"It's cool, seriously." God-- this could have been him, with a little more time. Maybe this was him. He doesn't remember the early days here very well.
He hands over the glass and takes a drink from his own as he sits down, not on the futon, but in the papasan chair next to it. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, trying to catch Credence's eye. "Listen -- right off the bat, I promise: you can ask me for anything, okay? Worst thing I'll do is say no, but I'll... I'll try not to, you know, if I can."
Christ. Is there a reasonable way he can ask Credence to never actually address him at all? He's not sure he can take the discomfort.
"It's all good," he murmurs, then trails off for a moment, thinking. His conversational skills have... dwindled, and he's pretty sure he can't trust the kid to carry the conversation for him the way Erskine does. He takes another drink, then sets it on the floor, his knee jiggling anxiously. He clasps and unclasps his hands.
"So," he tries. "Um... You've been here at least a month, anything you still need the rundown on?"
He gives it some genuine thought. So far none of the questions he's asked have had answers which have made him happier, or even feel much more knowledgeable. He's explored as much of the ship as he wants to. Slightly more, in fact.
"I - I don't know where to find laundry soap," he says, finally. "I had a little in my room but I've run out."
And the laundromat on board is something he glanced into once and never returned to, because his image of an electrical washing machine is very different.
"Uh, sure, I'll get you some detergent. Or you can use mine -- it's good with black stuff." And he has more left than he probably should, for how long he's been here.
Despite the slightly awkward beat of silence that follows, he realizes this is already going infinitely better than literally every other first inmate meeting he's had. Thank God. He's useful.
"Oh-- what about the phone, you need some help with that?"
He ferrets it out of his pocket and just peers at it.
"I don't use it much. Miss Annie asked me to keep it with me, in case I needed to speak to someone, if it was urgent. I don't -- I don't know how to contact someone who hasn't contacted me first."
Historically, not many people on the Barge have seen Jesse smile -- but apparently that's changing, because when Credence says Miss Annie, he lights up in a surprised but very pleased grin.
"Annie found you, huh?" Of course she had. Now that he knows, it seems insanely obvious. "Good."
"She's--" Amazing, incredible, maybe the love of Jesse's second life, the list goes on, but he should maybe try to hold on to like an iota of chill. "She's awesome," he settles, although it feels like the understatement of the century.
"We're kind of..." He makes a little hand gesture back and forth towards an invisible Annie. What would they say back then? Going steady?
Or hey, maybe he shouldn't talk about his love life right now. "Uh, anyway, she's right," he moves on, shifting over onto the futon itself and holding out a hand for Credence's communicator. "You should keep it on you. But you should know how to use it, too."
That his voice has changed and he's making hand gestures isn't lost on him, and he briefly wonders if he should try out Annie's slang. Hooking up. But, perhaps fortunately for both of them, he doesn't. Instead he just holds out his communicator.
"Do they use wireless? Um - radio?"
The first device that's even remotely similar to it is over a decade away, and even that will still be the size of a backpack.
"Kinda," says Jesse, who actually does know the difference this time but doesn't feel like it's worth getting into. "Close enough."
"The important thing," he continues, turning on the screen and showing it to Credence, "is to be able to, like, reach out and touch someone if you need to. So." He presses each of the buttons in turn, showing him how it switches functions. "Text, talk, video."
Credence nods, giving his full attention to Jesse's hands and none
whatsoever to his face. This is an unfamiliar subject but he's a quick
study, smarter than he credits himself with.
The real lesson would be to convince him that he's worth anyone's time to
come help when he's in trouble, but. Baby steps.
He's very quiet throughout the tutorial, not asking questions, just nodding
or murmuring the occasional yes, Jesse to confirm his understanding.
"And this," Jesse finishes, thumb hovering over the screen above his own name, "is how you get to me. Day or night, okay? Whatever you need. And mine--"
He pauses to fish out his own communicator, handing Credence's back to him at the same time. His is encased in a colorful if imprecise miniature mosaic, flames licking up the sides, but what he shows him is on the screen: the little symbol that represents Credence, alive and well in Jesse's cabin. "Mine tells me where you are if you're in trouble. And, um, if I don't have it for some reason, I'll make sure Annie does."
