#brba imagines

[cappincooks]

𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲.

pairing: highschool!jesse pinkman x fem!reader type: slight angst, fluff topics: smoking, mentions of depression, overdose, and drugs

overview: to your surprise (and slight horror,) you find jesse pinkman screaming his lungs away in the go-karting place you were working in.

the magazine you were reading wasn't really keeping you fully entertained, it was more so there to keep you occupied to pretend that time was going by faster at work. but you found yourself harshly flipping the pages, frustrated that the office fan kept blowing it back.

it was a long, slow day at the go-karting place you worked at. well to be fair, you couldn't expect a go-karting business to be booming. not everyone is in the mood for small fast car racing—they have real-world problems to be worrying about.

"FUUUUUUUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK SHIT BITCH! FUCK YOU! EAT SHIT AND DIE! YEAH BITCH!"

jesus. h. christ. what the hell was that?

wanting to investigate further, you slowly peek your head out of the office door. to your surprise, it was jesse pinkman? you knew he was a nutcase to some degree, but this is a whole other level.

you weren't a goody two-shoes, and you're certainly not about to poop on someone's party, but you also needed him to quiet the fuck down or else bye-bye job.

setting your eyes on your box of cigarettes, you decided to light some up before containing the wild animal.

"hey! pinkman! i know you're having a blast but tone it down a bit!"

coincidentally, he was slowing down since his session was up. he looked at you, and got out of the kart with his hands in his pockets; eyes glued to the floor.

he looked really distraught. sleep-deprived even? ...is he good?

blowing out the smoke from your cigarette, you called out to him. "pinkman?"

surprised he even stopped in response to you, you try to ask him if he was fine.

"yeah, yeah. im good. sorry about the uh," he looked back at his go-kart, "the screaming."

once he finally faced you, you could see his face more clearly now. his eyes were bloodshot red. his eyebags could not be darker and more purple. plus, he was really fidgety.

not really good with words, you extend out your hand, a box of cigarettes on your palm. "you wanna smoke one... or two with me?"

-

"are you high out of your mind right now?" you mindlessly asked. remembering that you could be too direct at times, you apologized just as quick. "oh shit, sorry. i didn't mean to ask you that. well i did, but i didn't mean for it to be so straightforward."

jesse chuckled as he blew out the smoke from his nose.

to be frank, you were taken aback. the guy you're silently hanging out with right now is different from the jesse pinkman you knew when you see him in the high school hallways, or when he's smoking with badger and skinny pete behind the school.

"honestly yeah. im high as fuck out of mind right now. my life's just in the shitter hole. always has been." his eye twitches.

relating, you nod your head in approval. "oh yeah, amen dude. welcome to the club. my life has been a giant turd swirling around in an unflushed toilet for the past.. 2 years now?"

"jesus. that's one way to describe it."

"well someone's trying to be funny, mr. i-scream-my-lungs-out-in-a-go-kart-at-9-pm?" the both of you chuckled at your remark.

-

your neck was getting really sweaty since you guys were smoking outside, so you decided to put your hair up in a ponytail. minding your own business for a hot second, you didn't realize that jesse was looking at you.

"is the view good?" you were trying to lighten the atmosphere up a bit. to be honest, even though jesse was pretty easygoing, you always sensed something darker and heavier going on in his mind.

no response other than him quickly turning his head away from you, and a small 'sorry'.

you didn't really know why you cared a bit for him. it's not like you had a crush on him or something, but something always drew you to him, even at school. you never got the chance to talk to him though. well- until now.

fidgeting with your dangling earrings, you wondered if he remembered you from school so you asked him just that.

"hm." he made a sound, rather than actually answering. "yeah i guess i do. i see you around school, but that's about it. can i have another one?"

"for sure." you handed him another stick. "so more or less strangers, huh?"

he took a hit and nodded his head in response.

"you mind telling me the story behind all the uh, all the screaming back there? figured it's easier to tell me since we're strangers and everything."

you tried to steal a glance at his side, he seems calmer now.

"right on. well, my parents are fucking bitches man. they keep telling me to go to college and shit, but i just want to get high and live my life. they, they think that," he pauses to sarcastically laugh, "they really think they own me. bunch of pussies."

you sat, listening to him rant. it was pretty satisfying, actually.

"god! fucking assholes wanting to have a 'perfect family', well surprise!" jesse immediately stands up and holds his crotch which was, unfortunately, lined up right at your face. "you can suck THIS!!! perfect family my ass."

"okay, okay sit back down mister. you're not about to go hysterical again on my watch. plus, i don't really like someone's dick in front of my face- i save it til the second date." you patted the seat next to you. "though i get it, truly. parents are a bunch of assholes, AND college too. just because they get to finish college doesn't mean shit. they're not better than you."

"exactly! at least someone gets me. and it's not just that, they've always treated me like i'm some problem dog. they frustrate me so fucking much it's not even funny." you noticed jesse fidgeting with his fingers as he sat back down. "i would really kill for some weed right now though." his knees bouncing up and down, jesse staring at you as if you really packed grass for your lunch at work.

"how'd you know i have weed?"

"i guess we're not total strangers after all." he winked.

you were for sure enjoying his company, and you didn't mind spending a few more hours with him so you offered some back at your place instead. he agreed and waited for you to close up the go-karting place.

-

"so, this is me." the door creaked, revealing a dim living room.

"where your folks at?" jesse whispered, frantically searching for your parents.

you chuckled, "sleeping. come on, quietly."

as you guys reached your bedroom, past the creaking staircase, jesse shut your door slowly. raising his eyebrows and eyes scanning around your poster-filled room he asked, "yo, are you sure they won't get mad?"

you fixed your bed (putting shit in their respective piles), "they've caught me doing worse. we just have to keep quiet, and we're gold." you shrugged.

"right on."

"get comfy, i'll roll some up for us."

-

both of you were lying back first on your bed. it doesn't have enough space for the both of you, but you made do. you held that position for a good 5 minutes, enjoying the calm silence. though you decided to have some kind of fun, so you blew smoke on his face.

"you doing good over there, buddy?" you laughed heartily, looking at his profile.

he kinda looked good. well, he was coughing up since you blew some smoke in his face, but he still looked fine as hell. you guessed you just never noticed that til now. you gulped, trying to push this thought down, and fixed your eyes back at the ceiling.

chuckling and lightly nudging your body, jesse replied, "jerk." he propped up his pillow, and put his arm behind his head, exhaling slowly. "you have good ones, let me tell you that."

"glad you think so. about time i enjoyed them with someone." you admitted.

"you don't have anyone to bring over?" you shook your head. "ever?" you shook your head again. "i don't buy it yo. no way. you're like cool to hang out with, there's no way you don't have friends."

