Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If Mike were being honest with himself, he probably deserved part of the fault, but the urge to blame Walter for what happened was too strong to pass up.

He and the kid were out picking up dead drops, per usual, and something happened that completely blindsided Mike.

Mike considers himself a pretty capable guy. He's been in this business for a long time, and being a cop in Philadelphia was no cake walk. In all that time, Mike can count the number of times he's been blindsided on one hand, his employer slitting a man's throat with a box cutter included.

So when he and Jesse pulled up to the old warehouse and walked in, shovels in hand, the sight of five men about to execute another guy was kind of a shock.

Now, catch Mike on a good day and with ten minutes of forewarning, and he could take out twice that number without breaking a sweat. But, blame it on his bad back, his indigestion from breakfast, or Jesse's horrible excuse for music on the way over, and Mike was off his game.

Mike grabbed the front of Jesse's jacket and yanked him off to the side. They tried to peek around the corner as surreptitiously as possible.

"Who the hell are these guys? I thought this was supposed to be a secure location!" Jesse hissed, not too subtly.

Mike waved a hand at him to shut him up. They couldn't afford to get caught if they didn't want to be shot along with the man currently being executed. Mike watched as they shot the guy in the head and started to dig a hole in the dirt floor. He memorized all their faces so he could figure out who they were later. It was likely that they were just using this as a convenient space, and that this was just a bad coincidence. Hopefully they didn’t know Mike used this as a location for his dead drops.

For the next ten minutes, they hid behind the wall while the men buried their victim. Jesse was starting to bounce on the balls of his feet. Mike had experience staying still on nightlong stakeouts, but most people had trouble keeping still for more than a couple minutes.

The men finally began to pack up their weapons and head for their cars and they thought they were in the clear. But then, of course, Mike’s phone had to ring, volume turned up extra loud because, hey, he wasn’t getting any younger. Mike cursed softly and muted his phone, but not before seeing Walter’s name on the caller ID screen.

The men stopped in their tracks and turned around, guns raised. Mike pulled out his only pistol and peeked around the corner. The men were still unsure of which part of the warehouse the ringtone had come from, and were taking it slow.

“What do we do?” Jesse whispered urgently, his eyes wide. Mike took a second to consider, and then slapped his car keys into Jesse’s hand.

“Start the car,” He said, and then turned the corner, gun blasting.

Jesse hesitated for only a second before taking off for the car. Mike covered him, aiming and shooting at the man closest to him. The bullet went clean through his forehead, and the other four men scattered to defensive positions, letting off a few stray shots themselves.

Mike started to back up, letting off two more shots at them to ensure they didn’t get out. To his relief, he heard the roar of his car engine starting up, and Jesse pulled up to the open door of the warehouse.

“Mike, come on!” Jesse yelled out the side door. Mike shot once more and then turned tail and ran as fast as his arthritic legs would let him to the door. He slid into the passenger seat, and Jesse didn’t waste any time pulling out of the area, careening into the street and almost going into the opposite lane.

“Who were those assholes?” Jesse asked breathlessly, checking in the rearview mirror compulsively to see if anyone was following.

“I think they were just using the warehouse for the same reason we were. Bad luck.” Mike grunted and pulled out his cell phone which was ringing again.

“Bad luck?! Yo, Mike, if those guys find us, we’ll be fucked. Do you think they saw our faces?” Jesse turned again, heading out of their way to throw off any possible followers.

“You shouldn’t’ve said my name, kid.” Mike said and answered his phone. The voice on the line belonged to a man that, if Mike wasn’t such a levelheaded guy, he might have regular dreams about strangling. “What is it, Walter?”

Walter’s ‘Righteously Angry Voice’, which didn’t differ much from his ‘Pissed-Off Voice’ and ‘You’re An Idiot Voice’, came over the line. “You know, I’ve been more than willing to accommodate you borrowing Jesse for your little power trip of a side job, but I have also told you that I need Jesse on certain days of the cook. I have communicated to you that this is a two-man job, but if I need to go over it again, I’d be more than happy to-”

“Walter, shut up. Because of you, me and the kid just got shot at and are possibly being followed;” Mike didn’t have time for Walter’s pedantics.

At least this statement was enough to still Walter preaching. “What are you talking about? By whom?”

“I don’t know yet, but we’ll find out.” Mike hung up on him, and made another few calls. By the time Jesse had made a few more rounds of the city and felt safe to say they weren’t being followed, they pulled into the laundry and descended into the underground meth lab.

By this time, Gus was there in one of his rare midday visits, observing Walter as he mixed chemicals together for the cook. When Mike and Jesse entered, both of them stopped what they were doing and looked up at them.

“I am hoping you have a good explanation for all of this.” Gus said mildly, as if his employees getting shot at were an irritating inconvenience.

Mike told the story with a few excited embellishments from Jesse. Walter’s brow furrowed, and he asked a lot of questions, while Gus stayed as still as stone for the entire story.

“I see.” He said simply when Mike finished. “And do you have any idea who these men were?”

“Well, I didn’t, but I made some calls on the way over here, and I’m pretty sure they work for some of the coke manufacturers up in the Ozarks. Billy Brighton’s crew.” Mike said.

Gus’ eyes, if possible, darkened at that statement, and he took a second to consider. “If what you say is true, then they know who the two of you are, or they will sooner or later. If I can reach out to Brighton, I may be able to defuse the situation. However, that will take time. The two of you should not be around during the interim. For your safety.”

Mike doubted that Gus cared one way or another about Jesse’s safety, but after working for the man for many years, he hoped that offered him an amount of, if not personal respect, at least professional respect.

“Where are we supposed to go? What, just camp out in a hotel or something for a week?” Jesse asked, looking unnerved at the prospect of being hunted.

Gus shook his head. “I’m afraid that would not be remote enough to ensure your safety. The two of you would have to go farther out of town, preferably away from any area where Brighton has contacts.”

“I can see if Saul has any ideas. This seems like his area of expertise.” Mike suggested.

Gus nodded his head. “You should go to his office immediately. Leave as soon as possible, in the next few hours. I will contact you when I have more news from Brighton.”

Mike nodded, and headed for the stairs, followed by Jesse. Walt watched them go.

When Mike and Jesse got to Saul’s office, he had his landline pressed to one ear and a cell phone held to his other ear. He held up a finger, and they closed the door behind them.

“No, I’m telling you, Terry, I wouldn’t be calling you if it wasn’t an emergency. You really think I’d want to be spending my weekend in a shitty house in the middle of nowhere? Trust me, buddy, I’ve got much better things to do with my time.” Saul barked into the landline. He pulled the cell phone away from his ear and typed a few numbers and then brought it back. “Would I like you to check what’s available? Yes, Terry, I think we’ve established that’s the reason I called you! Trust me, you’re not that great a conversationalist. I’ve played cards with you.”

Mike took a seat, knowing this could take a while, and Jesse walked off to the side, fiddling with a stack of papers on a filing cabinet. After a few more minutes of mixed insults and cajoling, Saul jotted down an address on a Post-It note on his desk and hung up both phones.

“Boy, the two of you have really gotten yourself into a mess this time, yeah?” Saul laughed, leaning back in his chair. “I mean, no offense, I kind of expected it from you, Jesse, but Mike, you never get anything wrong. Losing your touch, old man?”

Mike didn’t react to the insult, giving him a dead-eyed stare. “Are you done gloating, Saul, because we don’t have time for that."

Saul, ever the pacifist, held up his hands and laughed. "Mike, I'm telling you this as a friend. You don't have much of a sense of humor."

