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

[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.]

[hostage]

[Rejecting that joke with a flat stare.]

[5055034455]

[STARING BACK. Then pointing at the sink.]

I'm not kidding about the water. Do you know how many times I've had to call the carpet guys after one of my clients tossed his mid-withdrawal cookies all over the place?

[hostage]

It ain't that bad.

[But look, he is taking his glass to the sink, rinsing it out, and refilling it with water. If it will shut Saul up about it... He holds the glass up for Saul's approval, then takes a long gulp from it.]

[5055034455]

Whatever.

[Better safe than sorry, or something.]

So. What now?

[hostage]

What now? Now you settle in and get comfortable and hope your roommates ain't vampires or something.

[5055034455]

Comfortable. In the middle of a war zone — now with the added attraction of vampires! [jazz hands] — and you tell me to get comfortable.

Are you comfortable?

[hostage]

I got running water, the heat's working, and nobody's tried to kill me today. Yeah, I'm comfortable.