I'm not a big fan of OC's in fanfiction because I (personally) think they make the stories boring for other readers, but this one wouldn't really work without one so I'll try to keep the part kind of superficial. I'm also not a big fan of long, multi-chapter fanfitions because I hate reading them myself, but... Here's to hoping not everyone thinks like me? Lol I apologize in advance if this story isn't compatible with the time line of the show, but I don't have the time or energy to do that much research right now. I'll try to keep it as best I can from memory, though! And as always, I don't own these characters, blah blah blah, and thanks for reading =)
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"Son of a bitch!" Jesse yelled at the screen, slamming his phone shut and squeezing it tightly in front of himself.
This was the third time he had tried to reach Walt to come pick him up, and he was met with the usual 'don't call me at my house, you idiot' bullshit. Walt was always full of great advice when it came to telling Jesse that he needed to 'handle things', but then when Jesse found himself abandoned thirty minutes out of town, Mr. White was no where to be seen to help him out. He could usually get a ride here or there from one of his friends, but he hated having to rely on addicts to bring him places because situations like this were always a constant possibility with them. At the same time, there are certain places he didn't need to have his car seen, and the territory of other dealers was pretty high on that list. In fact, he didn't even want to be walking in this area, but it seemed like walking was the only available option at the moment. Mr. White would not accept his calls, and his phone would die long before anyone else would even answer, let alone having to explain the situation to them fifty times before they understood what he was asking of them.
It was getting dark quickly so he began to pick up the pace, walking briskly in the general direction of 'home'.
"Let's see," He thought, "that's about a half-hour away on the highway in a car, so on foot (and on back roads) it should take me... Well, I'll be old enough to retire, anyway. Fuck."
A set of headlights pierced the distance, and without even thinking, Jesse stuck his thumb out as they approached. Luckily they sped right past him without so much as a second thought, and Jesse quickly began to evaluate his decision to try and flag them down in the first place. It wouldn't have been the first time that he hitchhiked, of course, but there were so many horror stories out there that he tried to make it an absolute last resort whenever possible. Naturally, he was thinking only of his own personal safety while making this assessment, and not even considering the fact that most people would drive right past him anyway because he looked like a homeless, burned out gang member. They'd have to be crazier to stop than he would have to be to get in the car.
Several more cars sped past in both directions, but this time Jesse kept his hands in his pockets. New Mexico had been in the middle of a warm-front these last few days, but from Jesse's perspective, it seemed to be over now. Spring was definitely here, but that didn't say much for walking around outside in a hoodie at night. Jesse paused and glanced back behind him, hoping to glean some motivation by how far he had already come. Shit. A mile, maybe? He hung his head dejectedly for a moment, and then pulled his phone back out of his pocket. The battery only had one bar left, and it was blinking. He placed it back into his pocket, deciding it would be best to save it as much as possible, and started walking again. More cars zoomed past, and each one sent a rush of frigid evening air straight up his spine.
"Fuck it." He thought, nuzzling down into the oversized neck of his hoodie, "I'm taking my chances with the axe murderers. Next car that stops is bringing me home..."
Unfortunately, no one did. The night grew thick and black, and the temperature kept steadily dropping. He had no idea how much time had passed because he was too afraid to check his phone, but he was shivering from the cold and jumping up and down desperately to keep his blood flowing and catch the attention of passing motorists. It must have been getting late, because the traffic was slowing down, too, and that was bad news for him. Finally, a pair of headlights topped the small hill behind him, and as they grew closer Jesse decided that he was NOT going to let this one pass. They were going to stop for him because he was going to make them stop, end of story.
The old pickup didn't change speed, or offer any other indication that it might slow down to help him, but Jesse didn't care—he had a plan. From the side of the road he began waving his arms wildly like a chicken, but when he saw that that was having little effect on the driver, he stepped out into the road before the truck could completely close the distance between them. Still, the truck did not change speed, and Jesse's arms fell limply to his side as stood there for a moment, fixated on his own impending doom like a frightened deer. Quickly he realized that the driver was still not slowing down and may not even be able to see him.
"Hey! Yo!" He yelled at the oncoming vehicle, waving his arms wildly again.
Suddenly the distracted driver saw him, and he swerved hard to the left to avoid a manslaughter charge. The stillness of the night was shattered by screaming brake pads grinding on metal, and the pickup came to a complete stop about twenty yards up the road from where Jesse had been standing. Jesse began walking over to the vehicle cautiously, but stopped short when he saw the driver's head pop out of the window. A string of angry, guttural insults flew from the truck, followed by what looked like a display of the middle finger before the driver pulled the vehicle back onto the road and sped off into the night.
"Yeah, thanks for nothing... dick!" Jesse screamed after him, doubling over with the exhilaration that comes from a sudden dump of adrenaline.
He stood there in the road trying to compose himself for a moment, forearms resting on his tired, buckling knees. He had actually screamed so loudly at the guy that his stomach began to cramp painfully.
Through all of his heavy breathing, he barely heard the low growl of a powerful engine behind him. He snapped back to reality, and suddenly realized that he was standing in the soft glow of yet another set of headlights. He jumped a bit at this realization, thinking he was about to be run over, but the black silhouette on the side of the road was not moving.