Saul slid the Post-It across the desk and Mike glanced at the address. He grimaced and tucked it into his pocket.

As Jesse and Mike walked out the door, Saul called after them. "Have fun in paradise, fellas! Try not to get shot, yeah?"

It was only after getting an hour out of the city that Mike told Jesse where they were going.

Jesse's face fell. "Are you serious, Mike? I've never even heard of this place."

"All the better. We're going to a safe house, not a spa, you know."

"Can we at least grab some food before we get there? I'm starving."

"Nope. We can't chance being spotted. There should be some emergency rations in the safe house." Mike said.

"Yeah, like canned beans or something." Jesse muttered, but he dropped the subject, propping his feet up on the dashboard. Mike chose to ignore his obvious attempt to get a rise out of him.

Six hours later, the sun was setting over the mountains and Mike pulled into the long dirt driveway to the safe house. Jesse had fallen asleep in the passenger seat, head lolling to the side and mouth hanging open.

The safe house finally came into view. It was a medium-sized upscale cabin, all on one level. The cabin was surrounded by trees, patchy snow littering the ground this high up. There weren't any neighbors for miles around. The nearest sign of civilization was a truck stop 30 miles away. They were almost completely secluded.

Mike shook Jesse awake, and Jesse got out and stretched. He looked shocked to see snow on the ground. “Yo, Mike, where the hell are we, like Minnesota? We drove way the hell out there!”

Mike flashed a wry smile. “We’re still in New Mexico. They don’t have mountains in Minnesota.”

Jesse gave him a suspicious look. “Are you sure? It’s fucking cold up there.”

Mike chose not to answer the question, hefting the few bags he had out of the trunk and heading for the door. Jesse followed him, and Mike dug the keys Saul had given him out of his pocket. The lock was hard to turn, seldom being used, but it eventually gave way, and the two of them set foot in the safe house where they were to live for the foreseeable future.

Jesse, for one, was not impressed. The front room was a small room with two sagging couches sitting in front of a television. The front room connected to the kitchen and a hallway led to the rest of the cabin. While Jesse went hunting for the best room and amenities, Mike focused on the more important job of checking lines of sight on the house and securing all the windows, just in case. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that Brighton’s men could find out where they were hiding. In any case, Mike had only survived this long in this line of work because he was careful.

The sound of Jesse rapturously enthusing about the water pressure in the bathroom floated in to Mike. Mike shook his head and checked behind the panel in the back of the fireplace. This was the safe place for any kind of weapons, emergency only.

Mike pushed the indent Saul had told him about and the panel slid to the side, revealing two pistols and four boxes of ammo. Not exactly an armory, but Mike could make do with less. Mike looked over at the hallway, listening to Jesse slamming doors and opening every cabinet in the place. He slid the panel closed again and moved a few logs into the fireplace. Jesse didn’t need to know about the pistols unless it was an actual emergency. Although Mike’s regard for Jesse’s competence had grown exponentially over the past few weeks, it would take a blind man to miss the way his hands started shaking whenever he had to handle a gun. It hadn’t been very long since Mike shut down the horrorshow in Jesse’s house and they started picking up dead drops.

Jesse came in to the room after Mike had straightened up. “There are only two bedrooms in this whole house, and I want the one on the west.”

Mike hefted his bag and started heading down the hallway. Jesse followed him. Mike could practically hear him bouncing on his heels. “What’s wrong with the east bedroom?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it exactly, it’s just…” Jesse trailed off as Mike opened the bedroom door. A bed, dresser, and rocking chair sat on the shag carpet. Those weren’t the things that drew the eye, however. Hanging on the wall across from the bed was a huge oil portrait of a duck. At least, that’s what Mike thought it was supposed to be. All he knew for sure was that it was big, yellow, and ugly.

He dropped his bag on the ground and made a face. “That’s certainly something.”

Jesse leaned against the wall. “Yeah, it’s like Satan’s oil painting or something. It’s like those bullshit paintings they put in hotels, where they’re supposed to be soothing, but instead remind you of sitting in a doctor’s office for, like, 8 hours.”

Mike reached up and pulled the painting off the wall, turned it around and placed it against the wall. “Problem solved.”

Jesse followed Mike back into the kitchen. The sun was almost below the horizon, and they flipped on lights as they went. Mike went digging in the pantry for any kind of food. He emerged holding two cans of soup. “Our choices are, chicken noodle or lentil.”

Jesse wrinkled his nose. “Is that seriously it, Mike?”

Mike pulled two pans out of the cupboard and worked on starting the stove. “It’s either this or starve.”

After they ate, Mike sat down in the living room and started on his book of crossword puzzles he brought with. Jesse flopped on the couch opposite him and figured out how to turn on the television. To his dismay, static followed him from channel to channel. There was no reception.

Mike tried to work on his crossword puzzles, but Jesse’s fidgeting was making it hard to concentrate. Jesse sat picking at the couch thread for a while and then lit up a cigarette. A whole five minutes was spent looking for an ashtray he could use, and then he was back.

“What do you get out of those anyway?” Jesse asked finally, turning his attention on Mike.

“Passes the time.” Mike said mildly, completing another row.

“Yeah, and you need something to keep your old mind sharp, right?” Jesse grinned as Mike looked up and gave him a look that he had used on others before killing them.

“My mind is sharp enough to bring something to entertain myself on our indefinite vacation.” Mike turned back to his crossword and Jesse spent the next fifteen pacing around the living room and apparently touching everything on the shelves, although he missed the fireplace compartment entirely.

Eventually, Jesse sighed and disappeared back down the hall to his room, coming back slinging his jacket over his shoulder. He headed to the front door and Mike put down his crossword puzzle.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Well, considering there’s no cable and you’re the worst housemate in the world, I’m gonna take a walk.” Jesse said.

“You can’t go walking around out here. We’re in hiding.” Mike said.

“There’s literally nobody around here for miles. I don’t think it’s possible to be more bored, man.” Jesse crossed his arms.

“You know how most people in witness protection get caught or killed?” Mike asked.

Jesse rolled his eyes and shook his head. “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“By not doing what they were told. By going out to the grocery store while they were under siege, making phone calls to old friends. By taking a walk when they should have stayed inside the house.” Mike growled. He would have thought that this concept would have been pretty obvious, but he was worried about the kid’s lack of concern over his own survival.

Jesse managed to look both annoyed and righteously angry at the same time. He looked like he was going to argue, but eventually gave up. He knew Mike was right. “Fine. Then I’m going to bed.”

Jesse woke up the next morning and stared at the ceiling. If last night was any indicator, this extended hideout would be more boring than Mr. White’s chemistry class.

He stumbled to the kitchen in search for coffee. The coffee maker on the counter looked 30 years old at least, and Jesse was struggling with the controls when the front door opened and Mike came back, stomping snow off his shoes.

“Oh, so you can go walking around, but I can’t be trusted to go outside, is that it?” Jesse bitched as Mike sat down at the kitchen table with his burner phone.

“I was checking the perimeter to make sure nobody had followed us here, Jesse. And while you have many varied skills, keeping out of sight and checking perimeters is not one of them.” Mike put the battery into his phone and waited for it to start up.

Jesse finally figured out the coffee maker and sat down next to Mike. “Please tell me you got some movies or something to do today. Hell, even a board game.”

“I didn’t. But, let’s see what Gus has to say. Maybe we overreacted and we can head back to Albuquerque.” Mike dialed the number and turned it on speakerphone for Jesse’s benefit.

“God, I hope so.” Jesse muttered.

The phone rang twice and Gus’s calm voice came over the line. “Did you find the safe house all right?”

