Bang, Mike

Azazel's Domain

Mostly for fanfiction

Regeneration Part 2
Bang, Mike
It was warm and dark in Jesse’s room. He lay curled beneath his layers of blankets, awake but immobile. The door opened and the room a dim streak of light entered.

“Jesse,” Mr. White called softly. “Why are you in the dark?”

Jesse peeked from under the covers as Mr. White opened the curtains, flooding the room in bright sunlight. Jesse retreated back under his blankets.

“No, no,” Walter cooed, slowly peeling the blankets back to reveal Jesse’s face. “Come out. You promised me one day.”

Jesse squinted against the brightness, but slowly unfurled his limbs and climbed out. Soon, Mr. White was bustling abut, putting Jesse’s personal items into a gym bag. Panicked, Jesse reached for the bag and grabbed the handle. Mr. White turned to give him a look, which Jesse shied away from.

At length Mr. White said, “You’re right…it’s only one day. I’ll only pack one day of clothes okay? In case you want to stay the night.”

Jesse doubted he’d want that, but he allowed Mr. White to pack a pair of jeans, boxers and a shirt for him.

“Is there anything else you need?” he asked.

Jesse felt like a child being asked if he wanted to bring his teddy bear, and Jesse might have wanted that…if he had one.

“What about this?” Walter asked, unplugging Jesse’s iPod from the wall. “We’ll be driving and you might be waiting around a bit. We’ll take it in case you get bored.”

Jesse nodded and Walter gently guided him out the door. The lady at the desk smiled at him. Jesse’s group leader came down to the lobby and shook Mr. White’s hand before turning to Jesse.

“Good luck, Jesse. Give it a chance, okay? And no shame if you come back.”

Mr. White gave the group leader a disdainful glare and led Jesse out by the hand.


Seeing the miles f open desert ahead, Jesse already missed his flowery home. The dirt was beautiful, ranging in shades from reddish-brown to sandy tan with interesting rocks and plateaus jutting up to the bright blue sky. It was nice and peaceful if Jesse could ignore the fact that they were speeding past it. He missed the softness of grass and soil beneath him and the bright colors of his tiny corner of the rehab’s garden.

“I wish I could have gotten out of work for you today,” Mr. White said in a falsely casual voice. “I tried to, I really did, but our last batch of the week will be finished today so it shouldn’t take long. Besides, you’ll get to meet my boss today. And Mike, you remember Mike? He’ll be there too. Won’t it be nice to see them?”

Jesse nodded absentmindedly, not really processing what had been said.

“So,” Walter said, awkwardly blundering through the silence. “Is there anywhere in particular that you want to go today? Anyone you want to see?”

Jesse shook his head.

Mr. White didn’t seem too disappointed about that. He probably had the rest of the day planned down to the second.

Gale had made some coffee and was sipping patiently as he waited for Walter to return. In a few 2.5 hours the batch would be complete and Gus would be coming down to check on the product and the well-being of his chemists. The door above opened and there was the comforting clang of footsteps on the metal platform.

“Good morning, Walt-“ Gale started, smile frozen on his face as he realized that Walter was not alone. A small frail fellow was trailing behind him, following so closely that it seemed they might be attached, back-to –chest.

“Oh…hello,” Gale said awkwardly, watching every synchronized step the pair took down the spiral staircase.

“Good morning, Gale,” Walter said with a wider grin than Gale had ever seen on his face. “I know this is short notice, but we have a guest today! This is my…”

Walter paused, searching frantically for a word that encompassed all that Jesse was to him and how much he meant.

“…Jesse,” he said at last, finding that the name alone was somehow sufficient.

Gale’s heart fell to his feet, but he clung to the remaining shambles of his smile and extended his hand.

“Hello, Jesse. I’m Gale.”

The young man, Jesse, stepped back as if Gale had threatened to hit him and inched behind Walter’s back until he vanished completely from sight. Gale stood there frozen, astonished, and a bit creeped out. What was wrong with him?

“It’s okay, Jesse,” Walter coaxed, as if this grown man was a child. “Gale is a very nice person.”

Gale’s heart floated a bit at the compliment, but he was still unsettled by Jesse and Walter’s closeness. Jesse stepped out from Walter’s shadow again, but did not extend his hand. Embarrassed, Gale lowered his own hand.

“Not to be rude…” Gale said softly. “But…why?”

“I’m looking after him today and I couldn’t very well leave him home alone.”

“Well, I suppose you couldn’t,” Gale replied uncertainly, looking at Jesse’s nervous blue eyes. “But here? I mean…”

“Oh don’t worry. I’ve spoken to Gus already. He said it’s fine.”

“Alright…But what will he do? Sit in the break room?”

“Actually, I was thinking he could watch and help with a couple of things.”

“What kinds of things?” Gale asked a little too quickly.

“Oh, check some numbers, help lift trays, break up the product, and clean up with us after.”

“But…I do those things.”

“Yes, but there’s always room for help.”

“I guess…”

“Good, come on Jesse, let’s suit you up!” Walt said cheerfully.

“There are only two suits,” Gale interjected.

“He can wear you’re spare. I think you two are close enough in size.”

Before Gale could protest further, Walter gently nudged Jesse away towards the lockers.


Jesse felt oddly at peace jotting down numbers on the clipboard. It felt familiar and safe. The equipment was large and shiny, not as pretty as his plants but nice to look at. Mr. White allowed him to touch a few things, press some important looking buttons, but mostly he just took notes. Still, Jesse had a basic understanding of what was going on. Even with all this new machinery, Mr. White moved with a smoothness, a certainty of an artist knowing just how to achieve the effect he wanted. Cooking was still an art.

The cook was soon over, and Jesse was allowed the honor of breaking the ice with a fuzzy looking hammer. The sheet of crystal was glassy and even. It was a beautiful shade of blue that took Jesse right back to his garden. If only a flower could be so shiny and perfect, but then, Jesse thought, the petals might be sharp and it might not smell so sweet. He brought the hammer down, shattering it.


Mike walked behind Gus into the lab. He was here, as always, to make sure the shipments got out okay. Victor trailed even further behind the boss, mostly to move the bins out back. Down below, Mike saw the usual small yellow suited figures below. He saw two, but if he remembered correctly, there should be three today. Then, he caught a glimpse of orange behind a large metal tank.

“Hello Walter,” Mike called as they marched downstairs.

“Hello Mike, Gus,” Walter said, refusing to acknowledge Victor. “This is…”

He turned to gesture to Jesse, but realized at last that the younger man wasn’t behind him.

“Jesse, come out. There’s someone you need to meet.”

Jesse Pinkman peaked out from behind the machinery. The 25-year-old blond was even smaller and frailer than Mike remembered. His hair had grown longer and spiked forward into the air. His blue eyes were so wide…so innocent.

Walter motioned for Jesse to come, and he did, in quick nervous steps until he stood very close to Walter.

“You remember Mike?”

Jesse locked eyes with Mike briefly, more sad than frightened. Clearly, he associated Mike with the death of his girlfriend, Jane Margolis. Mike found himself unable to look away even after Jesse did.

“And this,” Walter gestured grandly. “Is my employer, Gus Fring.”

Mike watched Jesse dare to raise his eyes for all of two seconds before looking back at his feet. Walter smiled uncomfortably.

“He’s a little shy.”

“That’s quite alright,” Gus said with an easy smile of his own. “How did he do today?”

“He did quite well actually. Took some good notes, helped with some of the last steps. The equipment is all a bit new to him, but he did pretty well considering that.”

Jesse glanced over at Walter with a flicker of appreciation at the praise though it was promptly snuffed out when gunfire erupted above them. Mike immediately pulled out his own gun and turned to find Victor doing the same. Both looked up at the high ceiling.

“W-w-what’s going on?!” Gale stuttered.

“Guard the elevator!” Mike shouted at Victor.