"that's just the truth. used to it by now. to be honest," you took another hit. "same time last year, or a little bit over a year ago maybe? i was losing my mind, and i mean losing my damn mind. i didn't care if my blood had too much alcohol in it, if i was overdosing, or high out of my fucking mind that i was close to touching jesus' clothes. i just wanted to-"

"die?"

you look towards jesse's direction. you see him already staring at you with wide, sympathetic but understanding eyes. like he knew exactly what you felt, down to a t.

not really used to personal attention, you remove your eyes from his and agreed. "yeah... die. one thing led to another, and now i'm doing better. at least, not worse." you finished off your little trauma dump.

it was a good thing that jesse understood. he understood that silence is better than empty, comforting words. what both of you have endured is way past words of encouragement.

from the ceiling, your eyes then trailed towards the window next to your bed, admiring the chilling night sky, the stars; then the moon. you were startled when something cold touched your pinky finger. slowly looking down, you see pinkman's pinky shakily making contact with yours. as if he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do.

you wrapped your pinky around his as a go signal, jesse then finally held your hand. you heard a loud exhale from him like he was holding his breath for a while.

looking up to get a better view of jesse's face, you saw him still staring at your bedroom ceiling. all that direct, heartstopping eye contact earlier, and not even once when it counts. you lightly smiled and stared at the ceiling with him. both of you holding each other's hands in one hand, and holding joints in the other.

[manicpixiedgoblin]

Nervous Young Inhumans Masterpost

Jesse Pinkman/OC/Saul Goodman

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

[manicpixiedgoblin]

Nervous Young Inhumans

Jesse Pinkman/OC/Jimmy/Saul

Chapter One

Halloween, 2004

"Hold still," she said, sitting between his crossed legs while he laughed. One of his hands on her waist, the other reaching behind her for the mirror where three lines were left.

She was finishing the eyeliner on him when he looked down behind her.

"Jesse!" she pulled away.

"What?" he kissed her, before putting the coke between their faces.

Ellie rolled her eyes and plugged her right nostril, grabbing the half of the straw they'd been using and snorting one of the lines while Jesse held them. He snorted the one next to it and set it down behind her again. Her legs were spread on both sides of Jesse's torso, their faces up close. She laughed and bit his shoulder.

"Now stop moving and let me finish this," she said.

***

2008

They'd been best friends in high school, and maybe something more, though it remained undefined. When Ellie moved across the country for college, they kept in relatively in touch. Kind of. Aside from him, she had no reason to visit Albuquerque. Her grandmother had died their senior year, and she'd grown up with her.

Now she'd been back for two months and she hadn't even let him now. She was working full time in the hospital, spending her weekends with the other doctors she'd met there, and pretending not to look for him in every face she met through the town. She hadn't bumped into his friends.

She'd visited his parents, who were happy to see her, proud she wasn't dating their junkie kid anymore, but was successfully finishing her surgerical residency. Though they didn't understand why she'd choose Albuquerque when any hospital in the country could've been a better choice.

It's true, there was nothing other than him keeping her there, and he wasn't even there. But even so, he was more than reason enough.

She was still in light blue scrubs when she pulled up at Jesse's house. Rather, his parent's house, the place she'd grown up calling his. From the passenger seat she grabbed the cookies she'd gotten as a thank you from a patient's family. Jesse's mom opened before she'd locked the car and ran out.

"Let me help you with that, sweetie!"

"Oh, it's really-"

"Diane? Is she here?" Adam called from inside.

"Hi Mr. Pinkman," Ellie called out while Diane took the cookies from her.

The two of them walked inside and she gave both of them a hug.

"Is Jake home?" Ellie asked.

"Yeah, yeah, he's upstairs, but he'll come down soon," Diane smiled, always fluttering, moving. She led the three of them to the dining room.

"Sorry I couldn't get changed before dinner, I finished my shift thirty minutes ago and just rushed over!"

"Nonsense! It's so good to see you like this! Isn't it, Adam?"

"Truly. We're so proud of you."

Ellie smiled. They kept talking while Mrs. Pinkman set the food on the table and called Jake down. The four of them sat down to dinner, for the third time since she'd moved back. She couldn't tell who was getting more from this, them or her. In either case, for all of them it was a substitute pleasure. What they all really wanted was the one person who none of them called.

"Well, rules are rules I guess," Diane was saying over dinner.

"Sure, rules are rules, I'm all for that," Adam replied, "but I'm telling you: you really shine on that oboe. You have real talent and I'm not just saying that."

Jake smiled proudly. "Thanks," he looked shyly at Ellie, who smiled back encouragingly.

"Do you like it then? The oboe?" Ellie asked.

"Uh, yeah. I think so."

"He's really talented," Diane insisted.

"Hey, uh, so how was soccer practice?" Mr. Pinkman asked, when the sound of the gate scraping outside made them all stop.

Ellie put her fork down, her heart raced. Diane and Adam looked at each other then back towards the sound.

"I think that was in our backyard," Mrs. Pinkman said.

The four of them stood up. Ellie moved faster than any of them and reached the door to the backyard, throwing it open while the whole family stood behind her inside.

"I'll check," Mr. Pinkman said.

Ellie walked down the flight of stairs, Adam behind her.

"Who's there?" he called.

She kept walking quietly, looking around. Her heart was beating quickly but she kept walking towards the lump laying in between the furniture.

"Get up," she snapped.

"Oh," she heard the relieved sighs behind her. She'd known from the first fucking sound.

"Shit," Jesse rolled over and looked up at her, "is this real?"

"Yes, it's fucking real. Get up."

He stumbled up, his foot caught on the lawn chair.

"Jesus," Ellie shook her head.

"El-" Jesse started but his mom cut him off.

"What are you doing here?" she shook her head, but unlike Ellie a small smile appeared on her face. The curse to being the parent of an addict is the codependence that never lets you forgive but also forces you to forget. You resent them, but you also love them to the point of madness, of wishful thinking and short-lived hopes.

"Hey mom, dad," Jesse tried to untangle himself from the chair, "I see you got new furniture," he looked back at Ellie, confused.

"I think I'm going, thank you for dinner," she said curtly, turning around.

"Ellie, wait," Jesse called but she gave a tight smile to both his parents and walked out of the house before he could catch up with her.

It wasn't until she parked her car outside the apartment building she lived in that she realized she could hear the blood flowing and her heart beating and she'd been crying on the drive home.

***

Diane must've given Jesse her phone number.

"For someone who doesn't want me dating her son, she's easily convinced," Ellie thought.

Thirteen missed calls since last night. It was a good thing they couldn't give him her address. Or was it a good thing? She didn't know how to feel. He'd clearly been high last night, sneaking into his parents house. Had he planned to knock or was he there to steal? She knew from him calling he was probably still there.

It was six thirty in the morning, he wouldn't be awake if she called him back anyways. Unless he was really coming down from something bad and was too tweaky to sleep. But she shook her head and put her phone away. She took a shower, packed herself some lunch and drank half a pot of coffee. Went through the motions of a normal day before work.

Didn't call.

Drove to the hospital, clocked in. Checked in on the patients, socialized with the staff.

Didn't call.

Lunch break. Surgery at 1:00. Surgery at 5:00.

Didn't call.

So went the day, Jesse's absence defining it as much as his presence.

***

Halloween, 2004

"Done," she smiled.

Jesse looked in the mirror smudged with both their breaths, flecks of coke.

"I look like a dick!"

"You look hot. Bowie in Labyrinth was my childhood crush."

"We've watched that movie like a hundred times, I know."

She laughed and kissed him, pulling his hair back and upwards.

"I should've gotten you a wig," she joked.

"Fuck you," he smiled.