“Sure did. All’s good on this end, but we need to know what the situation with Billy Brighton’s crew is.” Mike said.

Gus sighed, and Jesse’s stomach dropped. “Unfortunately, my preliminary discussion with Brighton was not promising. Our business relationship is not as amiable as I had hoped.”

Mike took the bad news in stride. “How much longer will it be?”

“It will likely be at least a week, perhaps more. Check back in a few days for an update.” Gus said.

Jesse groaned and slid back in his chair, and Mike signed off, taking the battery out of his phone again. “Looks like we’re stuck here for a while, kid.”

That day followed like last night, Mike reading and Jesse fidgeting. After a few hours of this, it became difficult to ignore him. Mike glanced up at Jesse. He had found a deck of cards somewhere, and was trying to stack a halfhearted house of cards. His hands were shaking just enough to send the cards to the table again and again. Jesse’s shifting and fidgeting had taken on a slightly desperate edge, and Mike thought of his neverending house party of a few weeks ago.

Mike had killed his fair share of people during the course of doing his job, and he wouldn’t exactly say it was easy, but it didn’t really bother him anymore. Most of the people in this line of business, Walter included, wouldn’t blink too much over what needed to be done. Jesse was different.

Taking pity on Jesse, Mike took off his reading glasses and set down his crossword. “All right, kid. You’ve worn me down.”

Jesse looked up, the relief plain on his face. “We can actually go to town? That’s the best thing you’ve said all day, Mike.”

Mike held up one finger. “We can go to town, on a few conditions.”

Jesse started to roll his eyes, but reined it in at the last second. “What conditions?”

“First of all, we’re going in, getting some food and maybe a movie or two, and then getting out. No drawing attention to ourselves, no extended visit. Got it?” Jesse nodded vigorously, and Mike continued. “Second of all, this is a risky operation. I have significantly more experience with risky situations. That means, the second, and I mean the second I get wind of the situation going south, we are out of there. No arguments, no negotiations. We’re only doing this if you promise me that you’ll listen to what I have to say and follow my instructions.”

Jesse made a face, and shrugged noncommittally. This wasn’t good enough for Mike.

“Jesse. Are these terms agreeable to you?”

“Yeah, fine. Whatever.” Jesse grumbled. “Jesus, man, you don’t have to treat me like I’m an idiot.”

“I just need to know that you’re taking this seriously.” Mike said, softening his tone a little bit.

“I am taking this serious, Mike! Look, I know you and Gus think I’m stupid, but when the situation is serious, I can handle it. Guys want to kill us, I know to take that serious.” Jesse folded his arms and glared at Mike defiantly.

“I don’t think you’re stupid, Jesse. You just need to pay more attention to your surroundings.” Mike said. Jesse looked taken aback, and Mike got to his feet to get his coat.

Within an hour, the two of them had set out for town, the snow above beginning to fall harder and covering their tracks.

Chapter Text

After driving an hour out of their way, Mike and Jesse finally made it to a small town with one gas station, one convenience store, and three liquor stores. Jesse thumbed at Liquor Store Number 1 as they drove by and Mike grunted, which meant ‘not a chance’. Jesse sighed but didn’t say anything.

Mike pulled up to the one convenience store in town and shut off the car. The engine popped and hissed as it cooled off in the snowy air. Jesse nearly bounded out of the car in excitement, and Mike followed more slowly.

Jesse made a beeline directly for the snack aisle, and Mike took a moment at the door to look at the cashier, for the moment not a threat, and the exits. There were no other customers, which was good, because it decreased the number of people who would see and possibly remember them, but could possibly be a bad thing, because they were the only people the cashier was now focusing on.

Jesse came back with an armful of chips and candy, grinning in triumph. Mike looked down at the pile of unhealthy food.

“I have one word, kid. Vegetables.”

Jesse nodded, and maneuvered one arm into the pile of stuff to pull out a frozen package of peas. “I got you covered, Mike.”

Mike huffed shortly, which in Mike-Speak is almost a term of endearment. He decided to do the rest of his shopping himself, and both he and Jesse picked up some movies and dumped them on the desk for the clerk. He started to ring them up, but kept looking up at them strangely.

Jesse was about to ask him what his problem was, but glanced over at Mike first to test out the waters. Mike was studiously ignoring the clerk and examining the magazine rack next to the counter. Jesse changed his mind, deciding to follow Mike’s lead. Mike was like the most badass guy he knew, and if Mike thought it wasn’t the time for threatening people, he might be right.

They hopped back into the car and drove out of town and back on the long way back to their cabin.

“You notice how I didn’t fuck up back there? Pretty amazing, don’t you think? It’s like, maybe I actually know what I’m doing.” Jesse said, digging through the bags for the cigarettes he bought.

Mike half-glanced over at him. “Don’t brag, Jesse. It’s unbecoming.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just saying.” Jesse muttered. A few minutes went by, and Jesse decided to bring something up. “Can I ask you a question?”

Mike said nothing, which Jesse took to mean yes. “How do you pull this whole… thing off?”

“What thing is that?” Mike asked, pulling off the main highway onto a dirt road which was currently covered in ice and snow.

Jesse waved a hand in Mike’s direction as explanation. “Your whole… ‘Don’t Fuck With Me, Because I’ll Kill You’ thing.”

Mike’s lips quirked in amusement. “It’s not exactly an act.”

Jesse nodded, his head bobbing up and down. “Yeah, but how do you get people to, I don’t know, take you seriously?”

Mike glanced over at Jesse. He seemed to be genuinely asking. “Jesse, I got to where I am today doing a lot of stuff that I don’t think you want to do. My advice is stop trying to figure out how to be me. I’m not that great a person to be. You’re doing fine, kid.”

Jesse looked at Mike for a moment longer, and then glanced out the window. Mike said he was doing fine, but he wasn’t so sure about that. Mr. White was still riding his ass about going after Gus, and, fine, he was lying about seeing Gus, but Mr. White just didn’t get it. Mr. White thought Gus was just going to waste them the first chance he got, but he hadn’t seen Gus lately, and Jesse had. Gus wasn’t some crazy nut like Tuco, ready to kill them at the first opportunity. Sure, he was pissed after, well, after Gale, but that didn’t mean he wanted to kill them. When Jesse saw Gus at the diner, what he and Mike had said had stuck with him, about seeing things in people, about seeing things in him.

Nobody had ever really seen anything in Jesse. Sure, Mr. White had saved his life and was his business partner and all, 50/50 like Jesse always said. But lately, Mr. White was just kind of a dick. He’d always been a dick, but he was like, an ultra dick lately, about everything, and Jesse was kind of sick of it. He knew he owed Mr. White, but that didn’t mean he had to be such an asshole all the time.

And like, Mike was super old and scary and had probably killed like, three people this week, but at least he never called Jesse an idiot. Especially after he saved the stash from those robbers, Jesse kind of thought that maybe he could actually be useful to Mike. The dude was like a brick wall, but sometimes Jesse thought Mike might even approve of him. Maybe. If only Jesse could get Mr. White to see all this, then maybe they could bring the pressure level down, like 50 notches, but Mr. White would never listen to what he had to say on the subject. He’d already tried.

By the time they made it back to the cabin, Jesse had eaten through at least three quarters of a bag of Funyuns, and as he helped Mike carry all the bags inside, he sifted through the movies that Mike had chosen.

“Mike, what the hell are these?” Jesse asked incredulously, pulling out a stack of three Meryl Streep movies.

Mike glanced over from the kitchen where he was putting food away. “Those are movies to watch.”

