Breaking Bad fic: Yonder Stands Your Orphan
Title. Yonder Stands Your Orphan (1/3)
Fandom. Breaking Bad
Characters. Jesse, old Joe and others to be revealed.
Summary. Post Felina fic. Jesse is desperate to leave his life of crime behind him and yet crime is the only means of survival that he knows. What will it take for Jesse to break free from the person he has been?
Warnings. Bad language. Lots of trauma. It's Jesse POV after all.
Disclaimer. Breaking Bad is not mine, but I needs must have my own Jesse resolution.
Beta. Thanks to bessiemaemucho and celeryy515 who both offered to beta for me on the same day and so I ended up saying yes to them both. And then they both ended up having a weekend away when I sent them this chapter. You're weirdly in sync, guys :)
Author Note. As promised, this is the first part of my post-Felina Jesse fic that has very little to do with Alaska or Brock.
“You must leave now, take what you need, what you think will last.
Whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast,
Yonder stands your orphan with his gun
Crying like a fire in the sun
Look out the saints are coming through
And it’s all over now, Baby Blue.” (Bob Dylan)
Chapter One: Yonder Stands Your Orphan
Jesse had just wanted to hear music again.
A little driving music, that’s all. Music was one those things that Jesse hadn’t realized could be taken away from him for so long. So the sudden remembrance that the car had a radio and that radios played music was enough to make Jesse’s heart leap as he fumbled with the dials. Any music would do, he thought. He had been driving for a few hours now with only his own deranged laughter to accompany him. He thought a little music might chill him out. He didn’t think turning the radio on would fuck him up so bad.
“...receiving live updates on the mass shooting of at least seven men believed to have been running a methamphetamine syndicate from an industrial compound on the western outskirts of Albuquerque. Fugitive drug dealer, Walter White, who was sighted by a neighbor at his former home earlier today, was also found dead at the scene. His body was discovered in what’s thought to have been the gang’s laboratory. It remains unclear...”
The last words Jesse really heard were ‘dead at the scene’. The rest of the newscast was lost behind by a buzzing white noise that filled his mind.
Mr White was dead. He was finally fucking dead.
Jesse’s vision blurred with tears and his hands grew slippery on the wheel. It suddenly felt like he was drunk. Jesse already knew he was driving too fast. He had taken the car out to the lonely desert roads that fringed the city so he was less likely to crash into other drivers or be stopped for speeding. Jesse figured he would go on the run soon. It seemed like the thing to do in his situation. He just wasn’t ready to leave yet. Fuck it, he’d just wanted to savour this moment of being wild and free on the open road before shit had to get complicated again. But now Mr White was dead, he was dead and just...fuck...
Jesse swerved off the road and drove straight out into reservation land. He bit down on his lip and he scraped away his tears with his knuckles. And he wasn’t crying over Mr White, right? Shit, if he was crying over Mr White then they must be tears of purest fucking joy. Jesse just kept on driving. He forced himself to breathe and his breath came out in dry heaving sobs. But Jesse wasn’t crying for Mr White. He’d known that the evil old fucker was dying. He had seen the spreading stain on his shirt and he’d left him to bleed.
So now he was dead and gone for good. Emphasis on the good.
A few more miles and Jesse eased his foot off the accelerator. The car slowly spluttered to a halt. The radio had already turned to static. Jesse threw open the door and staggered out into the big barren emptiness. His walk was all stiff and deformed; his limbs still weren’t used to moving without the chains hanging off them. He could still feel the cuffs biting at his wrists. He stumbled and sank to his knees. His sobs turned to screaming. How many screams had Jesse been holding in his chest these past two years? At least Jesse could scream in the desert. He was way out in the boonies; out in one of those lonely stretches of Indian territory where they used to cook in the RV. Nobody would hear Jesse screaming here.
Jesse stayed like that for a long time, clinging to the dead grass and crying so hard his tears stung his cracked lips. His body was wracked with shivers too. It was freezing in the desert at night and he wasn’t wearing any warm layers. But Jesse was out in the free air. He didn’t care how cold and bitter it was. He wanted this air all around him. He wanted it swirling his hair and pimpling his skin. Jesse hadn’t expected to taste this air again.
He slowly raised his eyes to the stars. He wondered if he was really alone out here. Yeah, there had been nights in his cell that Jesse had been desperate enough to pray. Please God or whoever...please get me out of here. I swear I’ll be a good boy if you just get me out. All that shit. Now Jesse was finally free but it wasn’t God who’d saved him. No, it was the Devil who came back for him in the end. The same Devil who’d put him in that cage to begin with. The same Devil who’d cursed his life since the day they had met. And yeah, the same Devil who had always been, like...Jesse’s weird-ass guardian angel.
He squeezed his eyes closed, swallowing his tears. He wondered if he could really keep his superstitious promises to be a good person from now on. Jesse had never really believed in God. He’d let himself be dragged to church a few Sundays by his Aunt Ginny because she’d wanted to get right with Jesus before she kicked. Jesse didn’t think any amount of praying would get him right with the world now. But he was grateful for this little bit of mercy. He wasn’t going to die a slave in that filthy hole in the ground. And for now, that was enough. It was enough that Jesse wasn’t going to die back there.
“Thank you...” Jesse murmured.
He had no idea who he was saying it to.
He stumbled back to the car, wrung out in his body and soul. He flipped up the arm rest and he curled up on the seats, sleep swiftly overtaking him.
~*~
The sun was high and blazing in the sky when Jesse woke. He was sweating, his head throbbed and his throat was raw from all his screaming last night. Glancing at the clock on the car radio Jesse realized he had slept through into the afternoon. He hadn’t slept so well in a long time. Well, Jesse never really slept at all in his former prison. He lay still and shut his eyes, bracing himself for when Todd came back. The sleep he’d had in the car was deep and dreamless, maybe even healing. He sat up, rubbing his eyes.