She crossed her legs around his torso, pressed herself up to his chest. Nose to nose, her hands around his neck and his on her waist.

"I love you, dick," she whispered.

"I love you too."

He kissed her on the shoulder, on her neck, below her ear. He smiled before kissing her mouth, biting her lower lip slightly. They were constantly laughing against each other's necks, lips, biting and pulling each other's hair, childish, playful, the way they loved each other.

"We should get going," Ellie said.

"We should stay," he complained.

Her grandmother's apartment was practically hers at that point. She was living full time in the hospital now, even in between chemo sessions.

"What about Petey and Badger?"

"They'll manage."

"We're all dressed up," Ellie looked down at her white dress, nudged his made up face with her nose.

"I can fix that," he mumbled, pressing his face to her chest before starting to undo the laces of her dress.

Their senior year of high school she thought the world started and ended there, in that bed. Four years later and she still didn't know what else was supposed to be important to her.

[manicpixiedgoblin]

Nervous Young Inhumans

Masterpost

Chapter Twenty-Four.

If the accident hadn’t happened she wouldn’t have slept with Jess again - actually, she’d have slept with Saul that night, and continued refusing to acknowledge that her alleged friendship with Jess was just a thinly veiled cover for the fact she couldn’t picture life without him.

Though, admittedly, she couldn’t picture it with him either now.

Ellie had fallen asleep without taking any more pills, naked and content in Jesse’s arms. She woke up with the feeling she always had after things like this - the word shit and some vague satisfaction which remained despite the knowledge it was a bad idea.

She walked downstairs after quietly disentangling herself from Jesse’s arms - looked around for a coffee maker, but found only beer and lukewarm water. She drank the latter, disappointed. So coffee maker should be number one on her shopping list for him.

Why had she come over? He’d picked her up, right. The thing about benzos is memory turns to shit and is recalled like a dream had a few nights ago, in very dim light. She leaned against the counter as she drank and tried to remember everything, still only in her underwear and tank top. What had happened after they drove here? Had they planned to sleep together?

No, no - Walter had been here, right?

She was piecing this new element in with everything else when Jesse appeared at the door, something like relief flooding his features when he saw she was there.

“I thought you’d left,” his lips curled slightly upwards.

“No,” she smiled, “I, uh, you don’t have coffee.”

“No,” he smiled, walking up to her in his grey sweatpants, shirtless. “We can go to the Dunkin Donuts drive through, if you want.”

“Sure, yeah.”

“Or we could go to Waffle House?”

“Yeah, breakfast,” she looked at the gash on his head, back down at his eyes. “Let’s do that.”

Maybe over pancakes she could actually figure out the full picture of what had happened last night.

“I’ll get the keys and your pants,” he smiled, leaning forward and planting a kiss on her cheek. He walked out of the kitchen, actually half ran, and she stared behind him, her face shared between a smile and a concerned furrowed brow.

***

Over breakfast they were oddly quiet. Ellie’s eyes looked more aware than they had in days.

“So, uh,” Jesse said, “does anything hurt? Was I, um. I don’t know, I forgot-”

“It’s fine,” Ellie smiled a little tightly.

“Yeah, yeah. Good.”

They ate for a few seconds in silence.

“So I’m going to Mexico tomorrow,” he said after a while.

She tilted her head. She vaguely remembered the word Mexico, but the context was gone.

“Why?”

“What do you remember from last night?”

“Does Walter want you to kill someone else?”

“Uhh,” he gave a breathy laugh, “uh. That’s not why I’m going, it’s just - I’m teaching the cartel how to cook Mr. White’s recipe. For Fring.”

“Right.”

“To stop them from starting a fucking war.”

“Yeah. But you’ll be fine?”

“Mike’s coming with us.”

“How’s that reassuring?”

“It just is,” he shook his head.

They pushed their food around, had another awkward silence.

“I really am doing better, y’know,” Jesse looked up at her.

She looked into his eyes. She nodded.

“I know.”

“I, uh.. I was worried about you.”

“I know. I’m fine.”

“None of this should be your problem-”

“It is. I got involved. Regardless of you.”

“Well, no, if it weren’t for me-”

“Maybe then. But not now.”

“What does that mean?”

“It just is my problem now.”

There was another silence, which Ellie broke this time.

“Do you remember when we went to the aquarium on acid? In Santa Fe?”

“Course,” he half smiled.

“I hadn’t been back since the funeral, and I didn’t even think about it. We sat on the floor in front of the tank with the jellyfish, and I forgot my body and my past, and I remember thinking we were both leaving our selves and joining those bodies without organs, feeling the soft underwater movements and - what I’m trying to say is, all the things we think are relevant now, and all these times we’ve hurt, we forget them. We think we won’t every time, and then we do. Maybe it would mean more if we couldn’t get over it, but we always can,” she put her fork down and sat back, full, “which is to say, you’ll go to Mexico, and I’ll go back to work, and things probably won’t be fine. But we will be. We’ll be fine.”

***

She didn’t go back to work that day, and Jesse left.

But she cleaned her apartment up, put all the pills in a wicker basket under her sink and showered for the first time in days. She put on actual clothes instead of sweatpants or staying in her underwear, swept and mopped and cleaned the windows and put the ashtray outside.

Her phone had stayed in her apartment, charging the whole time. She texted Marie, Diane, Skylar and the hospital staff people back. She let her boss know she was doing better, could probably come back in a few days now.

She saw the texts from Saul.

“Can I come over?”

“I want to see you.”

“Are you alright?”

Three missed calls around eight. A couple more around ten, and five at eleven thirty.

She called him but he didn’t pick up.

While she was cleaning the rest of the place, he called her back.

“I’m on my way, I was with a client,” he said as soon as she picked up.

“On your way where? What?”

“Your place. We need to talk.”

She was confused. And a little guilty, honestly.

“About what?”

“About you disappearing last night after a week of xanax-induced dissociation!”

“I was sleeping, Saul.”

On his side of the line, driving his car, his face fell slack. He could tell by now she was putting distance between them when she called him Saul. Either that, or she was acknowledging he’d done something morally ambiguous enough to call him that.

“Well, okay. I’ll be there in ten,” he hung up.

He rang in nine. He was wearing a beige suit, a bright pink shirt and purple tie. His hair looked nice.

“Hi,” she opened.

“Hi,” he tried to kiss her but she pulled back.

“I need to tell you something,” she instantly blurted out.

He leaned his body backwards. After a moment, he sighed and walked in, shutting the door behind him and standing there.

“Is this about Pinkman?”

She nodded, making him look at the ground with a sigh.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you go back to that? Were-were you drunk? I dropped him off at his girlfriend’s house what, two days ago? And now he’s all-”

“I wasn’t sober, but that doesn’t matter. It happened.”

He stared at her.

“Is it going to happen again?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes it fucking matters,” he grabbed her arms, which were crossed beneath her chest. Her eyes watered a little but she didn’t know why.

“What difference does it make? I slept with him, if-if he found out about this after that-”

“So him finding out is the problem? Doesn’t that make you think? I’m the one you’re being honest with! Me! That says something!”

“It says you can fucking take it!”

“You not having to take care of me isn’t the only reason why!”

“You’re right, it’s not, but what can I do now?”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” he raised his hands and looked around, “what, you’re too guilty to stay away from him?”

