'Crazy Handful of Nothin'
Charlie was rudely awakened by the sound of clinking glass in the garage, and her still sluggish mind couldn't put two and two together to realize that perhaps those voices were Jesse and Walter instead of two nutbags going through her boyfriend's glassware. Unfortunately, her influenced mind was too doped up to even begin to climb off the couch, so instead she slumped off of it, falling to the floor with a harsh thud and crying out in pain. She slowly wrapped the blankets around her frame again and positioned herself underneath the coffee table, curling up and hoping that the two intruders wouldn't catch her while they were stealing all of Jesse's things. Soon she heard the rushing of feet - most likely responding to her fall - and began to break out in nervous sweat as the footsteps came closer and closer until she shut her eyes as tight as they would go, fearing the worst.
"Charlie!" A muffled voice was shaking her back to reality, and both men pulled out the girl from underneath the coffee table. Jesse kneeled down to the girl's height and grabbed her cheeks, trying to control the lolling of her head. "Can you hear me? Are you okay? What did you hit?"
"The f-floor." She slurred, words not able to connect themselves properly as she scratched at her skin.
"Jesus – heroin?" Mr. White took a step away from the scene, dually noting the needle that lay on the coffee table. "Do we need to call an ambulance?"
"No," Jesse grunted, pushing the table back into its proper place. Charlie began to shiver uncontrollably, something that came along with mixing drugs with an empty stomach. Walter looked on, unhelpful, as his former student took his other former student into his arms and placed her on the couch, wrapping her in more blankets and collecting her hair into a ponytail. He placed a pillow at the base of her spine to prevent her from rolling on her back and grabbing a bucket from behind the curtain.
"Why is she shivering?" Mr. White looked towards the younger boy in question.
"Cotton fever," Jesse explained, surveying the situation to double check that there was no risk. Charlie was still shivering, but had lapsed back into a drowsy state. "You see that cotton ball?"
Mr. White regarded the tiny drenched ball sitting inside the spoon wearily. "Yes?"
"You use that to filter the shit you put in the needle. That's reacting in her bloodstream – it's normal but it lasts for about half an hour. We just have to wait it out."
Walter regarded the small girl carefully, knowing that his family was waiting back at home for him but uneasy about leaving Charlie alone. He couldn't deny the fact that Jesse took care of her, but seeing a child in danger always struck him first as a parent, second as a human being. "Will she be alright?"
"She's fine, Mr. White," Jesse didn't take his eyes off her trembling form, understanding that he would sit all night if that was what it took to ensure her safety.
Walter sat for another hour with the two, making sure that Jesse knew exactly what he was doing before they parted ways and agreed to meet the day after tomorrow. There was a fair amount of debate about whether or not to bring Charlie – seeing as the activities she considered appropriate to do alone were particularly self destructive – but Jesse refused to allow her to come near any danger. Mr. White found himself scoffing whilst reminiscing on the drive home, wanting to turn around and berate Jesse for being so hypocritical. How was it that he could not see the danger Charlie was putting herself in every day? How was it that he was more concerned about her hanging around a meth lab for a day instead of shooting up at home alone?
"She doesn't always do it," Jesse had explained while they watched her twitching form. "I was gone for two days tryin' to cook your stuff with Badger…an' she gets nervous."
Although both students were cluster fucks and a half to manage, Walter found a soft spot inside him when he saw the tenderness that Jesse applied to situations with Charlie in them. Whether it was the panic attacks, bad trips or plain old crying sessions, the old man remembered Pinkman to be very caring of Charlie. In turn, he also had multiple memories of Charlie being capable of handling her boyfriend's fits of rage in the classroom. One particular incident flashed back to him: it was a Friday morning second period Chemistry class, and both Macey and Pinkman were present. Mr. White had begun to hand out the test marks, and although both teens flunked badly, Jesse reacted in a different way than what was to be expected. Storming out of the room, he had flung the door open on the way out and was heard rumbling through the hallways, punching lockers left and right. Charlie got up moments later, excusing herself and rushing out the doorway after him. Mr. White simply watched the ordeal with tired eyes, snapping for his students to sit back down in their seats and to let the emotional teens in the hallway figure it out amongst themselves. He remembered hearing yelling for several minutes – Charlie's tone reaching a level he had never heard before – and finally, the banging stopped. There was no more rattling of metal or angry shouts, and the two stepped back into the classroom within five minutes. The only telltale sign of their activities was the dark red lipstick smeared over Jesse's mouth, the identical shade to the one that Charlie was reapplying.