Mr White is dead, Jesse thought.
He punched the car horn and made a growling sound in his throat because he hated that this was the first thing he remembered. Jesse told himself once again that he wasn’t upset that Mr White was dead and gone. He knew he shouldn’t waste any more time thinking about the old asshole. He needed to get on the road now; he needed to run. He had already wasted so much time that he should’ve spent escaping. God, he needed...
...he needed water. He seriously needed water.
Jesse rummaged the floor and compartments of the car for any bottled liquids but found nothing. He reluctantly got out of the car to take a piss and his kidneys hurt so bad he almost fainted. Jesse steadied himself against the car hood and he took a few deep breaths. He had been through this before. He knew how quickly you could get dehydrated in the desert heat. He could remember being so fucking exhausted with thirst he didn’t even have the energy to celebrate when Mr White finally got the RV started up again. Jesse closed his eyes and he let himself get lost in those memories. He thought about the week following their four day cook; about how Mr White hadn’t been answering his calls, how Jane had caught Jesse checking the obituaries and she’d asked him what was wrong.
It’s nothing, Jesse had told her, Shit, it’s just...you remember that guy who came over here? The bald dude who was pretending to be my dad? Well, the thing is...the guy’s got cancer and last weekend he was, like...coughing up blood. Now I haven’t heard from him in days and I’ve got a bad feeling that, um...I think that he might have...
Jane had shushed him and stroked his hair.
Baby, I’m sorry, she’d said, but he’s not your dad, right?
Jesse had wiped his eyes and changed the subject. He couldn’t explain to Jane who Mr White was to him. Yeah, he wasn’t Jesse’s dad, but there was a time when he’d been a lot more than that. That time didn’t even feel real anymore; the time back when he still was Mr White, before he turned into Heisenberg and the Devil and scarier things on top of that. There was a time when Jesse would have mourned the days they spent out in the desert with the RV and the chemistry. He couldn’t say the desert was their happy place anymore. No, the desert was the place where Walter White had let those men put Jesse on his knees and put a gun to his head...where he had given them the nod to shoot. He would’ve stood in the desert and he would’ve watched Jesse die...same as he said he watched Jane die.
Jesse wondered if he should have pulled the trigger and watched him die too. He had a hundred reasons to do it, but he never could have shot that evil old bastard enough times to feel like he’d got any justice - for himself or for all the others. Jesse wondered if his biggest mistake was leaving the gun. That day on his knees in the sand, looking up at the blue sky...Jesse had been ready to die then. He’d been prepared for it, more prepared than he was for everything that happened to him after. If Jesse had just kept the gun, he’d have another choice here; a choice that might be hell of a lot easier than going on the run...
Jesse sat in the car for a long time, staring at the keys on the dashboard and at the setting sun beyond the window. His throat burned and his head pounded and he was already starting to feel sleepy again. Jesse remembered asking Mr White what would have happened to them if they hadn’t built that new battery. Mr White said within a day or so they’d have fallen asleep and from sleep they would have slipped into comas and soon after that they’d have stopped breathing. Jesse wondered if that was the way they should have died all along, out there in the RV with the crates of Blue Sky before anyone else got hurt. It could have all ended out in the desert. It could have been perfect...a perfect moment to die. Jesse understood now. He finally got what Mr White had meant when he’d said all that shit. It wasn’t that he wanted to drop dead. It was that he had lived too long. He’d seen too much.
Jesse sat in the car until nightfall, waiting for his coma. But when the stars came out Jesse’s heart stirred again. He decided he really did need a drink.
It was sometime after midnight that Jesse was on the road leading back into Albuquerque, struggling to find a rest stop that would be open in the wee hours of morning. After a long thirsty search, he pulled up the car alongside a Dennys, its neon sign beaming at him like a reassuring smile. Jesse didn’t have any money, of course, but he made a fast beeline for the bathroom and spent a good ten minutes sucking on the cold tap. When Jesse raised his head from the sink, he caught a brief glimpse of his pale haggard reflection in the mirror. He looked away quick, like his eyeballs had been burnt. Jesse crept back into the cafe which was thankfully near empty with only a skeleton staff barely awake at the tills. He still thought it’d be better if he didn’t hang around. He marched towards the door and froze as he spied half a mug of stone cold black coffee and a piece of cold dry toast abandoned at one of the empty tables. Jesse knocked back the coffee in a single swig and he pocketed the toast. He had a bad feeling this might the closest thing to a meal he’d get for a while.
Jesse climbed back in the car and decided to risk the radio once more. They were playing music now. Late night love stations, real corny torch songs. Jesse almost switched it off. Then there came a repeat airing of the latest local news.
“...police investigating the Albuquerque meth lab massacre are searching for a black 1978 Chevrolet El Camino registered to Todd Alquist, one of the bodies identified at the crime scene. The missing vehicle is believed to have been taken by one or more of the drug gang’s associates who were presumably fleeing from the machine gun fire. Police wish to warn the public that the driver of this car may be armed and should be...”
Jesse turned the radio off so he could concentrate on not having a heart attack. Fuck the police were working this case fast. Well, the Great Heisenberg was involved so Jesse supposed the FBI had come in and were helping the local PD turn over the evidence, speeding it all up. But shit, the car was the only advantage Jesse had. Come first light he’d probably have police helicopters bearing down on it.
So he was screwed, he was boned, unless...
Yes. There was still time. He knew where to go.
