I am your crisis; blue asbestos in your veins.

[hostage]

Who: Jesse & Joker
When: TBD
Where: Joker's (previously abandoned) lab
Summary: Jesse's been playing with someone else's chemistry set. He's about to find out whose.
Warnings: Language, drugs, violence... possibly graphic.


[Finally time to get back to work. Real work. Nothing makes him want to get back in the lab like seeing Walt's smug face again. Yeah, whatever, so Walt had maybe saved his life. But he hadn't listened. Jesse didn't want the drugs. He didn't want Walt's help, either. He'd been pretty damn happy to never see the geezer again.

At least Jesse has this secret. He has his fortune, he has his new recipe, and he has dreams. Green Glass is going to help him change his life. He's going to answer to no one - least of all, Walt. Jesse's going to be the boss this time and the scanté's just the first step.

He starts the day as usual, with a sweep to ensure there aren't any bums squatting in the building. But the place smells like shit, so of course no one's there. With his gun tucked into his waistband, he wipes the place down, slaps his gas mask on, and starts his cook. It's been weeks but the whole thing's like riding a bicycle: he probably couldn't forget it if he wanted to.]

Comments

[ace_of_knaves]

[The Joker weaves his way through the alleys of the industrial district. Around him, homeless men and women scoot against the wall to clear room for his passage. He does not look at them, or even acknowledge their existence.

Batman is gone. He can feel it in his bones. With no Batman there is no Joker and the clown has a few things to clear off his bucket list before he dies.

He pauses near the entrance to the old lab and sees footprints in the dust. Fresh ones. At first he thinks it might be that the cops have finally stumbled on another of his bolt-holes, but then...what is that smell? His nose crinkles at a smell like burning plastic coming from inside and he slinks down, quietly.

When he sees a young man standing over his old supplies he leans against the doorframe.]

Oh, dearie me, do I have a squatter?

[hostage]

[Back at home, in the RV or in the superlab, Jesse would always have his earphones on. Now that he's cooking in the middle of a densely populated city with no security and no partner, though, he's always listening. And the second he hears that voice, he swings around and draws his weapon.

He doesn't shoot, though. Mike gave him lessons, sure, but he isn't so skilled that he can aim properly with the mask on. And he wants to keep that mask on, if he has any hope of hiding his identity.

But when he gets a glimpse of who has just appeared in his lab, he wavers. He gives a sharp, frightened exhale and takes a step back, though the gun remains pointed.]

You're, uh... You're the Joker.

[ace_of_knaves]

Ah, my reputation doth precede me.

[He shoves his hands into his pockets and walks forward into the room, eyeballing the table for a moment before swinging his emerald back towards Jesse.]

Nice little gun. Can you shoot me before I get to you? Hmm?

[hostage]

Yeah, I can.

[A response that sounds more confident than he feels. But he keeps that aim trained on Joker, following him with his eyes.]

But I don't gotta, if you stay right there and take it easy.

[ace_of_knaves]

[He stops where he stands and grins, drawing his hand to his chest as he puts a foot forward and bows low.]

Oh, my apologies.

[He stands upright, sweeping his hand downwards, flicking a small knife towards Jesse's kneecap with the movement.]

Oops.

[hostage]

[Jesse jerks back but not in time, the knife lodging itself in his leg. He lets out a howl of pain and fires blindly before dropping his gun to yank the knife out of his knee.]

[ace_of_knaves]

[Joker steps over to Jesse, picking up the gun in his lavender-gloved hands.]

Sorry, sonny. It slipped. These old hands aren't as steady as they used to be.

[And he swings the gun outward to pistol-whip the young man.]

Now if you could just sit down maybe we can have a little chat about you've defiled my art!

[hostage]

[The gas mask, at least, blocks most of the blow, but it still sends Jesse sprawling on the floor. He'd managed to keep the knife in hand, but seeing the gun pointed at him now, he drops that, too.

He casts a glance at the barrels of chemicals around them before looking back to Joker, and swallows hard before he speaks.]

This place is yours... I didn't know! I swear, okay.