Back then, Walter would have sighed and chastised the two for wasting class time. Now he didn't know what he would have said. It was remarkable how two completely out of control people could control each other so easily. They held each other together like planks on a bridge; every piece was essential or the whole thing could come crashing down.
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There was nowhere else that Jesse would have rather been in that very moment than spooning Charlie on their mattress, happily dozing off on one of their free days. It was rare; Mr. White had work so Jesse didn't need to cook, Charlie hadn't been called in for any shifts, and no one had been knocking at their front door asking about their religious beliefs. It was absolute bliss to be able to lie in bed and not have any responsibilities for a day. Charlie was still fast asleep – she had gotten fairly good at dozing the days away when it was possible and Jesse was happy to see her so peaceful. Following her lead, he tightened his hold on her and promptly dozed off again.
|:|
The shrill wail of a cell phone alarm pierced the air, and Charlie groaned unhappily. Los Pollos needed her for the full day today, so she needed to be up and at 'em as soon as possible. Jesse was leaving around ten o'clock with Mr. White, but had agreed to drop her off before meeting up with their old professor. Charlie dressed quickly and they made it out of the driveway in record time.
"I'm coming with you tonight," Charlie retied her converse against the dashboard of the Monte Carlo once they pulled into the restaurant chain, and Jesse shot her an uncertain look until she clarified. "When you go slinging."
"Baby," Jesse started, shaking his head in protest.
"Come on! We just spend the entire day in bed, and I haven't had any glass in awhile." She whined, knowing fully well that 'awhile' in their standards meant merely a week.
Jesse sighed, drooping his head slightly. He still felt very uneasy about involving her in business, but it wasn't unusual for more than two people to show up at a deal. Several times an entourage was a good idea to bring along, whether it was for protection or to ward off suspicion. Nevertheless Charlie was a 100-pound female with very little going for her besides the fact that she could out smoke anybody any day.
"You know it could be dangerous," Jesse repeated what he said to her every time she hinted at coming with him on these round trips. She had gone several times before, and enjoyed seeing all the different satisfied customers who would sometimes hand out freebies to their friendly neighbourhood dealers. After a day in bed she was more than happy to join her boyfriend on his night out, hoping to catch some free hits along the way.
"I know," She replied, kissing him goodbye and bouncing into the restaurant. Jesse watched her go with a faraway smile, eventually pulling the car out of the parking lot and roaring back home to meet Mr. White.
The day passed by quickly, and soon Charlie found herself on the 88 Bus headed back to the house at around five fifteen PM, yawning all the way. It had been a very uneventful and boring day at Pollos. Although customers were ever so plentiful, Charlie felt like she was looking at the same people every day; the same mother with two, three, four kids all whining at the same times and asking for refills of their cokes, the overweight truckers stopping in for takeout, the young teenagers coming in for fizzy drinks. Everything was the same.
She found Jesse waiting for her at the house when she got back, fully stashed and ready to go. Charlie changed into her most trusty jeans, deciding to keep her converse and exchanging her oversized sweater for several jumpers and a leather jacket. Protesting the temperature of her hands, Jesse shoved her paws into a pair of fingerless gloves and they were out the door. The first stop was the Crystal Palace, where frequent residents of the crosstown motel were more than happy to see Jesse. The jittery customers paid little attention to the ever-so-tiny Charlie, tucked into Jesse's side and staring up at them with wide, curious eyes. This pattern repeated when Jesse met up with several more customers in a house downtown, except this time they offered both partners hits off of the pipe. Charlie gladly accepted, keeping up with her boyfriend beside her. The two parted ways with the crowd minutes later after selling several more grams. Garcia's café was next, where Jesse's friend Mateo showed off his new grills and the four Latino males took a liking to their dealer's small tag-along.