Credence backs off the subject as soon as he notices Jesse's discomfort, which is pretty much immediately. Of course then he has nothing to say at all, so he just gulps his water and wonders what mistakes he's made in this meeting, what he could and should have done better.
It's not him, of course; Jesse is harshly self-critical when he decides to really push himself, and he's become squirmingly embarrassed of all the flaws and fuck-ups he's found on the stupid case. It sucks, he wants to say. I know it sucks.
But he doesn't, and Credence doesn't say anything else, and Jesse does not love awkward silences. He clears his throat, knees bouncing anxiously. "So, um. Anything else?"
"I mean-- try not to kill anybody is probably a good one. At the beginning I tried to throw in don't be an asshole, but then I got a string of dudes who enjoy being assholes, so."
He glances Credence over, the corner of his mouth ticking up faintly. "You don't seem like that, so: don't be an asshole."
"I won't. I don't want to be - I just don't want to bother anybody. I don't
want to cause any trouble."
Though he's already hurt Elizabeth, and he tried to kill Bill, and there
was a near miss with Annie and he wishes that all these things were just
written on his skin so people could look at him and know how badly he's
already failing.
"That would - be fine," Credence says, an answer which has the benefit (to
him) of not actually expressing a personal preference. He just wants to be
told. He's perfectly good at following orders.
Jesse, of course, would like it to be a matter of personal preference, and his shoulders do sag very slightly at such an obedient answer. He doesn't push it, though. "Okay. Cool. Come find me at lunch, we'll hang out."
It's okay, he tells himself: it's still all steps forward, and that's the part that matters.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2017-02-01 09:20 pm (UTC)He hands over the glass and takes a drink from his own as he sits down, not on the futon, but in the papasan chair next to it. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, trying to catch Credence's eye. "Listen -- right off the bat, I promise: you can ask me for anything, okay? Worst thing I'll do is say no, but I'll... I'll try not to, you know, if I can."
no subject
Date: 2017-02-01 09:27 pm (UTC)"That's very kind of you - " He very nearly makes the sibilant sound of sir, but hauls it back. "...Jesse."
no subject
Date: 2017-02-01 09:35 pm (UTC)"It's all good," he murmurs, then trails off for a moment, thinking. His conversational skills have... dwindled, and he's pretty sure he can't trust the kid to carry the conversation for him the way Erskine does. He takes another drink, then sets it on the floor, his knee jiggling anxiously. He clasps and unclasps his hands.
"So," he tries. "Um... You've been here at least a month, anything you still need the rundown on?"
no subject
Date: 2017-02-01 09:46 pm (UTC)"I - I don't know where to find laundry soap," he says, finally. "I had a little in my room but I've run out."
And the laundromat on board is something he glanced into once and never returned to, because his image of an electrical washing machine is very different.
no subject
Date: 2017-02-01 10:04 pm (UTC)"Uh, sure, I'll get you some detergent. Or you can use mine -- it's good with black stuff." And he has more left than he probably should, for how long he's been here.
no subject
Date: 2017-02-01 10:10 pm (UTC)And he's already had a flood. And a death toll. And he's been two animals.
no subject
Date: 2017-02-01 10:21 pm (UTC)Despite the slightly awkward beat of silence that follows, he realizes this is already going infinitely better than literally every other first inmate meeting he's had. Thank God. He's useful.
"Oh-- what about the phone, you need some help with that?"
no subject
Date: 2017-02-01 10:24 pm (UTC)He ferrets it out of his pocket and just peers at it.
"I don't use it much. Miss Annie asked me to keep it with me, in case I needed to speak to someone, if it was urgent. I don't -- I don't know how to contact someone who hasn't contacted me first."
no subject
Date: 2017-02-01 10:30 pm (UTC)"Annie found you, huh?" Of course she had. Now that he knows, it seems insanely obvious. "Good."
no subject
Date: 2017-02-01 10:33 pm (UTC)"She's been very kind to me. A lot of people have."
