Cancer Man
There were little nerves in the Pinkman household the next morning, as both Charlie and Jesse were comforted by the fact that Walter had finally come to his senses and strangled Krazy 8 to death before dumping his body in a bin of hydrofluoric acid and flushing him down the toilet. Charlie sincerely hoped that the piping wouldn't take any serious damage; they had enough to worry about already with the giant hole for a bathtub. Although it didn't really make a difference in their lives – they had a shower in the main floor bathroom and rarely had guests over – it was still disturbing to have a gigantic, blood covered hole in their ceiling. Speaking of guests, the hole would prove to be a distraction when Skinny Pete and Combo came over later in the afternoon, wanting to hear more about the 'wicked batch' that Jesse had recently cooked up. On his way back from the bathroom, Combo questioned his friend about the bloody mess.
"Nah man," Charlie heard her boyfriend explain nervously. "I think the house is just settling. Y'know, it's been cavin' in left and right. Hit me in the eye; it's bananas."
"Yo – my pops could fix you up," Skinny Pete's voice traveled to Charlie's ears from the living room where he lay. "He's like a contractor or somethin'."
Charlie was very comfortable with Jesse's friends – she had known them since they had started dating back in high school and was familiar with their personalities. They were all unique in their own way; Skinny Pete had more of a relaxed, strung back attitude about him, while Badger was the nervous type and Combo just went along with anything and everything that was tossed his way. They all enjoyed Charlie's company, more than happy to try out her recipes and taking care of her if Jesse needed help.
"Guys," She called out from the kitchen, expecting at least one reply and instead getting three 'yeah's?' in return. "If I made nachos and chocolate strawberries would you eat 'em?"
There were choruses of 'hell yeah's' and 'bring it on's', and so Charlie grinned and began to whip up the dish, ignoring the rest of the conversation. It wasn't until she retrieved the nachos from the microwave and coated the already chocolate covered strawberries with white chocolate that she emerged from the kitchen and tuned in on the conversation, which had faded slightly due to the meth pipe being passed around. Pete eyed her bare legs and held the nachos for her as she cleared some space on the table, setting the food down and accepting the pipe from Combo who delved straight into the strawberries.
"Doll," Pete nudged her after she had exhaled the smoke into three large rings. "You gonna eat any of your own food?"
Charlie shook her head blatantly, earning a noise of disapproval from Jesse. "Come on, baby," He argued, pulling her into his lap and grabbing a strawberry. "You made it – try at least one."
The girl sighed, regarding Combo wolf down her snacks wearily. Grabbing the strawberry between her fingers she plopped it in her mouth and chewed unhappily, earning applause from Pete. To prevent a binge and to get the taste out of her mouth, she loaded more crystal into the pipe and stole another hit. Whatever Jesse and Mr. White had done – they had done it right; this meth was extremely pure and extremely potent. The rush was euphoric and instant. Charlie felt like she could conquer the world on this stuff. She never actually amounted to anything remotely drastic, but once Combo and Skinny Pete had left their house she ended up pushing Jesse up the stairs and practically ripping her clothing off, desperate to take control in a situation where she hardly ever had any.
He grinned at her newfound vigor, gladly assisting her into the appropriate position and weaving his fingers into her hair when she went down on him. The delicious mixture of lips and tongue had him reeling in the pit of pleasure for several minutes until she pulled away, deciding that somehow he would be able to control himself while she lowered herself on top of him. Letting out several profanities, he gripped her hips tightly as she began to move up and down, running a hand through her hair and closing her dilated eyes. Although the drug provided boosts of stamina, Charlie found herself tired out within what seemed like moments later. Jesse quickly took control of the situation, wrapping a hand around her waist and bringing the other one around to her neck to bring her lips down to his. As he began to drive his hips harder and faster into her, her vocal chords erupted in choruses of erotic moans and curses, a wonderful mix of sin and filth to the highest of capacities. It nearly drove Jesse mad the way that she behaved in bed; the reward for pushing her closer and closer to the edge was addictive every time.
"Charlie - fuck," He leant back against the mattress and watched her bounce up and down again, rubbing her own clit and grasping at her breast. "Jesus Christ."