~*~
It was close to 3am when Jesse pulled up at the gates of old Joe’s junkyard. He didn’t have the energy to climb the fence so he got on his knees and burrowed beneath. After slithering through the tiny trench he’d dug, Jesse spat the sand from his mouth and he marched towards the off-white trailer that served as both Joe’s office and residence. He banged on the door. A minute later Joe appeared in his robe and slippers.
“Hey man, I’m sorry to wake you, I...I need a favor.”
Joe just squinted at him. “Do I know you?”
He shifted nervously. “Yeah...it’s Jesse Pinkman.”
Joe’s eyes widened. “Jesus H Christ. Yeah...I remember you. Walt White’s little friend, right? I thought it said on the news a while back you were dead?”
Jesse shrugged. “Well, I’m not.”
“I see that. Good for you.” Joe smirked at him and then frowned again. “Hey, wait a minute...were you caught up in that business with the machine gun? The big shooting at that compound out of town...you know, the place they found your old partner?”
Jesse nodded, since it seemed Joe was itching to hear all about it.
“Yeah, yeah...” said Joe, “It said on the news the gate had been mowed down. Police figured at least one person got away. So that was you, huh? You’re the one that got out alive?” Joe’s smile returned. “Well, good for you.” He winced a little. “I guess...”
Joe suddenly seemed suspicious of Jesse’s visit to his lot. He took a step out onto his porch, his eyes locked on something he’d spied over Jesse’s shoulder.
“Aw, Christ...” He raised a finger. “Is that what I think it is? That the car?”
Jesse swallowed. “Yeah, um, I’m sorry...I was thinking that...”
Joe raised a hand. “Stop talking. Stop talking now and get that thing in here.”
Jesse didn’t waste any time following instructions. Joe unlocked the gate and Jesse drove the car through, parking it behind the tall mountains of scrap metal, safe from outside view. Jesse got out of the car to find Joe staring at it hard, rubbing his forehead.
“So is it possible I could like...sell it to you?” Jesse attempted. “Or trade it, I mean. You can give me anything, man. Any hunk of junk you got lying around. I don’t care. I just need a car that the cops won’t be looking for. I need to get out of town...”
Joe laughed. “Yeah, I expect you do. But I’m not exactly in the market for a car connected to a mass murder at a meth lab. And I haven’t got anything to trade you anyways. I had a bit of a closing down sale yesterday afternoon. I’m shutting up shop here. All of my working cars are with Clovis now. They’re all gone...” Joe seemed to notice Jesse’s face fall and he tipped his head at him, sympathetically. “You got any money?”
Jesse closed his eyes. “No. Nothing...”
“Sorry. I don’t think Clovis goes in for charity.”
“Couldn’t you, like...strip it for parts?” said Jesse, his desperation growing. “And then give me some money for the parts? It’s...this car’s all I’ve got.”
Joe was already shaking his head. “No time. This vehicle’s one very hot bit of evidence. It’s got to destroyed, toot sweet, same as we did your old RV...”
“You can’t! What...what’ll I do without wheels?”
Joe waved a hand, gesturing for Jesse to lower his voice. “Hey...calm down, son. I’m trying to do you a favor here. And I’m only doing this favor because I like you...” Joe raised his finger again, pointing it right in Jesse’s surprised face. “The kid with the magnet plan, right? Yeah, smart kid. I like you.” Joe slapped Jesse on the shoulder and nodded to the machine behind him. “Come on now. Help me get it in the crusher...”
Jesse trusted that Joe was making the right call here, even though it would make him leaving town ten times harder. That said Jesse didn’t feel much as he watched Todd’s Chevy getting crushed to a small metal cube. But then Jesse hadn’t felt much when he was crushing Todd’s windpipe either. It wasn’t like the time he had to watch the Crystal Ship being ripped apart in metal jaws. His heart had become a lot harder since then. Jesse helped Joe finish up the job then followed him back to his office. There were a lot of bags and boxes packed into his reception. Joe ushered Jesse inside and he began to dig through them.
“Like I told you,” said Joe. “I’m shutting up shop and I mean permanently.” He shrugged. “I’ve been meaning to get out of town for a long time now. I knew the day had to come, but I’ve been dragging my heels. Hearing about the return of our mutual associate...I guess that was the wake up call I needed. Hey, tell me something...all that lab equipment they found at the compound. Is it the same portable gear I built for you?”
Jesse cringed. “Yeah, yeah it is.”
Joe nodded. “I know it’s doubtful they’ll trace it back to me, but you can’t be too careful. I’m taking White coming back on as a sign that I ought to just disappear, like a fart in the wind.” Joe looked back at Jesse and spread his arms. “It’s my retirement day, kid. Tomorrow I’m getting picked up by this guy who’s gonna set me up with a new identity, if you can believe that.” Joe shook his head in wonder. “He’s said he can move me to a whole other town. Somewhere out in the country I’m hoping...somewhere quiet.”
Jesse nodded and forced a smile. It took every last shred of dignity he had left not to burst into tears and to beg Joe to take him along. But Jesse knew that even begging wouldn’t do him any good. By the sounds of it old Joe was using Saul’s vacuum repair guy. Jesse had already blown his one shot at getting out of town that way. Jesse was actually surprised to learn that this mysterious disappearer man was a real thing. He had been sure that red mini-van was just another trap Mr White was setting; a plan to make Jesse disappear in a very different way.
“I’ll be honest,” Joe continued. “This guy’s services don’t come cheap. I can only just afford it with the little nest egg I’ve built up and the jobs that I did for you and your partner make up a large sum of my savings. So here, let me give you something...”
Joe held out what looked like a small tool kit. Jesse frowned.