Mike jogged to the hotline on the wall, quickly dialing the next-in –command.

“Trouble at the lab,” Mike told him. “I don’t know how many. Bring at least half to be sure. No they aren’t in the lab yet, but I suspect they’re on the way.”

Sure enough, there was banging on the door above them. The geniuses apparently hadn’t thought to steal a key. Mike hung up and took a position that he could aim at the door from and still have cover.  He gave an observatory glance around the room. No one was visible. That was good.

The idiots at the door continued to bang and shoot away at it. That door was several inches thick of reinforced steel. They wouldn’t get through before reinforcements arrived, and the lift Victor was guarding was well-hidden. This continued for a good ten minutes, but soon there were shots and the banging stopped. The hotline rang and Mike left his cover to answer.

“All clear,” Mike called into the lab as he hung up.

Like Mice, the others appeared around the room. Gus and Gale walked out from the break room. Walter appeared from behind the stack of barrels, but walked over to some other metal equipment.

“Come out,” Mike heard Walter whisper.

As he rounded the corner, Mike caught sight of Walter kneeling down by the machinery. Mike couldn’t see Jesse, but he knew he was there.

“Jesse, it’s alright,” Walter soothed. “It’s okay…they’re gone now. Come on out.”

“I want to go home,” Jesse replied in a trembling voice.


“I want to go back! Take me back now!” Jesse pleaded.

Walter sighed and leaned forward, arms outstretched, hugging the scared Kid. Then he let go and walked over to the others, who had all been watching this scene and listening intently.

“I should…get him back,” Walter said, defeated.

“Give us a few minutes,” Mike said. “I need to check out what’s going on up there for myself. Then I’ll call you up.”


FIC: Pictures of You
Bang, Mike
“There’s no entry wound.”


“Entry. Wound. There’s nowhere that the bullet actually went in,” Jesse said, staring intensely at the cellphone screen.

“Look, this isn’t a photoshoot. All we have to do is flash this in front of his face and he’s gonna start singing like Whitney Houston.”

“Come on, yo! It’ll take like ten seconds to snap it again,” Jesse said, getting on the floor and dipping his fingers in the blood.

“Suit yourself, Pinkman,” Hank said. “Just hurry up.”

Jesse smeared the blood in a concentrated circle on the other side of his head.

“How’s it look?”

“Fine! Can I take the damn picture already?” Hank asked.


There was a click.

“Hmph, what do you know…it does look better.”

“Can I see?” Jesse asked.

“I’m not taking it again,” Hank snapped.

“Just let me see it,” Jesse said, rushing over to see the screen. “Yeah, it looks good.”

“Glad you approve,” Hank said, “Now stay put until we get back.”

“Hey wait!”

“What now?” Steve Gomez asked.

“Give me the phone for a sec,” Jesse said, holding out his hand.

“What for?” Hank asked suspiciously.

“I need you to call my girlfriend.”


“No listen! I think he might try to use her to get to me! I need to tell her to go on vacation or something. She shouldn’t be at that house alone. She has a kid.”

Jesse could see a flash of something in Hank’s narrow eyes. He and Agent Gomez exchanged an equally skeptical look. Come on, yo, you know what he’s capable of. You know what he might do.

“What?” Jesse demanded.

“Put her number in. We’ll call her on our way out,” Hank said, handing over the phone.

Jesse’s fingers worked like lightning. He entered not one number but two. The second typed into the “to” bar for the picture of his brains being blown out. Merry Christmas, motherfucker, Jesse thought, remembering the picture of Mr. White in a Santa Clause suit.

“We don’t have all day!”

“Just let me type her name in, Jeez,” Jesse said, hitting send. “Alright.”

He gave it back to Hank.

“Her name’s Andrea. Warn her okay?”


Jesse watched from the window as Hank and Steve drove off. He’d be long gone before they could get back.

Walter was surprised by his burner phone beeping. He wasn’t supposed to meet Jack for another hour. Maybe one of Saul’s guys had found him. He opened his cellphone and dropped it as if it had burned him. There on the screen was a picture of Jesse lying on the floor with bits of brain and blood oozing from his head. How could this be?! Walter hadn’t even finished ordering the hit. Todd! Walter seethed. He stormed out of the car wash, past his befuddled son and worried wife.

He swerved on the road like a mad man, driving straight to the compound. The men outside of it raised their eyebrows.

“Hey, dude cool it!”

Walter slammed his car door shut and attempted to run past them. They held him back.


“Little early ain’t it?” Jack asked, striding out coolly. “Something wrong?”

“I hadn’t given you the details yet! This isn’t the way I wanted it to go!”

“Chill out, Sparky. The way you wanted what to go?”

Walter tore his arm free and pulled his cellphone from his jacket.


Jack leaned in and squinted at the picture, whistling.

“I take it that’s Pinkman?”

“YES,” Walter spit. “That’s Pinkman. Care to explain what the Hell is going on? I thought we’d be going over the details today!”

“Wasn’t us,” Jack shrugged, looking around. “Any of you off Pinkman?”

The guys around him shook his head. Todd looked dense and confused.

“Well, if it wasn’t you then who was it?!” Walter hissed.

“Beats the Hell out of me, but from where I’m standing it looks like you got lucky. You got the job done without it costing you a cent.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Well, what is the point? Because like we said, we didn’t have anything to do with this. Maybe I’m missing something but isn’t he the one you wanted dead?”

Walter’s entire body and face contorted in agony. This was most definitely NOT what he had wanted.

“Hey, why don’t you come in and sit down. You don’t look too good. And since you’re hear we might as well talk to you about the favor we’d wanted in exchange for Pinkman.”

Walter barely comprehended what was being said and allowed himself to be half carried into the compound.

Jesse debated whether or not he should go to Andrea’s house. Would she be safer with him or staying where she was? If Mr. White had laid a trap for him there, surely it would have been put off by now. What with him being “dead” and all. He tried to imagine a life of them all being on the run together but he couldn’t. Brock needed to go to school and be safe. He shouldn’t have to live with paranoia and fear. But Jesse couldn’t leave without saying goodbye, without telling them how much he loved them. He crawled over the fence to their backyard and knocked.

Andrea peaked through the window and Jesse could swear he saw the point of a knife. Their eyes met and she dropped it, rushing to the backdoor.

“Jesse?” Andrea asked even as she wrapped her arms around him. “Why are you sneaking around? Why didn’t you come to the front door?”

“I don’t have a lot of time. I just…is Brock home?”

“No, he’s still at school,” Andrea said, leading Jesse into the house and shutting the door behind her.

“Right, good…that’s good.”

“Jesse, talk to me. What’s wrong? You look…”

“Andrea…I have to go away for a while.”

“You’ve been away.”

“I know but I mean…further away…for a longer time and…Listen, people are gonna call. They’ll say that you’re in danger from a guy I used to work with. You should be fine now though, ‘cause he thinks I’m dead.”

“You aren’t making any sense,” Andrea said, her eyes wide, concerned and confused. “Are you high?”

Jesse’s heart stung and he looked her in the eyes and spoke more calmly, firmly. “No. So I need you to listen really carefully. Some DEA agents are going to call. They’ll tell you to look out for strange men because I’m involved in a case. You shouldn’t have to worry, because the guy that’s after me thinks I’m dead. But don’t unlock the door for any strangers, even if they say they know me, especially if they say I’m their friend. You remember Mr. White?”

“The old guy we had dinner with?”

“Yes. You cannot trust him. Don’t let him in the house. If he stops by, call the police.”

“And tell them what? My boyfriend’s friend stopped by? I’m not gonna live like a recluse, Jesse.”

“He’s not my friend, Andrea…He poisoned Brock,” Jesse said, voice and heart breaking.

“What are you talking about? Jesse, the doctors said-“

“The doctors said it was Lily of the Valley. I know. And it was that, but Brock didn’t eat some berries or anything, Mr. White poisoned him. I don’t know how he got it to him, but he did.”