“That’s not what happened, but-”

“I love you.”

She dropped her arms at her sides, her blood rushed to her face, she felt her stomach drop. She stared at him.

“I do,” he took a step towards her. “I love you, and it’s something I always say too late, but not this time. It’s not too late this time.”

She stared as he grabbed her arms.

“Maybe it is,” she whispered.

“I love you,” he repeated.

She swallowed. “I-“

“I love you.”

“Jimmy,” she shook her head.

“I love you, and I don’t want to give this up.”

“It won’t work.”

“Why not?”

“Because I love him too.”

“So what?”

“So what?”

“So what. You love him, but you also love me, so what.”

She stayed quiet. She thought about him in Mexico now, about how he’d come back and nothing would change. They wouldn’t be together, not properly, while everything in their lives remained the way it was. But she couldn’t be with either of them and live with herself. She couldn’t be with either of them, in both cases, because of what would happen with Jesse.

“Ellie?” he stared at her.

“I can’t. Not now.”

He sighed.

“I’ll call you,” he turned around opening the door. He grabbed from the hallway a flower bouquet. “I, uh, I bought these.”

He put them inside and with a weak smile closed the door behind him, leaving her staring at the flowers with her arms crossed, alone.

***

It’s fucked up to think they’d have still been together if it wasn’t for Jesse in more ways than one. The accident had happened because of him, as Jimmy was driving to her house. Her sleeping with him was the last element, but things had always been contingent to whatever he needed.

They’d met because of him, right?

Jimmy was thinking of all of this as he drove back to his office that day.

While Ellie was putting her apartment together, thinking of whether she should go back to work the next day or if she should let herself wallow and make some art.

What would she even make now?

***

By the time Jesse got back, she was working again.

He stopped by the hospital in his grey shirt and beat up face, looking for her in the waiting room next to the ER.

She met him there after Hugh let her know.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hi.”

“How’d your work trip go?”

“Uh, it went well, yeah,” he looked around. “Listen, I uh. I just wanted to let you know, y’know, I, uh. I’m seeing Andrea and Brock tonight.”

“Who?”

He didn’t answer but it only took her two seconds to recall who that was.

“Oh. Right.”

“I mean, she - you know the story, and her kid-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” her face became closed off, but she smiled, “anyways, is that why you came by? I’m not on break.”

“Ellie, I,” he broke himself off with a sigh.

“Totally fine, Jess. I get it.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. We’re friends. We’re fine. It’s always how this goes, right?” she said the last part like a fuck you.

“El, no, that’s not-”

“Don’t fucking pull this shit again. Let’s just - we’re friends. It’s fine. It’s fucking fine.”

She turned around and walked away clenching her jaw. Fucking stupid asshole fucker. And here she was, putting him first every fucking time. While he pity fucked someone or got high with Jane and chose her only when there was no one else.

And she kept putting up not only with that, but with all he came with, all the shit they didn’t see, his fucking work, his fucking friends and - fuck no.

She knew Jimmy wouldn’t be any different - his job was just as messy, his life was just as chaotic. This wasn’t her realizing one of them was the healthy choice. This was her realizing she was apparently inherently attracted to men who were predetermined to make her life a mess.

Which was more about her than them she guessed.

***

The next day when Saul called her she replied with an “I’m taking a break from dating. I’m focusing on my work and also fuck the meth business,” to which he shushed and spoked over her so as not to compromise the line, “and fuck whatever you guys have going on. I need a normal life.”

It didn’t last. But for a few days, things were actually not an absolute mess in her life.

[manicpixiedgoblin]

Nervous Young Inhumans

Masterpost

Chapter Thirty-Two.

Epilogue: El Camino

2004

“What’ll we do when I come back?” Ellie asked.

They were laying face to face in her bed, the light dim and blue from the muted TV in the living room, the low white from the streetlights outside through the thin, white shades.

“Leave,” he scoffed.

“Where?” she asked.

They were both speaking barely above a whisper. He took a strand of hair from across her face and placed it behind her.

“Wherever we want. Where do you wanna go?”

“Anywhere together.”

“Somewhere with trees,” he said.

“And snow,” she added.

He nodded.

“Promise you’ll come back?” he asked.

“Promise you’ll still be here?”

2010

It had been around six months. Months of hiding in bed, watching TV, drinking - mostly at home. She’d driven through the desert multiple times, aimlessly. It wasn’t like she had any idea where to find him.

There was still an out - leaving all of this. Alone, or even with Jimmy. But her heart was full of grief and she couldn’t do anything but watch the sun rise and fall and try not to think.

Like every day, she was chain smoking and drinking wine from the bottle before noon, thinking of maybe popping a Xanax when the doorbell rang.

Which didn’t happen anymore, really.

She clicked on the buzzer.

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Elizabeth Sanders?” a man’s voice asked on the other side.

“Who is this?”

“Detective Jones, with the DEA - can I come in?”

She hesitated.

“What’s this about?”

“Ma’am, probably nothing concerning you, but I’d like to come in.”

Deciding there wasn’t much risk, she buzzed him in.

Quickly she darted to her room, placing her taser underneath her sweater, tucked into the back of her jeans. The money was hidden, the only drugs around were technically prescribed.

The knock came a few seconds later.

She opened, standing there.

“Can I come in?” the detective asked.

“Should I be concerned? Should I call someone?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“Ms. Sanders, we just want to know if you’re here alone.”

She looked behind his shoulder.

“My partner’s downstairs, thought it better not to, uh, overwhelm you. We know your ties to one Jesse Pinkman have been distant in the past few years, but we still had to check.”

She stared at him, confused.

“Check?”

“Make sure he didn’t think to come around, asking for your help in hiding him. Whatever you know of him, Pinkman has become a hardened criminal. You should, at the slightest indication of his presence, call the police.”

She felt dizzy, took a step back and held on to the couch.

“Woah, woah,” the cop said, stepping towards her, “Miss - are you alright?”

“Jesse?”

“Ma’am?”

“I-I-“ I thought he was dead, she was about to say.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” she said instead.

“We’re sorry to have disturbed you,” he cleared his throat, taking one look around. “Anyways, uh, if he does show up, be sure to give me a call.”

He handed her his card and left.

After a few moments she started breathing harder, then stood up. She took out her laptop and pulled up the live feed of the cameras she’d installed, back when she’d still been scared of Walter coming back.

She saw Detective Jones speak to someone in another car and then leave, this second car staying parked in front of her building.

She turned her head towards the TV and found the local news. As she heard, she covered her mouth with her palm.

***

Of course he was smart enough not to come here. She sobered up, showered and packed everything. Anywhere she drove they’d follow, right?

Walter was dead. Jesse was alive. Whatever he’d been through, he was alive.

She wondered if her phone was tapped. She found an old burner of Saul’s, but didn’t know who to call, where he’d go. Who wouldn’t they be watching?

He’d probably rather risk it at his friend’s than involve her.

Did he know she was still there?

She checked the cameras again. Only one car. Clearly they didn’t know that much, then. Two suitcases and her backpack. Just enough money for the service, for them to start, a few changes of clothes. Her small wooden memory box. One last look around. Whatever they found after wouldn’t matter much, right?

