exsiliumlogs | [closed] yeah yeah and I'm alright

Entry tags:

[closed] yeah yeah and I'm alright

Date & Time: June 29 — July ∞
Location: Around Exsilium
Characters: Saul & TBA
Summary: A catch-all log for Saul's many business etc. meetings throughout the month, because otherwise there would be like a million logs up. Not even an exaggeration. An actual million.
Warnings: Drugs in Jesse's thread, violence in Coby's, sap in Effie's.

[Sometimes, the best way to get over something is to find a suitable distraction.

Since Saul's #1 distraction has always been work, he doesn't see why that can't be the case here as well — he may not technically be practicing law at the moment, but his skill set is undeniably useful. Extremely so. (As far as he's considered, anyway.) He doesn't need his own office or a secretary or a PI or a bodyguard to get plenty of shit done. He's Saul Goodman, for godssakes — what the hell good is he if he's not working?

His hands have been idle for too long, and look at where they've gotten him.

Devil's tools indeed.

So here he is, keeping busy. Training, doing business, drinking more coffee (and alcohol) than he probably should. Whatever works, right? Right.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[So close.

He glances back at her and, without missing a beat, says:] The first part I believe. The second part — not so much.

Worth a try.

And that there was someone big and bad after you both.

And here I have to pause and wonder: how much do I really trust you?

[He trusts her a hell of a lot — way more than he should — but as far as this is concerned...]

We get each other, right? Cut from the same cloth, blah blah? Because — if we were in opposite positions right now and you were about to unload this kind of personal information on me, I know I'd be filing it away for potential later use. I can't really take that risk right now. Not with this.

[Her lips twitch just a little.]

Not gonna deny it.

[But she reaches up to twist a lock of dark hair around her finger.]

But here's where I point out that we're on the same side. So if I'm using it, it's not going to be against you.

[Saul tilts his head, eyes narrowing just slightly in a thoughtful sort of way.]

Are we, though?

Aren't we?

Since this involves Jesse, no. I don't think we are.

[Her voice is light, her smile unwavering.]

Sorry. Why's that? Why would we be divided?

[Please hold as he digs through his memory for her exact phrasing —

Ah. There it is.]

"He is not getting shit from me." Your words. Because he attacked you, right? So I'm a little inclined to think we're not going to be on the same page, as far as this is concerned. I can't give you ammo to use against him.

[A laugh. She's had time enough to steel herself now, patch up all her wounds. Practice her good face.]

I'm female, I'm ethnic, and I work as a prosecutor in New York. If I held a grudge against every man who threatened to rape me, then, shit, that'd probably be a good five percent of the city. I'm beyond it.

[He leans over a little, bumping her shoulder with his, in lieu of an apology.

Because he really is sorry her can't trust her with this, but:] I can't risk it.

[A shrug, but there's something harsh in the way she sets down her cup, and she doesn't look over at him.]

If that's how you want to do it. I'm not going to kick up a fuss if we're not sharing information, but I think we're fucking ourselves over from the start if that's the policy.

[Double shit. He recognizes that reaction. He's quick to scramble for a response, but draws a breath to keep it from seeming too hurried.]

We're already on opposing teams, technically speaking. And Jesse — come on. You saw us. You know he's not just my client.

[Still no eye contact. Instead, after a moment - ]

You have family?

[Now there's a complicated question. He'll opt for the simplest answer:] Not really.

[There's a slight pause as he shifts around, moving so that he's sitting sideways and facing Sonya completely. Or as completely as he can manage, without her looking at him.]

But I do consider him family, yeah. If that's what you're asking.

It's not.

[Another sip, staring straight ahead.]

I do. They're the world to me. Two younger brothers, and I couldn't be prouder of them. Omaid is a fucking genius, and Mehrdad is the sweetest kid you'd ever meet. He wants to be a lawyer like me, and I'm fighting to talk him out of it.

There used to be four of us. I had a big brother, too. Pendar. We all loved the shit out of Pendar, but he made some bad choices. Got sent up for five years, served three. Came out harder, kept doing what he had been doing. So Mama and Father, they made the choice that they couldn't see him anymore. It broke their fucking hearts, but they had to.

Yeah.

[Saul leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, and absently spins his cup.]

Jesse's parents did that to him, too.

[Sonya shrugs. The part that she's leaving out is that she kept with him. That she stayed with him even when he moved uptown. That she was with him when the enemies he'd made inside caught up with him on the outside. That she'd held his hand when he'd died, and still had the shirt with his blood on it, balled up in the back of her dresser drawer.

That's what she keeps close. Pendar, and her love for God, and her fears. These are things that are hers, and sometimes her family's, and for no one else. Not even for people she likes.]

Pendar made his choices. Pinkman makes his. Someone's dealt a bad hand, you want to see if you can shuffle the cards around a little, that's fine. But you set fire to the gambling-hall in an attempt to get them out of that bad hand, and you're in the shit for arson at best, more likely a charred corpse.

[Look at her with the painfully accurate metaphors.

He turns his attention to Sonya again, lips pressed into a thin line, expression a little stony. Even if he explained it, it would probably sound like he's making an excuse for Jesse's behavior — no, it's not his fault, there's this guy and he's here and that's why Jesse went on a bender and got all grabby with you —

It is an excuse, in essence.

But there's so much more to it than that.]

I know. I also know that nothing I do will be enough to fix jack shit — the damage has been done, it's irreparable, there's no going back in this universe or any other. I know; I get it. I think about it every day. But I can't just stop trying. I promised him and a hell of a lot of other people that I'd protect him, and I am not going back on that. I'm seeing this through to the end, no matter what that end is. And if that makes me an idiot — well, that's not exactly breaking news, is it?

[She lets out a single, soft breath, something just short of a snort of contempt.]

Would you chain yourself to a sinking ship because you promised to take care of it?

[He recognizes that sound, too. It almost makes him smile.]

If I'm in part responsible for it sinking in the first place, yes.

[One word:]

Bullshit.

[Saul shrugs. He knows it's bullshit. If he were hearing this conversation from the outside, he'd think it was bullshit, too.

So what is he supposed to say to that?]

You're not a navy captain who'll be strung up for jumping off. You're not chained to the deck. And unless you traveled through time to specifically give him whatever chemical imbalance he has that makes him think that sexual assault, it's a fun and funny pastime, it's not your fucking fault. You jump the fuck off.

Sonya.

[He flinches at the sound of his own voice — his tone is too sharp, too defensive. A moment passes, the silence hanging in the air, before he speaks again.

His voice is much quieter, now. Sad, almost.]

I can't. I'm sorry.

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