It was an older muscle car—late sixties or early seventies perhaps—obviously restored by the sound of it, though he was unable to make it out visually in the blackness of the night. Jesse shielded his eyes from the glare of the headlights. He approached it slowly, barely able to make out the out-of-state vanity plate that read "Crisis".
When he reached the passenger side of the vehicle, the door was pushed open by the person inside. A welcoming rush of warmth came pouring out, caressing Jesse's frozen skin, and it took his every ounce of composure to not just leap inside with no questions asked. Instead, he rested his forearms casually on the edge of the roof (as if this vehicle were not his only chance at salvation), and bent down to glance inside. He was surprised to see the the face of a young, non-axe-murdering female with long black hair behind the wheel, her features highlighted by the soft blue glow of the dashboard light. She looked so familiar, but he was too cold to try and put a name to the face...she reminded him vaguely of Jane.
"Where you headed?" She asked, turning her head slightly to face him.
"Back into town." Jesse responded, gesturing down the road a bit before realizing she couldn't see his hand gestures through the car's roof. "Er.. Albuquerque. Are you headed that way?"
"Not really, but I could be. You look cold..."
"Freezing." Jesse corrected, with a half-hearted smile.
"Well? Get in."
Jesse climbed in to the deep, leathery bucket seat and eagerly closed the door behind him. The car was already at a comfortable temperature for people who hadn't spent the past few hours walking home without a jacket, but the driver could see that he was still visibly cold, so she turned the heat up as high as it would go. He glanced sideways at her in preparation to thank her, but she gave a knowing half-smile and then put the car back into gear. The black Impala jerked powerfully back onto the road, and the engine growled loudly as it picked up speed.
"So... Do you always pick up hitchhikers?" He asked, breaking the silence, "I mean, it's not a very safe thing to do."
"Are you saying I shouldn't trust you?" She responded, not bothering to look for his reaction.
"No, no, no..." Jesse scrambled, trying not to freak her out too much, "I didn't mean—I guess I just assumed that a woman would be less likely to pick up hitchhikers than men. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're a woman because I was pretty freaked out about having to get in some weird dude's car anyway..."
"So... Because I'm a woman, that means I can't be weird?"
"No, I—" Jesse stopped suddenly, wondering if that statement should worry him more than it did.
There was a brief silence before she cracked a smile at Jesse's obvious discomfort, and that put him back at ease for some reason. He decided to stop talking before he dug the hole any deeper, and he closed his eyes as he sunk back into the seat, treasuring every second of the warmth that was blowing onto his skin.
"Look look look!" She exclaimed, startling Jesse out of paradise.
Just ahead, there was a long stretch of open road, and on it were the tail lights of the old pickup that had flipped Jesse off. Jesse glanced over at her, and she had a devious smirk on her face that seemed to be asking him for his permission. He smiled, and with that cue she jerked the heavy car sharply to the left and floored it, quickly catching up alongside of the old truck. The driver of the pickup did a quick double-take, as they were not in a passing zone and a set of headlights had just come into view up ahead in the lane now occupied by the Impala. Jesse locked eyes with the other driver and made a goofy face at him, returning the rude hand gesture as his co-pilot put the pedal to the floor, barely passing the pickup with enough distance to cut in before hitting the on-coming box truck head-on. The driver of the box truck laid on its horn as she sped off in the proper lane, in front of a very angry pickup driver.
"Oh my GOD!" Jesse exclaimed, laughing. "What was that? That was great!"
She didn't say anything, just smiled at the road satisfied while he took a few minutes to calm back down.
"So where do you live exactly?" She asked at last, changing the subject
"I'll show you." He responded, still wheezing in amusement. "It's probably about twenty minutes into town, but you can drop me anywhere along the way if you want. Any little bit helps, believe me. And thank you. Where are you headed?"
"No where, really. I just felt like going for a drive I guess. I live right outside Albuquerque myself so I guess I was heading that way anyway."
"Huh. You live outside Albuquerque? I noticed your plates were from Nebraska or something, did you just move here?"
"Iowa." She chuckled, "And yeah. I have to get around to changing them over before I end up getting a ticket. I just didn't want to risk losing my vanities."
"Yeah, that's why you'd get a ticket..." He joked, raising an eyebrow at her questionable driving style.
"Oh, hah." She responded sarcastically, trying not to smile.
The driver stripped off her jacket, and only then did Jesse realize that he was starting to have feeling in his extremities again. Actually, the vehicle had become quite warm.
"Oh, you can turn that down if you want." He said, reaching for the dial that controls the heat. His hand bumped something heavy in the center console along the way.
"That's okay, I don't m—"
"Jesus Christ, is that a gun?!" Jesse exclaimed, cutting her off and pressing himself firmly against the back of his seat.
She paused a moment, evaluating the appropriate answer to that obvious question.
"Did you think I just randomly drive around at night picking up hitchhikers with no real way of protecting myself?" She responded, choosing not to make eye contact. "I assure you, if I had intended to kill you, you wouldn't have seen the gun until it went off. But, if it makes you that uncomfortable, I can put it away..."