He couldn't resist; he flipped her over onto her hands and knees and gripped her by the back of her neck. It was a position that they used often; one that he knew Charlie got the most pleasure out of. Soon she was mewling like a kitten and begging for him to finish her off, grasping behind her for his hand and leading it straight to her core where he circled her clit once again.
"Yes!" She shouted, stretching forwards like a cat and gasping wantonly. "Jesse – OH!"
Her last gasp came as a warning before her muscles clenched down on him, rippling and milking him for every last drop he could offer. Spilling his load into the condom that they had somehow remembered to slide on, he slid his hands up and down Charlie's back before flopping off to the side and disposing of the used rubber. He found that sleep came over him fairly quickly, but noted that Charlie's eyes were still bugged and wide-awake. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was the familiar sound of her lighting a cigarette.
|:|
It was nine in the morning, and Jesse had picked up the pipe again. This time, thanks to the larger dosage of narcotics, he sensed a different sort of high coming on. There was the sound of a helicopter in the distance, and soon enough he heard the rumbling sound of motorcycle engines roaring down the street. Beginning to panic as the two giant bikers stopped in front of his house, he watched with wide eyes as the two dismounted and headed towards his front door. One of them unsheathed a sword, while the other played with a grenade in his right hand. Jesse stumbled away from the window, fully intent on making a mad dash from the house with Charlie in tow. He crawled towards the stereo and grabbed the stashed meth, clambering up the stairs and shaking a groggy Charlie awake. The poor thing hadn't slept all night as a result of the drug use, and she was now functioning on an empty stomach, tired brain and little sleep. Needless to say she was very confused when Jesse flicked her ear to get her attention. He felt horrible about waking her up while she was recovering, but this was an emergency.
"Mm?" She half opened her eyes and was greeted with the sight of a very panicked Jesse, who pulled her out of bed and dressed her in one of his oversized sweaters and forgetting pants altogether. She nearly fell over slipping on her converse, but Jesse managed to put them on for her while she practically dozed off on his shoulder. He didn't know how much time had passed since those two big guys had parked in front of his house, but he figured he still had some time left before they busted in his door.
"Let's go," Jesse grabbed her hand and pulled her down the stairs, leading her out the closest first story window. She stumbled after him, still half asleep and gripping his hand for all that it was worth. They nervously stumbled onto a bus going downtown, only stopping to buy a pack of cigarettes and some water. As their highs wore off, he deducted that the bikers had most likely been hallucinations; all part of a bad trip for which he had placed Charlie in unnecessary emergency-mode for. She was still trembling when they decided that their best bet was to spend a couple nights at his parent's home. Charlie had visited his family before, but to no avail. At first they weren't sure how to approach the obviously underweight, addicted teen that their eldest son had invited over for dinner. By this time they had been dating for over three years, and Jesse figured his parent's must have come to their senses about him having a girlfriend. Apparently not; she was lectured by his mother about her eating habits and questioned by his father about her track marks, scars and bruises. Jesse had to coax her through three panic attacks that night and beg her to stay in his room, fearing to let her go home alone in her current mind state. There were several reasons why the current day Jesse Pinkman didn't want to bring Charlie back into his household while his family was there (she otherwise enjoyed it when they weren't – in fact the adored their quaint little house) it was a last resort; there was no way they were going back to his house when those bikers were still hanging out here. Even if it was just a hallucination, he wasn't taking any chances.
He boosted Charlie over the fence, who let out a rather large yelp and landed hard on the other side. Apologizing profusely, Jesse vaulted over himself and went to tend to the girl. She waved him off and muttered angrily in denial, and the two began to walk towards the house. Unfortunately that progress was halted when the darkness assisted Jesse in tripping over lawn furniture and ensnaring him in a cheap plastic lawn chair.
"Who's there?" Mr. Pinkman's familiar voice rang out in the large yard as Jesse continued to try and get his leg out of the chair. It took him a couple seconds to recognize the pair, and he spread his arms in confusion.
"What the hell are you doing out here?"
