "But we do have a bit of a situation in the RV."