championoftime | (no subject)

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[He can't take his eye off his inmate for too long because that is a very seriously volatile conversation. But he needs to quickly say something.]

This is the Doctor. And if you're out there, and you've travelled with me...

Take care of yourself. Make a better future. I'm going to be somewhere in it, sometime.

[Whether he gets responses or not, this is at least said.]

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[Little bit of an unhappy noise.] Not even this once?

I won't be like this for long anyhow...

Why? What's happening? [He doesn't want her hurting. He hates it so much when she does.]

This body wasn't meant for me...

[Some time after things end with Walt, Jesse calls his warden. He looks about as one would expect, but there's a stillness about him now that wasn't there before. Like the eye of the storm, or the calm just after.]

Did you see him?

Oh, I've finished that trial the Time Lords put me on. What about you?

[Technically he finished it a while ago, but it's not technically a lie.]

I'm glad to know that you get a bit better.

[He's a little flabberghasted.] Romana?

It's been a while since I've heard from you.

Yes.

[A pause.]

I kept my schedule open.

[He can be there if he's needed. He suspects that Jesse just might need someone.]

Has it? Well, I have been keeping myself rather occupied, now that you've mentioned it. And you?

[He nods a little, looking away from the screen.]

Good idea. That was probably a good call...

Ought I come talk to you about it?

[He looks older now, something in the eyes, but still young, too. His voice is very small, and he's talking to the ground more than the Doctor now.]

Yeah. Maybe... yeah.

Fairly occupied for a gentleman most likely midregeneration.

I'll be there in a mo'.

[He notices the difference, but doesn't want to get too hopeful. Not yet, not until he knows what's going on. He is hopeful despite himself, though.

He knocks on Jesse's door shortly after.]

[The door is locked -- it's always going to be locked, now -- but he answers it quickly, letting him in. The room is half-dark, the curtains drawn over the huge windows that usually let blank light in; Jesse's communicator sits abandoned on the table, switched off.

Jesse himself is maybe sort of a snapshot of what went down, because it's clear that he's been through a wreck over the last couple of hours, tearstained and rumpled, but up close, there's definitely a kind of peace to him. Not happy, but... still. He's not even smoking.

He waits till the door is locked again before speaking.]

It's over.

[He notes the somber mood, but also that the nervousness seems to ebbed out of Jesse.]

How much of it is over?

[Him and Walt? Or significantly more. Does he have the ability to mourn in peace? Has he said good-bye forever? Are the last straggling threads of futile rage gone?

He can hope...]

[He shakes his head, not to show that he doesn't understand, but that he understands all too well what he means: it's a gesture of finality.]

All of it. It's all... I told him goodbye. I told him it was over.

[He tells this information to the floor, but as soon as it's out of him, he looks up at his warden, looking for something. Approval? Confirmation? Reassurance? Maybe not, because he doesn't seem uncertain at all about it; there's even something like pride behind his eyes. But maybe he just needs to be reminded, after hanging up on the man who changed his life so much -- for better or worse -- that that's a good thing.]

Good man.

[He's careful to say the word man rather than lad or boy. He's grown into it. He goes over to sit beside of Jesse, putting an arm around his shoulders, even if he seems emotionally spent. It's quite a bit to go through.]

[It's the perfect thing to say at that moment. Jesse smiles, if tiredly, and leans into the touch without collapsing into it.

There's more he wants to say, but he takes a minute to gather his thoughts, assembling them into something coherent before he speaks.]

You were wrong, you know. [It's not accusatory, and he sort of shakes his head, to say that he doesn't need to be interrupted or corrected, here.] Not about-- what he did. You weren't wrong about that. It's right there in the file, and anyway, he admitted to it. He says... said... it was his biggest regret.

[His lips thin a little at that; he's not sure how to feel about that. He's not sure how to feel about any of it, but that's why he's still talking, after all.]

But... the why. It wasn't about power, it wasn't about control. Or not just that, anyways. I mean, maybe I'm stupid or naive or brainwashed to believe any of that, or to believe anything he says, but... I do.

I don't think I can really fault you for believing the better in someone, and not succumbing to their bad decisions while you're at it.

[That's true, too. The Doctor might have his doubts, but if Jesse has quit, then some positive thinking isn't so bad. Some people need to care despite everything.]

[He doesn't want to, really... but he's starting to understand what can and can't be changed. Even when the Doctor told him, when there was nothing to feel but hate, there was a part of him that said he had to be missing something. Now that he finally has the whole truth laid out before him, he knows it's right. And he knows he can't stop caring, even if it's not.]

He says he did it to protect me. That he-- he figured it was her life or mine, that it'd get me off the dope if she died, and...

["It will always be you, Jesse. Do you understand? I will always choose you."]

And, um. [He's getting choked up, now, but he pushes on.] I get it, I do, because that was the same way with Gale. I tried... so hard not to do it. I begged him to stop, call the cops, whatever it took. And we should've, I know that now, just like he should've called the ambulance. But I still... when he called me, told me to do it, I still thought the same thing. I still did it.

I would tell you that there's not much to show in love in taking someone's life- but I think you've more than figured that out in recent weeks.

[He's hesitant about the next statement.] I don't know that you intend to speak with Claire again or not. But she misses you a great deal- the you that's the real you, not the angry you.

You should at least tell her when you're prepared to. Only when you're prepared to, of course.

[He sniffles, recovering a little.] I left her a message. Before I called you. Just... to say I'm okay, and all, and it's over with. And I'm not asking for nothing, but she can get my money, for the house I promised her, if she wants it.

[Again, a beat; this time, he takes it to catch his breath, push back the tears.] I told her... I'm probably getting out of here soon. [He catches his warden's eye.] Right?

[He nods slowly.]

To be honest, I haven't a clue why you're still on my item. Perhaps you have to account for some of the things you did while you were angry. [He's obviously having to think on it, though.]

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