“You ever hotwired a car?” asked Joe. “I haven’t got time to give you a tutorial. Suffice it to say in this little kit you’ll find a screwdriver, a Slim Jim, wire stripper and whatnot....” Joe checked his watch. “It’s just coming up to 4am. You got a few good hours before most folk are gonna be awake. So you take the north road into town and you’ll come to a real shitty neighborhood. The cars you find there won’t be alarmed. It’s the best place to steal one. The police will come looking for it eventually but they won’t be hunting it like that black Chevy.”
Joe pressed the tool kit into his hand. Jesse shook his head.
“I...I can’t,” he said.
“Sure you can!” Joe encouraged. He snatched a notebook off his desk and began scrawling on the first clean page. “Here, I’ll write you a little cheat sheet if you're not familiar with the process. Other boys I’ve loaned this kit to have picked up the gist of it pretty quickly.” Joe gave Jesse the notebook and tapped the side of his head. “P.M.A. my friend. Positive mental attitude. Like I said, you’re a smart kid. You’ll make it.”
Jesse was grateful for the vote of confidence. He just didn’t know how to explain to Joe that while he might be capable of stealing a car he was really trying not to commit another crime here. Christ, how could Jesse explain to the crooked old junkyard guy that he had made this cosmic deal with God or the universe or whatever that if he got to escape from the compound then he was gonna be a good guy from now on?
He couldn’t explain it, so he didn’t try. Instead Jesse just took the tool kit with another forced smile. Joe did some more rooting through his lost and found box and he fished out a hooded jacket and a pair of knitted gloves which he also handed to Jesse.
“Here, take these as well. It’s just stuff people left behind in cars that they gave me. Make sure you put on the gloves. You don’t want to leave any fingerprints in this town and you best keep yourself covered up till you’re a good distance away. You don’t look like that old mug shot of yours they were flashing up on the news a while back, but...” Joe looked Jesse up and down. “...you don’t exactly look inconspicuous either.”
Jesse nodded, slipping on the gloves and the coat and raising his hood.
“You want some free advice?” said Joe. “Don’t go knocking on anyone else’s door. You might think you’ve got friends in this town, but the locals are going nuts over this meth lab story. Even if there’s someone you think you can trust it’s just as likely they’ll roll on you for a little of the fame and glory. Just concentrate on boosting a car...”
Joe’s face crumpled into a grim smile that told Jesse that he wasn’t going to be one of those people rolling on him. Jesse felt a pang of guilt as he tried to remember if he’d said anything about Joe’s yard when he had spilled his guts to Schrader. It hardly mattered now since Todd had taken the tape and Joe was getting out of town. But Jesse had forgotten that he even had any friends in the world. It still meant something to him.
“Anything else I can do?” asked Joe.
“I, um...” Jesse looked to the floor. “I’m hungry.”
Joe sighed and turned to open up his near empty fridge. He fished an egg roll, a half pack of salami and a few slices of processed cheese out of the back.
“I’m sorry we ain’t got time to share a beer and catch up,” said Joe, handing Jesse the food which he quickly stuffed into his pockets. “I mean that sincerely...I don’t know what happened to you, kid, but...I can tell it wasn’t anything good.”
These words were enough to get Jesse shuffling towards the door. He didn’t mind taking charity but he wasn’t ready to face any kind of scrutiny about what had been done to him. He was down the trailer steps and halfway towards the gate when Joe suddenly called him back.
“Hey, wait up...there’s something else I should tell you,” he began. “Maybe it’s something you already know. But if you don’t know, then...I’m thinking maybe it’s something you should know.”
Jesse halted and stared back at Joe in confusion.
Joe shrugged. “Maybe it’s just something I need to get off my chest.”
“What are you talking about?” Jesse asked him.
“The last job I did for your old partner,” said Joe. “When was what? Almost a year ago now, I think. He wanted me to crush a car for him. Well, actually he didn’t come himself. He sent this young guy towing the car. This kid tells me that he’s Mr White’s new partner and that the vehicle he has with him best not be found. And so he pays me to destroy it. I only got a quick look at the car, but I saw that the headlights were smashed in, the driver’s side window was broken and there’s blood splattering the front seats.” Joe shook his head. “I didn’t ask any questions. I didn’t feel safe asking any questions...that young guy gave me the creeps. But I could see what had happened. And I knew whose car it was.”
Jesse didn’t need him to go on. “Mike...it was Mike’s car, right?”
Joe nodded. “Did White ever tell you he did that?”
“No, he never told me.” Jesse shuddered. “But I knew.”
“I’m sorry,” said Joe. “Like I said...that was the last job I ever did for Walt White. And I’m not proud of the part I played in that. Looking back...that should have been the time that I got out of town. I should have just up and left. A few capers with giant magnets, okay...but it all went too far, you know?” He sighed. “But I’m old and set in my ways. I wasn’t ready for a change. I’ve always liked this town...lived here all my life.”
Jesse wasn’t looking at Joe anymore. He was staring at the glimmering street lights ahead, the glow of the town that Jesse liked a lot too. He hadn’t ever wanted to leave the ABQ...no matter how many times Mike had said it was the only smart thing to do. Jesse’s cheeks were wet again but at least the shadowy folds of his hood drew its curtains around his tears. After a moment, he felt Joe’s hand on his shoulder, gently ushering Jesse towards his gate.
“Good luck, kid,” said Joe. “You have a good rest of your life, alright?”
And with that, Jesse was on the road into town, clutching Joe’s tool kit and the notebook to his chest. Part of him just wanted to drop to his knees and start screaming again. But he wasn’t out in the desert anymore. If he screamed now, there were people in nearby houses who would wake up and hear him. No, he couldn’t start wailing over this now and Mike wasn’t his dad either. Jesse had always known that Mike was dead and how he had died, though it still hurt to be told so...why did Jesse have to be right about the worst things? And why hadn’t Jesse realized he was right until it was way too late?
“I’m sorry,” Jesse said softly under his breath.