She called the cab number Jimmy had specifically given her from the burner phone, asking them to meet her at the corner store and left through the back of the building.

When she pulled up at Skinny and Badger’s place, or rather two doors down, she handed the cabby an extra tip and got out. No cars around - yet.

She didn’t knock, trying the handle and getting inside.

“Woah,” Badger rushed to the door before recognizing her, his hands falling to his sides as she shut the door behind her, having wheeled in the suitcases.

“Where is he?” she said softly.

Skinny walked into the living room. “Shower,” he said, his eyes slightly wide.

She nodded.

Everything she had with her she left in the living room and leaned her head against the bathroom door, hearing the sound of running water and closing her eyes.

She didn’t want to scare him.

She didn’t know the details, and maybe one day he’d be ready to tell her, but now? Now she just wanted to make sure he knew it was over. Knew he was safe.

It took a long time after the water stopped running for the door to open. She took a step back when it did to keep from falling towards the toilet. He startled and stared at her.

He looked different than he did on the TV Badger and Petey kept running in the background. Older. Scarred. Her hand wanted to reach towards his face but she stood still.

He was holding a gun dripping wet.

When she glanced at it he finally reacted.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re leaving, right?”

“El-” he choked.

“I’m already packed,” she smiled softly.

He kept staring, his eyes half absent. Finally, he collapsed towards her, hugging her, face buried in her neck. She held him. He didn’t cry, just stayed there until Skinny walked up behind her.

“Woah, dude, why’d you—“

“Looking sharp, yo,” Badger interrupted him.

Jesse pulled back and looked at all of them.

“I gotta get rid of that car,” he said to them.

***

He called the same guy that had helped them in the past, and Skinny drove off with it.

Even though he didn’t clear much up for them, they understood. They said their goodbyes.

Ellie called the Vacuum Repair shop.

When Ed picked them up he asked her if she was going to Nebraska.

“No,” she shook her head, “we leave together.”

“Where to?”

“Alaska,” Jesse said.

She didn’t say anything, just glanced at his hand and kept herself from taking it. He noticed and reached out, taking her hand.

When Ed put them in the underground room to wait for transport Jesse sat against the wall on the head of the bed, Ellie slowly joining him.

“It’s over,” she wanted to say, but she knew for him it wasn’t. She knew it would take years.

They sat in silence for a long time before he spoke.

“They as bad as I think?” he motioned towards his face.

“They’re kind of hot,” she joked.

***

Ed finally left them in Alaska, almost a week later, next to a pickup truck, with their two suitcases half-full of money, all they had in the world now.

They’d traveled in a cramped compartment, pressed together. Jesse would shake in his sleep. Ellie would stroke his head until it stopped.

They got in their new car, in silence. She looked at him as often as she could, still afraid it would end, it was just another dream.

It would take years for her to breathe normally in the mornings when he got out of bed before her.

Mr. and Mrs. Driscoll, their new identities - a passport and valid ID, a few changes of clothes, a car. Enough money to buy a small cabin in a small town, for Jesse to focus on woodworking, for Ellie to paint, for both of them to slowly build a life that alienated the previous one until it was that which felt like a dream and not this.

In her small wooden box, the ring. She’d forget about the people from the past, until one day at a bar she’d see the news of Jimmy’s arrest. And surprise would overtake her when, after all those years, all that was left was a feeling of tenderness for everyone that had been there.

The kind of tenderness you feel after waking up for someone you’ve met only in a dream.

[manicpixiedgoblin]

Nervous Young Inhumans

Masterpost

Chapter Three.

(This takes place in S1E6, for reference)

She looked at the small thirteen on her wrist. They’d gotten matching tattoos on her last birthday in Albuquerque, 13 for the date they’d met - a normal day one August, walking out of her first day of high school in a new city.

Jesse had friends already, he’d grown up there. Ellie was new, lonely, bored already. She’d buried her parents two months before, moved in with her barely functioning grandmother into a decent apartment - the transition wasn’t so hard, Santa Fe was similar enough to Albuquerque.

But before him, she’d thought she would sleep through the four years before moving away for college, and suddenly she was completely immersed in the here and now of this desert city. Pinkman drew her aside one day in the parking lot and everything after was about a world made up of him and her. Everyone and everything else was background noise.

Now, in the hospital staff lounge where she was eating her shitty pre-packed lunch she stared at it. Wondered if he looked at it often too.

Was it always a dumb idea, a matching tattoo? Even if he wasn’t in her life the way he used to be, she knew he was a part of her forever. Maybe the best and worst part at once.

“Ellie?” a voice broke her out of her thoughts. One of the nurses.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Patient in room 304 is asking for you, Mrs. Ackermann.”

She wiped her mouth with a napkin and threw away the half of the sandwich she had left.

“Be right there.”

***

It wasn’t often that she went to the Oncology unit, but she saw his name and ran straight over.

A line of six or seven patients in comfortable reclining chairs sat along the wall. Mr. White was the next to last.

She walked over and sat on the empty chair next to him.

“Can I call you Walter now?” she smiled.

“Elena Sanders! What are you doing here?” he smiled back.

“I work here now.”

“I’m so glad, it’s so good to see that!”

“You shouldn’t be surprised I was the only A+ in your class.”

“Ellie, you were also dating,” he stammered for a moment, his face betraying something, though she couldn’t tell what.

“Pinkman?” she laughed.

“Pinkman,” he looked down at his hands and shook his head slightly.

“We broke up when I went to med school.”

“Well,” he shrugged, “I’m glad you went. Regardless of, uh, Jesse.”

“Have you seen him around?”

“Have you?”

“A few times, but no, not really.”

“Oh, good, good. I mean, not like that, just, you know,” he waved his hand.

“Yeah,” she glanced down, and then gestured to the chemo bag, “well, how’s this going?”

“I guess you can imagine,” Walter sighed.

“More from my grandmother than from medicsl

school,” Ellie said, “I didn’t specialize in Oncology. But how are you feeling? How’s Mrs. White?”

“We’re fine, you know, it’s all a complicated process, but holding up.”

“If I can ever help you in any way, just let me know. I’ll give you my new number, you can also give it to Skylar.”

“Thank you, Ellie, really,” he said, nodding and smiling as she wrote down her number. “It was lovely seeing you.”

***

Jesse was in the RV when Walter slammed the door on his way in.

“You haven’t said anything about this to anyone right?”

“What the fuck man? No.”

“No one?!”

“Jesus, Mr. White, what the fuck? No, no one knows shit, why are you being all paranoid and crazy?” Jesse turned away, and mumbled “bitch.”

“I saw Ellie Sanders.”

“Where?”

“That’s not the point, Jesse.”

“Whatever, man, no, we barely talk.”

“Good,” he backed away.

“Good? Like you were always telling her in high school, good like she’s too good for me?”

“No, Jesse -“ he gestured with his hands, “good as in no one can know about this. About us.”

“Whatever, man. No one knows.”

***

Ellie went to see Mr. and Mrs. Pinkman again for the first time. It had all gone well, until when they were saying goodbye.

“I’m happy to see you so much, sweetie,” Diane had said, “and you know, when one day you meet a lucky guy I hope you bring him around.”

Ellie must’ve made a face.