Jesse made a face. “Yeah, I can see that, Mike, but Sophie’s Choice? What the hell, man. These are the kinds of movies my parents like.”

“Then your parents have good taste in movies. Have you ever even seen them?” Mike said.

“No, but-”

“Then you can’t talk. I’m sure you’ve picked equally horrific movies from my point of view.” Mike said, pulling his boots off.

Jesse dumped the stack of movies on the coffee table. “Uh, well, Star Wars is a classic, so you’re wrong about one thing.”

Mike picked up the DVD case and considered it for a moment. “I think I took my son David to see this once. It didn’t catch my interest.”

Jesse’s jaw dropped open. “It didn’t catch your interest? Mike, come on! It’s the best. You’re gonna like it this time, I promise.”

“Doubt it.” Mike grunted.

Jesse took charge of making dinner, and half an hour later, they were sitting down to slightly crunchy noodles and overcooked sauce.

Jesse spent about ten minutes trying to work the ancient DVD player. For a while, it was dubious whether they would actually manage to turn the thing on, but then the blasting sound of the studio’s logo came on. Jesse got back onto the couch and pumped a fist in triumph.

Mike sat through the first half hour of Star Wars with a half-amused look on his face. He hadn’t quite understood the appeal when David was a kid, and it looked like he was still too old to appreciate it. Jesse was very invested in the movie, making excited noises whenever something exploded on screen. He was actually getting a little too invested, if you asked Mike, but he didn’t say anything. It seemed like genuine enthusiasm as opposed to the restless jittering from the past few weeks of a junkie going through withdrawal. God knew the kid could use a little break.

After a very long two hours, the credits rolled, and Jesse looked to Mike for some kind of approval.

“Well?” He demanded. “Best movie ever, right?”

“There’s a long distance between the best movie ever and this one.” Mike noted.

“But it was pretty good, right?” Jesse nudged a little bit.

Mike shrugged. “I don’t feel like two hours of my life have been wasted, I’ll give you that much.”

Jesse grinned. “I’ll take it! That’s practically a shining endorsement coming from you.”

Two movies later, they had cycled over into one of Mike’s movies. Jesse was notably less enthused about Sophie’s Choice than he had been about Star Wars. Mike had seen this one a few times, but it never failed to interest him. He supposed it was probably a little surprising that this was the kind of movie a hardened criminal would like, but Mike had never really cared about things like that.

Jesse glanced over at Mike toward the end of the movie. Sophie’s Choice was significantly more serious than Star Wars and Jesse wasn’t incredibly jazzed for it.

“Why do you like this movie?” Jesse asked Mike. “Don’t you think it’s kinda… depressing?”

Mike shrugged. “It’s well-written, well-made. I appreciate craft. I’m not a stranger to the moral quandaries the film presents.”

Jesse laughed. “The moral what? You never had to decide which of your kids to send off to the Nazis.”

“No, but I have a granddaughter, and I’m employed in a very dangerous line of business.” Mike said simply.

Jesse looked back at the television screen at that and considered that point, quiet.

“Do you think we’re bad people?” Jesse asked. He had pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them. “For, like, doing what we do, and still having friends? Girlfriends?”

The movie ended, and the credits started to roll. “You can’t totally isolate yourself, Jesse.”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t it keep people safe?” Jesse said. He wasn’t looking at Mike, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“Probably.” Jesse looked at Mike in surprise. He had been expecting some kind of justification or assurance. That was usually what Mr. White did when he questioned the safety of their business. “What you have to do is decide when the reward isn’t worth the risk anymore. Nobody’s keeping you in this business, Jesse. You’re responsible for your own actions.”

Jesse was looking right at Mike now, gaze worried. Jesus, he looked so young. Mike tried to keep a lid on that kind of paternal instinct when it came to Jesse, because he wasn’t a child, he was in fact an unreliable junkie, who along with his egotistical partner posed the threat of jeopardizing Fring’s business and Mike’s own livelihood. But it was clear in moments like these how much this line of work didn’t suit Jesse. Mike couldn’t help that instinct to drive him to another fucking state, get him a hot meal and a legitimate job. It was the soft side in him.

Mike had the sense that if it weren’t for Walter, Jesse would still be a dime-a-dozen useless street dealer with a couple thousand bucks to his name. Maybe he’d be better off that way. Mike could see that Walter White sure wasn’t a good influence on the kid.

Jesse started the next movie, and the two of them sunk into a companionable silence. Jesse dozed off for a while, and then woke up towards the end of the movie. He glanced over at Mike, who was completely engaged in the movie. He looked a little more moved than his usual inscrutable self.

“Dude, are you crying?” Jesse grinned, sitting up from his slumped position.

This broke Mike’s concentration, and he glanced over at Jesse, schooling his expression into the patented Mike Ehrmantraut Dead-Eyed Stare. “Not a chance.”

“You totally were! So you do have a soul! Man, I was starting to wonder.” Jesse clapped, doubling over and laughing at Mike’s expression.

“I was appreciating the movie.” Mike said.

“Yeah, sure, sure. I know what you were really doing.” Jesse grinned.

Mike shook his head, letting Jesse laugh it out. Finally, the last movie ended, and Mike glanced at his watch. “This is much later than a man of my age should go to bed, so I’m heading down. Good night.”

“Night!” Jesse watched him go. He knew he should get up and go back to his own room, but he felt his eyes growing heavy, and before he knew it he was dropping off into sleep.

The door.

Gale’s door floated into view. There was no walls or floor, just the door, the hissing sound of a teapot emanating from the cracks.

Gale’s hovered in front of him, terrified, trembling.

You don’t have to do this, he’s saying. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to do this you don’t you don’t you don’t.

But he does. He knows he does, he just can’t remember why right now.

Gale’s head rocks back with the force of the gunshot once, twice. Over and over again, repeated in a loop like a stuck DVD.

He can feel his own head splitting alongside Gale’s. He knows he deserves this.

“Jesse. Jesse!” Mike’s voice jolts Jesse out of sleep, and Jesse’s eyes fly open, glaring up at Mike blearily.

“Huh?” Jesse asks, still sunk in sleep.

Mike looks down at him, and he almost looks worried. “You were kind of moving around, making noises in your sleep.”

“Oh, fuck!” Jesse sits up and runs his hands over his face. He has a splitting headache. Before Mike can say anything else, Jesse goes down the hallway and locks the bathroom door.

He doesn’t really need to freak out in front of Mike. The guy’s a pro, and Jesse doesn’t want to ruin what little good will he’d gotten the past couple weeks from being actually capable. Not that Mike thinks he’s anything but a reckless junkie probably.

After Jesse took a long, hot shower, he comes back into the kitchen, where Mike had rustled up some breakfast. To Jesse’s relief, Mike doesn’t say anything, he just lays a plate of eggs and toast in front of him and tells him to eat.

Maybe spending the a couple more days here with Mike won’t be the worst after all.

Chapter Text

For the next two days, Mike and Jesse existed in an equilibrium. Mike did his crossword puzzles and read his books, and Jesse found creative ways of making disgusting dinners out of what they had bought from the convenience store.

Although it was an irritating inconvenience, Mike had to admit it was nice to have a little bit of a break once in a while. He didn’t really get weekends and holidays off, so he counted this as a long overdue vacation. As time went on, Jesse did get less hectic. He found ways to amuse himself, and Mike even found him reading one of Mike’s books on their fourth day there. The shadows under his eyes evened themselves out, and Mike thought that Jesse even looked healthier than he had in weeks.

On the fifth day, Mike was reading his book and Jesse was sitting at the table playing Solitaire when there was a knock at the door.