He didn’t know who he was saying that to either.
To be continued...
Fandom. Breaking Bad
Characters. Jesse, old Joe and others to be revealed.
Summary. Post Felina fic. Jesse is desperate to leave his life of crime behind him and yet crime is the only means of survival that he knows. What will it take for Jesse to break free from the person he has been?
Warnings. Bad language. Lots of trauma. It's Jesse POV after all.
Disclaimer. Breaking Bad is not mine, but I needs must have my own Jesse resolution.
Beta. Thanks to bessiemaemucho and celeryy515 who both offered to beta for me on the same day and so I ended up saying yes to them both. And then they both ended up having a weekend away when I sent them this chapter. You're weirdly in sync, guys :)
Author Note. As promised, this is the first part of my post-Felina Jesse fic that has very little to do with Alaska or Brock.
“You must leave now, take what you need, what you think will last.
Whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast,
Yonder stands your orphan with his gun
Crying like a fire in the sun
Look out the saints are coming through
And it’s all over now, Baby Blue.” (Bob Dylan)
Chapter One: Yonder Stands Your Orphan
Jesse had just wanted to hear music again.
A little driving music, that’s all. Music was one those things that Jesse hadn’t realized could be taken away from him for so long. So the sudden remembrance that the car had a radio and that radios played music was enough to make Jesse’s heart leap as he fumbled with the dials. Any music would do, he thought. He had been driving for a few hours now with only his own deranged laughter to accompany him. He thought a little music might chill him out. He didn’t think turning the radio on would fuck him up so bad.
“...receiving live updates on the mass shooting of at least seven men believed to have been running a methamphetamine syndicate from an industrial compound on the western outskirts of Albuquerque. Fugitive drug dealer, Walter White, who was sighted by a neighbor at his former home earlier today, was also found dead at the scene. His body was discovered in what’s thought to have been the gang’s laboratory. It remains unclear...”
The last words Jesse really heard were ‘dead at the scene’. The rest of the newscast was lost behind by a buzzing white noise that filled his mind.
Mr White was dead. He was finally fucking dead.
Jesse’s vision blurred with tears and his hands grew slippery on the wheel. It suddenly felt like he was drunk. Jesse already knew he was driving too fast. He had taken the car out to the lonely desert roads that fringed the city so he was less likely to crash into other drivers or be stopped for speeding. Jesse figured he would go on the run soon. It seemed like the thing to do in his situation. He just wasn’t ready to leave yet. Fuck it, he’d just wanted to savour this moment of being wild and free on the open road before shit had to get complicated again. But now Mr White was dead, he was dead and just...fuck...
Jesse swerved off the road and drove straight out into reservation land. He bit down on his lip and he scraped away his tears with his knuckles. And he wasn’t crying over Mr White, right? Shit, if he was crying over Mr White then they must be tears of purest fucking joy. Jesse just kept on driving. He forced himself to breathe and his breath came out in dry heaving sobs. But Jesse wasn’t crying for Mr White. He’d known that the evil old fucker was dying. He had seen the spreading stain on his shirt and he’d left him to bleed.
So now he was dead and gone for good. Emphasis on the good.
A few more miles and Jesse eased his foot off the accelerator. The car slowly spluttered to a halt. The radio had already turned to static. Jesse threw open the door and staggered out into the big barren emptiness. His walk was all stiff and deformed; his limbs still weren’t used to moving without the chains hanging off them. He could still feel the cuffs biting at his wrists. He stumbled and sank to his knees. His sobs turned to screaming. How many screams had Jesse been holding in his chest these past two years? At least Jesse could scream in the desert. He was way out in the boonies; out in one of those lonely stretches of Indian territory where they used to cook in the RV. Nobody would hear Jesse screaming here.
Jesse stayed like that for a long time, clinging to the dead grass and crying so hard his tears stung his cracked lips. His body was wracked with shivers too. It was freezing in the desert at night and he wasn’t wearing any warm layers. But Jesse was out in the free air. He didn’t care how cold and bitter it was. He wanted this air all around him. He wanted it swirling his hair and pimpling his skin. Jesse hadn’t expected to taste this air again.
He slowly raised his eyes to the stars. He wondered if he was really alone out here. Yeah, there had been nights in his cell that Jesse had been desperate enough to pray. Please God or whoever...please get me out of here. I swear I’ll be a good boy if you just get me out. All that shit. Now Jesse was finally free but it wasn’t God who’d saved him. No, it was the Devil who came back for him in the end. The same Devil who’d put him in that cage to begin with. The same Devil who’d cursed his life since the day they had met. And yeah, the same Devil who had always been, like...Jesse’s weird-ass guardian angel.
He squeezed his eyes closed, swallowing his tears. He wondered if he could really keep his superstitious promises to be a good person from now on. Jesse had never really believed in God. He’d let himself be dragged to church a few Sundays by his Aunt Ginny because she’d wanted to get right with Jesus before she kicked. Jesse didn’t think any amount of praying would get him right with the world now. But he was grateful for this little bit of mercy. He wasn’t going to die a slave in that filthy hole in the ground. And for now, that was enough. It was enough that Jesse wasn’t going to die back there.
“Thank you...” Jesse murmured.
He had no idea who he was saying it to.
He stumbled back to the car, wrung out in his body and soul. He flipped up the arm rest and he curled up on the seats, sleep swiftly overtaking him.
~*~
The sun was high and blazing in the sky when Jesse woke. He was sweating, his head throbbed and his throat was raw from all his screaming last night. Glancing at the clock on the car radio Jesse realized he had slept through into the afternoon. He hadn’t slept so well in a long time. Well, Jesse never really slept at all in his former prison. He lay still and shut his eyes, bracing himself for when Todd came back. The sleep he’d had in the car was deep and dreamless, maybe even healing. He sat up, rubbing his eyes.