"Hey dad," Jesse waved; disregarding the question completely and looking onwards as his family came outside to see what the ruckus was. "Hey mom! Jake! You guys got new patio furniture – right on…" He continued to try and tug his leg out to no avail, so an ever-so-silent Charlie grabbed the chair and shoved him out of it eventually. The two were granted access to the house after an awkward moment, and told that tomorrow details would be ironed out. Jesse's family didn't even acknowledge Charlie's presence; only pausing to shake their heads as the two extremely worn out youths stumbled their way into Jesse's old room. Charlie basically face-planted onto the mattress, familiar with the surroundings of concerning drawings and old photos of Jesse in elementary school. Like usual, the room looked as if someone had paused his age at 10 – still a fairly innocent kid with the same potential as anyone else. Charlie knew it pained Jesse to see Jake – he was the Pinkmans' most preferred son and they loved to shove him in everybody's faces as the billboard for their family. Jesse was pushed out of the picture; forgotten and 'lost'. They wanted even less to do with the 'degenerate filth' that he hung out with, which meant Charlie was nothing more than a speck of dirt to them.
Jesse climbing into bed after examining the state of his old room, he wrapped a hand around his already sleeping girlfriend and allowed himself to fall asleep. The pair slept there, spooning throughout the whole night and the entire next day. This was usual if Charlie didn't have to go to work and Jesse wasn't cooking, or in rare cases like these when the mattress was almost addictive. When the two woke the next evening, they paid no attention to the fact that each had basically missed a day in their lives.
"Mornin'." She heard Jesse jokingly mutter from the crook of her neck. The rush of air made her shudder, laughter bubbled up her throat. It was quickly quieted when she heard the sounds of movement downstairs; presumably the Pinkmans getting ready for dinner. Jesse managed to convince Charlie to come down the stairs, grasping her hand for comfort and weaving his fingers through hers. They shared a reinforcing kiss on the stairs, silently urging each other to stay strong through the painful memories for the time being.
"Hey," Jesse leaned in the doorway once he had led Charlie to the kitchen.
"Hey," Mr. Pinkman responded, both adults turning to face the doorway now. "Good evening."
"Sleep well?" Mrs. Pinkman raised her eyebrows at the two, and Charlie found herself shocked that she was even acknowledging her existence, let alone asking her a fully respectful question. So she bit her lip and nodded, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and playing with the string on Jesse's sweater.
Jesse ignored the question, instead asking about the condition of mealtime. "What time's dinner?"
"In about an hour," Mrs. Pinkman responded, acknowledging at the food that she had been preparing. "You know I could wash those clothes if you'd like; they look a little lived in."
She eyed Jesse's clothing wearily and nodded towards Charlie, who was now barefoot on the rich wooden floor. Her son had clearly attached himself to this girl who - based on the way she was leaning into him like he was the only safety in the room - had placed the same trust in him. The Pinkman's had always remembered Charlie after every negative thing in her life; her self destructive streaks and her abusive family, her terrible grades and illicit activities. Their crude sense of judgment degraded Charlie and reminded her of the endless amount of failures she had amounted to in her lifetime. Despite the rudeness she encountered in the Pinkman household, she found herself quietly abiding to its rules each and every time she stepped inside.
"Nah, that's cool," Jesse gave a half smile and Charlie followed his lead. "Maybe later."
He led her towards the dining area, where she began to hand him the cutlery while he placed it on the organized settings. They performed the task sullenly, both aware of Jesse's parents regarding them in the doorway quietly. Neither of the two turned to face the married couple. Instead, Charlie dropped her head onto her boyfriend's shoulder, prompting a soft kiss on the forehead. After his parents had cleared the room and the two had finished setting the table, Charlie let out another large yawn. Jesse led her back to his bed, where she promptly fell asleep again. He ventured off to Jacob's room, finding the kid seated in his room and typing away on his Mac.
"Hey buddy," Jesse nodded towards his younger brother, disregarding the long essay on the screen and strutting over to the trophies lined on the wall. "When did you get these?"
"Last May at the year-end assembly," Jacob responded, turning to face the twenty year old who clearly hadn't been home for a long time. "They gave me that one too – the one on the end."
"Environmental consciousness award," Jesse quoted, picking up the engraved glass square with his brother's name carved into it. "What's that mean? You, like, recycle cans an' shit?"
"I contacted the Albuquerque Journal and asked what chemicals they use to bleach their paper." Jacob promptly ignored Jesse's foul language. "They wound up writing an article about it."