"Shit son," Sebastian – one of Jesse's other customers present at the scene – smiled down at Charlie. "Where'd you find her?"
"High school," Jesse answered truthfully, earning a chorus of laughs. The boys changed the subject quickly, exchanging not only crystal but the word on the street.
"There's a new guy in town," Mateo grimaced. "Tuco Salamanca. Movin' product fast."
"Oh yeah?" Jesse frowned at the new information, unsure of what to think. A new distributor meant new business, and although it was good to have someone back in charge again this also meant that he and Mr. White needed to be careful.
"Yeah," One of the bigger boys leaning on the hood next to Sebastian pulled out a cigarette, motioning to Charlie for a lighter. "Grade A badass, from what we hear."
"Great," Jesse sighed, picturing a large intimidating tattooed man. The two left the gang of boys minutes later with even more dirty cash and the valuable information they had gathered. At the 'Dog House', the exchange was quick and involved only one quiet man in a suit. Their last deal was at the Laundromat with a small woman dumping her dirty clothes into one of the machines. Charlie waited out by the car, nervous about security cameras and craving a cigarette. Overall the evening had gone well; the total cash amounted to twenty-six hundred and Charlie had made some new friends.
The next day, however, would be terrible.
Jesse was out cooking with Mr. White again – who was still angry about the fact that money wasn't coming in as fast as he had expected and that Jesse didn't have an 'in' with the new distributor. No matter which way Jesse tried to explain it, Mr. white didn't seem to understand that he couldn't just walk up to an original, old-school gangster and start negotiating deals. It didn't work that way – he needed someone who had a personal connection or a link up to Tuco. He risked the chance of getting seriously harmed or having his street cred ruined if he got off on the wrong foot with this guy. The day hadn't been much better for Charlie, who was dealing with several families that required multiple servings of fries and someone who had vomited in the women's bathroom. Granted, her problems were nowhere near the gravity that Jesse was dealing with, but when they both met back at home that day each partner was sick and tired of their 'work life'.
"Mr. White has cancer," Jesse sighed that night as they enjoyed their final cigarettes of the day. "He's stage 3A."
Charlie tilted her head up to look at him, worry spreading over her features. "Is that why he's cooking?"
Jesse nodded, obviously disturbed and trying to alleviate past memories of his poor aunt, who had disappeared down the same medical path. Sensing this, his girlfriend dropped a kiss on his chest and began to trace his tattoo with soothing fingers. He spoke again in between drags of his cigarette.
"I'm goin' to see someone dangerous tomorrow," He began, explaining how Skinny Pete had responded to his phone calls and assured him that he had personal connections with Tuco. "To see if I can work out a deal or somethin'."
Charlie was quiet for a bit, squinting up at the ceiling and already feeling her stomach tying itself in knots for him. "Just be careful."
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Locker number 14 was vibrating. Unbeknownst to Charlie or any of the other employees that day, something terrible was awaiting on the other end of the line. She had been waiting tables when one of her coworkers, Susan, had let her know that something was up.
"Your phone is goin' crazy back there," She tapped the small girl on the shoulder to let her know.
Charlie frowned, excusing herself to use the washroom and making sure that her friend held her tables. Yanking her locker open, she dug through the baggy contents before reaching the still vibrating cellular device. Susan had been right – there were numerous missed messages and calls, all from Jesse's phone. She dialed him, starting to grow anxious.
"Charlie!" Skinny Pete's raspy tone greeted her, and she immediately bombarded him with questions. "Calm down, doll – we've got a problem here."
"What happened?" Charlie was already pulling herself out of the Los Pollos sweater. She had dealt with one of their 'problems' before; a rival dealer had organized for his thugs to jump Jesse, resulting in him being beaten to a pulp and left to bleed out on the streets. Skinny Pete had found him and thankfully dragged him off to a hospital, but it had been a traumatic experience for everyone involved.
"Negotiations went bad," Pete explained, hearing distant scuffling on the other end of the line. "We're at UNM."
