[OPEN] Wait, let me set the record straight: I was never really yours in the first place.

[hostage]

Date & Time: January 9 and onward
Location: in and about town
Characters: Jesse & OPEN to anyone
Summary: A chance for an everyday encounter with Jesse. Put the date in your subject line!
Warnings: Breaking Bad spoilers are likely.

[Jesse might be the only one who finds Exsilium's current state beautiful rather than desolate and depressing. For more reasons than one, if given the choice between here and home, he'd choose here without hesitation. The snow and the chill do nothing to deter him from taking long walks. For as long as he can physically stand it, he prefers the cold over being confined inside four walls.

So he walks. Every day, without any particular destination, without anything else to occupy him. The concerns of the Initiative and the Transports are no longer his own. Whatever they're up to, they mean little to him. He's still got enough stolen Russian gold to pay for whatever he needs without having to work, so that's how he's choosing to live for as long as he's able. His time is spent doing whatever he wants to do, and at the moment, what he wants to do is wander.

Freedom: that's what this is about. No one is ever going to make him do anything ever again.]

Comments

[hostage]

[Jesse stumbles back a few steps before catching his balance. Then he brushes himself off and gets right back in Saul's face, shoving him in retaliation.]

Cut the crap, Saul. I seen the future now. Got a nice picture of what your hope for me looks like.

[5055034455]

[Saul's harder to throw off-balance thanks to his training, but he still takes a step back. He stays there for the moment, though, glaring with his hands flexing at his sides like he's getting ready to throw a punch.]

Yeah? Go ahead, enlighten me.

[hostage]

[Jesse shifts in his step, preparing to meet any hit with a counterattack, but not making to strike again just yet. His eyes narrow, his voice lowering to a hiss:]

You were always his little bitch, weren't you. Not just about poisoning Brock, either. You did everything you could just to save your sorry ass, even if it meant getting rid of me. Hell - you wanted to get rid of me. Telling him everything I did, driving me out to the desert, some bullshit story about getting me outta town. Judas motherfucker, you even gave him their address so he could use 'em to trap me.

[5055034455]

[Jesse's got him — up to a point. Yes, Saul did what he had to do to stay alive; yes, once upon a time, he'd wanted Jesse out of the picture; yes, those were the easy ways out, and he took them, because that's what he used to do.

It's the mention of the desert that finally gets him looking genuinely confused, head tilting slightly to one side.]

Whose address?

[hostage]

[That look pisses him off even more.]

Andrea and Brock's.

[5055034455]

[That doesn't make sense, but he goes cold anyway.]

Wh—

[Oh.]

Jesse, I...

[How the hell is he supposed to explain that that wasn't him?]

[hostage]

[Jesse doesn't want to hear it, anyway. He takes a step back, nodding in affirmation.]

And congratulations, 'cause you won. You won.

[5055034455]

What the hell did I win, huh? Are you gonna tell me he finally killed you? Did I get to skip off into the sunset with a nice chunk of the empire stashed in my offshore bank account?

[Because it sure as hell doesn't sound like he won a damn thing.]

[hostage]

Probably! Sitting back laughing somewhere, probably off in the Bahamas living it up. Fuck if I know where you ran off to after everybody else got their brains splattered all over the desert. You and him and a barrel of cash. Couple of bloodsucking honeymooners.

[He looks Saul up and down like he's looking at a piece of garbage, then turns his head away, the disgust overtaking him - or masking the deeper hurt, the betrayal he feels. He'd loved Saul. He honestly had.]

[5055034455]

[Yeah, he's sure that's exactly what happened. The thought of it almost makes him sick. Running off with Walter and all that dirty money...

When Jesse turns his head, Saul looks pained — actually, physically pained.]

Jesse, look at me.

[He sounds it, too.]

Just for a second.

[hostage]

[He keeps his gaze firmly averted, teeth grinding.]

I swear to fucking god, if you start with this shit...

[5055034455]

[He's starting with this shit.]

Look at me and tell me that you honestly think I'd do any of that. Not — not the me back home who apparently did, but me. In front of you right now. The one who helped you get better, who stuck with you for nine months, who apologized over and over. I tried so hard, Jesse! I tried to help you, and you —

You left. No note, no goodbye. Nothing. Just — poof. Gone.

[hostage]

[He's still glaring at the ground. He'd much rather look at the mud than at Saul.]

Are you... seriously... trying to get me to apologize to you right now? Seriously?

[5055034455]

I don't want an apology! I just want —

[He doesn't know what he wants, actually, but this sure as hell was never it.]

I want you to stop thinking I don't care about you.

[hostage]

[He finally raises his eyes, cold.]

I don't care what you want.

[5055034455]

[Saul has to stare at him for a long, long moment before he can find any words, and even then he can't get them out.

Nothing could possibly convey how fucking much this hurts.]

[hostage]

[Jesse shakes his head.]

Don't. Don't look at me like that. Like this is something I'm doing to you. Like you don't deserve every bit of this shit. You got no idea what you helped him do to me, and you don't get to say it ain't you, 'cause this goes back. It goes way back.

You think it all gets wiped away just 'cause you helped me out here? What're you counting as "help", anyway, huh? Just 'cause you stepped in and didn't leave me to die? Oh, yeah, I owe you so much for the one time you decided to be a normal, decent person instead of a total scumbag.

Or, um, let's see... How else did you help me? Telling me I was crazy, that was a good move. Making me think I couldn't think for myself. Setting me up with a shrink and everything, so everybody in this place got good and convinced I was a total psycho. Thanks. Yeah.

Oh my god, and the thing where you totally lied about how I died and everything? Yeah, that's really great. I've really been loving the last few days, having to tell everybody how I overdosed. Thanks so much for that, too. You really spared everybody involved a lotta heartache there.

[He pauses to take a breath, then lets out a short laugh.]

Why am I even talking to you?

[5055034455]

[Holding Jesse's gaze while he speaks doesn't do Saul any favors — it only makes the lump in his throat feel that much harder.

He can't say Jesse's wrong, but on some level, he is. There's so much that's been left out, and it's all Saul can do to not spit I took a bullet for you, you motherfucker in Jesse's face.

But what makes him feel worse isn't that Jesse's kicking that and a few other Big, Important Details to the curb; what hurts is that all those little things that meant so much to Saul apparently didn't mean jack shit to anyone else.

He's almost smirking when he finally speaks again.]

I get it now. Why Walt chose you.

[hostage]

The fuck is that supposed to mean?

[5055034455]

Kindred spirits, right?

[hostage]

[Rage flares over his features and he advances on Saul. If he had his gun, he'd pull it out and shoot without another word. But he doesn't. All he's got is the hatred in his eyes.]

Say that again.

[5055034455]

[Saul, stupidly, doesn't even flinch.]

Y'know how people kept giving him chance after chance even though he didn't deserve a single one of them?

[hostage]

What kinda chance do you think you ever gave me?

[5055034455]

[Boy, does that make him laugh.]

Are you fuckin' serious? Do you really need me to answer that for you?

[hostage]

Yeah. Yeah, tell me, Saul. What part should I thank you for? Not killing me sooner?