Look, the stuff I found here - it's all still here! I didn't take any of it anywhere, barely used any, you know... It's all still good. I can pay for what I took, okay? Just name your price, okay?

[ace_of_knaves]

[Joker places a Cuban heel against Jesse's throat and crouches down to pull the mask off, his eyes narrowing with mixed anger and hatred.]

My price?

[Without shifting his gaze from Jesse's, he gestures around the room]

I don't care about money, I care about the work.

All the work I put into my Venom and you've gone and turned it into another doofy designer drug to dope up the masses!

[He digs his heel in, lips curling back.]

You've cheapened my art and you've cheapened me! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW TICKED OFF THAT MAKES ME!?

[hostage]

You're right..!

[He has to choke out the words. They're barely audible.]

I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't know!

[But Joker's looking him right in the face now, ready to crush his throat and eager to use his own gun against him. There's no way he gets out of this alive, is there? Jesse's hand starts drifting back toward the fallen knife while he tries to distract the Joker with talk.]

We could just - We'll work something out. Okay?

[ace_of_knaves]

Work something out? Like what? Hm?

What can you offer a dying man now that you've gone and corrupted his artistic legacy?

[He tilts his head.]

You could stab me with that little knife you're reaching for. But methinks you won't enjoy the punchline.

[hostage]

No, no, that's not -

[He immediately lays his hand flat against the ground.]

You don't want money, right, so I, uh... I could be your boy, you know? 'cause this whole - the gun thing, messing me up, you know - I don't blame you. Messing with your, uh, artistic legacy. I get it. No hard feelings. I could cook for you instead, right? Whatever you want me to cook.

Just - please don't shoot me. Please.

[ace_of_knaves]

[He gasps]

Cook?

You think I'd make drugs!? Sure they can mess up a life and build a guy an empire but they're not fun!

Oh, and hi, I can play with my own dang chemistry set. Yanno?

[He presses the gun against Jesse's forehead.]

Maybe I'll just put some lead between your ears. Instant gratification, I know, but I'm a wee bit impulsive like that.

[hostage]

Please!

[He's getting frantic but he's too terrified to move an inch. Why? Why is he so scared? Why does he want to live so badly now, when only a few weeks ago he was daring Sylar to kill him?]

Just... tell me what you want me to do! I can... I can give you power, you know. That's what I do - for real! I can take anybody's power and give it to you! Just tell me what you want!

[ace_of_knaves]

Oh, really?

Hmmm...veddy interesting.

[He lifts the gun and holds out his hand.]

Wallet.

[hostage]

Okay... Just - getting my wallet...

[He still has his eye on the gun while he slowly reaches down. After a moment or two of tugging at his oversized jeans, he pulls the wallet free of his pocket. The ID inside it is a decent fake (Jesse Jackson, 29 years old, native-born and resident of Sector 6) and it contains no credit cards, only about $1000 in cash.]

[ace_of_knaves]

[Joker takes the wallet and leafs through the contents, eyes flitting across the cards. After a minute of this, he drops it back to Jesse's chest, all the contents still inside.]

Jesse Jackson, eh?

[He presses weight into the heel at the young man's throat.]

Don't suppose you'd like to give me your real name, would ya? Or am I gonna have to start getting creative?

[hostage]

Pinkman!

Jesse Pinkman!

[ace_of_knaves]

Neato.

[He leans forward but shifts his weight away from Jesse's throat.]

So here's what's gonna happen, Pinkie. I'll let ya go. For now.

But someday old Joker may call on you for a favor.

[He taps the bridge of Jesse's nose with the gun.]

I've got a lot on my bucket list, you know. So when I call on ya, you're gonna come. And, please, don't make me chase you. I'd really hate to cut my way through all your little buddies until I find you.

[hostage]

Yeah -

[Practically coughed out.]

Yeah, man. Anytime. You don't gotta ask me twice, yo, I'll be right there. Whatever you want.

[ace_of_knaves]

Good man.

[And, saying this, the Joker twirls the gun and slams the butt end against the side of Jesse's skull.]

[hostage]

[That knocks him right out with a half-formed curse of pain on his lips.]