Mr White is dead, Jesse thought.
He punched the car horn and made a growling sound in his throat because he hated that this was the first thing he remembered. Jesse told himself once again that he wasn’t upset that Mr White was dead and gone. He knew he shouldn’t waste any more time thinking about the old asshole. He needed to get on the road now; he needed to run. He had already wasted so much time that he should’ve spent escaping. God, he needed...
...he needed water. He seriously needed water.
Jesse rummaged the floor and compartments of the car for any bottled liquids but found nothing. He reluctantly got out of the car to take a piss and his kidneys hurt so bad he almost fainted. Jesse steadied himself against the car hood and he took a few deep breaths. He had been through this before. He knew how quickly you could get dehydrated in the desert heat. He could remember being so fucking exhausted with thirst he didn’t even have the energy to celebrate when Mr White finally got the RV started up again. Jesse closed his eyes and he let himself get lost in those memories. He thought about the week following their four day cook; about how Mr White hadn’t been answering his calls, how Jane had caught Jesse checking the obituaries and she’d asked him what was wrong.
It’s nothing, Jesse had told her, Shit, it’s just...you remember that guy who came over here? The bald dude who was pretending to be my dad? Well, the thing is...the guy’s got cancer and last weekend he was, like...coughing up blood. Now I haven’t heard from him in days and I’ve got a bad feeling that, um...I think that he might have...
Jane had shushed him and stroked his hair.
Baby, I’m sorry, she’d said, but he’s not your dad, right?
Jesse had wiped his eyes and changed the subject. He couldn’t explain to Jane who Mr White was to him. Yeah, he wasn’t Jesse’s dad, but there was a time when he’d been a lot more than that. That time didn’t even feel real anymore; the time back when he still was Mr White, before he turned into Heisenberg and the Devil and scarier things on top of that. There was a time when Jesse would have mourned the days they spent out in the desert with the RV and the chemistry. He couldn’t say the desert was their happy place anymore. No, the desert was the place where Walter White had let those men put Jesse on his knees and put a gun to his head...where he had given them the nod to shoot. He would’ve stood in the desert and he would’ve watched Jesse die...same as he said he watched Jane die.
Jesse wondered if he should have pulled the trigger and watched him die too. He had a hundred reasons to do it, but he never could have shot that evil old bastard enough times to feel like he’d got any justice - for himself or for all the others. Jesse wondered if his biggest mistake was leaving the gun. That day on his knees in the sand, looking up at the blue sky...Jesse had been ready to die then. He’d been prepared for it, more prepared than he was for everything that happened to him after. If Jesse had just kept the gun, he’d have another choice here; a choice that might be hell of a lot easier than going on the run...
Jesse sat in the car for a long time, staring at the keys on the dashboard and at the setting sun beyond the window. His throat burned and his head pounded and he was already starting to feel sleepy again. Jesse remembered asking Mr White what would have happened to them if they hadn’t built that new battery. Mr White said within a day or so they’d have fallen asleep and from sleep they would have slipped into comas and soon after that they’d have stopped breathing. Jesse wondered if that was the way they should have died all along, out there in the RV with the crates of Blue Sky before anyone else got hurt. It could have all ended out in the desert. It could have been perfect...a perfect moment to die. Jesse understood now. He finally got what Mr White had meant when he’d said all that shit. It wasn’t that he wanted to drop dead. It was that he had lived too long. He’d seen too much.
Jesse sat in the car until nightfall, waiting for his coma. But when the stars came out Jesse’s heart stirred again. He decided he really did need a drink.
It was sometime after midnight that Jesse was on the road leading back into Albuquerque, struggling to find a rest stop that would be open in the wee hours of morning. After a long thirsty search, he pulled up the car alongside a Dennys, its neon sign beaming at him like a reassuring smile. Jesse didn’t have any money, of course, but he made a fast beeline for the bathroom and spent a good ten minutes sucking on the cold tap. When Jesse raised his head from the sink, he caught a brief glimpse of his pale haggard reflection in the mirror. He looked away quick, like his eyeballs had been burnt. Jesse crept back into the cafe which was thankfully near empty with only a skeleton staff barely awake at the tills. He still thought it’d be better if he didn’t hang around. He marched towards the door and froze as he spied half a mug of stone cold black coffee and a piece of cold dry toast abandoned at one of the empty tables. Jesse knocked back the coffee in a single swig and he pocketed the toast. He had a bad feeling this might the closest thing to a meal he’d get for a while.
Jesse climbed back in the car and decided to risk the radio once more. They were playing music now. Late night love stations, real corny torch songs. Jesse almost switched it off. Then there came a repeat airing of the latest local news.
“...police investigating the Albuquerque meth lab massacre are searching for a black 1978 Chevrolet El Camino registered to Todd Alquist, one of the bodies identified at the crime scene. The missing vehicle is believed to have been taken by one or more of the drug gang’s associates who were presumably fleeing from the machine gun fire. Police wish to warn the public that the driver of this car may be armed and should be...”
Jesse turned the radio off so he could concentrate on not having a heart attack. Fuck the police were working this case fast. Well, the Great Heisenberg was involved so Jesse supposed the FBI had come in and were helping the local PD turn over the evidence, speeding it all up. But shit, the car was the only advantage Jesse had. Come first light he’d probably have police helicopters bearing down on it.
So he was screwed, he was boned, unless...
Yes. There was still time. He knew where to go.
~*~
It was close to 3am when Jesse pulled up at the gates of old Joe’s junkyard. He didn’t have the energy to climb the fence so he got on his knees and burrowed beneath. After slithering through the tiny trench he’d dug, Jesse spat the sand from his mouth and he marched towards the off-white trailer that served as both Joe’s office and residence. He banged on the door. A minute later Joe appeared in his robe and slippers.