Andrea looked disbelieving for a moment, but Jesse could tell she was really trying to understand.

“Just trust me. Do you trust me?”

“You know I do.”

“He’s dangerous  and you can’t let him know that you know. You can’t report it. We have no evidence. Just don’t let him or Saul in the house.”

“Saul Goodman? Your lawyer?”

“He was in on it.”

Andrea covered her mouth with her hands. Jesse had a sudden revelation.

“He still…he still brings you the money, doesn’t he?”

Andrea nodded.

“Take it.”

“But you just said-“

“It’s my money, Andrea. They won’t hurt you if they don’t know you know. If you start shutting Saul out, then he could figure it out…”

“Are you leaving town?”

Jesse nodded.

“Then we’ll go with you!”

“That’s no life for Brock.”

“I’m his mother! I get to decide what kind of life Brock has!”

“There isn’t time anyway. This will be the first place those DEA agents look for me. I’ve stayed too long already.”

“Give me a place to meet you.”


“Jesse! I’m not staying in the middle of this with a bunch of people we can’t trust. If it’s too dangerous for you to be here, then it’s too dangerous for me and Brock too!” Andrea said, her body trembling.

Jesse hugged her tight.

“I’ll call you…not too soon. Those agents at least will be watching your house for a while. You’ll be safe. I have to go now…I love you, Baby. And Brock too.”

Jesse could here Andrea crying softly. He hated himself for making her cry.

“We love you too. Don’t forget about us, okay?”



Walter didn’t have the will or the power to resist teaching Todd how to cook. He was so broken over the loss of Jesse that he was hardly thinking at all these days. Some part of him was certain that once Todd had learned the entire process, Jack would have him killed. Yet he was always permitted to return home to his family between cook lessons. Todd was a painfully slow learner, and Walter had to work hard to cover his tracks or Hank might tail him here. Skyler knew what was going on and was assured that it was the only way to keep them safe. She couldn’t leave him if she wanted to now. The line had been drawn in the sand with Hank and Marie and Skyler had found herself on the wrong side of it. She had to stick it through until the end.

Every moment of every day, Walter had Jesse in the back of his mind. Jesse’s name, Jesse’s smile, Jesse’s soft hair beneath his fingers…He would never know what happened to him. No body had ever been found, and aside from himself he supposed no one else was really looking. He did the one thing he could do to honor Jesse’s memory. He gave Saul more money to give Andrea and Brock. He couldn’t bear to look at those two himself, see the last two people that Jesse would ever love, but he knew Jesse would always want them to be taken care of.


Andrea waited for months for that call. She never wavered in hope. As Jesse had warned, she had gotten a call from the DEA agents warning her that she and her son might be in danger. Then they had stopped by, Agent Shraeder and Agent Gomez. She began to notice cars continuously parked down the street with a clear view of her house. No strangers ever showed up at her doorstep though. Walter White never showed his face.

Andrea was reluctant to let Saul into her house, but she had to keep up appearances like Jesse said. She forced a smile and was cordial, but every time the lawyer spoke to Brock Andrea wanted to stab him. How dare he talk to her baby knowing what he did!

One faithful night, she got a call from a blocked number and answered immediately.


“Jesse? Jesse where are you? Can we come see you now?”

“Yeah…I’m living pretty far away and…and if you don’t like it here we can always move somewhere else. We can move anywhere you want.”

“We can live anywhere so long as we’re with you, Baby.”

So it began. Andrea had their clothes and Brock’s toys packed before the Sun rose. A slow move might have been more inconspicuous but the slower they moved, the more questions people would ask. It was better for everyone if she and Brock simply vanished into thin air. She had to inform her grandmother though. As hard as she was on them, Andrea knew her grandmother loved them both and would miss them. 

To Walter’s amazement, Jack cut him loose without a hassle. All it took was Todd’s percentage to reach a measly 83% and turn the product blue. It was a cloudy blue, not the striking blue of Jesse’s eyes or Walter’s crystal, but it was good enough. He waited patiently for a move to be made on his house, but none ever was. Skyler was relieved that it was all over again, but the loss of her relationship with Hank and Marie left her cold and detached.

Saul came by to get his car washed one day and naturally Walt pulled him aside and demanded to know what he was thinking.

“I’m getting my car washed! You do understand that famous people need their car washed?”

“There are several other car washes in the area!” Walter coughed, shaking his thin frame.

“Alright you got me, look. I thought you ought to know that the Kid’s family moved.”


“Not really moved so much as went ‘poof’ into thin air. She left a note saying I could sell the house and all its furniture and that she was going to live with a boyfriend and start fresh.”

“A boyfriend?” Walter coughed. “Jesus, Jesse’s grave is still fresh and she’s off with a boyfriend?”

“Well, to be fair, she doesn’t know that he’s dead and they’ve been broken up for almost a year now.”

“But still,” Walt said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “Jesse could have done better…”

“Yeah well, that’s debatable.”

Walter glared at him.

“What? Okay! He could have done better…”

“Get your car washed and get the Hell out of here, Saul,” Walter growled, stomping back inside.

Brock came out of the gates of the airport running.

“Brock, slow down!” Andrea called after him, both of their carry-on bags on her shoulders.

“Jesse!” Brock yelled, running into Jesse’s outstretched arms.

“I’ve got him!” Jesse called back, lifting him up but only briefly. “You got so big!”

“You did too!” Brock said with a grin and wide brown eyes.

“Naaah, that’s just the beard,” Jesse said.

“You look like a lumberjack,” Andrea teased, reaching out to touch it.

Jesse met her eyes with nothing but love. She seemed taken aback by it, as if she thought Jesse might have lost interest by now. He wrapped his arms around her, causing the bags to slip to the floor, but Andrea let them.

“I knew you’d call for us,” Andrea whispered in his ear. “I knew you would!”

“Yeah…God, I’m sorry I took so long,” Jesse said, kissing her cheek. “I didn’t know if they’d stopped watching you or if anything had happened and…I didn’t have anywhere for you to stay for a long time either.”

“We would have managed.”

Jesse shook his head. “Even what I’ve got now, isn’t all that impressive.”

“That’s okay, Jesse. All that matters is that we’re together now. And this time it’s gonna stay that way right?”

“Right,” Jesse replied with a grin. “Okay, let’s get your stuff.”

“So, when’s he putting a ring on that finger?” Andrea’s new best friend Gabrielle would ask.

“When we stop paying our bills month to month I guess,” Andrea would jokingly reply.

“Don’t rush them,” Heather, their neighbor to the right, would chide. “You two are happier than most married couples I know.”

A year had passed, and although Andrea and Brock weren’t comfortable with the climate at first they settled in. The house they lived in was smaller than the one Andrea and Brock had left behind, but nobody noticed the difference in size with all the warmth inside it. Brock was making friends at school and in the neighborhood. Jesse had taken up a job as a local carpenter. Andrea became manager at a local restaurant. Despite their new friends and busy lives, they all sat down together for breakfast every morning and for dinner almost every night. There were also more than a few nights of movies and videogames at the Cantillo residence.

It was during one of these videogame nights that there was a knock on the door.

“Must be the pizza,” Andrea said, clicking the “jump button” frantically.

“I’ll get it,” Jesse said, climbing over the wires and heading for the front door. Out of habit, he hadn’t even looked through the peephole. He swung it open with a grin which was frozen on his face as he recognized the thin but extremely hairy man before him.

“Hello Jesse.”

Jesse stood there frozen. How was this possible? How had he found him? Why?

“Do you want me to go in, or are you stepping out?”

Jesse stepped out, closing the door behind him. If he had to die, then at least it would just be him.

“Don’t hurt them,” Jesse demanded.

“I’m not here to hurt them,” Walter coughed. “I’m here to talk to you.”

“About what?” Jesse asked with a scowl.

