Trauma [Jesse Pinkman]

[C1]

Trauma (n.) An emotional wound or shock that creates substantial, lasting damage to the psychological development of a person.

"Mr. White...?"

"Are you serious? You drag me out to this stupid coffee shop just to ask me the same question I've been answering over my cell phone for the past week?" Mr. White's voice was rising and Jesse slid his hands off of the table and into his lap nervously.

Jesse winced. He hated it when people raised their voice and yelled. Just the loud piercing volume of their voice, and then the sharpness and bitterness in the tone that cut him like a knife and made him cower like a lame kid. He had my parents to blame for that. Thanks to his amazing upbringing anytime anyone raised their voice he cringed and winced and would have to focus on repressing memories.

"I just... I just thought I could convince you otherwise. Like, you know, persuasion? Compromise?" Jesse suggested weakly.

"Absolutely not. Compromise? I've put my life and family in jeopardy," he growled.

"This is what you wanted! You're doing this for your family!" Jesse exclaimed, "You have your own empire, Mr. White. You're just gonna leave it behind like that?"

"Shut up." he said tensely, leaning forward in his chair towards Jesse, "You wouldn't understand."

Jesse rolled rolled eyes. Mr. White sounded like a nagging teenager who got pissed off at their parents.

"Then enlighten me, Mr. White, please," Jesse droned, "Please, tell me one reason why you won't go back."

"In case you didn't remember, Jesse, I have a family who cares about me. Not that you'd understand," he snapped.

If they weren't in a public area Jesse would've shoved him off his chair and started punching him, but he kept his cool. Jesse clenched his fists in his lap and narrowed his eyes at him. Mr. White ignored him, though, and continued talking.

"My wife... she never talks to me anymore. Ever since I told her the truth, which is what she wanted so badly in the first place, she doesn't trust me. She stays away from me at all times. She spends her days out, somewhere. She sent Junior and Holly to my brother-in-law's and she won't let me see them. She won't even let me eat dinner with her when I catch her at home. She's tried to talk to me about divorce and she called the police on me in attempt to have me thrown out," Jesse noticed now that Mr. White was crying softly, wet tears staining his cheeks as he sniffled and wiped his eyes stupidly.

Jesse looked around the café awkwardly, relieved that no one was watching them. He wasn't very good at consoling people, especially if it was his sixty year old meth partner. Jesse scratched behind his ear while squinting his eyes uncomfortably.

"Why... I just don't understand..." Mr. White cried quietly, trying not to talk shakily.

"Mr. White, but don't you want to continue what you've already started? How could you have declined Gus's offer? Saul told me what he was planning; we would become millionaires," Jesse urged, awkwardly avoiding eye contact.

"Don't you understand?! I've lost my family over this. And the whole reason why I started this was for my family!" Mr. White yelled, making Jesse retreat backwards.

"Please, Mr. White, calm down..." Jesse's voice shook, afraid of the unexpected actions Mr. White could do.

"Look, Jesse, I'm sorry, okay? I just can't go back into the business. Ever. Okay?"

"Mr. White -- "

"Shut up. No. Never. I can't go back. End of story."

Jesse wasn't paying attention anymore. His chin was rested in the palm of his hand as he gazed at the most unique girl he'd ever seen. She was sitting by herself two tables over, staring out the window with her chin in her palm, too. Her mouth wasn't smiling, but it wasn't frowning, either.