Notes: I figure I don't need to say this, but just as a reminder. I'm trying (being the key word, 'cause I'm not sure how successful I am at characterization) to write from the point of views from whatever character the chapter is from. Their thoughts or ideas aren't necessarily my own.

Chapter 7:

Long after Mr. White had fallen asleep and was snoring softly behind Jesse, he lay awake in the dark, staring wide-eyed and straight ahead. He was trying to memorize and catalogue every detail of the kitchen he was facing, striving to keep his mind away from any thoughts of what had just happened or the man that slept comfortably behind him.

It was a futile endeavor, of course. Every few seconds his thoughts eventually circled back to Mr. White and the fact that they had…fucked. Jesse belatedly figured he was in some sort of shock. The situation was just too unreal that he could hardly comprehend it. If anyone had told him he would eventually sleep with a man, let alone his former teacher he had loathed, he would have punched them in the face and laughed at the stupid bitch.

Mr. White had said he loved him. Jesse wasn't sure how to handle that. Didn't Mr. White love his wife, his kids? Was it the same kind of love? How could his partner love him like that? Jesse was stupid, a junkie, a nobody. Mrs. White was beautiful in that older lady kind of way Mr. White kind of dudes went for, and Mr. White had a family and… Why would he give all of that up for him? Was Mr. White even going to give it up for him? Or did Mr. White plan to go back to his family when things had blown over? Was Jesse just Mr. White's backup fuck now that the meth business had pushed the wife and children away?

Hundreds of questions whirred in his brain, circling and repeating, a cacophony in his mind that threatened to drive him over the edge. He felt like he was going to be sick. Jesse scrambled up, untangling himself from Mr. White's iron grip on his torso. The older man groaned in his sleep, his hand reaching out in search of his suddenly missing bed partner. Jesse ignored it, rushing instead towards the bathroom.

He barely made it before he was puking into the toilet, heaving over and over again until he felt his stomach cramping in pain from the lurches. There was nothing left. He was empty. Jesse flushed and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and trying to settle his still uneasy stomach.

This was so fucked up. Grimacing and clamping his eyes shut tighter, Jesse gripped the short strands of his hair, pulling at the roots, trying to ground himself with the sting of pain. Mr. White was like some kind of fucked up father to him. Though he would never admit it, he had soaked up whatever attention, praise, and affection the older man had shown him. And now…this was just another… thing he had taken from Mr. White, craving his deranged attention even now. But who had sex with their father figure besides perverts or kids with daddy issues? A self-deprecating laugh escaped him. Oh boy, did he have issues to spare.

So he was a pervert too, because he had enjoyed it, hadn't he? He had let Mr. White jack him off. His dick had been hard. He had come. And he had let Mr. White….put his cock in him. A shudder ran through Jesse at the thought. Now that it was over he was disgusted with himself, with the act that he had participated in. He had been reluctant during their coupling, yeah, but he hadn't fought it hard enough.

So did that make him a faggot as well?

Sex with Mr. White had felt good in its own way. Jesse could admit it to himself despite his revulsion at the realization. It hadn't been the same as with a woman, as with Jane, or Andrea. But even Jesse wasn't oblivious to the connection he had with Mr. White. He wasn't sure that necessarily meant they were supposed to have sex…but he could admit that he and Mr. White were connected in some shitty way that was inescapable for the both of them.

"Jesse."

He jumped, his eyes flying open in shock. Fear too, if he was being honest. Mr. White stood above him, still completely naked. He looked comfortable despite his nudeness, confident and in control like always. He cleared his throat, and blinked, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't get him in trouble with the older man.

"Come to bed."

Mr. White extended his hand and Jesse took it despite himself, following his partner back to the cot.

It was several more hours before he fell into a fitful sleep.

…..

Over the next few days Jesse struggled with his thoughts and emotions. He was in turmoil, trying to come to terms with the new aspect of his relationship with Mr. White. The older man didn't touch him or make any further advances besides their sleeping arrangement, but Jesse always felt on edge, was continuously waiting for Mr. White to corner him and demand sex again.