For a moment, neither of them knew what to do. They had been on their own for so long and another person entering into their space was out of the bounds of possibility. Mike got up and flicked the curtains aside. There was a man in a jacket and baseball cap standing outside, rocking back and forth on his heels. Mike couldn’t see his full face. He didn’t seem to be armed, but that didn’t mean anything. He could pull out a pistol the second Mike opened the door.

Mike walked over to the front door, putting a hand on the doorknob. He made sure his pistol was in his waistband, and prepared to open the door. There was a car outside, so the man would know that somebody was home. It would look suspicious not to answer.

The man looked around when Mike answered the front door.

“Can I help you?” Mike asked, in as pleasant a tone of voice as he could muster up.

The guy looked around, and plastered a smile on his face that was all teeth. Mike knew it wasn’t genuine in the slightest. “Hey there. I think you were one of the guys who stopped into my store the other day.”

Alarm bells went off in Mike’s mind. Now that he was getting a look at the guy, it was obvious that this was the man who ran the convenience store. It was not a good sign that he was on their doorstep now. “I think you have the wrong guy.”

The man shook his head. “No, I definitely recognize you. I just came by, because I found this in my store when I was closing up the other day.” The man pulled something out of his pocket, and Mike tensed, but it was only a watch, albeit a very expensive watch.

“This thing must cost at least seven hundred dollars, and I was sure that whoever left it there must really want it back.” The man was searching Mike’s face for something, and Mike kept it totally still. Jesse stood behind Mike, chewing his lip in worry.

“It’s not mine, you have the wrong guy.” Mike said, moving to shut the door.

“Oh, well, what about the guy you were with?” The clerk asked, pushing the door open a bit to reveal Jesse standing inside the cabin. “This yours?”

Jesse tried to adopt a casual attitude. “Not mine, yo.”

The guy took the opportunity to look at the interior of the cabin, and Mike slowly closed the door more, getting between him and the inside of the cabin. “It’s neither of ours. You might want to try some of the other houses.”

The guy was nodding, but he had already slipped the watch back into his pocket. He wasn’t even that put out. “Sure, sure. Sorry to bother you guys. Must belong to somebody else passing through.”

Mike nodded, and the clerk turned around and got back into his car. Mike stood on the porch and watched the clerk reverse and pull out of the driveway, going slowly back out to the road and turning left. To Mike’s concern, left was not the way back to the convenience store where he worked.

Once he was gone, Mike went back inside, locking the door. Jesse was pacing, looking out the window and coming over to Mike.

“Uh, Mike, what the hell was that? Who was that guy? I thought he was just the convenience store clerk.”

“Apparently not.” Mike grunted, taking a seat and grabbing his phone off the coffee table. “I think we might want to find a new hiding spot.”

“Uh, yeah.” Jesse said breathlessly. He couldn’t stay still while Mike put his phone together. Once it started up, he looked at the signal bars at the top left of his screen.

“I only have one bar.” Mike said, dialing Gus’ number, and putting the phone up to his ear. The number rung once, and then disconnected abruptly. Mike tried again, but the number didn’t even go through that time. “I don’t have enough of a signal out here.”

“Shit.” Jesse said. “Well, we should, like, get out of here, don’t you think? Like, that guy is gonna come back, and he’s gonna have friends.”

“He certainly will.” Mike said, getting to his feet with difficulty. “Go, get your stuff. We should leave right now.”

Within five minutes, the two of them were packed and walking out the door. Jesse led the way to their car, which was still parked half in a snowbank out front. Jesse’s eyes were sharper, and so he saw the problem before Mike did. He slowed down and turned back to Mike, eyebrows furrowed.

“Fuck, Mike, look at that.” He said. Mike walked around Jesse and saw the deep slashes in their tires. They wouldn’t be going anywhere by car. He knelt down to take a closer look and see if there was some way they could salvage the ride, but there was no chance. They wouldn’t get more than five miles on these tires, and then they’d be stranded.

“What are we going to do, Mike?” Jesse sounded panicked, and he paced circles around Mike in the snow. “We gotta, like, take off on foot or something. We can just hike through the woods or something. That guy will be back, and then they’ll, like, shoot us.”

Mike clenched his fist. When it was really cold, that helped his arthritic fingers get warmed up. “We can’t go off into the woods. The sun will be setting soon, and then the temperature will plummet into the negative figures. Not to mention the nearest outpost of civilization is at least 5 hours walking. And that’s an optimistic figure.”

Jesse was aghast. “Well, we can’t just wait around for those dudes to come back and shoot us!”

“No, we certainly can’t. But we have no chance walking off into the snow. That’s an almost certain death sentence.” Mike said, heading back to the house. Jesse trailed behind him, voicing his disagreement with Mike’s decision.

Mike turned around to face Jesse. “Look, we can’t go running off into the cold. We’ll die. That leaves us only one option. I’ll keep trying to call Gus, but we can’t count on him coming to help us anytime soon. That means we have to handle this ourselves.”

“Handle this ourselves?” Jesse asked. “You mean, like, kill them?” He sounded incredulous, and he turned a little pale at the thought.

Mike nodded. “Unless you’d rather get killed, that’s about our only option.”

Jesse followed Mike back into the cabin, where they dumped their bags on the ground. “Okay, but how are we gonna do that exactly? Because, you have the only gun, and I don’t really have any ninja skills I’ve been hiding away, and unless you’re not as old as you look and are a black belt, I don’t know if we can take more than, like, a couple Girl Scouts. Maybe a middle-school teacher or something.”

Mike walked over and opened the safe that had the guns for emergencies. “These were supposed to be a secret unless there was an emergency. I think this qualifies as an emergency.”

Jesse gaped at the hidden compartment. “Yo, you weren’t gonna tell me about this?”

“You didn’t need to know.” Mike said. “Now you do.”

Some of the panic left Jesse’s eyes and he nodded. “Uh, okay, so batten down the hatches and wait for those guys to come back.”

Mike pulled out all the ammo they had. “There’s just one thing we have to do first. I need to teach you how to shoot.”

Jesse looked offended at the implication. “Mike, I know how to shoot. Give me some credit.”

“You do not know how to shoot. You know how to pull the trigger in the general direction of a target, but that’s not the same thing as being a good shot. Come on.” Mike picked up their scant armory and Jesse followed him out the back door, trying to reaffirm his marksmanship, until they got to the back yard.

Mike grabbed some of the soup cans they had been eating out of, and walked far out toward the tree line, setting up a makeshift shooting range.

Jesse watched him come back. He squinted into the sunlight, a hand held up to shield his eyes. Mike took one of the pistols from the hiding space and checked to make sure it was unloaded. Then he handed it to Jesse.

“What, I don’t even get to practice with a loaded gun?” Jesse asked snarkily, taking the gun and feeling the weight in his hands.

“You have to learn how to hold it properly before you learn how to shoot it.” Mike said. “And if you keep mouthing off, I’m going to let you defend yourself with a broken broom handle.”

“All right, fine.” Jesse said. “You need to learn how to have a sense of humor.”

Mike stepped closer, moving Jesse’s hands until they were positioned correctly. “Okay, now extend your arms and look at your target.”

Jesse extended one arm straight. The gun was heavy even with no ammunition, and it started to tilt, so he turned it to the side. It was easier to hold.

Mike chuckled, shaking his head. He grabbed Jesse’s hand and brought it straight again. “Not a chance. It has to be straight up and down or your shot will go wild. Defeats the purpose of even aiming. If you need extra support, clasp your other hand under your wrist.”

Jesse did this, and everything felt much more level.

