Rebellion - Jesse Pinkman

Seventeen - N-95

Becca's POV --

Four days later

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I hadn't seen Jesse since I left his house the morning after our sleepover. We still texted- not much, but I understood he was busy with work so I tried not to bug him much. From his description, he couldn't apply much attention to things other than work while he was working. Granted, I was also busy catching up on my next art showing. As long as he texted a few times a day, ensuring he was alive and breathing, I felt okay. 

I rolled over in bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes before looking over at the alarm clock on my bedside table; 11:15 AM. I took my phone from the charger on my bedside table. As the light struck my eyes, I typed in my passcode and directed my attention straight to my messages app, hoping for a text from Jesse. He mentioned he got home two nights ago, but that he had some "personal stuff" to deal with. I didn't question it, as I didn't want to be naggy and suffocating. I noticed no 'good morning' text, as well as no response from the last night, so I assumed he was still sleeping. I texted first instead, set my phone back down, and staggered into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. 

After the coffee was finished, I went back into the bedroom and grabbed my phone before settling behind my easel, which held an unfinished canvas. I wanted this collection to have hidden sublimation - unnoticed faces and imagery here and there. I stared at the greens and blues scattered on the canvas, aching for detail. I looked back at my phone before beginning - 12 PM, no text. 

I worked for a couple of hours, energetic and satisfied with my progress. I was beginning to worry about Jesse, though. I decided to call him in hopes to wake him up in case he was still sleeping. I opened my phone, went to his contact, and called. 

Ring -- ring -- ring -- beeeep - yo yo yo, 148-3 to the 3 to the 6 to the 9, representing the ABQ, what up biatch? Leave it at the tone.

Maybe I should surprise him with lunch? I contemplated. Couldn't hurt. I grabbed my keys from the counter, heading to the local pizza joint before going to his place. 

As I pulled beside the curb beside Jesse's house, I saw a very familiar car - Walter's. My heart skipped for a moment, wondering why he'd be here. It must be someone else, I thought. There's no way my dad would be here. I nervously opened my car door, grabbed the pizza, and started toward the front door. 

I knocked a few times, waiting a few moments as I heard shuffling footsteps. I checked the knob, which was surprisingly left unlocked, and let myself inside. A horrible stench hit my nostrils, causing me to drop the pizza and quickly cover my nose. Just then, I see Jesse standing in the middle of the floor fitted in a large rubber apron, long gloves, and an N-95 mask, frozen in his spot and staring at me. "Becs-" he hesitated. 

"Jesse, qui-" Walter came around the corner of the hallway, sporting the same outfit. I stood stiff, almost lifeless, my eyes darting between them. "Becca, I-" 

I felt my eyes welt with tears, begging them not to fall. They were both covered in blood, and the house reeked of chemicals and decomposition. "Wh-what are you doing here?" I stared my father down, feeling a hint of anger and humiliation grow through my body. "Why are you covered in blood?" My eyes shot between them. 

As Jesse walked quickly over toward me, I jolted a few steps to the side. "Becs, I... you might wanna sit down," he closed the front door quickly. I shook my head rapidly, now letting the tears fall. He reached out to touch my arm. I gasped and let out a quiet sob, slowly realizing what was happening. "Let's go out back," he gestured toward the back door. 

I walked slowly toward the door, hearing the pair of footsteps following behind me. I glanced at the hallway as I walked by a horrifying sight; blood and chunks of... someone... covering the floor. I froze and looked up at the ceiling, seeing a gaping hole replacing the floor of the tub we'd showered in only a few nights ago. I jumped as I felt a hand nudging my shoulder, turning only to slap Walt in the face. He gave a sad look, continuing to walk outside. I followed. 

When we got outside, they both stood in front of me, taking their masks from their faces. I let myself fall onto the top step leading up to the door. "Is this what I think?" I asked with a shaky voice. I pointed at my father, "this is your business partner?" I asked Jesse, who nodded his head shamefully. I looked back at Walt, "what the fuck are you thinking? You have a pregnant wife at home. You have fucking lung cancer, for Christ's sake!" I raised my voice. Jesse looked over at him, a somewhat concerned, confused look sweeping across his face. "And you," I continued, pointing at Jesse, "you promised if you were in trouble, you'd tell me," my cheeks grew hotter as my eyes poured.

"It's complicated, Becca. I couldn't tell you who I was working with. I didn't wanna worry you with all this," his eyes watered. 

"Complicated?" I chuckled sadly. "Did you kill someone? More than one?"

Jesse and Walt looked at each other worriedly, then back at me. "There's- i-in the basement, I-, he's alive," Walt stammered. "He's not new to this, Becca. He knows too much. He knows who I am, and who you are. He'll come after us... I- I don't know what else to say,"

I buried my head in my hands, hoping I would wake up soon; that this was all just a horrible dream. "What happened?" I tried to calm myself, praying for self-defense. "How did you get here?"

I stared blankly as Jesse began talking.