"Okay – oh my god," Charlie's breathing picked up as she grabbed the rest of her belongings and knocked a frantic hand on Mr. Fring's office door. He opened it immediately, alarmed at her ragged appearance. "Mr. Fring, I need to leave! I've got an emergency – my boyfriend's in the hospital, a-and -"
Gus nodded towards the frantic woman, offering to drive her to the hospital where her partner resided. She accepted, still on the phone with her counterpart. Gus cast her several sideways glances while driving, taking in her track marks and tattoos. As far as he was concerned, whatever she did in her personal life didn't affect her job performance – she was off the hook for that – but he knew from his person experiences with drugs to never trust a junkie. Upon pulling up to the University of New Mexico Hospital emergency wing, Charlie hopped out of the car and thanked him profusely, still on the phone with Pete who had given her the room number and condition of her boyfriend. Mr. Fring nodded at the grateful girl, watching her disappear into the large building. It was clear that both she and her boyfriend were dealing with concerning issues.
"Pinkman." Gus remarked as he sped out of the hospital parking lot.
Elsewhere, Charlie was racing through the lobby of the hospital, still on the phone and struggling to focus on Pete trying to calm her down and give her directions at the same time. She managed to make it to a help desk, where they directed her towards the urgent care ward and she rushed into the correct room, finding Jesse asleep in a neck brace and Skinny sitting by the bed.
"Jesus Christ," She breathed, ignoring Pete and going to lean over her bloodied-up boyfriend. "What happened?"
"Tuco beat him bad," Pete muttered, clearly "I didn't want nothin' like this to happen – I swear! I thought he was a cool guy!"
"It's not your fault," Charlie murmured, looking towards her boyfriend's vital signs and noting that his blood pressure was low. "Old schoolers are nuts."
"Yeah."
The two slept in the hospital room that night, managing to convince the nurses that they were family and holding up the story that he had 'falling down a flight of stairs'. Nobody was buying it, but they sure as hell weren't going to question the ragtag bunch of kids in the back room who were paying their bills up front in cash. Perhaps the staff acknowledged that they had enough problems as it was. In fact, their stay proved to yield even more questionable visitors when Jesse's cell phone went off the next morning.
"Yeah man," Skinny Pete answered the call, watching as Charlie rose from her spot on the floor to check Jesse again. "What up?"
"Who is this?" Charlie recognized Walter's tone from the other end of the line. "I was dialing Jesse Pinkman."
"Hey man," Pete tried to explain, frowning as Charlie's breathing picked up and she plopped herself down in the corner. "Jesse's out."
There was a beat of silence on the other end of the phone. "Where is he, then?"
Pete sighed before giving Walter the bad news, as well as the room number in the hospital they were staying at. As he hung up the phone, he locked eyes with a panicked Charlie still sitting in the corner. She had wrapped herself further in Jesse's sweater, now rocking back and forth as if it would sooth her. She made no changes to her movements, even when Mr. White stepped into the room.
"You the guy?" Pete looked up at him.
"I'm the guy," The chemistry teacher confirmed, looking between the three rejects of society. His gaze briefly rested on Charlie, obviously refusing to connect to reality, and then continued on to Jesse. "How is he?"
"Got some busted ribs'n like that," Again, Pete's face was the epitome of guilt. "Got messed up pretty good…I was all like: 'Damn, Tuco – chill ese!' I don't know what got into him, seriously."
Walter leaned over to inspect his former student more closely. He couldn't stop the feeling of guilt either, knowing that it had been his fault for pushing the kid into selling to a hardcore thug and basically walking into a million dollar operation without any backup. No wonder Salamanca had felt threatened; their meth was the current purest on the market.
"He's out, man." Pete shook his head towards his unconscious friend. "They got him doped up big time."
There was a pregnant pause as Walter glanced behind him, observing Charlie's shaking mass after what her friend had said. He leaned against the vent in the room, taking in the current situation and trying not to fall over in stress. It was enough keeping the secret of cooking methamphetamine from his family, but to have his partner cooped up in the hospital with questions pouring in from all sides was another load on his back.
"So you're the cook, huh?" The thin man continued, respect shining in his eyes. "Yo – I didn't catch your name."
"Tell me about this Tuco," Mr. White ignored Skinny's question and sat in a dazed state. "Tell me everything about him."