championoftime | (no subject)

(no subject)

[Public | Audio]

[He's trying to be as calm as possible. But what led to what went wrong was needless violence- and again, there's needless violence. The truth is, he doesn't want to admit the dreams came from him because he knows that it will make matters worse. He really wishes that he could write it off as a flood, but it went on entirely too long.] I apologize for the delay in addressing the matter. I was busy dealing with the object [object] responsible for the shared dreams, and then I was needed in the infirmary.

It was an accident, not a calculated strike. It's gone now. You can rest easier.

[He hopes.] That's all the information I'm at liberty to give. Dick passed on the necessary information pertaining to the other events that have transpired.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm still very tired.

[Private to Jesse | Audio]*

We need to have a discussion now that our minds have cleared.

*OOC: Triggers of drug use and sexual assault discussed in thread between Jesse and Doctor.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Richie is a man with many an unsavory quality, but when he imagines something of someone they were usually at least there. Narvin violated your privacy and my ability to properly warden you as he lacked enough respect to come to me.

But you've had far worse people invade your privacy, and for less.

[Jesse assumes he knows what his warden is talking about, and right now, the anger is too much for him to think differently. Yeah, he knows who was violating his privacy -- the other boss, the one with the cameras practically up his ass while he was alive, tracking his every move.]

Who the fuck cares about Fring? We're talking about Richie, that fucking lying piece of shit, who is full of crap because I wasn't there and I can prove it, and--

--Did Claire tell you what he did to her?? What he denied doing? And you want to tell me he's not imagining the entire fucking world, that he acts like he didn't do anything to her? Yo, I don't know who killed him, but whoever it is, they deserve a Goddamn medal for taking his sick rapist ass down, not some interrogation!

[Blurted. Because he does have an idea of what Richie did, but knows he can't get around to explaining how it's wrong for Jesse to have murdered him when Richie did such a horrible thing.] I'm not excusing a thing he did, nor will I excuse what you've done. And I'm not talking about Fring! I'm talking about the man that watched Jane die.

I didn't--[He's already starting to shout over him when the rest of it comes out, like he might just steamroller it over without even listening-- but the second he hears Jane's name, the name that will always catch him up, he stops, and the Doctor's last words echo onto a suddenly silent network.

It takes him a second to speak again, and the anger is gone from his voice. It's hushed now, but also sort of desperate -- like he knows he doesn't want to know whatever the Doctor is about to say.]

What? What are you talking about?

[But he also knows he has to ask.]

[At least that silence makes the Doctor more mellow, because he knows the magnitude of what he's about to say.] Mr. White wanted you back. He wanted you as a part of his unsavoury affairs. So he'd come to see you unannounced.

When Jane was dying, he was there standing over the both of you. He didn't offer any assistance. Didn't roll her over so that she could breathe- it's all she would have required.

What? That's bullshit. [It's immediate, without question. Of course that didn't happen. Why would that have happened? How could it have happened?]

Why would you even say that?

Edited 2012-05-21 06:27 (UTC)

Its in your file, as you having slept through it an especially raucous bender. And the files don't lie. [There's the sound of scruffing his hair.]

Why would I? I have no reason to make something like that up.

I know I slept through it, I remember sleeping through it, I remember waking up-- [His voice is sounding going increasingly strained, almost shaking by the end. No matter what he says to Claire about it, he's never really going to be over that memory, not completely. How do you get over waking up next to the corpse of the woman you love?]

You're lying, you asshole. How the hell should I know why? You hate Mr. White, right? He's an enabler or whatever? John hated him, too! This is just some-- like discrediting bullshit so I'll learn to just say no, right??

Yes, I do very much dislike him. You've probably been able to tell, The awkward silences when you mention him. The unhappy expressions. The fact it was necessary to bite my tongue waiting for him to wake and be given a warden, or while you were grieving for him.

Oh, I had no fondness for Mr. White, but not for being an enabler. For standing there while Death took an innocent woman.

So why now? Why wait till now? Narvin, Mr. White-- [He gets the parallel, and both betrayals--

No, because he can't believe it about Mr. White. The-- betrayal and this thing the Doctor's trying to get him to buy--

But they're both making him feel sick.]

Why wait till now? Why not just tell me? Why not tell me when the guy was still alive, huh? Because he can't defend himself now?

Who would ever want to have to tell someone about how the person they loved was allowed to die by someone else they loved? [He relates to this way too well.] But I realize I have to, or else you're not going to see there are far worse consequences for crimes and conspiracy than me throwing you into Zero to reflect, whether it be someone checking your walls for acid while you're unaware or something infinitely worse.

So you want to throw Jane at me to do it, you sick piece of shit?? [His voice rises sharply, agonized. He can't believe this. He cannot believe it.]