“About what?” Walter repeated. “How about the last year that you let me think that you were dead? How about the nights that I stayed awake mourning you!”

“It was what you wanted, wasn’t it? What, you gonna stand there and tell me that you didn’t have a hit on my head!”

“I never put a hit out, Jesse. You sent that picture-“

“Before you could?”

“I wouldn’t have gone through with it!”

“You poisoned Brock. You would have gone through with anything to save your own ass!” Jesse snapped.

“Alright, shh, okay! Calm down!”

“You don’t want me to make a scene before you shoot me?”

“What?! Jesus, Jesse! I’m not here to shoot you!”

“Then what are you here-“

The door creaked open. Walter and Jesse both froze, turning to look at it. Andrea stuck her head out. Her mane of wavy hair flew in the wind.

“Jesse? What’s going on?” she asked, turning on the porch light.

She squinted at Walter, not recognizing him at first. Then her eyes widened.

“I’m calling the police!”

“Andrea, no!” Walter hissed.

“Andrea! It’s okay, Honey. Just lock the door.”

“But Jesse-”

“Just close it and lock it, okay? Have the phone ready.”

Andrea looked around, half expecting some gunman to be in a bush, making Jesse say these things. She then looked from Jesse to Walter.

“Okay…” she murmured. “If you hurt him, I’ll kill you!”

“Duly noted,” Walter said dryly.

Andrea closed the door and Jesse heard the lock latch.

“What the Hell are you here for?”

“I came to see you.”

“I can see that. Why?”

“I’ve got maybe a month left and I wanted…I wanted you to know that I’m sorry.”


“I did an awful thing Jesse. I hurt you, and that little boy, to save my own skin.”


“I did it to save myself, Jesse. Not to save you from Gus. Gus would never have hurt you. You were his chemist.”

Jesse felt an odd feeling. It was some mixture of satisfaction and sadness. He nodded solemnly. This was the most straight-forward Mr. White had ever been with him.


“Nothing’s okay.”

“You’re right. It’s not…” Jesse agreed. “But at least you said so.”

“There’s something else too.”

Jesse felt his muscles tighten nervously. He should have known. There was always some kind of horrible trick whenever Mr. White was involved.

“I killed Mike.”

Jesse blinked. It wasn’t the blow he’d been expecting but it was one all the same. He didn’t have time to brace himself, so he felt his eyes begin to water.

“I know.”

“You knew already. I just…I thought I’d give you the closure.”

Jesse resisted the impulse to punch him in the face. He was right after all. He did need the closure. The inner knowing and never having confirmation had been hard on him, especially when he needed Mike the most.  He just nodded.

“Anyway…you seem happy here. Good luck, son,” Walter said, stepping off the porch and trudging through the snow in the front yard.


As he struggled back to his car, Walter felt the pressure of his gun against his side. He had known that he would never be able to do it. He had always loved Jesse too much.


FIC: Sooner
Bang, Mike
Only a week had passed since Hank’s murder. The wound was still raw and Walter paced his haven of a stone prison beneath the vacuum repair shop. He had threatened Saul for a list of names, but the lawyer simply wouldn’t give. As Ed led Saul away Walter thought bitterly that he didn’t need him. An alternative to hitmen soon presented itself to his mind, but he needed to be in town for it and the police were simply too hot on his trail. He had a choice. He could go with Ed now to his “new life” only to return weeks later or he could stay put and finish what he started. He decided to stay put. He asked Ed to make a call for him and was dropped off way out in the New Mexican desert, at a familiar looking little hovel with no other houses in sight.

Within three days, Walter’s delivery had arrived along with some instructions from the internet. He passed the time singing old tunes as he put together the reality equivalent of a death ray. Pleased with his work, he called Todd and demanded to see the new lab under the pretense of finally instructing the young man how to properly cook Blue Sky. Todd was oddly reluctant to take the offer. Jack took the phone and told Walter there was no point in continuing to run a meth lab with $80 million in the bank.

Walter was not at all dissuaded and instead called Lydia, who he knew would have her ass on the line if Jack and Todd had really given up on cooking. It didn’t take long to get an agreement out of her and he was given a time and place to come.
Walter had suspected from the start that this would be a death trap, but he hadn't expected to be separated from his car alarm. Panicked, he attempted to talk his way out of it, pulling everything from thin air he could manage. His family, his kids, bullshitting until the grip on his arms was loose enough that he could dive for the keys on his pool table. He clicked the button before he even hit the ground. None of Jack’s crew had time to pull a trigger. Walter wished he could have watched, get the full effect of his revenge, but he had to stay low to the ground, as low as he could lest he be killed by his own invention.
The gun fired for a full minute, but in truth that was thirty seconds too long. The only ones left alive were Walter and Jack. Todd, who had had the misfortune of being closest to the wall, was sliced clean in half by the spray. Walter got to his feet and picked up a gun.

“Wait,” Jack rasped. “Hold on a minute.”

Walter knew why he should, but he grew impatient seeing Jack put a cigarette in his mouth and light it.

“How about I tell you where that money of yours is, hmm? That make us ‘bout even?”

“Where is it?”

“Just…help me up…I’ll show you.”

Walter glanced down at Jack’s bullet-ridden body.

“I stand you up and everything inside of you is going to spill out. You’re a dead man, Jack. You just haven’t realized it yet. Now where the Hell is my money?”

Jack didn’t even glance down, oblivious and arrogant. He seemed to think himself invincible. His smugness infuriated Walter.

“You ain’t gonna see a penny of it for all your life if you don’t help me sta-“

Walter shot him in the head. No matter. He would find it himself. They weren’t the brightest of men. It was all probably somewhere nearby for easy access. He tucked his gun away and started to search the compound. He stumbled first upon the lab. It was roomy but extremely crude compared to the one beneath the laundry. The equipment was spotless though. Maybe Todd had finally learned the importance of an uncontaminated lab. Walter couldn’t help but be entranced, all the same. He loved working in a lab…even now that it had cost him everything. His family, his wealth, his….he shook his head. All of that was gone. He searched the lab from top to bottom but there wasn’t a cent in it. With a sigh, he left to return to the compound.

As he walked outside, the sound of flapping caught his ear. There was a large tarp stretched over the ground. It wasn’t too conspicuous but it certainly wasn’t a clever disguise. His money was probably there. Walter untied it and as it flew off he recoiled at the smell that was released. It stank of feces, urine, and musk. Holding his nose, Walter peered inside and saw not stacks of money but a small human figure curled at the bottom. It couldn’t be.

“Jesse?” Walt called down, horrified.

The figure below made no move at all.

“Jesse? Is that you?”

Still no movement, surely whoever was down there was long dead. As he recovered from the shock, he reminded himself that Jesse was the reason that Hank was dead and that this was precisely the fate that Walter had wished on him as he was carted off by Jack’s crew. If he had died so horribly down there, then it was his own fault. This line of thinking left Walter incredibly uneasy and still choking down his horror and sadness. Why was he so distraught if this was what he had wanted?

Slowly, he got to his feet and started to walk toward the compound. Among the mangled bloody bodies of the Nazis, Walter searched for some clue as to where his money might be. He ended up pulling stacks of it out of jackets and pants. Some of it was bloody, some of it was torn, but he could find no sign of where it might be in its entirety. Pinching his forehead and thinking this was all for not, Walter sighed and headed back towards his car. He looked again at the now uncovered grate where he was certain Jesse’s body lay and he returned to it.

“Jesse?” he called again, with the same measure of concern and distress. “Jesse, I’m leaving now.”

He unlatched the grate and pulled it open with a heavy cough. Looking around, he found the silver ladder and slid it down. All the while, he watched the unmoving body.