"Right on, little bro!" Jesse grinned. "Makin' mad in-roads with the business community. All right! Now, hey, remember: not all learning comes out of books."
Jesse leaned his lanky frame on the trophy case, a strange mixture of both pride and anger filling his chest. He was conflicted; while he accepted the fact that he fucked up consistently and was a failure to his parents, he was proud of his little brother for becoming more successful in a shorter timespan at a younger age. The pressure had been taken off his shoulders once it was clear that Jacob would be the one to make their parents proud, but it still caused jealousy in the pit of Jesse's stomach when he saw the endless awards and the amount of praise that followed Jacob wherever he walked.
"Look at you," He continued, wallowing in his frustration. "We should hang out more often – y'know? Hang out and chill? I mean, if you ever like, I dunno – need advice…" He trailed off, unsure of where his sentence had been going. The only thing that he could really help his brother out with was to warn him about the amount of danger that awaited in the real world.
"Because, yo – I mean, I've been through it all. For real -" Jesse interrupted his speech once he caught sight of the black box on the bed that he had situated himself upon. "Hey man – you play the flute?"
"It's a piccolo, actually."
"Dude!" Jesse grinned, unsure of whether he was enraged or enthralled by the information that his brother had yet another newfound talent. "Play some Jethro Tull!"
"Hey guys," Mrs. Pinkman smiled in the doorway, obviously concerned at the way Jesse was hanging over his brother. She didn't want any of his reckless ways to be absorbed into her perfect son. "How're we doin' in here?"
"We're good," Jesse responded, miffed that they had even found it necessary to check on him.
"Jake?" She looked to her other son for confirmation, not trusting the word of her eldest.
"Yeah," He confirmed, looking back at her. "We're fine, mum."
"Good!" She backed out of the room and left the door open; something she had learned to do out of experience. Jesse had locked himself in his room one too many times with Charlie when he had been staying at the house, blasting his music so that his parents wouldn't hear the noises of the furniture in his room creaking or the sound of their moans. "That's great!"
"What the hell?" Jesse's tone dropped an octave, his anger igniting once he saw the blatant lack of lenience and privacy in his little brother's life. "You see this? What, am I some criminal or something?"
"Whatever," Jacob shrugged, continuing to type away.
"Whatever?" Jesse made a face, unable to process the fact that the other boy had given in to the control their mother held. "What, you think that's okay? Like, 'Oh, we can't let that scumbag warp the mind of our favorite on."
"I'm the favorite?" The younger boy scoffed, shaking his head. "Yeah, right. You're practically all they ever talk about. You and Charlie."
|:|
Charlie was awoken by the sound of papers ruffling later in the evening. After barely taking a few bites of dinner – this time Mrs. Pinkman hadn't said anything about her eating habits – her and Jesse had smoked a cigarette each and retreated back to bed. The small black haired girl could already sense that this was going to be a restless night for him, but she didn't expect to wake and find him tearing through old memories like they were tissues. Sitting up in the bed, she regarded him quietly while he laughed over several sheets of cartoon paper.
"Oh snap - awesome," She heard him mutter. It seemed as though he was going to retreat back to bed in a good mood, but his laughter was halted when he turned the paper over to reveal what appeared to be a test. Even from her perch on the bed, Charlie could see the giant 'F' scribbled across the top of the page. It was a mark that she was unfortunately extremely familiar with. She watched Jesse dump everything else back in the box before shutting it, and he jumped back in shock when he realized that she had been sitting up, staring at him.
"Did I wake you up?" He climbed back into bed, stroking her hair and pulling her back against his chest as they leaned against the headboard.
"No," She lied, burying her face in his neck and breathing in his scent.
There was a vibration to the couples' left, and two pairs of eyes watched Jesse's cell phone light up. He answered it, chest rumbling as he spoke. Charlie could faintly hear Combo's voice on the other end, questioning her boyfriend about the 'product'. The boys had to be careful on the phone when negotiating deals; you never knew when the NSA could be listening to a call or if the D.E.A had somebody wired.
"Nah man, okay?" Jesse grew angry as he suspected his friend of trying to mooch more crystal. "I'm done givin' out freebies. You want charity – go ask the Salvation Army."
