maskormenacelogs | [closed] listen, I don't really know you

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[closed] listen, I don't really know you

WHO: Saul Goodman, Jesse Pinkman, and ~~Walter White Jr.~~ Flynn Lambert
WHERE: Heropa #016
WHEN: A few days after this.
WHAT: A nice, friendly discussion over lunch.
WARNINGS: it's not really going to be a nice discussion

[Brunch.

That's how Saul framed it: A brunch of sorts between not-quite-friends, to clear the air between them all and hopefully come to an understanding of what happened back home.

He knows it's not the best plan he's ever had, but it's all he could come up with in light of the promise to be truthful. There'll be no talking his way out of this one, no embellishing, no lying. All he has is a desperate attempt at creating a casual atmosphere, setting out drinks and a quiche that he knows will go untouched.

It makes him laugh, when he stands back to look at the table he's set up out back. It makes him laugh so hard he almost starts crying — but then he's not sure whether those are amused tears or actual tears, and that possibility is too much for him to handle.

And anyway, Jesse's due to show up in the next few minutes. Flynn should be following shortly after.

Saul needs to pull his shit together.

He straightens his tie, smooths down his shirt, drifts into the kitchen to knock back a shot of vodka, and waits.]

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[Jesse considered bailing on this. The whole thing. Moving out of town, isolating himself someplace, staying as far away from Walter White's kid as he could possibly manage. This thing they've got planned here, it's not something he's sure he can handle. He hasn't even allowed himself to fully process everything. He's not in any state to help walk a kid through all of it.

And, god, there's so much he's not sure he can bring himself to talk about. Not because he wants to keep any secrets, but because the wounds are still so raw. What if he falls apart right there, in front of the kid?

It takes several minutes of standing outside Saul's house, hesitating in front of the door, before Jesse finally gives in and lets himself inside. He'll give it a chance. If he has to run, then he'll run.]

Saul..?

[Saul's leaning against the kitchen counter, contemplating the floor when Jesse walks in. He doesn't look up.]

In here.

[Jesse follows that voice to the kitchen. Shots, huh? He feels that.]

Hey. You okay?

[Stupid question.]

I've been better.

[He isn't sure what has him feeling worse: knowing that the jig is very close to being up, or knowing that he's about to contribute to all of their shared suffering.

He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, then looks up to meet Jesse's gaze.]

Thanks for showing up.

I almost didn't.

[So don't thank him, really.]

I figured.

[If he weren't so focused on being honest today, he'd say that Jesse didn't really have to show. He'd say he could've done this on his own.

But that's not true, so he doesn't.]

You sure I won't mess this up? Being here. It might go a lot easier if he didn't have to look at me.

You really think so? 'Cause I don't. You can't avoid each other forever, and if he gets any info about you and your involvement from me alone, you know he's gonna go digging deeper. You know he's gonna look for you, and then what? I might not be around when that happens.

[That sounded more foreboding than he meant it. A pause, then some backtracking:] I mean — it won't be like this. We won't have each other to... lean on, or whatever, if I'm in court or in another city. If it's too much for you, if you start to freak out and have to bail, that's fine. You do what you need to, but he needs to at least know you were willing to make an appearance.

[Jesse doesn't feel much reassured by that. But at least he's got permission to get the fuck out of here, if it comes to it.]

Do you, um... Do you think he's gonna tell anybody?

[Saul shrugs.]

I have no idea. I tried to tell him, you know, none of this is really actionable here — legally speaking. But... in hindsight, that might not have been the best thing to bring up at the time.

[Should he take another shot?? It looks like he's thinking about it.]

Maybe whatever we say will be enough to help him start moving on. Maybe he's just as eager to leave this all behind him as we are.

[By all means, Saul: get shitfaced. Jesse isn't about to stop him.]

He don't have to come after us legally. It'd be enough, everybody just knowing about it.

What's he gonna gain from that, though?

[Jesse can't answer that. Neither can Saul. Before Jesse responds, Saul continues:] I'll do what I can to keep the situation under control and try to be the voice of reason, but your guess is as good as mine with regards to how he'll react.

[Revenge, Saul. He'd get revenge.

But Jesse doesn't say it. He just stares at Saul for a good, long moment, as if trying to see through him. There's something he's thinking, something he doesn't want to say out loud because it'll sting, but it's rolling around in his mind because of course it is. His paranoia is relentless.]

[Normally, Saul would shift uncomfortably under such a look. He'd avoid it, he'd refuse to make eye contact, he'd do something with his hands to distract the person staring. He'd say something.

What he does instead is hold Jesse's gaze with his own, jaw set, eyes unblinking.