“You can…you can come up when I’m gone if you want…”

Walter stayed for another full two minutes. He told himself that he ought to go, that if anyone had heard the shooting and reported then the cops could be seconds away. Yet he felt compelled to stay. He had to know the truth. He had to know if this man below was Jesse and if he was dead. Reluctantly, Walter climbed down into what felt like Hell. The stench threatened to overwhelm his weak lungs. He approached the figure and through the bars of orange light shining down recognized Jesse’s mangled face. His eyes began to water as he looked beyond the swollen eye and deep cuts. This was Jesse. His hands and feet were shackled together. He was lying so fragile and still. Walter shakily reached to check for a pulse at his neck. To his amazement, he could feel his blood pumping strong, rapid even. Walter shook him by the shoulder hard.

“Jesse! Jesse!” he called desperately.

Jesse groaned loudly in pain and opened his undamaged eye. He looked up with an empty stare at Walter. Walter was flooded with relief but also with anger.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” Walter hissed. “You were obviously awake!”

“Just hurry up and kill me,” Jesse whispered.


‘That’s what you’re here to do right? To finish the job because they didn’t.” Jesse said matter-of-factly, but something was missing in his voice. There was no fear or anger or anything really.

“No,” Walter replied coldly. “I’m here to get my money and then I’ll be on my way.”

“It’s in the compound’s basement. There’s a door behind the TV.”

“Behind the TV?” Walter repeated. Jesus, they were stupider than I thought.


“Okay then…” Walter said, standing up and walking back to the ladder. He paused when he realized that Jesse had not followed. “Well? Are you coming?”

“No,” Jesse said, his voice an echo.

“Stop your sulking and get your ass up here!” Walter seethed. “I haven’t got all day!”

“Andrea’s dead.”

Walter froze, confused. He must have misunderstood.

“No, that’s not-“

“They murdered her on her porch. They shot her right in front of me,” Jesse said hollowly. “There’s nothing up there for me.”

Walter worked his jaw around, trying to find words. That couldn’t have happened. Jesse must be mistaken. Walter hadn’t told them to do anything to the girl or her son. At last, Walter spoke with a dry throat.

“And Brock?”

“I don’t know…they said he’s alive, but they’re liars.”

“Well…we’ll find him once we’re out of here. Come on, Jesse. Let’s go,” Walter said, walking over and grabbing him roughly by the arm. Jesse was of no help at all, allowing himself to be dragged briefly before beginning to actively resist. “What the Hell is the matter with you?! I’m trying to save you!”

“They’ll hurt Brock! They’ll hurt Brock!” Jesse whimpered.

“They’re dead, Jesse! All of them! Come on and see for yourself!”

But Jesse broke loose and scrambled back to the wall of his cell.


Walter tossed his gun at him.

“In case you ever get the balls to just finish yourself off!”

He started up the ladder and was surprised to hear a metallic click behind him. He whipped around, thinking that Jesse meant to shoot him, but instead he saw the gleaming barrel pointing at Jesse’s own forehead.


There was a click but no bang. Walt could hear Jesse pulling the trigger again and again with no effect. Maybe the gun was out of bullets or maybe it had jammed. Either way, Jesse was outraged by its ineffectiveness and flung it against the wall. He then began to writhe and shake, banging his head against the cement.

“JESSE!” Walter cried out, climbing back down the ladder and kneeling at his side. “JESSE STOP! IT’S OKAY! STOP!”

Jesse shook and sobbed loudly as Walt protectively cradled his head so he couldn’t further injure himself.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay!”

If the cops were ever going to come, then they would have been there by now. So Walter took all the time he needed in that wretched place to hold his suicidal former partner. Jesse finally lacked the energy to continue and went limp in Walter’s arms. Even his sobs had died down to whimpers and groans.

“Andrea...” he mumbled. “Andrea…”

“Look at me, Jesse,” Walter said softly, using his hands to tilt Jesse’s face upward. Walt could feel all the cuts on his face with his fingers. “You are all that I have…everyone else is gone. My wife, my son, my daughter, my brother-in-law and sister-in-law…they are all gone. I only have you. I’m sorry for what I did to you….I was angry about Hank and I took it out on you. I had no idea he would harm Andrea, you have to believe that. Jack is to blame for all of this and he’s dead.”

Jesse shut his eyes and groaned loudly. Walter wasn’t sure if that was in agreement or not.

“Jesse, look at me,” he reminded gently. “You and I, we’re going to leave this place and find Brock. The three of us are going to go somewhere far, far away and be together. Always, okay?”

Jesse nodded, eyes still teary and pained.

“Good, that’s good son. Now stand up. Come on, stand up. Let’s go.”

Bang, Mike
One second, that’s how quickly the darkness came and went. All Walter remembered of his death was falling, then suddenly he was awake, sitting upright watching Jeopardy with his son. The answer fell from his mouth as if it had been sitting there and not sent down from his brain. What was happening? This was all so familiar.

Skyler was in the kitchen, calling for dinner. Walter began to search for the remote through no will of his own.  Jeopardy had gone off and now the news program was starting…news of a certain 11-year-old killed by gang violence.

Yes, Walter knew this night well. Every day in his solitude, he looked back and marked this night as the one where the bulk of his troubles began. In the days that he hated Jesse Pinkman, he regarded his actions this night as his fatal mistake.

Skyler asked him to turn it off, complaining that it had been on all day. Walter’s brain was working faster than should be humanly possible. For some reason he’s been sent back here, to this night. He’s been given the option to change the course of his future. He has been given the choice…to let Jesse die.

His heart rebelled furiously at the thought, but his mind was brutally wrestling it into submission.

Think Walter! Who ruined your relationship with him? Who jumped ship when business hit its first speed bump? Who screwed up every chance of a new life that you so generously offered to finance? Who refused to even try to understand that everything you did, you did for his safety and your own? Who betrayed you to the DEA? Who brought Hank to that place on that terrible day? JESSE PINKMAN. If you let him go right now, none of that will ever happen. You can continue your work with Gustavo Fring. Your family will never be in any danger. Hank will never know.

Walter sat at the table on autopilot. His heart still thundered in his chest: Jesse, Jesse, Jesse.

But wait, another voice said, an older and steadier one, the newer Walter, age 52. This is my fault. I blackmailed Jesse into cooking. I tracked him down and I used him…even to the point of abuse in many ways. He’s out there tonight because of all he’s lost so far and yet there’s so much more ahead...

So spare him that pain! Heisenberg hissed. Remember his future of suffering, and leave him to his swift death now.

No, there are other things I can change. Other things that will allow him to live and spare him that future.

What if this is your only chance to change the course? What if you can alter this moment alone? Would you do it all again?

There was a long silence in his head. He saw his wife and son for the first time in the past two or three minutes. They were smiling and chatting, oblivious to the choice Walter was facing. He couldn’t hear them exactly. Their words were a comforting blur to his ears. Probably so as not to distract him from his choice.

Yes, I’ll do it all again. All for him.

He got up and ran to the door while babbling some hurried excuse. He was worried that he had wasted even a second more than was necessary to save Jesse’s life. A strange calm overtook him as the dealers came into sight. He felt not the fear that he had the first time he’d done this, but a cold hatred that these men dared to try and kill Jesse. That choice was his alone to make and he had decided unwaveringly that that would never happen. At full speed, he ran crashed his car into them, one went under and one went over.

Young Maid
Bang, Mike
It was a day like any other, or so Mike thought. Having thrown his morning DEA tails, Mike drove to the Vamonos Pest headquarters. Though he had parked three blocks away, he entered through the garage and walked into the main office where he saw something unexpected.

“About damn time,” Jesse mumbled, turning around.

Mike dropped his bag of cash on the floor. His jaw almost hit the floor. Jesse was standing in the middle of the office wearing an extremely short maid-outfit. It was black and white with all the proper frills and the top was cut into the outline of breasts though Jesse had none. Mike was shocked by how appealing this look was to him. Jesse was staring at him with wide blue eyes.

“Mike,” he breathed, backing towards the wall. “You…got here kinda early.”

