slightlyoffchilt | - IC CONTACT POST FOR MASKORMENACE -

You know that is quite confidential information, Jesse. [Chided Chilton, the smirk on his lips thankfully faint.]

I wouldn't want to be accused of unethical practice, now.

As if you're not gonna tell him everything I'm saying to you.

I'm not going to tell him anything you've said to me, not in midst of these current events.

[Chilton perhaps tipped his hand, indicating that he knew Walt would take it out on him.]

These current events.

[That's one way to describe his ongoing torture. Jesse kneads his forehead and goes back to pacing.]

I didn't start it. I let it happen. That doesn't mean I started it. You know what he's like when he's mad. It's easier to just give him what he wants.

It's easier to let him think he got what he wanted, Jesse.

[Chilton's eyes flickered up, measuring his patient's expression.]

That allows you to buy yourself a little time. You and -- you and I both know that if Walter White thinks he is right, he'll pursue the matter until your recite those words right back to him.

But recitation isn't the same as surrender.

Ain't no difference. It's just surrendering but telling yourself you're the real winner. It doesn't matter.

[If it made any difference, his gambit would have made him feel better, not worse.]

There is a difference, Jesse. Buying time is a strategy that could work in your favor. However, if you take issue with my method of purchase, then you're free to invent your own.

But nihilistic thought patterns will do you in quicker than any action against Walt will.

[Jesse twitches irritably, giving a slight shake of his head. More to clear it than out of any actual disagreement. He sees what Chilton's saying, but he doesn't know if it's what he wants to hear, or what good any of it will do. Buying time, sure, but for what? What strategy?]

Anytime I say no to him, he takes it like I just straight-up told him I'm gonna kill him. There's no setting boundaries. Anything that doesn't sound like what he wants to hear is a threat to him. All the time in the world ain't gonna change that.

Then find a surrogate.

[If Chilton was aware of any irony in his statement, he didn't exhibit it. In truth, he considered himself an observer, and occasionally a manipulator -- someone who readjusted variables for the optimal outcome. People like Jesse Pinkman and Will Graham were a different kind of animal, and just as foreign to his DNA as Walter White and Hannibal Lecter was. Chilton was neither prey nor predator; he was a scavenger.

So a surrogate seemed plausible and low risk.]

He was rather fond of Matthew Lin, for -- well, at least a few weeks. I'm not suggesting you're replaceable, Jesse. Walt will never consider anyone to be as you are to him. But given Walt's... Tendencies, I mean, they are destructive habits aren't they? You can find someone to siphon off the worst of it.

That's how you buy time. You find a patsy.

[Jesse turns on Chilton at that suggestion, looking more offended than the guy's probably ever seen him.]

Jesus Christ - No.

[The thought of that makes his stomach turn, even if there's no love lost between him and Abduxel. To knowingly offer up someone else in his stead, let that person suffer for him? That's Chilton's game, for sure, but it's not Jesse's.]

[Quite the visceral reaction. Chilton raised an eyebrow, but relented; clearly Jesse Pinkman favored personal integrity. He wondered, briefly, if that's what Walt felt so magnetized to -- magnets in the more literal sense.]

It was only a suggestion.

[A beat followed.]

If you're going to martyr yourself, then at least think of some way to protect those of whom Walt might consider expendable in his efforts to maintain you.

Edited 2015-08-18 05:43 (UTC)

[Ugh, that word.]

He's not gonna have to hurt anybody to maintain me. I know better.

Then you've known the answer the whole time, haven't you? Succumb to him fully. [Chilton sneered, his tongue licking at his teeth in show of brief scorn.] Give him what he wants, allow yourself to deteriorate.

[Jesse gives a full body shudder at that suggestion, and he steps forward like he's going to sweep his arms out and shove everything off Chilton's desk. Instead he catches himself, folding his arms over his chest to hug himself tightly and keep from lashing out. That's not... going to solve this. Taking his rage out on Chilton isn't going to fix the problem.]

You - You'd like that, wouldn't you. That works out pretty good for you.

Your personal distress was not taken into practical consideration with regards to my... Agenda. [Why deny it? Chilton could tell that Jesse Pinkman wasn't fond of liars, and he wasn't interested in embroiling himself in a battle of wills and untruths.] Walt made it quite clear, right out the gate, that you were untouchable.

What the hell is your agenda? What're you doing with him?

I'm treating him, Jesse. He is my patient. [As much a non-answer as was possible, and they both knew it.] You know I cannot speak of the psychological details of one patient to another.

If you're treating him, how come he's getting worse?

When you pull a band-aid off to pour on the isopropyl alcohol, you're going to see some welted sores. All part of the healing process.

You're pulling the band-aid off and rubbing dirt in it. I knew him for ten years and he never put a hand on me. Then he goes off to see you and comes back and -

[He realizes he's nearly shouting, so he drops his voice back to a growl.]

Fuck your patient confidentiality bullshit. I got a right to know what happened in Baltimore.

[Baltimore. So Walt was playing this game, was he? Measuring out information like a leash along Jesse Pinkman's throat. Conveniently blaming his doctor for his own mediated sins.]

He held me at gunpoint. Sedated me -- oh, you know. Typical Walt.

[It wasn't the full story, but the way Chilton spoke it had the airy tone of a whimsical anecdote.]

Suicidal ideation. Quite the problem for a man of his age -- is it one you share with him, Jesse? Does he see himself reflected in you?

[So Walt got halfway there, halfway to doing what Jesse told him to do, which was to get rid of the problem.

...And then what?]

I don't wanna die.

[Let them get that clear.]

I don't wanna die, I just want this shit to end. And it - It's the same for him. He had his perfect ending and then he showed up here and I took away the cancer and he hates me for that.

But you told him this was his purgatory.

So that makes me his Virgil throughout this little inferno -- harsh truths, ugly truths, but true nevertheless.

[Chilton leaned back in his chair, still watching his patient.]

You don't want to die, but could it be that some part of you is dead to him already? You're his Beatrice, the echo of what you meant to him is still guiding him. He can't only hate you -- though the animosity stirs complication, of course.

I don't even know what the fuck that means.

[References to epic poetry aside, he doesn't get how he can be an echo of something when he's right here. Alive and present. If anything, it's the future that's the echo.]

I doubt you want me to explain it to you, but I've got you for the remainder of the hour -- essentially, Walt will continue to chase any flicker of hope that you are the same man he remembers. You aren't, of course. You've changed, you have transformed, and ironically because of him. You'll continue to change.

Your compounds have a new sequence. Different bonds.

[Perhaps a chemical metaphor, then.]

He loves what was, and what could have been. And that right there, Jesse, that is your lifeline.

[Chilton was always aware of the future, but Jesse couldn't have known.]

Edited 2015-08-19 06:22 (UTC)

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