“Okay, now aim at your target.” Mike said, standing to the side and watching Jesse’s form.

Jesse did, closing one eye to focus more on the soup can in the distance.

“If you close one eye, your shot won’t even be close to your target. You have to keep both eyes open.” Mike said.

Jesse groaned, dropping his hands. “God, Mike, why do you have to be such a hardass about everything. Can’t I just shoot the gun already?”

“No, because we have limited ammo, and I want to make sure that you actually hit something.”

“Oh, I’ll hit something, alright.” Jesse muttered under his breath, bringing his hands back up to aim at the soup cans.

Mike smiled despite himself. Jesse reminded him of David when he was going off to college, disagreeing with everything Mike said just because Mike was the one who said it.

“Is this good?” Jesse asked, adjusting his stance like Mike told him.

“That’s good, Jesse. Now load your piece, and let’s see how you do with ammo.” Mike said, handing Jesse a box. Jesse loaded the pistol with ammo. Mike was impressed to see he didn’t fumble any of it, smoothly sliding the cartridge into place.

“Now, adjust for the extra weight and aim again. Anticipate the recoil, and when you’re ready, take a shot.” Mike said. He stood back and watched Jesse concentrate. After getting Mike’s pointers, he took it all to heart, staying still and aiming for a few seconds. In the space of a heartbeat, Jesse pulled the trigger, and the leftmost can flew into the air, a bullet hole straight through it.

“Yeah, bitch!” Jesse shouted, jumping up in the air. “Mike, did you see that? Right through the middle! Ohh, yeah!”

Mike shook his head fondly, watching Jesse jump around and celebrate for a few more seconds. “Okay, kid, that was a great shot. Let’s try a couple more and then get back inside.”

“You better watch yourself, old man. I’m getting good, I’m coming for your job. You’ll be out of business.” Jesse said, laughing.

“Yeah, call me in 20 years or so, and then I’ll be worried.” Mike said.

Jesse shot a few more times, and he only missed two shots, so Mike wasn’t worried. Of course, shooting cans and shooting people were two very different things, and Mike saw the nervous look on Jesse’s face on the last few shots. He would bet Jesse was remembering Gale. Moving targets were also a lot harder to hit, but Mike let Jesse have his victory. If it came down to self-defense, Mike could only hope that Jesse would do what had to be done.

They got back inside, and Jesse helped Mike cart a few boxes from the basement up to pile in front of the windows and door. They piled their three guns and ammo on the coffee table. Mike had Jesse sit on the couch and watch the front, while he took a chair and sat at the other end of the living room at an angle so he could see the back door.

“My guess is they’ll be coming through the back, or at least approach the house from the back side. They know we’re expecting them, so they’ll probably be careful.” Mike said.

Jesse looked nervous. That was good, it meant he had a survival instinct.

There was a long companionable silence. Jesse was spinning the gun around on the table, and he had started fidgeting again. This went on until Mike figured this was as good a time as any to ask. “So, Jesse, how are you doing?”

Jesse turned around from his watch. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, are you doing okay?”

Jesse shrugged. “Yeah, why?”

“Because when your life depends on someone else, it’s good to know their state of mind.” Mike said. Jesse could see that he was sincere, and he considered for a moment.

“I just, I don’t get it. How you and Mr. White just do this stuff, and it doesn’t affect you at all.” Jesse said.

“I wouldn’t say it doesn’t affect me at all.” Mike said.

Jesse waved a hand. “Yeah, but you can’t say you have a normal reaction to stuff like this. I mean, there are dudes coming to kill us, and you’re totally calm. Just another day on the job.”

Mike considered for a moment. “Let me ask you a question. Why did you do it?”

“Why did I do what?”

“Why did you shoot Gale?” Mike asked. Jesse’s eyes went dark and he turned his back on Mike, not responding. Mike knew the answer to the question, but wanted to hear how Jesse justified it to himself.

Jesse didn’t answer for so long that Mike thought he wasn’t going to continue the conversation. Finally, he answered. “It was to save our lives. Gus was going to kill us. I had to.” He sounded like he was reciting a statement he had heard many times before from somebody else. Mike was pretty sure who that somebody else was.

“That sounds like Walter’s reasoning. Why did you do it?” Mike asked him. Jesse still didn’t face him, looking out the window at the gathering dusk.

“Mr. White saved my life.” Jesse’s voice sounded like someone trying to convince themselves of something they didn’t really believe.

“So you did it for Walter.” Mike said. “I don’t know about you, Jesse, but it seems to me Walter doesn’t appreciate the gravity of what you did for him.”

At this, Jesse was silent. “Maybe you’re not the one who isn’t reacting normally, kid.” Mike said. He could only hope that something he was saying would sink in. It would be a little hypocritical of him to give Jesse advice, but it didn’t look like he was getting it anywhere else. God, he was getting soft.

He watched Jesse for a while longer. He seemed to be ignoring Mike, looking out the window and watching the line of sight. It was at times like this that Mike saw the real danger posed by Walter. He wasn’t just bringing himself down, he was dragging Jesse with him. At least now there was a moment of peace for Jesse to think things through. Mike let him.

Chapter Text

Jesse quickly found out that sitting around waiting for someone to come kill you wasn’t as exciting as it sounded. Sure, for the first couple hours, it seemed like every single movement out the window was a group of assassins. Every time, Jesse would tense up and his hand would inch towards the pistol sitting on the coffee table. When he found out it was actually just an animal or a car passing out by the road, he’d relax.

Once the stakeout stretched into its fourth hour, however, Jesse started to lose his sense of urgency. When they had long stakeouts like this in movies, usually something had happened by now. He’d already gotten a little acclimated to sitting around for hours during his runs with Mike, but none of them had lasted this long.

Jesse glanced over, but Mike didn’t seem to be having the same problem. He was looking serenely out the back window at the yard. It was now late afternoon, but he didn’t seem to be losing any steam. “Yo, Mike, don’t you think they should have come by now?” Jesse asked, checking the front again.

“If I were them, I’d wait until nighttime. That way, it’ll be harder for us to see them coming.” Mike grunted.

“Maybe Gus cooled them down by now.” Jesse said nervously. “I mean, it’s been hours. Maybe he finally got through to them and they changed their minds.”

Mike shook his head. “I seriously doubt it. You should never pin your chances on false hope. That’s a good way to get killed.”

Jesse nodded, turning around and returning to the vigil. The shadows lengthened into nightfall, and the nervousness started to ebb back. Mike eventually grunted and got to his feet. “Alright, I have to go to the bathroom for a moment. Watch the front and the back for me, would you?”

Jesse didn’t think that was a good idea, but he kept watch anyway. He tried craning his neck one way and then the other way until Mike came back in a few minutes. Mike smiled wryly at the sight of Jesse craning around but didn’t say anything.

“How the hell do you do this kinda stuff all by yourself?” Jesse asked. “I’m getting, like, whiplash and I’ve only been doing this for a couple hours.”

Mike considered that for a second. “You get a certain amount of patience when you get older. It becomes easier to just sit for hours. You have to work at the vigilance part, however.”

Jesse shuddered. “God, I’d hate sitting around staring at people’s houses or whatever all day every day.”

“Well, that’s not all there is to the job, but I think even you could get good at it with some practice.” Mike said.

Jesse pretended to be offended. “What do you mean, even me?”

Mike didn’t answer, just looked pointedly at Jesse, whose leg was currently jiggling up and down in nerves. Jesse stopped moving his leg and looked embarrassed.

“Yeah, well at least I have faster reflexes than you, old man.” Jesse shot back.