"No," Combo clarified. "No charity – I got this cousin with some rich friends. These dudes are in town and they're lookin' to part-ay. And your stuff is, like, so sweet! So what do you say? You up for making some fat stacks? 'Cause they'll buy everything you got."
|:|
Eight thousand dollars in cash was collected the next morning, half of which was given to one very angry Walter White. Apparently he didn't appreciate Jesse delivering his share of profit – even though the 'ball breaker' of a wife had left for the day.
|:|
"Have you two got anything to say about this?" Mr. and Mrs. Pinkman sat across the table from Charlie and Jesse, eyes just as unfriendly as Charlie had remembered them years ago.
A tiny joint sat in the middle of the table, threatening to break apart the very seams of the Pinkman's 'perfect family' image and only increasing their suspicion that their son was still some deadbeat junkie with an equally addicted, crazy girlfriend. The couple in question looked back from the joint to the two parents, ready to take the blame for anything that was tossed their way. The two had agreed to hide Jacob's paraphernalia in a small plant pot in their room – the boy was too nervous to hide it in his own – but the cleaning lady had foiled their plans.
"What do you know about that?" Jesse's father pointed at the white stick.
"Nothing." Jesse was quick, but his father was quicker.
"Well, that's not gonna fly this time."
His mother took over, tears threatening to spill over in her eyes. "How many chances have we given you? How many times have we sat right here and had the same conversation over and over again where you look us in the eye and you plead ignorance, and you play on our emotions, and you tell us anything you think we want to hear just so we'll give you another chance? And it makes us feel like fools, every time. Enough, Jesse. Enough."
Charlie could see pain reflecting in Jesse's eyes, and she realized the gravity of the situation sitting in front of her. Jesse was taking this guilt trip of a beating – one that he had received many times but was more and more painful each time he received it – for his brother; to make sure that his parents still held the belief and illusion that at least one of their sons was perfect. At least one their sons would finish college and get a degree in something useful and amount to something in the world. He was taking the beating to withhold some sanity in his old home; to keep the peace and sacrifice himself so that his parent's dream wouldn't be ruined. Knowing that he would most likely benefit from her support at this point, she gripped his hand underneath the table. Jesse's jaw clenched and unclenched as he shook his head in fury. She could sense that he was already debating whether or not this had been a good idea. Of course upon finding any drugs in the house the Pinkman's would associate the illegal substances with Jesse and not Jacob – so why not take the fall for his brother?
Because, Jesse found himself thinking. It would be amazing to shatter their divine, ignorant world.
"We are not going to have this in our house," His father continued. "We need you two to leave."
Jesse looked back and forth between his parents again, noting that his mother refused to catch his eye and his father wouldn't budge from his seat. He scoffed, gripping Charlie's hand even tighter as he rose to his feet and grabbed the joint off the table. It was ridiculous, really; parents kicking their helpless son out simply because of a little weed. But as both Charlie and Jesse knew, the Pinkman's rarely accepted even the tiniest signs of misconduct or rebellion. So, the two miscreants got together what little they had the next morning and shuffled out of the house, calling a taxi in the process and not even bothering to say goodbye.
Jesse played with his hat while they waited on the curb as Charlie sat and tied her converse properly, slightly relieved that morning after having found one of her old pairs of jeans in Jesse's drawers. Behind them, the door creaked slightly as Jacob stepped out into the cool October air, making his way to where the two were waiting.
"Thanks for not telling them," He looked first to Jesse, and then to Charlie, who stood and smiled at the boy. "You think I could have it back?"
The yellow taxi pulled up behind the three, prompting Jesse to motion to the driver to wait for a minute. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the tightly wrapped stick, looking as though he was going to hand it back over to its rightful owner but quickly destroying it instead. He dropped the ruined paraphernalia and crushed it again with the foot of his shoe, turning back to the confused younger boy after he had kicked it into the street.
"It's skunk weed, anyway." He grabbed at Charlie's waist and gently nudged her into the car. Charlie smiled at her boyfriend, proud after watching him make the choice to protect his brother from any kind of drug whatsoever. No matter what, she was sure that Jesse didn't want to be the one to help corrupt Jacob. If Jacob wanted to go down that path, he would have to venture it himself. Jesse's hands were dirty enough as it was.