“Hey man, I’m sorry to wake you, I...I need a favor.”
Joe just squinted at him. “Do I know you?”
He shifted nervously. “Yeah...it’s Jesse Pinkman.”
Joe’s eyes widened. “Jesus H Christ. Yeah...I remember you. Walt White’s little friend, right? I thought it said on the news a while back you were dead?”
Jesse shrugged. “Well, I’m not.”
“I see that. Good for you.” Joe smirked at him and then frowned again. “Hey, wait a minute...were you caught up in that business with the machine gun? The big shooting at that compound out of town...you know, the place they found your old partner?”
Jesse nodded, since it seemed Joe was itching to hear all about it.
“Yeah, yeah...” said Joe, “It said on the news the gate had been mowed down. Police figured at least one person got away. So that was you, huh? You’re the one that got out alive?” Joe’s smile returned. “Well, good for you.” He winced a little. “I guess...”
Joe suddenly seemed suspicious of Jesse’s visit to his lot. He took a step out onto his porch, his eyes locked on something he’d spied over Jesse’s shoulder.
“Aw, Christ...” He raised a finger. “Is that what I think it is? That the car?”
Jesse swallowed. “Yeah, um, I’m sorry...I was thinking that...”
Joe raised a hand. “Stop talking. Stop talking now and get that thing in here.”
Jesse didn’t waste any time following instructions. Joe unlocked the gate and Jesse drove the car through, parking it behind the tall mountains of scrap metal, safe from outside view. Jesse got out of the car to find Joe staring at it hard, rubbing his forehead.
“So is it possible I could like...sell it to you?” Jesse attempted. “Or trade it, I mean. You can give me anything, man. Any hunk of junk you got lying around. I don’t care. I just need a car that the cops won’t be looking for. I need to get out of town...”
Joe laughed. “Yeah, I expect you do. But I’m not exactly in the market for a car connected to a mass murder at a meth lab. And I haven’t got anything to trade you anyways. I had a bit of a closing down sale yesterday afternoon. I’m shutting up shop here. All of my working cars are with Clovis now. They’re all gone...” Joe seemed to notice Jesse’s face fall and he tipped his head at him, sympathetically. “You got any money?”
Jesse closed his eyes. “No. Nothing...”
“Sorry. I don’t think Clovis goes in for charity.”
“Couldn’t you, like...strip it for parts?” said Jesse, his desperation growing. “And then give me some money for the parts? It’s...this car’s all I’ve got.”
Joe was already shaking his head. “No time. This vehicle’s one very hot bit of evidence. It’s got to destroyed, toot sweet, same as we did your old RV...”
“You can’t! What...what’ll I do without wheels?”
Joe waved a hand, gesturing for Jesse to lower his voice. “Hey...calm down, son. I’m trying to do you a favor here. And I’m only doing this favor because I like you...” Joe raised his finger again, pointing it right in Jesse’s surprised face. “The kid with the magnet plan, right? Yeah, smart kid. I like you.” Joe slapped Jesse on the shoulder and nodded to the machine behind him. “Come on now. Help me get it in the crusher...”
Jesse trusted that Joe was making the right call here, even though it would make him leaving town ten times harder. That said Jesse didn’t feel much as he watched Todd’s Chevy getting crushed to a small metal cube. But then Jesse hadn’t felt much when he was crushing Todd’s windpipe either. It wasn’t like the time he had to watch the Crystal Ship being ripped apart in metal jaws. His heart had become a lot harder since then. Jesse helped Joe finish up the job then followed him back to his office. There were a lot of bags and boxes packed into his reception. Joe ushered Jesse inside and he began to dig through them.
“Like I told you,” said Joe. “I’m shutting up shop and I mean permanently.” He shrugged. “I’ve been meaning to get out of town for a long time now. I knew the day had to come, but I’ve been dragging my heels. Hearing about the return of our mutual associate...I guess that was the wake up call I needed. Hey, tell me something...all that lab equipment they found at the compound. Is it the same portable gear I built for you?”
Jesse cringed. “Yeah, yeah it is.”
Joe nodded. “I know it’s doubtful they’ll trace it back to me, but you can’t be too careful. I’m taking White coming back on as a sign that I ought to just disappear, like a fart in the wind.” Joe looked back at Jesse and spread his arms. “It’s my retirement day, kid. Tomorrow I’m getting picked up by this guy who’s gonna set me up with a new identity, if you can believe that.” Joe shook his head in wonder. “He’s said he can move me to a whole other town. Somewhere out in the country I’m hoping...somewhere quiet.”
Jesse nodded and forced a smile. It took every last shred of dignity he had left not to burst into tears and to beg Joe to take him along. But Jesse knew that even begging wouldn’t do him any good. By the sounds of it old Joe was using Saul’s vacuum repair guy. Jesse had already blown his one shot at getting out of town that way. Jesse was actually surprised to learn that this mysterious disappearer man was a real thing. He had been sure that red mini-van was just another trap Mr White was setting; a plan to make Jesse disappear in a very different way.
“I’ll be honest,” Joe continued. “This guy’s services don’t come cheap. I can only just afford it with the little nest egg I’ve built up and the jobs that I did for you and your partner make up a large sum of my savings. So here, let me give you something...”
Joe held out what looked like a small tool kit. Jesse frowned.
“You ever hotwired a car?” asked Joe. “I haven’t got time to give you a tutorial. Suffice it to say in this little kit you’ll find a screwdriver, a Slim Jim, wire stripper and whatnot....” Joe checked his watch. “It’s just coming up to 4am. You got a few good hours before most folk are gonna be awake. So you take the north road into town and you’ll come to a real shitty neighborhood. The cars you find there won’t be alarmed. It’s the best place to steal one. The police will come looking for it eventually but they won’t be hunting it like that black Chevy.”