“Oh, you know,” Diane went on, “Adam and I love Jesse. But he doesn’t deserve you. We know you’re too good to date him.”

“Right,” something snapped inside Ellie. “I’ll see you.”

She practically stormed down the driveway and into her car, turning the music loud before backing out of her spot and driving over the speed limit.

She ignored the turn towards her apartment and drove in a mad daze towards Jesse’s place.

Ellie knocked on the door loudly. She heard shuffling inside and knocked again.

A tired, disgruntled Jesse opened, rubbing the back of his head until he reacted to seeing her. He was wearing a yellow hoodie, his hair a mess.

She didn’t say anything, just wrapped her hands around his neck and pressed herself to him, kissing him violently. He reacted instantly, pulling her inside and kicking the door shut behind her.

He shrugged off his hoodie and put one of his arms around her waist, touched her hair with the other one, groaning already against her mouth.

It was faster, more intense than any time they’d kissed before.

She tossed off her sweater and he pulled off her shirt. They fell onto the couch, her legs straddling him. In between kisses and hair pulling, she took off his shirt.

She hiked her skirt up and he unzipped his jeans, and without taking anything else off, forgetting even to get a condom, she began riding him there and then.

“Fuck,” he moaned against her chest, “fuck, yes.”

She let out a loud moan as he pulled her hair, licked her chest.

Fuck being too good for him. If they really knew them they’d know it was the other way around.

[manicpixiedgoblin]

Nervous Young Inhumans

Masterpost

Chapter Twenty-Three.

Jimmy had mentioned the money drops he’d been doing for Jesse. Which made Ellie think of atonement and of the way Jesse would always return to feelings of guilt as a result of his past. But of course a small part of her, a twisted part of her, was also jealous thinking this girl might actually become a stable part of his life.

She didn’t say anything. There was so much more going on, she couldn’t really be concerned with his love life now.

Her body still ached everywhere, she still spent most of her day on the couch or in bed. She’d gotten a doctor to get her a prescription for Klonopin and Saul had given her some Xanax, so she slept and spent her days in a daze. It was disturbingly comfortable.

She’d been so out of it the last time Jesse came over was a blur - between her self-prescribed medications and the painkillers from the accident, she was floating all day.

She remembered him talking, knew she’d answered, but she heard and saw everything as if she were underwater.

It felt less like drowning and more like no longer being on fire.

***

Jesse remembered the conversation clearly: he’d come over with some food for her, since he knew she hadn’t been going shopping and had found her in her underwear and an oversized t-shirt staring absently at some foreign film without subtitles in a language he knew she couldn’t speak.

A cigarette was burning up on its own, forgotten in an ashtray.

He scratched his head.

He’d sat down next to her, touched her feet to raise them and set them on his lap, but they’d been so cold he’d gone and gotten her socks. She mumbled something with a pleased smile while he put them on for her.

“How are you?” he’d asked.

“How are you?” she’d mirrored.

“I’m good, El. Really, much better.”

“I’m glad. I’m sorry you have to live with all these things,” she’d stretched her hand towards his head, all the way across the couch, so that she’d given up and laid back down.

“What things?” he’d looked down.

“I know about it, Jess. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry any of it had to happen to you. You, specifically. Maybe I don’t understand karma well enough, maybe I just don’t know what happened in your last life, but I think I was there, and all I remember was tenderness.”

He looked at her with confusion and concern.

“Ellie, what are you talking about?”

“Jane, Gale - all of it. Gus and Mike, y’know,” her words were a little slurred. She sounded sleepy or tipsy.

He pressed his lips tight.

“Who told you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, “I still think you’re the best person I’ve ever met. So good,” she turned her face away from him, “so good,” she repeated.

“What about what happened to you?”

“That wasn’t your fault…”

“What if it was?”

“I’d be sorry if you blamed yourself. Even if it was about you - it wasn’t your fault.”

He’d sighed, tried changing the subject. The rest of the visit had gone well. She’d made fun of his paint-stained arms and they’d played a very dumbed down version of chess.

He left her phone charging, since it’d died and she hadn’t even cared.

***

Walt had been pressuring Jesse to take care of Fring sooner, while he was also concerned about getting Ellie out of her house, or out of her state of despondence and pill-induced daze, at least.

About a week after the events of the hospital, and a lot of drama with Walt and the cartel, he decided that apart from his concern for her he also needed Ellie. All this time, whenever he’d been going through it, her concern over him had been a grounding element.

And now instead of concern she was indifferent, not to him, but to everything.

The night after he had dinner at Gus Fring’s house he left annoyed enough to do something rash about it. He drove to Ellie’s place, going in without knocking and dragging her out of her apartment, just putting his own jacket over her sweatpants and tank top and bringing her to his car. She complied, mostly out of it. She might’ve been drinking too, which on benzos and painkillers was not only dangerous, but extremely strange.

She fell asleep while they drove to his house and woke up when he parked.

“You okay?” he asked as she stared at him.

“I’m - yeah. We’re home?”

“Yeah, we’re home. C’mon.”

They got out of the car, Jesse watching her lopsided movements. Once inside the house, she fell onto the couch.

“I’ll get you some water,” he said.

“Do you have beer?”

“Nope,” he lied.

She nodded, absently.

While he was gone she lit a cigarette from the coffee table and stood up, looked through the CDs stacked next to the huge speakers. She looked around after a moment, sniffing. It smelled clean. Like paint, even. The place looked immaculate. She turned behind her to the wall above the fireplace.

Jess had installed a wooden mantlepiece, on top of which he’d placed, leaning against the wall, the surviving pictures from his month-long rave. Without putting on music, she placed the CD she’d been looking at down and walked over to the frames.

In one of them, the largest one, was a collage of the unharmed pieces of her painting, protected by the glass which reflected her face. She knew she looked back, but the bags under her eyes, the diminished yet present bruising and the hollowness of her expression depressed her. She focused back on what was inside the frame, her hand reaching to touch the edge. Something clenched tight inside her chest, a feeling between warmth and melancholy taking hold of her.

Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around and saw Jesse holding a glass of water and looking at her with his soft, huge eyes.

He was inches from her, and she leaned her head on his shoulder, closing the distance to him and wrapping her arms around his torso.

He hugged her back, held her tight enough she felt protected, safe.

From what?

He rested his chin on her head for a few seconds. When she started to pull away, he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

“I’ll be fine tomorrow,” she said, mostly like a promise to herself.

“I know.”

And maybe it was the pills, or the moment, the feelings that were coming over her while watching him and feeling him so close, and maybe then she forgot all the shit he’d put her through and mostly thought of what he’d been through himself, and she was full of compassion and love for this man, and an urge to tell him everything she hadn’t, about Jimmy, about her and about how she felt came over her - the impulse strong enough that she’d drawn the breath to start speaking and was about to when a knock came at the door.

He might’ve sensed something because he stared with a perplexed expression before the second knock came. He opened his mouth but without saying anything ended up handing her the water and turning towards the door, opening the eye-level latch to see who it was.

She saw him sigh but open it and sat down on the dark blue chair on this side of the living room, lighting back up the cigarette that had gone out in her hand.

“Come on in,” he gestured, and in walked Walt. He barely nodded in El’s direction.

“You, uh,” Jesse said, “you want a beer? Something?”