“Yeah,” Mike said, still stunned. They stood in silence for a moment, until Mike started to regain his senses. “Kid, what in the Hell are you doing?”

“Mr. White,” Jesse said, blushing and looking down. “I mean, I’m not doing Mr. White right now! Not that I would! It’s just…I lost a bet and he…this is what he wanted so.”

“Oh,” Mike breathed, still in awe.

“This is stupid!” Jesse declared, speed-walking to the garage. “I’m going home!”

“Kid, wait!” Mike said, grabbing his wrist.

Jesse stopped immediately at his touch and glanced at him.

“It’s not stupid. You look-“


“Sexy,” Mike said, quietly serious but still in awe.

Jesse gave him a doubtful look, but as the moment passed he seemed to realize that Mike meant it. He began to awkwardly shuffle his feet.

“You think?”

“Yeah…I do,” Mike said, stepping forward, bringing their faces close.

“Mike…” Jesse whispered, but didn’t turn away.

Mike put his hands on Jesse’s waist, just above the frilly little skirt. The fabric felt rough, cheap, but Mike knew what was wrapped beneath it was valuable, priceless even. Mike walked Jesse back until the Kid was pressed against the wall beside a filing cabinet. He leaned forward and Jesse closed his eyes, but Mike went for the softness of his neck.

“Mike,” Jesse moaned quietly, squirming a little beneath him. “Mr. White’ll be here soon.”

“Well, we’d better be quick about it then.”

Mike’s hand touched Jesse’s leg and slid up to his thigh, pausing to see if Jesse would protest, but he didn’t. He slid higher, glad to feel the soft sleekness of Jesse’s skin, then his ass and…

“Jesse, are you wearing a thong?” Mike asked with a slight chuckle.

“Yeah,” Jesse replied, embarrassed. “He uh…wanted the whole package.”

And easy access, Mike guessed.

“Where’s the lube?” Mike asked.

“It’s in the third drawer, beneath the contracts.”

Mike pulled away briefly to retrieve it, then he was back pressing hard against Jesse. He moved to lube his fingers.

“You don’t have to,” Jesse said, looking down. “Mr. White wanted me to be…ready.”

“You’re sure?”


Mike couldn’t say he was disappointed. He started to lube his cock.

“Ahhh, Jesse. You in that outfit…” Mike moaned.  “You’re beautiful, Kid.”

Jesse gave a soft moan and kissed Mike’s lips. Mike finished lubing his cock and lifted one of Jesse’s legs, wrapping it around his back before moving the thong aside again. He pressed against Jesse's entrance.

“Mike please,” Jesse whined, breath hot against Mike’s neck.

“I’m here, Kid. Here it comes.”

He pushed in, feeling Jesse shake and gasp against him. It was a tight fit as always, but Jesse had stretched and was relaxed enough that it didn’t take long for Mike to get all the way in. Jesse’s fingers were on his back, gripping tight.

“How’s that feel, Jesse?”

“Good! So good! Mike, move! Please!” Jesse begged.

Mike didn’t need to be told twice and started to pull out and thrust back in slowly, angling around until he found Jesse’s prostate gland. Mike was glad that the office empty because they were having a hard time keeping quiet. Jesse was moaning from deep in his chest and Mike was breathing hard. This position was easier when he was younger, but he wasn’t with Jesse back then. Jesse’s standing leg was starting to shake and Mike realized that he’d have to lift that one too. He reached down and lifted it up, letting Jesse wrap it around.

“Faster! Harder, Mike! I can take it!”

Mike grinned, and picked up his pace. After all, Walter could walk in any minute and find them like this. For some reason, that made Mike happier. He thrust harder. The sounds Jesse was making might as well have been a song. It was so good to Mike’s ears, hearing Jesse make those sounds for him.

Jesse was nearing his edge. Mike could feel him hard against his belly. Mike reached a hand down and moved the tight thong so Jesse’s cock could breath. He gave it a good tug and Jesse came hard against Mike’s button-up shirt. Mike reached his hand back up to Jesse’s side. He was close too, just seconds away and he kissed Jesse with all his heart before spilling into him hard and fast.

They leaned heavily against the wall. Jesse’s legs slowly uncurled from Mike’s back and Mike let him down easy so his feet touched the ground. They heard a car pull into the garage and scrambled apart. Mike went to the water cooler and started to clean his shirt off. Jesse adjusted his thong and skirt.

Walter entered and gave Jesse a sexy smirk.

“Well, look at you,” he said lowly, licking his lips.

“Hello, Walter.”

Walter turned, noticing Mike for the first time.

“Mike…what are you doing here?”

“You want to get paid today, I assume?”

Walter worked his jaw, unable to say ‘no’ but obviously displeased at Mike’s presence.

“Alright,” he sighed. “Let’s get on with it.”


Exact Reverse Opposite
Bang, Mike
A pair of birds soar above him and Jesse is certain. Jesse is certain that they will be the last living things he will ever see. Jack asks if they’re good to go and Mr. White, Walter, says nothing. The birds are out of his sight now, so Jesse shuts his eyes, ready to leave this world. And there’s a shot, but there’s no pain. A painless death, Jesse thought. He was lucky. But then there was another shot and another and he could still feel the ground beneath his knees, he was still breathing, breathing so hard that he hadn’t heard the Nazi guys yelling.

He opened his eyes, and it was all still there, the desert and sky stretching before him endlessly. Mr. White was there. His jaw was hanging slack and his eyes were staring beyond Jesse. Jesse dared to turn around and he found three bodies laying a few feet behind them, blood dripping around their heads. He looked to his side and found another on the ground and still one more running. That last one dropped and Jesse heard dirt scuffle behind him. He turned, Mr. White was running and Jesse remained on his knees, staring as if this was a horror movie. Then Mr. White went down, but it looked more like his leg had given out than he had died. Sure enough, a loud pained yell erupted from the older man. He was alive. Jesse remained where he was, having lost all sense of self-preservation one minute ago.

Mr. White began to crawl. He was using his legs and arms and slithering on his belly. Jesse stayed put, watching. He heard a distant engine roar and turned to the West. A dust cloud was rising rapidly and some small vehicle was heading straight for them. Jesse had no idea of who it might be. He rose slowly to his feet, but his legs were threatening to give way. The car stopped and one man got out. A man that Jesse had been certain he would never see again.

I must be dead.

The bald head, his height and build…Jesse’s mind worked frantically to comprehend what was happening and how it was even possible. The Sun shone heavy on this man’s back, as if he were carrying it with him. It wasn’t until Jesse saw his eyes, their whites and irises, so much bluer than the meth he cooked, that Jesse accepted that he was seeing the impossible.

“Hello, Kid,” Mike said, with a small smile though his face showed his concern. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Mike…” Jesse whispered, slowly stumbling towards him. “Mike?”

“It’s me, Jesse,” Mike reassured, stepping forward and opening his arms.

Jesse clambered into them and hugged him back tight.

“Not too hard, Kid…My gunshot wound.”

“Mike!” Jesse breathed. “You’re here.”

“That’s right, Kid. I am. I heard about what was happening down here and I couldn’t stay away.”

Mike looked away from Jesse, staring with hatred over to his left.

“And I’m not done yet.”

Mike gently pushed Jesse away and walked over to the inching Walter, who’d made it to one of Jack’s trucks and was desperately tugging at the handle. Jesse looked on, mystified, as Mike easily lifted Mr. White up and flung him to the ground at Jesse’s feet. Mike pressed a foot on his neck.

“You got anything you want to say to my Kid here?”

Mr. White’s eyes rolled up and stared at Jesse with such fury that Jesse stepped back. After a few moments of heavy breathing, the former chemistry teacher snarled and hissed, “Yes…”

“Well, say it. We’re losing daylight,” Mike said matter-of-factly.

“I let Jane die.”

Jesse’s eyes widened and though he didn’t understand how that was possible, he felt his heart drop into his stomach.

