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[Jesse jerks back instinctively when Stan grabs hold of him - but it's just Stan, so he forces himself to relax. And takes a breath.]

No, yeah, I mean - I'm gonna tell her. I just... I'll call her. Soon. I just gotta... I gotta get my head straight. I can't fuck it up. With her.

[The jerking should make him let go an back off, but he's too busy trying to process what Jesse just said. Hasn't the dude already fucked it up with Lisbeth anyway, if they're not together anymore? It's probably not time to point that out, though. Stanley just sighs, and sinks own into a partial crouch again. Either his knees aren't working properly due to being fucking frozen, or his knees aren't working properly for the same reason his stomach is in knots and his hands are still shaking.

He decides it'll look less stupid to just sit own, pries his fingers off of Jesse's shirt and sinks to take a seat on the floor. This time he doesn't look up again. He's mad at Jesse. He's really mad at Jesse. He has to keep thinking about it, because it's tough to feel it right now. Tough to let go and sit own and try to act normal, because none of this is normal. It's a lot to handle. Whatever Jesse might say, he's obviously not alright either. Guys don't flinch away from Stan. He's not stupid. Well... only a little stupid, anyway.]

She was sad. She missed you.

[He watches Stan slowly collapse in on himself, and a moment later, Jesse sinks down to join him. He hugs his knees and stares at the kid for a minute. He's not so sure they're just talking about Lisbeth now, which makes him feel extra sorry. Hell, this whole thing is just one big damn sorry situation. He didn't mean to do this to any of them. He wishes he could at least remember what was going through his head so he could explain it to them, but he's as mystified as the rest of them.

He wavers between letting the silence drag on or breaking it, even though he doesn't have anything to say for himself. A hug might be prudent, but that's less easy now. He can't convince his arms to move.

Finally, he offers weakly:]

It won't happen again, Stan.

[That gets him to look up, with a renewed sense of shock and horror. In spite of all the ugly repetitions in this place, death among them, it hasn't occurred to him that there might be an "again." Not until Jesse says it. It sucks the breath right out of his lungs, a sucker punch with words. If only people could stop blindsiding him with things that should be obvious, maybe he could at least get a guard up once in a while. But he never does. He hisses softly, unable to articulate himself at the moment. Time out.]

Jesus.

[He didn't think the concept could be shocking. He's here, isn't he, and he isn't a ghost (no matter how much he feels like one) so of course it can happen again. Can and won't.

But clearly that was the wrong thing to say, so Jesse gives Stan an apologetic shake of his head.]

I mean I'm never touching dope again. Ever.

[Words are still caught in his throat, and maybe partly because he doesn't know what to say. Instead he finds himself throwing a quick jab at Jesse's shoulder, the sort of response that usually goes along with mild disagreements or unexpected insults. He's not even sure why he just did that until he remembers to remind himself again that he's mad at Jesse.

Oh. Right. Well, it wasn't a very hard punch anyway. He's not the kind of guy that throws his weight into those things, not unless he really means business. Right now all he wants is some kind of reassurance. Which it sort of provides, during that very brief moment where his knuckles connect. Jesse is solid and warm. Alive. There. Probably even real.Stan sighs in relief and drops his face into his knees. He surprises himself again with the next breath.]

Just stop disappearing, okay?

[It's fine. He kind of expected that one, maybe along with some yeah rights and I'll believe it when I see its. That remorseful look doesn't leave his face.]

Okay.

[No matter how frequently people lie to Stan, -Jesse included according to everyone else- he still defaults to trusting people. It takes a lot to shake his faith in someone, so it's easy for him to believe that Jesse really means it this time. Sure, there have been ups and downs...and downs...and downs. But dying, that's got to leave a lasting impression, right? Of course Jesse's going to quit now. He fucking well better.

The easy agreement helps. It's reassuring. Whatever happened last month, right now Jesse wants to live. It's enough to get Stan to peek between his knees at the dude, trying to assess him. He doesn't look great, but when does he ever? E looks good enough, probably. That's fine.]

What do you need?

Edited 2014-01-18 16:19 (UTC)

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