This meeting is mostly happening because Saul does, in fact, want to come clean and help Flynn fill in the many blanks dotting the past few years of his life.

But this meeting is also happening because he needs Jesse to see him coming clean. He needs Jesse to believe, once and for all, that he's learned from his mistakes. That he can be trusted. That he is, deep down, a good man.

In Saul's mind, that's worth the risk of Flynn wanting revenge.]

[The silence is telling in itself. Maybe Saul already understands: If he makes any desperate or dangerous attempts to stop the kid from talking, then he'll answer to Jesse for it.

It doesn't occur to him that any of this display is for him.

Jesse breaks contact first, without vocally acknowledging any of it. He looks at the floor and leans back against the counter, simply waiting for Flynn's arrival.]

[ Flynn takes a breath. He's so tense, he's pretty sore. He mostly flew here, but he does have to land to knock on the door.

He grips his crutches. The thought occurred to him to 'accidentally' knock either one or the two men with his crutches, but his heart sank at the idea.

He's here to give them a chance, he realised. It was lucky for the pair of them that his mother was involved in that mess. It was lucky that she fought against him. He saw what kind of man his father was. The kind of man who killed Hank.

So it was that, perhaps ironically, that made him show up here, that meant 'revenge' was the farthest thing from his mind. If he was going to out anyone, it was to secure people's safety, not to satisfy anything selfish.

He takes a breath and knocks. ]

[Saul's so lost in thought when Flynn knocks that he almost doesn't hear, but the sound is just loud enough to make his head snap up at the realization that it's time to face the music.

Or the kid. Whatever.

He glances at Jesse on his way to the door, then opens it with a subdued sort of smile. Friendly, but not cheerful.]

Hey. You find your way here alright?

[Jesse only follows for a few steps, lingering in the background while Saul answers the door. He does his best to look like he's not attending a funeral, but he's not very successful.]

[ He looks between the two of them as he comes in, not immediately answering. They can see he's fine. He takes a breath before he speaks. ]

Look. Nobody wants to... prolong this. Ok? Soon as I know. What happened with Dad, I can go and you can... I don't know. Whatever. The air is cleared, I guess.

[Sure, he's fine now. Maybe Saul's a little too used to dealing with volatile, emotional messes — present company included. Maybe he's just being careful.

Still, he nods, gesturing toward the backyard.]

Let's sit. There's coffee and some food out there. Or I can get you juice, I don't know what you drink.

[Speaking of drinking, guess who forgot to move the vodka from the in-full-view spot on the counter.

Bunch of great influences you got yourself here, kid.]

[Jesse doesn't say anything just yet. They're better off if he lets Saul do the talking for now. He turns to head to the backyard as prompted, hands shoved deep in his pockets and shoulders hunched like he would disappear if he could.]

No.[ He sighs and heads outside, following Jesse.

He definitely eyeballs the vodka, though, unlike these two, decides that he's really not better off doing this with drink.

He doesn't want to drink and get comfortable in their presence. It feels like a surrender, which he is not prepared to do.

He takes a seat and looks at them. Noticing Jesse's sullenness, he turns to Saul. ] I'm guessing you're gonna start?

[But...

He made brunch. :(

Saul decides to let it go; if the kid wants something, he'll ask for it. Or not, if he's heard all those tales about what happens when you eat in the Underworld.]

Nope.

[He grabs a mug and pours himself some coffee first, then settles back into his chair.]

You're gonna start. We all know why we're here, so go ahead. Ask away.

[As Jesse settles in, he's realizing he might not necessarily look the most welcoming. He glances at Saul before turning his full attention to Flynn, nodding just to show he agrees with that statement. He's not being forced, here.]

Anything you wanna know.

Jesus fucking Christ!

[ He's practically shaking. He's really trying to keep calm, but these two are making it impossible. This isn't the kind of thing that will be covered up with good hospitality and it's only getting on his nerves that they're pretending it does, even only on a surface level. ] What do I wanna know? Fucking everything, ok? Do you... do you think this is a game show, or... or twenty questions, or some shit? Fucking 'ask away', bullshit.

[ He puts his head down and his hand to his forehead, breathing away the shakes. He raises his head and takes another breath for good measure. ] Just... start... somewhere, anywhere and if I have questions, I'm going to ask them.

[Bloody teenagers.

The outburst doesn't surprise Saul, but the volume of Flynn's voice does make him jump. He remains composed on the outside in spite of that, though, because he's not giving anyone the satisfaction of seeing him rattled.

Especially not when he feels like the ghost of Walter White is hanging out by the pool, watching this mess unfold.]