“I was there, and I watched her die,” Walter spat. “I could have saved her but I didn’t.”

Jesse dropped back to his knees with his head reeling and his heart screaming in his chest.

“Son of a bitch!” Mike shouted, kicking Walter in the ribs so hard that Jesse heard one crack. Mike reached down and gripped the howling meth cook by the collar, pulling them up so their faces met. “You don’t have cancer, Walter. You ARE a cancer! What happened to your brother-in-law down there is YOUR fault, not Jesse’s.”

“He’s a RAT,” Walter spit to Mike’s face.

“I don’t give a shit!” Mike shouted. “He wouldn’t have done what he did if you had used your goddamn sense and not poisoned his girlfriend’s CHILD!”

Mike decked him, smashing his glasses into one eye. He punched again, purposely breaking his nose. And again, and again. Mr. White’s face was turning into a bloody-pulp.

“Mike,” Jesse said softly, watching from a distance. “Mike.”

Mike held his fist back an inch from Walter’s unrecognizable face. He looked at Jesse. Even though his eyes were filled with rage, Jesse knew it was for Mr. White and not for him.

“Mike…can we just go? Please?” Jesse asked softly, his voice breaking.

“He hasn’t apologized.”

“I don’t want his apology,” Jesse said honestly, staring emptily down at what was left of Mr. White.

“He hasn’t paid for anything he’s done to you.”

Jesse looked down at Mr. White, then glanced over at where his brother-in-law was buried.

“Yes, he has.”

Mike sighed. His Kid had such a good heart.

“Alright Kid, let’s go,” he said, motioning for Jesse to follow him to the car.

If Mike had it his way, Walter would have been given a bullet the same place he’d wanted Jesse to catch one, but for Jesse’s sake he wouldn’t go that route. They climbed into the car and Mike sighed again, looking over at Jesse.

“Kid, we’re gonna need to pick up your girlfriend and your son.”

Jesse looked at him, dazed and confused.

“I know you probably don’t agree with me, but I think Walter’s a real danger to them at the moment. If he can’t get to you or me, he’ll get to them. They should come with us.”

Jesse nodded slowly and asked, “What about Kaylee?”

“I talked to her mom before we got here. She’s not happy, but she’s ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

“Will we…will we all live together?”

“Probably not,” Mike said, looking more than a little unhappy about that fact. “But I won’t leave you if you don’t want me to, Kid.”

“I don’t want you to.”

Mike and Jesse looked at each other for a moment, just drinking each other’s presence in. They’d been apart for only a few months and already so much had gone wrong.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you’re okay too. And I'm going to do my damnedest to keep you that way.”

Mike started the engine and they drove far away, neither looking back at Walter. Jesse swore he’d never look back at him again. 

Bang, Mike
Author's Note: Shorter than my usual :) Reserve the right to add ;)

Being out was a mountain off of Walter’s shoulders, truly it was. In the last few weeks, he had had breakfast every morning with his family. He had watched over his daughter Holly at the house and done a few days’ work at the carwash. All of it was very normal but not at all monotonous. Every task and sensation felt new to him, fresh. As the novelty faded, however, he became acutely aware that the emptiness he’d experienced while cooking with Todd had not vanished. In fact, it seemed to be growing like the tumors rooted in his lungs except this was in his heart. He spent his hours alone pondering at the yawning ache in his chest. It felt physical, and yet Walter knew it must be entirely in his head.

He was standing in line with his groceries. He’d gone alone because Skyler had to work and Jr. was at Louis’s. There were about five people ahead of him in line, and the store clerk was busy reswiping a box of cereal for the fifth time. Walter rolled his eyes and once their rotation was complete, they began to wander over the nearest shelves. They rested on a row of bright yellow-green bags, Funyuns. Walter’s heart gave a particularly fierce ache and his mind immediately recognized the source. His life may very well be in order, everything in its place, but the missing piece was ruining the puzzle’s picture. He needed to find it, and put it in its place.

Without a second thought, Walter abandoned his grocery cart and marched out the sliding doors.

King to a God
Bang, Mike
The city’s skyline dazzled before him.  A jewel in his treasure chest, a castle in his kingdom, that’s what this place was. From the window of his royal suite Walter could look down upon his people. He may not see them, but he knows they’re down there milling about with the ignorant civilians. How he longed to wake those civilians, to reveal to them who it was that ruled the land they lived in.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Walter turned to his left. He hadn’t heard Gus get out of bed. The kingpin was like a panther, a predator, graceful and silent. Walt couldn’t deny there was a beauty to him. That’s what had drawn them together and lured Walter into his bed.

Walt had never seen himself as a bottom. With both Elliot and Jesse he’d come out on top, but there was an aura about Gus that prevented Walt from even thinking that it was a possibility. Oh, it was incredible to imagine of course. He’d never had such an orgasm as he did when imagining himself on top of Gus, moving in the darkness, no not in darkness…lights on, with mirrors everywhere so he could see Gus’s face…see himself riding him.

But it was all an impossibility, a dream of a dream. Gus was standing beside him, unbendable. Even dressed in a robe his presence dominated Walter’s very existence.

Moments like these absolved Walter of any shame he felt in being on the receiving end of their sex. Walter was a man, but Gus….Gus was more than a man…more than a king even. He was Godlike, the way he handled business, the way he obliterated the Cartel.

“Have you made your decision yet?” Gus asked, eyes trained on the window.

Walter stretched his jaw. He’d been mulling it over for days now, but this night, this moment, solidified it.


“And it is?”

“That I want to be your partner. In business, and…other things.”

“I’m glad,” Gus said, looking nothing of the sort.

Bang, Mike
Author's Note: They tried to get me out of Rehab but I said Noooo Noooo Noooo

The air smelled sweet, the kind of sweet that people want to inhale forever. Jesse pensively sat in his own private corner of the Centering Garden, lost in the sweet smell. The breeze was light, tickling his face. The Sun shone down heavily over the vibrant colors of the flowers around him, but Jesse was safe, sheltered beneath the leaves of a thick branched tree. Jesse was safe, just a little lost. His hands were earthy from planting his Pestemon Blue Lips. He liked it though, the way he smelled of soil. It was a different kind of dirty, a better kind. Sometimes he imagined he was a flower too, that he’d just grown up out of the ground here and that he’d never had a human life at all.

“Jesse?” a familiar voice called.

Jesse turned his head, staring blankly in the direction of the voice. Jesse’s group leader, a bespectacled hairy blond man who had a tendency to wear brown clothing, walked around the bush Jesse had been sitting behind.

“There you are,” he said with a grin. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I want you to join me for lunch today, is that okay?”

Jesse nodded absentmindedly, but stayed sitting in the dirt.

“They’ll stop serving lunch soon,” the group leader said, offering his hand. “Let’s go.”


A familiar sadness slowly flooded Walt’s chest as he drove back there, back to the place where he’d left Jesse over a year ago.

“We’re gonna take you some place nice and safe.”

Jesse is safe, Walter reminded himself for the billionth time, but that did nothing to relieve the ache in his heart and the buzzing in his mind. Jesse might be safe, but he wasn’t whole. Walter had remembered visiting him half a year before, convinced that Jesse was still mourning and that someday he would recover. He would smile again, laugh again, maybe even make a smart-ass remark about Walter being gay. But it’s been over a year and Walt hasn’t seen Jesse do any of those things since Jane died…No, before that even, since that dealer friend of his died. Jesse never recovered.

He will, Walter told himself. But that lie had worn thin. Every day Jesse remained in that place was a day of both of their lives slipping away. Jesse refused to leave. He was spending every dime of his half on his stay there, and that saddened Walter even more. All of their work together, everything Jesse had accomplished, was being dedicated to an indefinite stay in rehabilitation.

