Scissors

After Mike tells Walter to just shut up, and for once the other man actually listens, Mike's not conscious of him anymore.

Instead, his closed eyes are filled with a vision of Jesse Pinkman, the last time he had seen him. Eyes wide and innocent, even now. So very loyal and desperate for acceptance, for belonging.

He wonders how Jesse will ever make it now. He won't be "out", as much as he'd like to be convinced he could be. Mike knows Walter has his claws in deep even if Jesse can't see the jagged marks.

He can't protect Jesse, and he can't protect Kaylee, can't provide for her, and it breaks his heart.

But if anyone could make it right for her, Jesse could. Jesse with his big heart and his love of children. He can remember tailing Jesse and watching him play with that little boy, with Brock, eyes shining with happiness Mike had never seen in him.

He hopes, though he knows it's in vain, that Jesse is really "out". That Kaylee never hears of the DEA investigation, of the manhunt for him.

He understands Lydia's fear now, pictures Kaylee looking out her window, even as she grows and leaves home, goes to college, pictures her peeking out her window to see if maybe he'd decided to come home, to stop in.

Maybe he will. Mike hasn't ever given much thought to what comes next, but he's going to find out, now.

Maybe he'll see her again one day.

As his head lulls downward, as everything goes dark, he imagines Kaylee's flowing hair as she swings on the swings, carefree and happy.

He's struck by a strange thought: If Jesse ever finds out, he'll be destroyed.

Maybe Jesse will keep waiting for him, too. The poor kid.

Mike feels himself fall into darkness. It's warmer than he thought it'd be. Like a blanket of black. It's so easy to fall asleep.

It's time.