That's your lesson of the day? You think I shouldn't-- you think I killed Richie and I shouldn't've so you make up this fucked up story about Mr. White murdering my girlfriend?!

I'll request the Admiral give you a copy of your file, but it is a poor day when you'd rather believe in the person that has made you kill people over the one who hasn't.

Shut up! Just shut up! I should've known you'd pull something like this-- I knew you didn't get it from the start.

Hey, you want to ask questions, here's a question: why should I trust your bullshit file over the guy who saved my life? My-- [He hesitates over the word, but no, he's defending Mr. White, here, and maybe the Doctor just won't get it unless he breaks out the big guns.] My family. For all I know, you told the Admiral to doctor it!

[The Doctor does get it, but it doesn't change the fact. And he thinks Jesse knows it somehow, too.] He didn't save her life. You're the one he needed. There might be some affection there, but you're the one he knew he could make do what he wants. Yes. I do resent him for it.

[He doesn't. He can't. He won't.] You're lying!

[He's not even going to reply to this one. He's just going to let him go for a while, because either he'll believe it or he won't.]

[The feed switches off with an angry growl a moment later, but it's not long afterwards that there's a pounding at the Doctor's door. He'll find Jesse standing there tense as a coiled wire, fists clenched, face red and puffy, voice rough with anger and horror.

He's not sure why he's given in enough to come up here, because a big part of him is still shouting inside that he can't. But something's driven him, his brain furiously rationalizing even as he moves up the stairs. Maybe he can find an error in the file, or prove it's a fake, or-- or something. Find out why this is happening, why someone would do something like this.

He's telling himself he still knows which someone and which something he means.]

Show me.

[He doesn't say a word. He just goes into his kitchenette (not his TARDIS), opens a safe in one of the cabinets, and takes it over to Jesse. Many inmates have been given the chance to read their files. This was the only thing holding him back.]

[It's something that occurs to him, too, and a little snake of dread coils up his arm as he takes the file.]

John didn't want me to read this, either. [He says it tightly, jaw clenching; it's the first he's come to admitting it may not be only in the Doctor's mind.]

[He sits down on his couch to wait.] It's why I hadn't offered it. [He can confirm that.]

[For a half a second, he looks like he might just rip the thing up right there, unread. Maybe it would be better that way. If he could just forget, right now...

He sinks down onto the couch next to the Doctor and opens the file, reading it over. It'll be a while: one might expect him to jump right to the part about Jane, but he doesn't. He reads it all, intently, almost breathlessly, knee jiggling with anxiety as he takes it all in, the details of his life.

He's hoping for a mistake somewhere, something he can point to. Even just a date out of place, although his memory for dates is fuzzy as hell. Something, somewhere.

But it's all just... there. The first thirteen years are pretty uneventful, and then it starts to get good around paragraph two. He reads it all over with more attention than he's given anything since he was running the business, and he reads the first part again, just to be sure, before he moves into the gory stuff.

The Doctor can probably tell when he gets to her. The bouncing knee stops, but his breathing, heartrate, pick up sharply. He shifts the file to one hand and rubs the other over his face, covering his mouth, but when he reads that line, a small sound escapes anyway.

Walter White was present.

Walter White chose not to intervene.

Walter White watched her die.

It carries on after that, into the parts he remembers, the words Mike had him burn into his mind to give to the police -- "I woke up, I found her, that's all I know" -- but it all blurs, and then he's blinking quickly, blinking back tears, and struggling to breathe.]

Edited 2012-05-22 00:55 (UTC)

[He doesn't say anything. He can't say anything, because he knows what happened there. A replay of one of his biggest regrets, and watching a reaction wash over Jesse.

He leans forward and rubs his face, trying to work the strain that he knows is there out of his expression. There's nothing he can say, nothing he can do to make this better except for sit there. But Jesse needs to know. As unpleasant as it is, he can't blindly follow people or act on their behalf when some of them might do this.]

It's not-- it's not true, it...

[He's trying, but it sounds so weak now. His voice is barely a voice at all. But he has to keep believing it, he thinks, because how can he live with the twisted idea that the same man who found him in the middle of a meth den, who listened to him cry over her, held him, took him to rehab, killed people for him, who--

--who--

He looks up, shaking, eyes wide.]

He told me, once. He apologized. I didn't understand...

[It can't be true, but now he knows it is.]

I don't understand.

Edited 2012-05-22 01:55 (UTC)

He wanted you to himself. Nothing perverse or romantic about it. He just wanted you around and without the distraction of a relationship. A lonely, sick man who made a horrible decision.

[He didn't pity him. He did sound resigned.]

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