"N—no." Jesse stammered, partially so he didn't appear to be a giant pussy, and partially because he'd be much more comfortable if she just didn't touch it at all. "It's fine. Just unexpected, I guess."
"Surprises around every corner." She stated, making the turn toward Albuquerque.
Most of the ride into town was pretty quiet after that. They exchanged names and superficial chit-chat, but Carla could tell that Jesse was pretty uncomfortable with the gun in the car.
"Turn right up here, this is my road." He said at last.
She turned the vehicle slowly and crept down the residential street. The whole town was clearly sleeping, and suddenly the Impala's engine sounded like a pack of lions all roaring together. Jesse darted up in his seat as they neared his house, and something strange caught his attention. There was a police cruiser parked outside of his house with no officer inside, and another cruiser several feet up the road. He saw flashlights moving about in his backyard.
"Ohh no, no, no, no..." He said, sinking back into the seat and running his fingers through his hair, "Please, I need you to do me a huge favor...Just keep driving. You can drop me off further up the road or whatever, just please don't stop here..."
Carla gave him a strange look, but Jesse's expression was pleading with her not to ask any questions. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket to try and make an emergency call to one of his friends—and of course, it was dead.
"Do you...Have someone you can call or anything?" She asked, glancing over at him sympathetically.
He sighed, in the most depressing way.
"My phone is dead." He responded shortly, clenching his jaw as he leaned back on the headrest, arm falling limp in his lap. "I don't suppose I can use yours?"
She winced, knowing that what she was about to say would not make him very happy. "I don't have one."
Jesse closed his eyes tightly. She could see he was out of options as she rounded the corner further down the block.
"I mean," She corrected, "I don't have one with me. I left it at home. If you don't mind going a little out of the way you can definitely use it."
He glanced over at her, silent at first. "Thanks."
They drove in silence for a little while longer before the car turned sharply into a driveway on the outskirts of town. There weren't many neighbors here, and had Jesse not been so lost in thought as to what he was going to do, he might have actually been envious of her privacy. Yet, the small house looked out of place somehow—it didn't have the same layout as every other house in the state seemed to have, but looked more like a modest-sized custom build. They exited the vehicle, and Jesse followed her up the the remainder of the driveway where she slid her key inside the lock and opened the door.
The entrance was to some kind of foyer, and beyond that was a spacious living room and kitchen, all decorated in dark reds, black and white. It had a very modern feel to it, but was also comforting in a strange way. There was a fifty-gallon fish tank along the back wall, full of tiny little sharks and creepy ornaments that was casting a soothing blue glow on the black leather couch.
"Hang on, I'll grab that charger." She said, entering the kitchen. She began wrestling open what Jesse immediately identified as her junk drawer.
"Nice place you got here." Jesse responded, looking around, "Do you rent or own?"
"Own. Well, actually—built. I always wanted something a little different than everyone else, and I came into a little extra money a few years ago, so I figured, what the hell? Bought a couple acres out here and just...Did my own thing."
"Right on. Looks nice. So what do you do? You know, for a job?"
"I'm... kind of an independent contractor." She said, rustling through a tangle of junk at the back of the drawer. "You know, you show people what you're good at and they hire you here and there for odd jobs as needed. The work isn't always steady, but it pays well if you know how to work the market."
She pulled a phone charger out from the drawer and eyeballed it carefully, wondering if it was the appropriate size.
"That doesn't sound like a bad deal at all." Jesse said, still admiring the décor.
"It's not." She responded, tossing him the charger. "Try that."
She directed him to the nearest outlet, and he plugged the phone into the wall. It lit up immediately and he was able to power it on, at which point he realized it was almost two o'clock in the morning.
"Shit." He said, staring at the screen. "I didn't realize it was so late."
"None of your friends are night owls?" She responded with a smirk, "Now that is unexpected."
"Yeah, tell me about it. They used to be. I'm just gonna call them until they wake up and come get me." Jesse responded, flipping open the phone for what he knew was going to be a pointless adventure.
"Why don't you just stay here tonight?" She asked, stopping Jesse mid-dial. "I'm not going to lie, the couch isn't very comfortable, but it's already 2AM and I doubt your friends are going to want to drive around looking for this place in the middle of the night..."
"I couldn't. I mean, you've already gone so far out of your way to help me out and I appreciate that. I don't want to be in your way."
"Not at all. It's no problem. I'll tell you what," She began, heading toward the stairs, "I have to go to bed because I have stuff to do in the morning, but I'll go grab you a pillow and some blankets, and if you're still here when I wake up I'll know that you couldn't get that ride. If you leave, that's fine too, just lock the door on the way out, okay?"
"Uh.. Yeah. Cool." Jesse said, thumb resting on the 'dial' button of his phone. "Thanks."
She quickly climbed the staircase, and Jesse glanced thoughtfully down at the screen of his phone which was displaying Badger's number. He pondered the situation for a moment, but when he heard Carla's rustling upstairs finally quiet down as she reached the staircase again, he removed his thumb from the button and quickly flipped his phone shut.
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