Joe pressed the tool kit into his hand. Jesse shook his head.
“I...I can’t,” he said.
“Sure you can!” Joe encouraged. He snatched a notebook off his desk and began scrawling on the first clean page. “Here, I’ll write you a little cheat sheet if you're not familiar with the process. Other boys I’ve loaned this kit to have picked up the gist of it pretty quickly.” Joe gave Jesse the notebook and tapped the side of his head. “P.M.A. my friend. Positive mental attitude. Like I said, you’re a smart kid. You’ll make it.”
Jesse was grateful for the vote of confidence. He just didn’t know how to explain to Joe that while he might be capable of stealing a car he was really trying not to commit another crime here. Christ, how could Jesse explain to the crooked old junkyard guy that he had made this cosmic deal with God or the universe or whatever that if he got to escape from the compound then he was gonna be a good guy from now on?
He couldn’t explain it, so he didn’t try. Instead Jesse just took the tool kit with another forced smile. Joe did some more rooting through his lost and found box and he fished out a hooded jacket and a pair of knitted gloves which he also handed to Jesse.
“Here, take these as well. It’s just stuff people left behind in cars that they gave me. Make sure you put on the gloves. You don’t want to leave any fingerprints in this town and you best keep yourself covered up till you’re a good distance away. You don’t look like that old mug shot of yours they were flashing up on the news a while back, but...” Joe looked Jesse up and down. “...you don’t exactly look inconspicuous either.”
Jesse nodded, slipping on the gloves and the coat and raising his hood.
“You want some free advice?” said Joe. “Don’t go knocking on anyone else’s door. You might think you’ve got friends in this town, but the locals are going nuts over this meth lab story. Even if there’s someone you think you can trust it’s just as likely they’ll roll on you for a little of the fame and glory. Just concentrate on boosting a car...”
Joe’s face crumpled into a grim smile that told Jesse that he wasn’t going to be one of those people rolling on him. Jesse felt a pang of guilt as he tried to remember if he’d said anything about Joe’s yard when he had spilled his guts to Schrader. It hardly mattered now since Todd had taken the tape and Joe was getting out of town. But Jesse had forgotten that he even had any friends in the world. It still meant something to him.
“Anything else I can do?” asked Joe.
“I, um...” Jesse looked to the floor. “I’m hungry.”
Joe sighed and turned to open up his near empty fridge. He fished an egg roll, a half pack of salami and a few slices of processed cheese out of the back.
“I’m sorry we ain’t got time to share a beer and catch up,” said Joe, handing Jesse the food which he quickly stuffed into his pockets. “I mean that sincerely...I don’t know what happened to you, kid, but...I can tell it wasn’t anything good.”
These words were enough to get Jesse shuffling towards the door. He didn’t mind taking charity but he wasn’t ready to face any kind of scrutiny about what had been done to him. He was down the trailer steps and halfway towards the gate when Joe suddenly called him back.
“Hey, wait up...there’s something else I should tell you,” he began. “Maybe it’s something you already know. But if you don’t know, then...I’m thinking maybe it’s something you should know.”
Jesse halted and stared back at Joe in confusion.
Joe shrugged. “Maybe it’s just something I need to get off my chest.”
“What are you talking about?” Jesse asked him.
“The last job I did for your old partner,” said Joe. “When was what? Almost a year ago now, I think. He wanted me to crush a car for him. Well, actually he didn’t come himself. He sent this young guy towing the car. This kid tells me that he’s Mr White’s new partner and that the vehicle he has with him best not be found. And so he pays me to destroy it. I only got a quick look at the car, but I saw that the headlights were smashed in, the driver’s side window was broken and there’s blood splattering the front seats.” Joe shook his head. “I didn’t ask any questions. I didn’t feel safe asking any questions...that young guy gave me the creeps. But I could see what had happened. And I knew whose car it was.”
Jesse didn’t need him to go on. “Mike...it was Mike’s car, right?”
Joe nodded. “Did White ever tell you he did that?”
“No, he never told me.” Jesse shuddered. “But I knew.”
“I’m sorry,” said Joe. “Like I said...that was the last job I ever did for Walt White. And I’m not proud of the part I played in that. Looking back...that should have been the time that I got out of town. I should have just up and left. A few capers with giant magnets, okay...but it all went too far, you know?” He sighed. “But I’m old and set in my ways. I wasn’t ready for a change. I’ve always liked this town...lived here all my life.”
Jesse wasn’t looking at Joe anymore. He was staring at the glimmering street lights ahead, the glow of the town that Jesse liked a lot too. He hadn’t ever wanted to leave the ABQ...no matter how many times Mike had said it was the only smart thing to do. Jesse’s cheeks were wet again but at least the shadowy folds of his hood drew its curtains around his tears. After a moment, he felt Joe’s hand on his shoulder, gently ushering Jesse towards his gate.
“Good luck, kid,” said Joe. “You have a good rest of your life, alright?”
And with that, Jesse was on the road into town, clutching Joe’s tool kit and the notebook to his chest. Part of him just wanted to drop to his knees and start screaming again. But he wasn’t out in the desert anymore. If he screamed now, there were people in nearby houses who would wake up and hear him. No, he couldn’t start wailing over this now and Mike wasn’t his dad either. Jesse had always known that Mike was dead and how he had died, though it still hurt to be told so...why did Jesse have to be right about the worst things? And why hadn’t Jesse realized he was right until it was way too late?
“I’m sorry,” Jesse said softly under his breath.
He didn’t know who he was saying that to either.
To be continued...