Mike laughed. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. Just wait, I’d be able to take a guy down before you even had time to blink.” Jesse said.

Mike smiled, shaking his head and returning to his watch. “I’ll have to take your word for it, Jesse.”

Although the sun had set and darkness had fallen around the cabin, there still wasn’t any sign of movement from outside. Eventually, the moon rose on their little patch of the world. The moon combined with the white snow made it a little easier to see anyone trying to sneak up on the house, but as midnight rolled around, the entire area was completely silent.

Jesse yawned for the fifth time and turned around again. “Maybe we were wrong. Maybe that dude didn’t work for Billy Brighton. Maybe he was just a weird guy that likes to stalk his customers.”

“Possible, but not likely.” Mike said. “Although, I would have bet that they would have shown up already if they were going to.”

“Does that mean we’re in the clear?” Jesse asked hopefully.

Mike grunted noncommittally and kept looking out the window. “No, but it does mean that you could probably rest a little if you needed it.”

Jesse thought longingly of his bed in the other room, but dissuaded himself. “Nah, man. I’m not abandoning you out here. I mean, those guys could still show up. I’ll stay right here.”

Mike nodded, impressed. He realized he was proud of Jesse. Although he was a little twitchy and wouldn’t stop complaining, he had been keeping watch for hours and was still willing to keep going even when he got an out.

Once 3 AM rolled around, Jesse’s noble intentions had lapsed, and despite his best effort, he was soon fast asleep on the couch, head lolling onto the backrest. Mike even felt his eyes drooping closed and he stood up to get his blood moving and stay awake.

Mike decided to make some coffee to keep up his energy. He glanced over at Jesse asleep on the couch. He just always looked so tired and exhausted, and some sleep would probably do him some good. Mike was surprised by the protective instinct that rose over him. That was new. When they started all these dead drops, Mike went along with it because it’s what Gus wanted, but he hadn’t liked it. Somewhere along the way, that had changed. He realized he actually enjoyed spending time with Jesse, and more than that, he was concerned for the kid’s well-being.

The caffeine boost helped Mike stay awake for the next few hours, and slowly, the sunlight began to leech across the snowy landscape outside to brighten the area.

When they came, it was only luck that gave Mike a heads-up. He was glancing out the front window when he saw the glint of something shiny off in the snow far away. He had been staring out this window for hours and had familiarized himself with the landscape, and that glint was sticking out like a sore thumb. It could only be one thing.

“Jesse. Get up. We have company.” Mike shook Jesse’s shoulder and he shot out of sleep with a gasp. He got his bearings quickly and stood up, holding the pistol.

The glint appeared again and Jesse saw it this time. “Oh shit, is that them?”

Mike nodded. “They must be hiding pretty well. I can’t see anything, but that glint must be coming off a weapon of some sort. They’re trying to sneak up on us.”

Jesse held his pistol nervously, shifting from one foot to the other, waiting for something to happen. “Are they coming out or what?”

“They’re probably scoping us out before they make their move.” Mike added.

Mike and Jesse were putting so much attention into watching the front that they completely forgot to pay attention to the back door. Before they could do so much as blink, someone kicked the flimsy back door open with a tremendous bang.

“Fuck!” Jesse screamed, and he and Mike hit the floor, crouching behind the couch as two shotgun blasts ripped across the living room to shatter the window.

“We were beginning to wonder if there was anybody in here!” A jubilant voice shouted from the back kitchen. “We thought you guys had high-tailed it out of here.”

Mike shuffled as much as he could to peek around the other side of the couch. Three men were standing in the kitchen. All of them were armed.

“Come on out!” The first man shouted. He was smiling. He knew he had them trapped. “Let’s make this as short and painless as possible, shall we?”

Jesse was looking over at Mike, wondering what to do, but Mike didn’t answer. He aimed carefully and shot the man standing on the left of the three. He dropped without a sound and the other two wheeled around and sought cover behind the walls of the kitchen.

Mike stood up and let off a few more shots for good measure. “Put your guns down and I won’t kill any of the rest of you!” Mike called across the room.

The first man laughed but didn’t come out from behind the wall. Mike let off three more shots and walked right up to the other side of the kitchen wall. He swung around the corner and shot the second of the men, his face surprised as he died. However, in the time it took him to shoot that man, the one who kept talking pistol-whipped Mike on the back, dropping him to the ground. He grabbed Mike’s gun out of his hand before he could do anything.

The man moved into the open and trained his gun on Mike, who was on the ground. Mike looked for an opening, but the man had the advantage.

“Now, I think we could all benefit from a little chat, don’t you? Let’s open up a dialogue, shall we? My name is Derek, and you two are the shitstains I’ve been sent to kill. But this doesn’t have to get nasty. Come on out, Jesse Pinkman. I know you’re behind the couch.”

Jesse didn’t move, and Derek’s eyes narrowed. “Come out from behind the couch, or I’m shooting your friend in the head right now.”

Jesse got up from behind the couch, holding the pistol on Derek. His eyes were wide, but his hands were steady, Mike was pleased to see.

“Good, now put your gun down.” Derek said pleasantly.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t think so.” Jesse said, flicking his eyes down to meet Mike’s every couple seconds. He clearly didn’t know what to do. Mike could have thought of six different moves to make if he were in Jesse’s shoes, but he couldn’t exactly shout it across the room with Derek standing above him.

Derek clicked the safety off his pistol menacingly, but Jesse wasn’t moved. “Why don’t you put your gun down?” He asked, injecting a little defiance into his tone.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “I’m the one with the gun trained on your friend here.”

Jesse adjusted his stance, looking a little more confident. “Yeah, well I’m the one with the gun trained on you, and I’m guessing you don’t want to be shot.”

“I could shoot Mike right now, and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” Derek said.

“Sure, give it a shot. But then I’ll shoot you before you can get to me. I wouldn’t try it if living is on your agenda for today, bitch.” Jesse sneered back. Mike was impressed. Jesse clearly knew how to put on a show of confidence in dangerous situations. Mike could even see Derek reconfiguring his original assessment of Jesse.

“Alright, alright, how about we bring the tension in here down a couple notches.” Derek said. “I’m sure we can reach a compromise we’ll all be happy about.”

Jesse made a face. “You came here to kill us. I somehow doubt it.” With those words, Jesse took his shot. The bullet hit Derek’s hand and he dropped his gun, yelling. Mike didn’t waste any time, grabbing the dropped gun from the ground and bringing it around to train it on Derek. He was about to shoot him when Jesse stepped forward.

“Wait, Mike. He could be useful as like, leverage or something. We could sure some leverage right now.”

Mike looked back at Derek, considering. “You’re absolutely right.” He said, and pistol-whipped Derek in retaliation. Derek dropped to the ground, unconscious. He considered.

“Is there a closet in your bedroom?” Mike asked.

Jesse looked confused. “Yeah? Why?”

“We’ll lock him in there until we can manage to get hold of Gus. Here, grab his legs.” Mike said. Jesse nodded, and the two of them picked Derek up and dragged him back to the bedroom. They locked the heavy closet door and sighed.

“I’m going to try my phone again. Maybe Gus will finally answer his phone.” Mike said, walking to the door. He turned around and looked at Jesse. “You did good, kid.

Jesse processed this and Mike disappeared from the room.

Chapter Text

It took until the next day for Mike to contact Gus and Gus in turn to open up a discussion with Billy Brighton and vice versa. Gus finally phoned back to tell Mike that Brighton would come up to the cabin to deal with them personally, but that he had assured him if he got his man back unharmed they would forget about this whole situation.