Walter was driving up for maybe his fiftieth visit. He used to come more often, in the early days, the days where there was so much hope that the old Jesse would return. So much had happened since then. Walter had taken a job working in Gustavo Fring’s meth super lab with a new and somewhat irritatingly perfect lab assistant, Gale. Hank had been severely wounded in an attempt on Walter’s life. Skyler had spun a lie about gambling money so that Walter could pay for Hank’s medical bills.Walter had finally given his wife the divorce papers she was so desperate for. The most pressing development in Walter’s life had been his discovery that the Cartel was not only gunning for him but for Gus’s entire operation, which led to him joining his employer on a trip to Mexico to rectify the situation. It had almost cost him, Gus, and Mike their lives but they made it back alive, thanks to him of course, and it had been smooth sailing ever since….aside from Hank’s relentless investigation of the lab.

In the last two months, Walter had reduced his visits to biweekly affairs. He really couldn’t bear to see Jesse more than that; it was too painful. In the backseat he had supplies for Jesse: fresh clothes, some blankets, and a few of his former-partner’s favorite snacks. He’d been bringing Jesse these things for a while now. It lightened the burden on his shoulders to do it, even though he wasn’t certain if Jesse needed these items at all.

He checked into the building and went up to Jesse’s room, a single because Jesse was such a long term resident. So he carried his box of gifts down the hotel-like hallway until he reached the most decorated wooden door on the hallway. It was covered with paper cut-outs of flowers and sneakers and little hand-shaped notes with words of encouragement for Jesse’s recovery written by addicts who had come and gone as was expected of them.  Setting the box down, Walt knocked.

Jesse opened it, looking as frail and shy as ever. His eyes were dull and only half-open. His mouth only twitched in a weak attempt at a smile.

“Hey, Mr. White.”

“Hello Jesse,” Walt said with a fake smile of his own, hoping to encourage Jesse into a real one.

It failed. Jesse only stepped aside so Walter could step in. Walter remembered the first time that he’d stepped into this small beige room with its dim lighting. It was so small that Walter thought of launching a complaint about how expensive this was. What were they paying for if not Jesse’s comfort? But Jesse never complained. Jesse barely ever spoke.

“So how are you?” Walter asked, still smiling.

Jesse shrugged, looking at the floor.

“No, really, Jesse, how are you?”


“No cravings?”

Jesse shook his head. Walter sighed.

“Jesse, sit down,” Walter said, placing a hand on Jesse’s back and gently guiding him toward the bed.

Touching Jesse was like touching air, Walt barely felt him at all and he was so easy to move.

“Jesse, I know we’ve had this conversation many times before…”

He paused, hoping to see Jesse roll his eyes or sigh in frustration. He got no response.

“Please look at me, Son.”

Jesse raised his gaze to meet Walt’s, but that only made it worse. Their emptiness ate at Walt’s soul.

“Jesse, you aren’t suffering an addiction anymore. You’re hiding away from the world. You’re hiding and it isn’t helping you heal,” Walter said, putting his hands on Jesse’s shoulders. “What happened to Jane was a tragedy. Truly it was! But, Jesse, it was so long ago.”

Jesse was unmoved. His expression had not changed. Walt touched his face. So soft…

“Listen to me,” Walter pleaded. “I’m not going to be around for much longer. My cancer is back…”

Fear flashed, bright and glassy, in Jesse’s blue eyes. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was something.

“Yes, it’s back and I’m dying. I won’t be able to keep che-“

Walter had the wind knocked out of him as Jesse practically tackled him. Jesse didn’t say a word, just buried his head deep in Walt’s chest and squeezed him. Walter, recovering from his shock, cradled Jesse in his arms and rubbed his back.

“So you see, Jesse,” Walter explained gently. “I need you to come back. I can’t die knowing that you’re still here, still afraid to go out into the world.”

Jesse shook his head in Walter’s chest.

“Please, Jesse. Come out of here…for even a day,” Walter whispered in his ear. “One day, Jesse. And if you don’t like it, you can stay here and I’ll visit you whenever I can.”


A Family Matter
Bang, Mike
Author's Note: Part of the Family series of ficlets

The only sound in the house was the steady tick of the grandfather clock and the occasional rasp of folding newspaper. Mike was the only one awake in the Cantillo-Pinkman-Ehrmantraut household. He sat at the kitchen table in his thick navy-blue bathrobe and read the newspaper between sips of his black coffee.

At least an hour of this stillness lasted before he finally heard soft steps upon the staircase.

“Good morning,” Mike said so as not to startle his company.

“Good morning, Mike” replied tired Andrea.

She was wearing her pajamas but had her robe draped over them and trailing behind her. Her hair was messy and her eyes were half-closed. Mike gave him a small smile. She looked like a sleepy child.

“How can you get up this early?”

“Habit,” Mike replied, sipping his coffee. “Did you sleep well?”

“Very well,” Andrea said, opening the fridge. “Just wish it had lasted longer. Do you want anything specific for breakfast?”

“No. Everything you make is delicious.”

“I’m starting to think that’s sarcasm,” Andrea said with a laugh. “You always say it.”

 “It’s always true.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. Andrea beating the eggs, and Mike flipping through the last pages of the newspaper. Soon the room was filled with warmth and the calming scent of maple bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast. As Andrea set up a bowl of Froot Loops for Brock, she sat at the table across from Mike. Her face was completely serious.

Mike put his paper down and laced his fingers together.

“Something on your mind?” he asked.

“Yeah, I….I sort of need some advice.”

“Well that’s what I’m here for…that and your scrambled eggs.”

Andrea laughed again.

“So what’s on your mind?”

Andrea’s expression morphed into the shyness that Mike had so often seen in Brock.

“My mother called…” Andrea murmured.

“Oh boy,” Mike said, bracing himself. Andrea had told him quite a bit about her mother and none of it was ever good.

“I know, right?” Andrea said with a flicker of a smile.

“What did she say?”

“The usual,” Andrea sighed. “That she’s clean and she broke up with her last boyfriend and she needs to send money to her so she can fly down and see us.”

“You sound less than thrilled,” Mike said dryly.

“Because she’s lying!” Andrea said, more frustrated than angry. “It’s just another ploy to get money out of us. I’m not even going to tell Brock this time. Last time, he was so disappointed.”

“Brock likes your Mom?”

“He hasn’t seen her since he was three. He just wanted to meet her. All the kids at his school were talking about how cool their grandparents were and…he has Mama, my Mom’s mother, but I had to explain to him that she wasn’t his grandmother.”

Mike nodded, understanding the situation.

“So what are you going to do? You gonna give her the money?”

“I guess I have to…I mean, she’s my Mom.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I don’t?”

“Nope,” Mike said firmly. “Especially not if she’s a negative influence on your life. The real question here is do you want her in your life?”

“I don’t know,” Andrea said, wrinkling her brow. “I mean…she wasn’t the best Mom in the world, but she kept me and Thomas alive and all…Plus we had a few good times when she was single and sober, which was almost never but it happened before so it’s possible it could again. So yeah, if she’s really better than yeah, I’d want her in me and my baby’s life.”

“And if she’s not?” Mike asked gently.

“I think,” Andrea said, fidgeting a little. “I’d send her the money anyway. We had some rough times, but I don’t want to think of her being cold and hungry on the street.”

“That’s because you’re a good person, Sweetheart,” Mike said with a warm smile.

“Thanks Mike,” Andrea said bashfully.

“Why don’t I help you out?”

“Help me out how?”

“Did Jesse tell you I’m a licensed P.I.?"

“Yeah, he mentioned it.”

“I can look into your mother’s situation, and, depending on how she is, bring her here to see you.”

“Oh Mike, I couldn’t ask you to do that. You’re in retirement.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. Besides, with Brock starting school and you and Jesse in your classes, I’ll take a quick trip to Chicago and be back within the week.”

“How’d you know she was in Chicago?”

“I’m a P.I!” Mike exclaimed with a laugh.

Andrea laughed. “You’re good.”


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