Haircut
AU: Jesse decides since Walt is going to die, the least he could do is make sure he looks nice before he goes.
"It's time."
Jesse swallows softly, fighting back the tears that are threatening to spill. Walt lies back in his hospital bed, coughing and clutching his chest. The IV stuck in his arm, his hair in noticeable clumps that fall into the covers, his body reminiscent of a skeleton, it's clear he doesn't have much time left. Walt's family had finally gave their goodbyes and left, friends and old relatives of his seemed to forget he's still breathing. They all seemed to fade like white noise into the background, with only Jesse remaining.
Jesse, his ex-high school student that flunked his class, is the only one who sticks around. He's the only one that consistently visits, bringing flowers, food, and talking non-stop about his life while Walt listens. There would even be mornings where Walt would wake to a sleeping Jesse sitting on the chairs in his room, as if guarding him. Walt could never pinpoint why Jesse has devoted such attention to him; they never ended on the best of terms.
"Are you sure?" It's not even a question.
"Yes."
"Okay." Jesse walks to Walt, eyes unreadable as he grabs Walt's body and sits him upright. Walt takes a deepest breath he can muster, angry at his weakened lungs and overworked heart. He looks at Jesse, trying to tell him it's going to be alright. He'll be okay, this he knows. He'd been an honest man down to his dying day.
Jesse digs through his bag and pulls out a bowl, a Kabuki brush, a barber's razor, a water bottle, and some shaving cream. He pours the water in the bowl, sprays a heaping amount of foam and whisks it away with the Kabuki brush. Taking a shuddering breath, Jesse slathers the foam at the base of Walt's skull. He works the foam around his head counter-clockwise and goes over it again for good measure. When his head is fully lathered, Jesse holds the razor in his hand and steadies his grip.
"Tell me when."
"Now."
Jesse starts shaving at the nape of his neck, working his way up. His gentle strokes make sure there's no nicks or gashes. He wants this to be perfect, like his art. He looks at Walt for any discomfort. Seeing he's doing fine, he continues his work.
Walt enjoys the service, the tingly shaving cream having a somewhat soothing effect on his scalp. It's been so long since he had someone give him a haircut; Skyler's hands have gotten too shaky to hold the razor nowadays.
"Are you okay, Mr. White?" Jesse asks after a moment of silence. Walt hums in response.
"If I had known you had cancer earlier I would've came sooner. You have the same cancer my aunt had," he begins, swallowing thickly.
"I remember on her last day, she didn't want to look so terrible so she asked me to..."
It's clear Jesse's struggling to keep calm. Walt is ready to stop him until he finally says, "Give her a haircut. She wanted me to shave the rest of her hair off so she could wear her favorite hat at her funeral." Blue eyes met green, looking for any signs of stopping. He continues.
"The least I can do is make you look badass before you check out. I did it for my aunt so I'm doing it for you." Jesse stops to wipe the tears away from his face. He doesn't want to look at Walt's skeletal frame. He doesn't want to hear his ragged breaths or smell the death on him. He doesn't want Aunt Jenny's ghost to come back, making him relive watching her die and he can't do anything about it.
He just wants to forget.
"Tell me more about your Aunt Jenny." Walt says.
Within minutes Jesse's mouth never stops moving. Walt gets lost in the misadventures Jesse had with his aunt, the happiness and love evident in Jesse. He smiles at the jokes, hears the woman's voice, sees everything in vivid oranges and yellows of summer. In turn Walt tells him stories of his youth, reminding his high school drop-out that he was once young and foolish. They laugh, they curse, but most of all their sadness is gone.
"All done. Tell me what you think." Jesse hands him the mirror. He looks at himself and he can't believe what he's seeing. He's so bald a part of him expects to reflect light off the back of his head.
"I look like a total egghead." He says, touching his shaved head. He then laughs. He laughs so hard he brings himself into a coughing fit. Worried, Jesse pats his back and calls the nurse. The nurse lies him back down, cursing Jesse out in Spanish for being so careless. He exits the room, and it's Jesse and Walt again.
The tension resurfaces, and both are unsure how to address it.
"My time is up, Jesse." He looks to his ex student. He won't even look at Walt; he's fiddling with the strings on his jacket, blinking away the tears that are coming.
"For my funeral, I want you to get that black bowler hat I wore one day to class." He smiles at the memory. It was Jesse's Sophomore Year Chemistry class, and Walt walked in in a mobster costume to use it as symbolism for the carbon molecules that make sugar. Or something like that, too many years had passed since he did something cool like that. He remembers Jesse, for once in his class, smile and say, "That hat looks really bitching on you, Mr. White."
That was his moment of cool.
"I want to wear it in my casket. I want to look bitching when I go."
He laughs, tears streaming down his face. For the next half hour, the two men cry. Jesse cries over cancer claiming another victim, while Walt cries over the acceptance of us fate, the thought of never seeing Holly grow up and be a magnificent young woman and Walt Jr. a magnificent grown man. He cries over saying goodbye.
He's ready to go now.
Walter White dies three days later. The funeral came shortly, covered by the Schwartz. Jesse sits front row with the family, mourning.
In his casket, Walt lies in a simple suit, with his lucky bowler hat.
And a smile on his face.
Fin