They had lights inside their eyes.

[hostage]

Who: Jesse Pinkman, Mary Winchester, Lisbeth Salander
When: Morning of Sunday, September 9
Where: Jesse's house
Summary: The girls realize Jesse's on a serious bender.
Warnings: D...rugs...


[Jesse paces the living room. It's become his lair. He's barely seen his bedroom in five days and he hasn't really slept in that much time, either. The den would be filthy if Lisbeth wasn't around to keep cleaning up after him, because taking care of the house is the furthest thing from his mind. He does this now: pacing, checking the windows and the shadowy corners, (inexplicably) staring into the empty fireplace... He has music blaring all the time. He plays video games for endless hours.

Right now, though... Right now, just pacing. It's early and he doesn't think Lisbeth's even awake yet, so it's quiet.]

Comments

[momchester]

[Mary is popping by mainly to talk to Lisbeth about something - inquiring about learning to hack, mainly - and since she actually was genuinely in the neighborhood, she thought she'd stop by now. There's a cheerful spring in her step, a wedding ring on her finger for the first time in a while, and a coffee in hand. She has half a mind to leave a message for Jesse as well, asking about help for Meowth's little problem.

She rings the doorbell and waits patiently, blowing foam off her latte.]

[hejhej]

[Jesse's wrong. Lisbeth had come home last night after a rather annoying brawl with John Winchester at around 1 AM. She cleaned when she got home, laid in the shower with the water running over her, and tried her best to fall asleep. But everything was so loud and she was so worried that she got only an hour and a half at best.

That was when she got the text from Mary about stopping by. She wasn't going to sleep anyway and she was nursing a black eye to begin she'd gotten from John. It was in self-defense since Lisbeth had swung first, but whatever.

When she hears the doorbell ring, she gets out of bed, dressed in boy shorts and a grey sweater - the weather had been nippy at night recently. Lisbeth sees Jesse pacing in the living room as she makes her way to the door. Even though he was the source of her frustrations recently, she still stops him and herself on the way to give him a kiss and a quick 'morning' before she finally reaches the door.

She opens it and sees Mary on the stoop.]

Hey.

[hostage]

[Jesse's startled when there's someone at the door. He knows a killer doesn't ring the doorbell (they knock instead) but he's still on edge. Thankfully, Lisbeth's there to take care of it. He's distracted as he kisses her back, but he's soothed by the gesture. It keeps him from going to find his gun.

Instead, he stands there awkwardly. Although all the way across the room, he still has a view of the doorway, and he stares anxiously to see who's visiting so early.

When the door opens to reveal Mary, however, he ducks out of sight quickly. The coffee table is littered with drugs and paraphernalia. Lisbeth cleaned up last night's mess but he was at it again this morning. Now he works quickly: the meth and weed go under the couch, the bong behind it - glancing up to see if Mary's coming in - his pipe goes in the pocket of his hoodie. There are still a couple of rocks and powder on the table's surface, which he's sweeping away, but...]

[momchester]

[It's too late. Mary sees some something on the table before Jesse sweeps it up, and of course the putting-away motions are even more suspicious by themselves. Not that she knows what it is from the sliver of the living room she can see, but.

She looks back at Lisbeth and smiles.]

Hi. Um. Bad time?

[hejhej]

[Lisbeth can hear him scrambling in the living room, but she doesn't react at all. She merely blinks tiredly at Mary - her eyelids holding the blink for a second longer - before answering her question.]

No, we just got up. Come in.

[hostage]

[Jesse catches Mary's eye for just a second, but it's long enough for him to assume he's been caught. He curses under his breath and gives up, sinking onto the couch. He resists the urge to cradle his head in his hands, instead pulling out a cigarette and lighter to busy himself.]