And everything was buried by the deep blue sky.

[hostage]

Date & Time: April 1
Location: Unit 409
Characters: Jesse & Saul
Summary: A boy is reunited with his criminal lawyer.
Warnings: Breaking Bad spoilers y'all.


[It must be a too-familiar sight for his roommates by now: Jesse sprawled on the couch, a mess of old plates and leftovers and crushed cigarettes all around him. He's asleep, but not deeply. Drifting in and out like he's been doing since he "woke up" this morning. He made a good call, giving up cookie duty this month. He'd probably be passed out in that tent right now, rain and cold and everything. It's warm in here, though, and all the warmer for that blanket wrapped around him. The door's left unlocked - yes, even with the recent attack and everything. Jesse's gun is within arm's reach, anyway, tucked right under the couch. And even so, he's not worried. He's too tired.]

Comments

[5055034455]

No, what you basically did was give me a verbal pink slip. Not being able to pay me isn't the same thing as firing me.

So — what, that's it? I'm off the hook. Not your lawyer anymore, so I should just flounce on outta here and pretend like I'm not, oh, I don't know, maybe concerned for you as a fellow human being?

[hostage]

[Instead of warming up at that, Jesse gets icy. The very last thing he wants right now is another person who cares about him, getting all wrapped up in his bullshit and then getting pissed off when they find out what he's up to. Jesse can't quite look Saul in the eye when he snaps the next words:]

I don't need your concern, alright? I'll survive.

[5055034455]

Yeah?

[That sounded worse out loud than it did in his head. He backpedals a bit, waving a dismissive hand.]

Okay, fine. You might not need my concern or my legal advice or anything from me anymore, but the fact unfortunately remains that you're the only person here I know.

So there's that.

[hostage]

[...Saul's lonely?

It takes a second for Jesse's head to switch gears. He's not used to thinking of Saul in human terms. That is, they're former business partners and even brothers-in-terror under the reign of Heisenberg, but under any normal circumstance, Saul would not be seeking Jesse's company.

Of course, this is far from normal circumstance, so Jesse nods and turns and opens up a cabinet to pull out a bottle of well-aged whiskey and two tumblers.]

Did you check out your place yet?

[5055034455]

[Lonely isn't the word he'd use. Too freaked out to be alone at this current point in time? Yes, but not lonely.

He looks relieved when the alcohol appears, in part because he's really not sure what exists here and what doesn't. Then again, Jesse just confirmed the existence of meth, so maybe this place isn't that different from home.

And that, on top of the war thing, is kind of worrying.]

Yeah, I dropped my stuff off. No one was there. Should you be drinking?

[hostage]

I'll be fine. Drinking's not really a thing for me.

[He pours one for himself and one for Saul, the latter being a bit more generous because, like he said, he's not that into it. But he raises his glass for an ironic little toast.]

Welcome to Hell, I guess.

[5055034455]

[Saul raises his glass in return, then downs a little more than half of it in one go.

Alternate universe whiskey is great.]

Thanks. Is it — is it really that bad? The war thing? I did the required reading, and it's not like I can't see what a mess this place is, but...

[He trails off, frowns.]

I picked out a gun. I can count on one hand the number of times I've fired a gun, and can't count the number of times I've had to shoot at someone because that's never happened.

[hostage]

They'll train you. You'll get good at it, if that's what you wanna do.

[Jesse barely sips at his whiskey. The glass is mostly there so he can turn it back and forth between his hands.]

It's bad when there's surprise attacks. Most of the time, it's just a lotta sitting around. Even missions, you can mostly sit 'em out and there's not a lotta fighting. But when the bombs just come falling outta the sky, that's the worst part.

[5055034455]

What I want — ?

[And now Saul's glass is empty.]

No, I can't really say I want to shoot anyone, even with my fancy electroshock bullets. I'm not that guy.

[He hires guys to be that guy. He's not that guy.

He sets the glass down and taps his thumb against it, thinking. It's not that he wants to bring this up again, but it's either 1) talk about legitimate, actual, real life war, or 2) talk about Jesse. The second option is easier, but it's kind of surprising, even to him, how he sounds sad when he asks his next question.]

And the meth... what? Is an escape?

[hostage]

[You know who doesn't want to talk about Jesse? Jesse. He gnaws on his lip for a second, staring down into his whiskey, then sets the glass down on the counter and nudges it away.]

It's a lot easier to shoot people when you got a drug that'll make you not care so much about 'em.

[5055034455]

[Wow, that sure was a sudden shift from vaguely sad to pissed.

Not that he's mad at Jesse.

There are few things in this world — well, in their home world — he'd blame Jesse for.]

How long have you been here?

[hostage]

Like eight months.

[5055034455]

But I just —

[Pause. Then, mostly to himself:] Time traveled a thousand years into the future, so I don't know why I'm surprised to hear that our whole timeline... thing... is messed up.

Eight months. Damn.

[hostage]

There's a lotta people been here longer than that.

[5055034455]

I'm a little shocked that people have survived longer than that.

[hostage]

Some of 'em didn't exactly survive. But, you know... Dead ain't really dead for us. So...

[5055034455]

[Blink, blink.]

So this is one of those situations where you're gonna have to elaborate.

Slowly.

[hostage]

Right, umm... The Initiative brings us back. Us Transports, I mean, like you and me and anybody else they brought here to fight. They can respawn us, like in a video game. So if you get shot or blown up or whatever, they can bring you back. Just us, not their own people. It's something special about us. Which is why we do their fighting, right? 'cause it's like we're immortal.

[5055034455]

...and this is where you start laughing and yell gotcha, right?

[Because otherwise...

No wonder Jesse's still doing meth. No wonder they'd give someone like Saul a weapon.

Immortal?

Really?]

[hostage]

Honest-to-god truth. But I wouldn't go testing it.

[5055034455]

"Die" isn't really on my to-do list today.

Unless we're dead already.

[oh look who's pouring himself more liquor now]

[hostage]

[Jesse falls into an awkward silence at that, reaching for his glass again to take another useless sip.]

[5055034455]

[Saul has to wonder why Jesse does things like that. It's like reverse psychology; Jesse clearly doesn't want to talk about this, but Saul is in a need-to-know position.

Or was, anyway.

Wants-to-know.

Not really the same thing. So:]

You should be drinking water. Or Gatorade. Do they have that here?

[hostage]

[Jesse rolls his eyes at that.]

No.

[But rather than argue about how sober or not he should be, he pushes the glass away again and folds his arms.]

[5055034455]

No to which?

[Trying to lighten the mood with a stupid joke? Why yes.]