Chapter Text
It’d been six months.
Music blaring in his ears, Jake looked despondently out of the coach window as the English countryside rolled before his eyes. Hertfordshire, was it? He didn’t really care. They’d all left London early in the morning to get a few days out of the city. ‘Fresh air will do you all your lungs some good’, the music teacher, Mr. Temple, had said cheerily. Jake hadn’t wanted to go to this band trip in the first place, so whether he was spending his time in a mouldy hostel in London or in fancy Hobbiton didn’t really matter to him. Right now, he was content to just move with the flow, or wherever else his parents wanted him to be. He had to keep up appearances, right?
Missing, presumed dead.
He glanced to his right. Abi seemed excited enough about the change in scenery, so perhaps he shouldn’t be too quick to judge. Outside, the small, grey fields were peppered with oak trees and cottages. A very different view from what he was used to. Back in Albuquerque, everything was so much bigger, larger than life even. It didn’t stop Jake from feeling as insignificant here as he did in New Mexico, though. Not for the first time, Jake wondered whether Jesse would have liked drawing this new landscape on one of the many notepads Jake had liked browsing as a kid. Jesse would have probably complained about the heavy clouds and near constant drizzle which had plagued the band ever since they had gotten there. Rightly so, too: his sheet would have warped from the humidity, and the raindrops would have ruined any attempts at reproducing the landscape, with streaks of black ink rolling down the paper.
But Jesse was missing, presumed dead.
Six months ago, these two APD detectives had knocked on the door, had asked about Jesse.
‘What’s this boy gotten into now,’ his mother had said. ‘He’ll be the death of me.’
A look from his father, and Jake had left the front room. But, instead of going upstairs, as was expected of him, he’d sat on the first step, within earshot. He’d not seen his brother in months, he’d wanted to hear everything. He had heard everything.
***
One of the counselors glanced worriedly towards Jake. He knew all about these stares. It’s just grief, they said behind his back, depression. Can you imagine having a brother like that ? The poor boy… He hated these looks the most, as if he was just some kicked puppy, waiting to shatter into a million pieces. He dealt with them the only way he knew: keeping his grades up and methodically practising his oboe and piccolo, going to soccer practice every other day. The image of perfection. He turned the music up, looking back at the lousy weather out of the window.
It took him a few seconds to figure out what the camp counselor’s look had meant, until Abi tapped his shoulder, motioning for him to turn the music down and listen. He took his earphones off. The headline news was blaring from the driver’s radio for everyone to hear.
… largest methamphetamine production southwest of the United States, was found dead near his hometown of Albuquerque following a gunfight involving eight other people. Circumstances surrounding White’s death are still unclear. His signature product, Blue Sky, had reached as far as the Czech Republic. Manufacture and distribution had continued during his six months disappearance.
Now, onto national news. Prime Minister David Cameron has had to postpone PMQ’s…
Jake put his earphones back in, drowning the rest of the headlines out. The man who had murdered his brother was dead, finally. Good riddance.
***
The detectives started by talking about the two missing DEA agents, whose names had been going around the news for twenty-four hours now, and about this J.P. Wynne chemistry teacher turned drug kingpin, Walter White. ‘Jesse’s chemistry teacher,’ his parents had whispered when they thought Jake couldn’t hear, ‘and that DEA agent… he’d asked about Jesse and Mr. White!’. His parents did not share this titbit of information with the police officers. Instead, they listened. Jesse had been working for Walter White on and off for about eighteen months. About a week before, he’d had some sort of a mental breakdown, and had started cooperating with the DEA agent in charge of the case, Schrader. Him and his colleague had arrested White, and then, nothing.
‘White admitted to having killed Agent Schrader and Agent Gomez, as you’ve probably heard on the news,’ one of the detectives said, the tall one, with the hair and the deeper voice. ‘We believe your son was still with them at the time. Although White did not mention him, it’s likely that he…’
The detective was cut by his mother’s sobs. They’d all heard about Heisenberg’s alleged involvement with the prison killings half a year ago, they knew how ruthless he could be. The sobs lasted for a long time, with each cry stabbing at Jake’s heart. But he stayed put, and stayed silent. The detectives were not gone yet, they had something else to say.
Eventually, Diane Pinkman’s cries had softened enough for the other detective to continue.
‘I’m sorry for your loss, Ma’am. Jesse is still considered missing, and a person of interest to the Heisenberg case, but we preferred telling you our suspicions before this lands on the news.’
His father quietly mumbled something back, but Jake was too far to hear.
‘Suffices to say,’ the first detective continued. ‘We’ll contact you if we’ve got any relevant developments to the case.’ If ever they find Jesse’s body, he didn’t say. ‘Please feel free to contact us if you remember anything regarding Jesse’s whereabouts during the past two years.’
‘Any information you can provide could help us find him.’
The detectives left shortly after, having exchanged a few empty words with his parents. Jake ran up the stairs, not caring whether his parents heard him or not, anymore. His brother was dead, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
***
Three days later, back in London, Mr. Temple pulled him aside and lead him down to the basement the hostel used as a dining hall. He pulled out chairs for the both of them and motioned for Jake to sit down. The old chairs creaked under his weight, but Jake shifted as to not make a sound. There was a mobile phone on the table. This was important. Jake half expected that this would be the conversation he had dreaded for six months now. That they had finally found Jesse, buried in the desert with these two federal agents. What followed caught him completely off guard.
Earlier today, Mr. Temple had received a call from Jake’s parents. Jesse was alive. He’d been at the shoot-out on the news, the one that had killed Heisenberg. He’d escaped from some kind of prison, nobody was quite sure what it entailed. He had called mom and dad… Mr. Temple put his hand on Jake’s shoulder, but he hardly felt the touch. Jake didn’t really know what to feel. Wasn’t he supposed to be happy? Elated? Maybe angry at his parents for sending him away, robbing him of hearing Jesse one last time. Or at Jesse, for throwing himself into this nightmarish mess. Instead, Jake just felt resigned, as if nothing had changed. Mr. Temple left, leaving Jake some privacy to phone his parents.
Ten minutes later, Jake climbed the stairs back up to the reception, and handed the phone back to his music teacher. He hadn’t found it in him to dial the number.
***
Jake tossed and turned in his bed that night, a single thought going round his head, over and over. Jesse was alive, and Jake didn’t know what to do with the information. His heart clenched, but he didn’t cry. He just wanted to sleep in his own bed, back at home. He wished that the next morning, he’d go downstairs and find Jesse and Mom already up, Mom fussing over his brother’s choice of breakfast food - Oreos and Pop-Tarts dipped in milk, most likely. These hopes were no longer just naive daydreams, but a possible reality because Jesse was alive.
But, in the end, Jake was no idiot. Although Jesse was apparently alive, he held no illusions. Jake knew, he knew that Jesse was never coming back. They would never find him, or they’d find him dead, and Jake may as well have lost his brother a second time.