Trauma [Jesse Pinkman]

[C2]

"They made you blind, messed up your mind, but I can set you free" -- Meant to Be Yours from Heathers

Two weeks. Two weeks. Fourteen days. Jesse sighed and jangled his change in his pocket nervously as he approached the café. He hoped he wouldn't be embarrassing himself yet again by going into the café, ordering a coffee, and sitting there for hours on end in constant worry. He'd been doing it for the past fourteen days.

He hadn't seen Devon in fourteen days. Just from that one half hour experience with her in the park she consumed Jesse's mind. He visited the café and the park every single day even though he was beginning to lose hope in ever seeing her again. He didn't even see Kurt. He hoped Kurt was okay, too.

Jesse was beginning to believe that maybe Devon was just a one time dream that he'll never have again no matter how hard he tried.

"What would you like?"

Jesse blinked as he looked up, fumbling around with a five dollar bill in his hand at the counter.

"Oh, um, just a regular coffee," Jesse said, tapping his fingers on the counter. He handed the barista the money and went over to his table to wait until his name was called.

Where was Devon? Jesse had thought numerous times to just stop looking for her but he didn't want to for the slightest chance that she could still come back. He wanted to make sure he was present the day she decided to show up again. He hoped it would be soon, though, because even drug money couldn't hold him off forever with buying a five dollar coffee every single day.

"Jesse!" someone from behind the counter called a few moments later.

Jesse slid off the chair and walked over slowly to get his coffee. He mumbled a weak "thank you" and hoped the barista heard him. He took a sip of coffee as he sat back in his seat and prepared himself to begin slowly ripping his heart apart a bit more.

Even coffee wasn't giving Jesse the energy he was so deprived of. He'd been staying up for days on end just lying on his bed unable to sleep getting high. But when he wasn't high he was just wandering aimlessly around his house trying to get tired enough to drift off. He was constantly tired, deathly tired, but he couldn't sleep.

The door to the café opened and the three little bells above the door jangled. Jesse jerked around to see who it was, but it wasn't Devon. Of course it wasn't. She's gone, Jesse, he scolded himself for continuing to look for her. He could feel himself being pulled on, to just try one more day, it'll be this day, she'll be there this time, if you just stay a little longer...

Jesse was a fast drinker and in less than thirty minutes had nothing else to distract himself with. He tapped his fingers on the table quickly, sucking in his breath and blowing out air stressfully. Where was Devon? Was she just a dream? Was he high?

He decided to wait another fifteen minutes. Maybe he was more tired or aggravated today, because he began to get impatient and upset. Jesse could feel something wet by his eyes and went quickly to wipe it away before realizing... was he crying? Well, yes. But over Devon? No, he couldn't be... He'd only seen her once. Once. There was no way he was crying over her.

Jesse for up from his table noisily and walked over to the barista, who had always been there for the past two weeks. He smiled weakly at her and tried to think of something to say, but she jumped in and said something herself.

"Are you okay? I always see you around this time as I just brush it off as a normal customer, you know? But then, I'm sorry if this seems stalkerish, you like stay here for hours. I was just hoping you were okay," she smiled sweetly at him, playing with the bracelets on her arm. They reminded Jesse of the bracelets on Devon's arm.