Fine.

[Said gently, as he splays his hands onto the table.]

We'll start at the beginning. Your father, what he was doing — I don't think he realized the seriousness of it before he and Jesse enlisted my help. I can't speak for anything that happened prior to our first meeting, 'cause I wasn't there, but when he showed up in my office? Guy was skittish as all get out.

[A pause. Saul glances toward Jesse.]

How long would you say it was between when the two of you partnered up and when you came to me?

[Jesse flinches only subtly, shutting his eyes while Flynn gets it all out. It's good, venting. He can't blame the kid for being frustrated, for resenting them or even hating them. Jesse would have reacted worse to this situation. Far worse. He certainly wouldn't be sitting down for story time.

He looks up at Saul's prompting, his response mumbled:]

A little over two months.

[Jesse turns his gaze to Flynn.]

Saul's right. He didn't know what he was doing, though he sure as hell wasn't gonna admit that. I had to walk him through everything and we were lucky we didn't get killed, 'cause it was pretty much a blind-leading-the-blind situation. I didn't know shit about running an operation as big as he wanted it. But he knew he was dying and he needed as much money as he could get, as fast as possible, and he wasn't gonna take "no" for an answer, not from anybody.

He didn't need the money. [ He corrected him, sure, but he was a lot calmer now that they weren't being evasive. ] He coulda gotten it from... friends who wanted to help him, charity drives. Like no one would have... he didn't need to do this, ok? Let's get that out. He chose it.

[Saul's quick to shake his head.]

In reality, yeah, he chose it. But you can't ignore the fact that in the beginning, he believed it was something he needed to do. Delusion's a powerful thing, as is — and I'm speaking from experience, here — the need to provide for one's family. But —

[He raises his hands, submissive.]

We'll avoid using that word. He wanted the money, and he, being the brilliant man he was, figured out a way to get it.

He was greedy.

[Jesse has no problem acknowledging that.]

There were a lotta chances for him to walk away. Not empty-handed, either. About a year in, we got somebody who wanted to buy out the business, take out the competition. Millions of dollars just for us to promise we'd stop cooking. And he wouldn't take it. Wouldn't let me take it, either. His "empire" - that's what he called it... It was more important to him than anything. At least by the end.

[ Flynn was all set to argue the point, but Jesse made it more clearly than he did. It was never about the money. ]

It was something he needed to do to be powerful. His dad died when he was a kid of some... maybe it was cancer, but he was frail and it freaked him out. Told me he didn't want me to see him like that.

Like I would have judged him, I guess.[ It's a sore point. Flynn was disabled, needing help to pull up his trousers. But Heaven Forbid his dad actually have to rely on people in the same way. ]

[Saul doesn't know what to do with that information. He's sure Flynn doesn't want pity, but a sympathetic look crosses his features anyway. He can't help but feel bad.]

Jesus. Well —

[Moving on, Saul settles a hand on his glass to fidget with it.]

Needless to say, things got outta control fast. As far as my role in all this goes, I provided... services. Money laundering, mostly, along with legal expertise as needed. I put Walt in touch with some people, too, which proved...

[Is disastrous too dramatic a word? He looks to Jesse again, throat suddenly tight.

Gus. Mike. The cartel. It can all be traced back to Saul.]

[It makes sense, what Flynn's saying. Everything Walt ever did all came down to his thirst for power. Something even Jesse recognized as being rooted in fear. The fear of mortality, fragility, impotence... Which made Walt all the more pathetic, in Jesse's opinion. What did any of it matter, in the end?

Jesse meets Saul's eyes, breathing a short sigh.]

It was a business. We were trying to run it like one.

[Saul's hardly to blame for all that shit.]

Walt had other ideas. He didn't like working with people. He wanted 'em to work for him. He couldn't get it through his head that he was a nobody. Anybody who tried to put him in his place, he killed 'em. Or he made me do it. You know, as long as they ended up dead.

[ Whether or not Flynn wants sympathy, he does appreciate that Saul seems to gather its importance. This encounter is taking a lot out of him, so resentment can wait, if it comes. ]

You're still doing that stuff now?

[ It's only technically a question. Flynn doesn't see a reason why they wouldn't be. Walt didn't make them join up with him. And even if he had, it would probably take more than his mere absence to get them to stop. ]

[This is a deer in the headlights moment for Saul.

He wants to counter by asking, Wasn't this supposed to be about Walt?

But there's no taking Walt out of the equation. Jesse wouldn't be selling product — at least probably not of this quantity — if Walt hadn't taken him under his twisted wing. Saul certainly wouldn't be working with Jesse so willingly. Saul might not have come into further contact with Jesse at all, ever, regarding anything. They might not even be here.