“No,” Walt replied. “Should I sit down?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jesse signaled to the larger couch with his hand. Ellie clutched the cigarette and the water in her hands.

“I thought we’d talk alone,” Walter said.

“I, uh,” Jesse scratched his head, “it’s fine. Sit down.”

Walt complied.

“Okay, so, um,” Jesse started, “so, uh, word has come down that they, they want me to go to Mexico. There’s some, some sort of war brewing between Gus and the, and the cartel…”

Jesse assumed El was so out of it that it didn’t matter much what he said. He wasn’t completely wrong. She was now staring at the fractals of light on the water from the glass in her hand.

“Word has come down?” Walt asked.

They kept talking while she stared at the water, mostly blocking the words out. She thought if she really wanted to know, this newly sober Jesse would tell her tomorrow, or she could ask Jimmy, who wouldn’t lie. She was thinking of whether he told her all these things out of self-interest because it was convenient the light it painted him in not to lie, or if he just really had an honest impulse around her.

Mostly, she was mesmerized by the colors changing as she slowly turned and tilted the glass.

Something about Hank, heads blowing up, the cartel… Mexico? She didn’t want him to go to Mexico.

“Don’t go to Mexico,” she mumbled without looking up, but no one heard. Maybe she’d only mouthed it.

She looked up when she saw out of the corner of her eye Walter getting up, Jesse backing down, physical interacting.

“Still here,” Walter threw something at Jesse he’d pulled out of his jacket. A cigarette pack.

Jesse raised his voice, they were standing on either side of her chair now, while he screamed about dinner, stew, poison - the only thing that was clear to Ellie was that Walt wanted Jesse to kill someone else now.

“How did you know I was at his house last night?”

Walter pulled out the tracker, Ellie set her cup down, put the cigarette out inside it. They kept fighting over the bug Walt planted on Jesse’s car - advice, Mexico, then Jesse throwing the bug at Walter’s head. Ellie stood up when they started fighting, when Walt kicked Jesse and they both ended up on the ground. She walked over to the glass table while they kept fighting and smashing things and took another cigarette from the pack there, lighting it.

She went and sat back down.

This reminded her, she thought while she saw them stumble up, what had prompted her apathy. Her impotence had - now, as she’d seen them fighting, her impulse to break them apart, to try and help Jess, to stop whatever this was, was as present as ever. But she knew the futility of it better now. And she stopped herself from once again being the fool who got hurt trying to save someone who hadn’t asked for help.

Jesse stopped Walter from getting up, smashed his head against the glass table, beat him up good a couple times. While he pounded him Ellie just stared. For once, there were no tears in her eyes.

“Can you walk?” Jesse asked when they’d both finally finished, stood up in opposite ends of the living room, bent and breathing hard.

“Yeah,” Walter said.

“Then get the fuck out of here and never come back.”

Jesse took her hand from the couch and led her out of the living room, up the first flight of stairs, around the TV. She heard the front door open while they were walking up the longer flight, down the hall and into his bedroom. She’d dropped the cigarette somewhere along the path.

He locked the door behind them and drew her to his bed, where she stared at the gash on his forehead, more a scrape than a wound, really. She leaned forward, licking it without thinking twice.

He let out a soft moan, taking the hair at the nape of her neck and pulling her head back.

She whimpered and he stared into her eyes as she bit her lip.

“No,” he said, but she could feel his body reacting to her presence, could feel the way the violence had gotten his blood rushing and every point of contact was sending energy sparks through him.

“Fuck me,” she whispered.

“You’re high.”

She leaned forward and once again he pulled her back by the hair, which only made her let out a moan. Her hand reached down to his pants, feeling him already hard.

That was the tipping point and he pushed her face up to his, hungrily kissing her climbing up on top of her as they grinded against each other, her pelvis raising to feel his, her hands scratching his back.

He pulled away to bite her neck, his breathing in her ear making her skin fill up with goosebumps while she tried taking off his sweatshirt.

“Jess,” she moaned.

He pulled back and stared into her eyes.

“You’re mine,” he growled, leaning down and kissing her again, both of them moaning into each other’s mouths.

[manicpixiedgoblin]

Nervous Young Inhumans

Masterpost

Chapter Twenty-Two.

Mike told Gus about his concerns in regards to Pinkman. Gus, who knew much more about Ellie than she did him, suggested using her to make him react.

Mike came up with the alternative that was officially put in effect - but just in case, Gus decided the motivator wouldn’t hurt. Him, at least.

“Hurt her,” he said, “but make it look like an accident. I want him scared, not angry.”

***

Ellie had ended up, as usual, sleeping over with Saul. In the morning, unlike usual, she had her own car so she drove herself to work.

Her shift went well enough, and as she left the hospital she felt as though she was being watched. She ignored it. She got in her car and drove home, looking in the rearview. As far as she could tell, no one was following her.

She thought of calling Saul - but why would anyone be following her?

In any case, Jimmy called her, to talk to her about coming over.

“Can you come? I’m kind of tired,” she said.

“Yes I can, if I can also come inside-“

“See you soon, Saul!” she hung up with a half laugh.

When she pulled into her building and parked in her spot something still felt off, but she ignored it. She locked her car and started walking towards the door.

The next thing she felt was intense pain, first on her right side, then on her left. Then it all went black.

***

It was Jimmy who found her - she was laying on the ground, unconscious, badly bruised and bleeding, and had been for a while.

He called 911 then in panic drove her himself to the hospital. The whole mess in the ER, he stayed there anxiously waiting.

It’d been a hit and run and there were no cameras in the parking garage - she had three broken ribs, a busted cheekbone, internal bleeding in several places, not to mention an insane amount of cuts, scrapes and bruising.

Jimmy ended up sleeping in the hospital on the couch, convincing them he was her fiancee - though they knew her and were skeptical. Specially Hugh who tried to get security until he pulled a Saul Goodman and threatened his ass. So he managed to stay.

The next morning, Jesse’s family visited - Diane was still listed as her second emergency contact, and her first, Jesse, hadn’t picked up.

They left flowers and balloons, but Ellie was still unconscious with a breathing tube covering the bottom half of her face.

Diane couldn’t lie, she was a little disappointed not to have bumped into her son there.

Meanwhile, Jesse was out in the desert with Mike. Gus waited for him to come back and find out.

***

Jesse found out about it after Walter found him in the lab - Walt, who’d had a call from Marie. While the delivery wasn’t great on his part, it didn’t matter, because Jesse was too shocked to say anything and just ripped the yellow hazmat suit and ran out, leaving Walt to work alone again.

He hadn’t brought his car, Mike had dropped him off, so he took Walter’s keys without asking and drove himself to the hospital.

“Ellie Sanders, which room?!” he screamed at the entrance of the ER.

“That way,” a surprised, scared nurse directed him.

“Which number?”

“405!” she almost shouted back.

He ran all the way there, throwing the door open, sweaty and breathless. He stood still staring at her in the bed, unconscious, beat up and connected to multiple wires.

Then he noticed the figure on the other side.

“Took your time, huh?”

“What are you doing here?” Jesse asked Saul with an annoyed grimace.

“Somebody had to look after her.”

Jesse frowned but didn’t say anything.