Jesse spent the remaining time pacing back and forth in the cabin in increasing anxiety that Mike noticed. He eventually told Jesse to go watch the main road in case there were any nasty surprises. Mike knew there wouldn’t be, that it was in Brighton’s best interest to resolve this situation peacefully, but it gave Jesse something to besides worry.

The next morning dawned clear and bright, the sun glinting brilliantly off of the wide expanse of snow. Mike woke Jesse up early, and they ate breakfast together, Mike checking his watch ever so often as the agreed-upon time approached.

At half-past ten, with only half an hour to go, Mike got up from his seat and walked over to Jesse, who was watching out the front of the house.

“You ready for this, kid?” He asked.

Jesse glanced over at him. “I thought you said there wouldn’t be any trouble.”

Mike nodded. “I’m sure there won’t be, but get a group of armed criminals together, there’s always a chance that something could go wrong. I need you on top of things. I know you can handle it.”

Jesse tried to play it cool, but Mike could see the pleased smile that crossed over his face for a moment. He immediately sat up straighter and looked more confident. Mike shook his head. Jesse tended to respond to any kind of approval with an immediate redoubling of effort and loyalty which made Mike think he hadn’t gotten a lot of it from his parents. It was easy to see how Walter had gotten the kid to do anything he wanted. The thought only made him dislike Walter even more.

The sounds of engines came running up the driveway outside and Jesse turned from the window. “They’re here.” He said.

Mike went into the back to get Derek. The man was clearly annoyed at being locked in a closet for a day, but he had agreed to back off when he got back to Brighton. Mike pressed his gun into the small of Derek’s back more as a matter of course than as a real precaution and marched him back out to the living room. Jesse was waiting at the door, one hand on the doorknob and the other holding a pistol loosely. Mike nodded at him and Jesse opened the door, taking point out to the front yard.

Three men were getting out of a black Jeep parked in the driveway. Two of them were men Jesse and Mike had seen in that warehouse, but the third man was clearly Billy Brighton, judging from his eagerness to step to the forefront and meet them in front of the front steps.

Brighton peered past Jesse at Derek to make sure he was unharmed before nodding. “Well, you two weren’t exactly what I was expecting when I got the call that you were holding Derek hostage.”

He looked at Mike with a certain amount of respect. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re a bit of a legend in the circles we both run in.”

Mike was unimpressed with his attempt to stroke his ego. “I just have a job, and I do it.”

Brighton turned his gaze on Jesse next, and he was less reverential. “You’re younger than I thought you’d be. I imagined you taller.”

Jesse crossed his arms and sneered. His image was much more easily tarnished than Mike’s, and was more prone to bouts of showing off. “Yeah well, I was old enough to get the drop on your best guy here. Asshole.”

Mike rolled his eyes but Brighton laughed. “Shall we get down to business then, gentlemen? Your employer, Mr. Fring, has impressed upon me that all of this was started with a misunderstanding. I can see how things may have gotten a little bit out of control.”

“We’re willing to put it all behind us if you are.” Mike said, simple and to the point.

Brighton nodded. “I wish to continue my business in the New Mexico area without being molested by Fring’s men. Us coming into conflict would be bad for business. For that reason, I have chosen to forgive you killing my other men as long as Derek is returned.”

“And what we saw in the warehouse?” Jesse pointed out before Mike could let Derek go.

Brighton looked at him. “You didn’t see anything in the warehouse, Mr. Pinkman. As long as it stays that way, we should be just fine.”

Jesse nodded and Mike lowered the gun, allowing Derek to walk over and join Brighton’s side. Brighton paused for a moment, and Jesse tensed up, wondering if this was the moment where bullets would start flying. Instead, the four men turned around, got in their car, and drove away, the Jeep disappearing into the distance.

Jesse almost visibly deflated, letting out a huge breath. “Holy shit, Mike. That was like, intense as shit.”

Mike, who had been in various hostage situations much more charged than that one, grunted out a laugh. “You did good, Jesse.”

Jesse smiled but then looked over at their ruined car, remembering they were still stuck out here. “Uh, Mike, how are we getting back to Albuquerque?”

“Gus is sending Tyrus up here with a car at one. We’ve got about an hour and a half to wait.” Mike headed back towards the warmth of the safe house.

Jesse trudged after him. “God, like we haven’t done enough waiting already.”

Mike and Jesse packed up their bags, which took a grand total of five minutes and then dropped them on the couch in the living room. They had already cleaned up the mess from the gunfight the day before. As a safe house, they didn’t need to worry overtly about cleaning up every scrap of DNA evidence, but they made a thorough sweep of the house just to be on the safe side.

Mike glanced at the door to the back porch where they had stashed the two bodies of the men Mike had killed. That they did still need to deal with. “Alright, come on, Jesse. We still need to take care of the bodies.”

Jesse followed Mike to the back porch where the two bodies were lying. They were stiff from the cold and Mike didn’t relish the thought of wrestling the two of them onto the tarp they had lying at the ready. Jesse took the initiative, stepping forward and grabbing the lapels of the first man’s shirt.

“I take the arms, you grab the legs?” Jesse said, and Mike complied. The two of them grunted as they lifted up the dead weight, shuffling over to the tarp and dumping the body on top.

Mike watched Jesse as they moved back to grab the second body. He had a determined but still somewhat blank look on his face, like he was zoning out in the process of doing what needed to be done. God knew Jesse had already dealt with enough bodies that it didn’t shock the same as the first time.

Mike knew these were the first bodies Jesse had come into contact with since Gale’s death and wondered whether it was better or worse that Jesse was separating himself from what he was doing. He figured that if Jesse was planning on continuing in this line of work, in the long run, it might be better for him.

Mike then wondered when he starting worrying so much about Jesse’s mental wellbeing. Every day that passed, Mike’s affection for the kid grew, in a way that reminded him of his protective instincts for Matt. Thoughts of Matt were best left in the past, but that didn’t change Mike’s urge to coach Jesse and keep him out of the worst of this business. If he was being true to himself, it might even have made those instincts stronger.

Jesse and Mike dragged the rolled-up tarp with the bodies around to the front steps and left it there until Tyrus arrived. It was almost time to go and Jesse tapped his foot on the ground impatiently. He kept looking at Mike like he wanted to ask him a question, and Mike waited patiently until he came out with it.

“Uh, Mike, when we get back, what happens? Do we just go back to normal? What do I tell Mr. White?” He asked, biting his lip.

“I expect everything will fall back into place. There’s no reason for anything to change. We shouldn’t have any more trouble from Billy Brighton’s crew. As for Walter, you can tell him anything you want.” Mike said.

Jesse nodded. “He’s not going to be happy about having to do the cook by himself all week, I bet. He’s such a dick when I’m like, late or anything. He’s gonna be a complete asshole now.”

Mike pursed his lips. “Jesse, my suggestion is, stop worrying so much about what Walter thinks. The man has a tendency of making his problems the responsibility of other people to solve. You don’t owe him anything.”

Jesse looked at Mike, still unsure. Jesse’s loyalty was not something that was swayed easily, as Mike was beginning to see. “You think?”

Mike nodded. “I do.” He could only hope that Jesse would take some of his words to heart, that Walter’s grip on Jesse would be loosened just a little bit after this week. Jesse needed to learn about a way to live with what he did, and that might be one of the first steps.

At long last, the sight of Tyrus driving the dark car down the driveway became visible in the distance. They watched their ride approach in silence. Mike patted Jesse on the back, the closest he was likely to get to a hug. “You’re going to be alright, kid.”

Jesse looked back at him in silence, and Mike wondered if he believed his own words, whether he was right. He hoped he was.

The End.