Mike doesn't at all belong here, but no one gives him a second glance. This is, he guesses, only partly due to the fact that most of the people here are drugged out of their minds. Because this isn't quite as bad as the last crack house he'd helped drag Jesse out of it. This one has a shiny veneer—glass coffee tables, the better to snort coke with, shag carpets, the better to fuck on, and thick dark black out shades…the better to keep out the neighbors.
No, this is less like that crack house and more like Jesse's house once upon a time.
Except the prick that owns this place isn't a thing like Jesse Pinkman.
Mike had him checked out when he'd finally tracked Jesse down, and there wasn't much good about Curtis Evans. There were any number of charges against him on record, but aside from slinging heroin, his favorite pastime appeared to be sexual assault—mostly of boys half his age, which was just a little younger than Jesse.
And from what Mike can tell, Jesse's been here the last three days.
It wouldn't have taken him this long to find the kid except Walt had demanded the lab be shut down for a few days and decontaminated—some bullshit about a cockroach spotting. Jesse had brushed off his inquires and said something about going to see Andrea and Brock with the unexpected downtime.
Mike figured he owed him a bit of space after their last confrontation, and that was his first mistake. Two days later and he finds out Jesse never went to Andrea.
Three days later and he finds himself here.
He carefully makes his way towards the stairs, stepping over and around the passed out bodies littering the floor like so much garbage. He doesn't bother asking anyone here where he can find Jesse, he doubts any of them would be coherent enough to answer even were they inclined to help.
Anyway, Mike has a pretty good idea where to find him. He knows that Jesse is exactly Curtis's type—maybe a bit older, but then Jesse doesn't look it. He heads up the staircase and down the hall, straight for the master bedroom.
He pushes open the door quietly, and neither of the two on the bed notice him. Jesse is beneath Curtis, obviously out of his head on heroin. Mike fights down a flash of anger, because as much as he'd like to slice Curtis open at the neck, he didn't get this far in life by doing every single thing he'd like.
No, he got this far by being careful, and coming prepared. He slips up behind Curtis and puts him in a chokehold, before grabbing the prepped syringe he'd stuck in his back pocket and slamming straight into the vein in the crease of Curtis's elbow. Curtis barely has time to let out a choked protest before the heroin hits him, and Mike releases him and lets him drop down onto the bed.
Jesse scrambles away, coming out of the drug haze a bit with the shock. "What did you do?" he asks.
Mike glances dispassionately at where Curtis is choking on his own vomit. "Putting that heroin I took off you to good use," he says, and Curtis goes still. He's still breathing, but Mike knows it won't be for long.
"Oh god, you've killed him," Jesse whispers, pushing back up to his knees. He's got pants on, which Mike is grateful for, but the top bottom is undone and his shirt is gone. He reaches out to Curtis like he's going to start CPR or something, and Mike grabs him around the waist and pulls him away, spinning him towards the chair in the corner of the room.
"Get dressed," he demands.
"Mike, you can't just—" Jesse breaks off, his breath hitching like he's going to hyperventilate. Sometimes Mike forgets that Jesse never seems to get used to this.
"You want to try looking me in the eye and telling me you're clean enough to have consented to this?" he demands, angrily pointing back at Curtis. "You really think I'd take the chance he'd touch you again? Sell to you again?"
"Mike—" Jesse starts.
Mike ignores him, spotting one of Jesse's hoodies by its garish colors and indecipherable design. He grabs it up off the floor and turns back towards Jesse. "Put this on."
He grabs one of Jesse's arms, narrowing his eyes at the recent track marks, and then shoves the sleeve on. He doesn't give Jesse a chance to pull away before he turns him around and pushes his other arm through the sleeve. He checks behind him to make sure none of Curtis's guys have made a move, and then zips up Jesse's hoodie.
Mike wants to yell at him but this isn't the time or place. "Come on," he says. "We're leaving."
He grabs Jesse by the arm to pull him along but the kid stumbles. Mike grits his teeth, because it's obvious he's spent most of his time here passed out in Curtis's bed. He wishes he could kill the bastard again.
"Did you tell Mr. White?" Jesse asks quietly.
Mike tightens his grip as they start down the stairs, ushering Jesse in front of him. "No," he says. "You want me to?"
Jesse shakes his head, looking nauseous. Mike narrows his eyes and shoves him more quickly down the stairs. Somehow in this fucked up scenario Mike's become the good parent, while Walt is the scary parent. Mike wants to set Jesse straight about that but he's not entirely sure it isn't true.
He keeps an eye on everything, but no one notices them leave. Half-conscious junkies were the only kind of witnesses Mike liked to have.
He puts Jesse in the passenger seat of his untraceable rental and straps him in, before moving around to drop into the driver's seat. He takes a breath and then glances over at Jesse.
"You want to tell me what the hell you were thinking?" he asks, as calm as he can manage.
"I wanted it to stop," Jesse says. "That's all. For a little while."
"Wanted what to stop, Jesse?" he asks.
"Everything," he says, his words catching on the air as he blinks over at Mike. His pupils are still dilated, his eyes watery but startlingly clear.
Mike clenches his jaw and starts the car. There aren't that many safe places he can take Jesse. He knows better than to take him home, or leave him alone for a second. There's always rehab, and he knows he could get Gus behind it. Walt too.
Walter, he thinks angrily. Walter might actually be able to talk some sense into the kid—but at what cost?
So Mike just starts driving, and somehow, he ends up taking the kid home with him.