It's too much to think about, and every explanation he comes up with is just another excuse.

So he says, without quite meeting Flynn's gaze:] We know what our strengths are.

[To answer more directly:]

Yeah, we're still doing it.

[Whether it's pure curiosity or whether Flynn intends to do something with that information, Jesse doesn't care either way. They owe him the truth.]

Jesus, are you stupid? [ He's not even angry - it literally makes no sense to him that they would think it's a good idea isn't of... well, ok, Jesse, doesn't seem proud of it, but Saul, while he is guilty, doesn't see how foolish it is.

So he's directing this mostly at Saul. ] Like maybe whatever your powers are here are giving you an advantage and... whatever cred people think they get for working with ImPorts, but like... you both disappeared, without a trace, leaving like, nothing but shit behind you. Like I'm pretty sure only my dad got what he wanted, with his Sonny death or whatever.

This is where your strengths are? Seriously?

[ A shake of his head. ] Fucking stop, ok? Before you get people killed who can't come back, Jesus.

[Saul's expression doesn't change while Flynn goes off. It doesn't change after, either, when Saul meets Flynn's gaze.

He's not here to be judged and given advice by a teenager.

He'll do Flynn the courtesy of nodding his acknowledgement (albeit barely), but that's all.]

What else do you want to know?

[Jesse says nothing. He appreciates Flynn's feelings about this. They're absolutely valid, given that this business destroyed his family. But that family - and Flynn himself - are no longer involved in any of it. He doesn't get a vote.

And besides, Jesse now has the power to resurrect others. No one dies without his permission, imPort or human.]

You asked me here. [ He points at both of them. ] You told me you were going to be honest, so, um... you're going to have to actually be that, because, telling me you're doing this because you're good at it, is kind of breaking that, when you're obviously... fuck ups at it.

Shit, I'd respect you more if you said 'I like seeing people hurt and dying so long as I get mine', because at least that isn't trying to kid yourselves.

Honesty. Otherwise, this bullshit is done. [ He gathers his crutches as he waits for their answer. ]

Edited (HTML) 2016-05-28 17:08 (UTC)

[Saul almost laughs. No, they're not fuck ups at it. Walt was the fuck up. If Walt had kept his ego in check and his sanity reeled in, the two of them would have been just fine.

Maybe not forever, but neither of them would've wound up like this. Jesse especially.]

That description doesn't fit either of us, kid. You know who it does fit? Your father.

[He nearly spits those last two words.]

If you wanna leave, you know where the door is — but I need you to know that Jesse and I have been nothing but honest with you so far. And this is it, you get me? This was my offer: One meeting, between the three of us, to clear the air. One. You don't get another chance.

So you can either believe us, which, hey, I know that's hard to do, given the circumstances — but it's either that, or it's nothing. I asked you here because I wanted to give you the opportunity to start sorting out your own shit. Not our shit. Yours.

[Again, Jesse fails to react. He's here to discuss the past, not the present, and there is certainly no part of him that finds it necessary to justify his choices. If it makes Flynn feel better to call him a murderer or a sadist, that's fine. Jesse won't deny it. Unfortunately, he won't stop being either one of those things no matter how much of a tantrum Flynn throws here.]

I'm sorry you're thinking that I've got some... I don't know, delusion about my dad, but throwing all the blame on him is very convenient. You don't get it, do you. I have had to take what happened apart bit by bit. Like forensically. Trust me. I've had a chance to sort my shit.

I don't know why you called me here, honestly. If you were so brilliant, you'd have left him long in the dust for a start, so yeah, you're bullshitting me, so no, you're not living up to your end.

[ He sighed. He was tired. ] You want me to be grateful? Like you got that tone. Like you're all doing this for my benefit, when it's suiting you. Kinda know that tone from somewhere.

[Saul, who is now officially out of patience, drums his fingers on the tabletop once Flynn is finished.

Eventually, he finds words.]

You wanna slap this olive branch out of my hands, fine. We're done here.

[Unless Jesse has any bright ideas.]

[Jesse doesn't have any bright ideas. Jesse has plenty of stories, though. Stories too horrifying to lay on a teenager, especially about the kid's father. But, boy, does the bitterness come out.]

Funny.

[He's not laughing, of course, but he throws a glance in Saul's direction.]

Why didn't we think of that, Saul? We coulda just walked away.

[It's not like Walt tortured and murdered him for that or anything.]

[Flatter than a crepe:] 'Cause we're idiots, apparently.

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[closed] listen, I don't really know you

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