“They’re saying it was a hit and run,” Saul said, “but who hits and runs in a parking lot?”

“Parking lot?”

“Yeah, it happened outside her apartment.”

Jesse was slowly making his way to the bed, to holding her limp hand. Jimmy stared and bit his lips, keeping himself from saying anything. Jesse got tense when he’d said that last part. He felt in his gut it wasn’t an accident and somehow he knew he was the reason she’d been hurt. He felt a knot in his stomach, tightening.

“What have the doctors said?” Jesse continued holding her hand.

“Uh,” Jimmy scratched his head, “I mean, she’s taken a pretty hard beating. But her head scans were clean, so they said she’ll probably recover fully. She hasn’t woken up, though.”

Jesse sighed sat facing the door on the edge of the bed, so Saul couldn’t see his eyes welling up with tears.

A few minutes later a nurse walked into the room.

“Which of you is the fiancee?” she asked.

Jesse frowned again.

“Uh, yeah, that’d be me,” Saul cleared his throat.

Jesse turned and glared at him and Saul made a shrug as if it’d just been a necessary measure.

“Visiting hours are over and the patient is still in critical condition, I’m gonna need you to leave,” she turned to Jesse.

“No fucking way.”

“Sir?”

“This asshole isn’t her fiancee and I’m her closest friend,” he snapped, “I’m staying. If anyone’s leaving it’s you,” he turned to Saul, “bitch.”

“Are you not her-“

“It’s complicated,” Saul interrupted, straightening his tie. “Could you give us a few minutes? Thanks,” he pushed her out the door gently and locked the door behind her.

“I didn’t know if you were coming and someone had to stay with her,” Saul said, looking at Jesse, “now, I don’t know if you agree, but I think someone tried to hurt her. And if they weren’t satisfied with maiming and were aiming to, y’know,” he made a throat cutting sign, “someone needs to keep watch.”

“Why would that be you?” Jesse snapped.

“It can be anyone! I was the first one that got here!”

“Yeah? How?”

“I have access to the hospital records, kid, don’t worry about it.”

“And you found out and didn’t think to call me!?”

“Hey, I was sort of preoccupied!” he gestured to the bed.

Jesse sighed and looked at Ellie.

“I need to give Mr. White his car, and go get mine,” he said, “can you stay until I come back?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Saul agreed.

***

Of course, Walter went insane about the car. But Jesse didn’t give him time, drove home for his keys and car and went straight back. He managed to get into the room but didn’t manage to get Saul out for a few hours.

When he did, it wasn’t fifteen minutes before his bodyguard Huell showed up and sat outside. He stayed there the whole night. Jesse sat on the couch, only going outside ever so often for a smoke.

***

Ellie woke up the next day before Jesse did.

She turned and saw him on the couch and if her face didn’t hurt as much as it did, she would’ve both smiled and cried.

The moment she stirred Huell, who was sitting outside, texted Saul.

She was looking at Jesse, which he must’ve felt in his half-asleep state, because he woke up with a start. With a soft “oh” which came out of his mouth, he rushed from the couch to the bed and took Ellie’s hand.

She tried to say something but it came out as a croak. He rushed to get her some water, lifting the cup for her to drink.

After a few sips, he put it back on the table next to the bed and went back to holding her hand.

“Your hair,” she tried raising her hand with a smile. He took her hand to stop her from making an effort and covered his mouth with the other one to stop the sob from breaking out.

“Do I look that bad?” she joked.

He laughed in between jerky cries.

“Don’t move, Ellie,” he said. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I was so scared,” he shook his head.

“I’m fine, right?” she asked, “what happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

“I was - I was walking into my building and then I - yeah, I remember the pain, but I didn’t see much.”

“You got hit by a car.”

She half-chuckled, “badass,” she joked.

He shook his head again, keeping one hand holding hers and stroking her hair with the other.

“How’d I get here?”

“I don’t know,” he said, “one of your neighbors must’ve found you.”

She gave a small nod, not moving her neck much.

“Don’t you have work?” she asked.

“I’m staying here,” he said defensively.

“Jesse, I’m fine.”

“Saul said it - what if this wasn’t an accident?”

“Saul was here?”

“Yeah, he, uh, he was.”

“Jesse, go to work,” she repeated, “I’m in the hospital, I’ll be fine.”

“Do you not want me to be here?”

“Jesse, I’d love to spend all day with you. But not like this.”

“So you’re not mad?”

“I’ve always wanted to stay mad at you. For some reason, I never can.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “if it makes you feel any better I am sorry. I - I know how I get when I use.”

“You’re not high right now,” she realized out loud.

“I haven’t used in like thirty something hours,” he said.

She stayed quiet.

“I know it’s not much.”

“No, no. I’m glad.”

***

The doctors came in, Saul showed up, between him and Ellie they convinced Jesse to take off. She wouldn’t be discharged for another twelve hours at least, but once she was awake it was a matter of bandaging her up and making sure she was stable and then she could rest up at her apartment.

Saul disagreed, saying she’d be more comfortable at his house.

“Oh, yeah, let’s just have Jess visit me there, I bet he’ll love your place!”

“Have you seen his lately? He has no right to judge taste.”

“That is not at all what you should be worried about.”

“I’m not worried about anything! I don’t have a problem with him finding out!”

“Sa-Jimmy, I just want to be in my own bed and sleep until my head doesn’t feel like it weighs twice as much as it should.”

“And who’s gonna take care of you there?”

“Me?”

“You’re not a doctor right now!”

“No, but I’m not useless either!”

“Can you even pee by yourself?”

“Yes, dick,” she tried not to laugh so the bruising on her face wouldn’t hurt.

“I mean,” he shrugged, “I wouldn’t mind helping with that. At all.”

“Disgusting.”

***

Ellie stayed at home for the next week, mostly avoiding both Jesse and Jimmy. With everything that had happened lately, she felt like disappearing, like starting it all over, erasing the messy things that now constituted her life and finding a clean slate, a new place to start.

But as she couldn’t, she texted Jimmy back and when Jesse showed up let him in and they shared a pizza on the couch.

They both noticed how despondent she was.

It wasn’t about the car crash - it was the awareness that so much was going on between them, Walt, Fring, Mike and their drug business that she didn’t know about - and it didn’t matter that she didn’t know, she was a part of it, getting hurt by it, and yet they all thought it was the right thing to leave her in the dark as much as possible.

When she went for a smoke in the balcony or out for groceries to the store at a walking distance, she sometimes noticed Saul’s bodyguard around.

She didn’t mind.

But she did feel annoyed when he tried to hide. She even thought about inviting him in for a beer at some point.

Her work covered this kind of accident as a paid leave, so she wasn’t too concerned with that. But she wasn’t doing anything. She played video games, watched DVD films and ignored everyone.

While she was ignoring everyone, Jesse painted his house, trying to make his shit look more together, trying to actually fix things, thinking maybe it was time for things to stop being such a mess - and maybe things with her could also be better now. He even went back to meetings.

Things weren’t great, and still, he felt broken inside; but he knew that he couldn’t get other people hurt because of him anymore, and the more he hurt himself the more the person he cared the most about seemed to get hurt.

So he got his shit as together as he relatively could, while still working with Mike, with Walt, with Fring.