Which he's reporting as an anomaly, a run of good fortune (Bill not included) that he expects to change.
no subject
Date: 2017-02-01 10:41 pm (UTC)"We're kind of..." He makes a little hand gesture back and forth towards an invisible Annie. What would they say back then? Going steady?
Or hey, maybe he shouldn't talk about his love life right now. "Uh, anyway, she's right," he moves on, shifting over onto the futon itself and holding out a hand for Credence's communicator. "You should keep it on you. But you should know how to use it, too."
no subject
Date: 2017-02-01 10:50 pm (UTC)"Do they use wireless? Um - radio?"
The first device that's even remotely similar to it is over a decade away, and even that will still be the size of a backpack.
no subject
Date: 2017-02-01 11:33 pm (UTC)"The important thing," he continues, turning on the screen and showing it to Credence, "is to be able to, like, reach out and touch someone if you need to. So." He presses each of the buttons in turn, showing him how it switches functions. "Text, talk, video."
no subject
Date: 2017-02-02 07:47 am (UTC)Credence nods, giving his full attention to Jesse's hands and none whatsoever to his face. This is an unfamiliar subject but he's a quick study, smarter than he credits himself with.
The real lesson would be to convince him that he's worth anyone's time to come help when he's in trouble, but. Baby steps.
He's very quiet throughout the tutorial, not asking questions, just nodding or murmuring the occasional yes, Jesse to confirm his understanding.
no subject
Date: 2017-02-04 12:26 am (UTC)He pauses to fish out his own communicator, handing Credence's back to him at the same time. His is encased in a colorful if imprecise miniature mosaic, flames licking up the sides, but what he shows him is on the screen: the little symbol that represents Credence, alive and well in Jesse's cabin. "Mine tells me where you are if you're in trouble. And, um, if I don't have it for some reason, I'll make sure Annie does."
no subject
Date: 2017-02-04 12:29 am (UTC)He finds he doesn't mind that. Annie knowing where he is.
"What happened to yours?" he asks, of the mosaic. "Did - did you do that?"
no subject
Date: 2017-02-04 12:35 am (UTC)He shoves the phone back into his pocket, rubs the back of his neck. "It's not-- I dunno. It works."
no subject
Date: 2017-02-04 12:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-02-04 12:57 am (UTC)But he doesn't, and Credence doesn't say anything else, and Jesse does not love awkward silences. He clears his throat, knees bouncing anxiously. "So, um. Anything else?"
no subject
Date: 2017-02-04 01:03 am (UTC)"Are there...rules?" he asks. "This is a prison, so I thought...but people keep saying there aren't. I don't want to get anything wrong."
No more than he has already.
no subject
Date: 2017-02-04 01:09 am (UTC)He glances Credence over, the corner of his mouth ticking up faintly. "You don't seem like that, so: don't be an asshole."
no subject
Date: 2017-02-04 01:14 am (UTC)Credence stares steadily at his knees.
"I won't. I don't want to be - I just don't want to bother anybody. I don't want to cause any trouble."
Though he's already hurt Elizabeth, and he tried to kill Bill, and there was a near miss with Annie and he wishes that all these things were just written on his skin so people could look at him and know how badly he's already failing.
no subject
Date: 2017-02-04 01:26 am (UTC)He hopes, at least, for his sake. And hope is a nice thing to feel again, even just a little.
He chafes his hands, hesitating, then: "Do you want to maybe, like... set up like a lunch thing, or something like that...? Like a check-in?"
no subject
Date: 2017-02-04 09:06 am (UTC)"That would - be fine," Credence says, an answer which has the benefit (to him) of not actually expressing a personal preference. He just wants to be told. He's perfectly good at following orders.
no subject
Date: 2017-02-05 01:57 am (UTC)It's okay, he tells himself: it's still all steps forward, and that's the part that matters.