Part of him promised he would fight the next time Mr. White tried to coerce or force him into fucking again. He would start with a firm 'no' and then fight for all he was worth if that wasn't enough. Jesse contemplated hiding weapons around the cabin in case it came to an all-out fight. It wouldn't hurt to be prepared.

And yet… Deep down, in the recesses of his mind and gut that he tried vainly to ignore, Jesse yearned for Mr. White's attention. He couldn't believe that such a powerful male could desire him when he could have anyone. If Mr. White wanted to have sex, if it meant that Jesse was still precious to him, then who was he to deny his partner? And it had felt good, he reminded himself. Mr. White had been kind, giving. Heisenberg hadn't taken over.

But whenever those thoughts entered his mind he began to panic, fearing he was betraying himself. He wasn't gay, wasn't attracted to Mr. White. He just looked up to the old fuck, and Mr. White was taking advantage of that.

Right?

It was exhausting, arguing and debating with himself. He wasn't sleeping well, wasn't eating enough. Jesse began to get moody again, lashing out at Mr. White whenever he spoke to him. He knew it couldn't go on the way it was, but he wasn't sure how to move on from where he was at.

…..

It continued like that for some time. His mood continued to spiral lower. Self-hate filled him, battling with the longing for any attention he could get from his partner. Fear that he was gay and disgust with the possibility tore at his heart. And yet he sought out ways to interact with Mr. White, even as his mood dipped into the lowest recesses of desolation at the inner turmoil his teacher had put him through.

A week before Ed was supposed to return to the cabin, Mr. White and he were eating dinner when the older man finally confronted him. "Jesse," he began, the authoritative tone pissing Jesse off right from the get-go. "I thought you could work things out yourself, but apparently I'm going to have to talk it through with you. So tell me, what's going on? Why are you pouting?"

Pouting?! Jesus Christ, Mr. White sure knew how to send him into a rage. "I'm not a little kid!" he hissed. He knew the word choice was deliberate. Mr. White was such a bastard.

"Then quit acting like it," Mr. White countered, glaring at him over the top of his glasses.

Jesse pounded his fist on the wobbly table, the silverware clattering from the force of his hand. He took a deep breath and then returned the glare, adrenaline and confidence surging through him. "Sorry I'm taking too long to process how much of a sick fuck you are, Mr. White. Please forgive me," he spat out, sarcasm flooding his voice.

An arched eyebrow greeted his words and then Mr. White was standing, pushing himself away from the table, towering over him. He pushed in his chair, ever the fucking prissy ass gentleman, and began to approach.

Jesse scrambled awkwardly, trying to get to his feet and retreat before the older man reached him. He was too slow, always too slow, and Mr. White's vice grip was on him before he could get away. A strong hand was clenched on his chin, crushing his jaw. Mr. White tilted Jesse's face up, easily overpowering any resistance Jesse fought back with. How was the old cancer-ridden fuck so strong?!

"I forgive you, Jesse," Mr. White whispered before his lips were smashed against his.

He flailed, kicking out at Mr. White, trying to get away from the demanding mouth that was devouring him. His partner avoided his thrashing limbs and instead straddled him, trapping him on the chair. His other hand captured one of Jesse's wrists, enveloping it in as tight of grip as the other held his jaw in.

"I must apologize," Mr. White said a few moments later, breaking the one sided kiss. Jesse heaved heavily, taking a much needed deep breath. "I intended to give you all of the time you needed in order to accept us."

Us?! Oh, so they were a couple now, huh?

"But I can't keep away from you, Jesse. I've denied myself for too long."

And then Mr. White's mouth was on his, overwhelming and dominating in all of the wrong ways. He resumed fighting, bucking his hips and trying to dislodge his teacher. Mr. White groaned, taking pleasure in the fight, in his resistance. His tongue lapped fiercely at Jesse's, trying to coax a more positive reaction from the younger male.

Jesse finally remembered one of his hands wasn't restrained and he swung at Mr. White, getting a semi-accurate blow to land on the side of his head. It certainly wasn't a powerful hit, but it was enough to distract Mr. White and get him to release his grip on his face. He found enough leverage and pushed Mr. White away, the older man stumbling as he fell off of Jesse's lap. Jesse found his feet and made a break for the other side of the cabin. If he could put enough space between himself and the sick fuck, if he could just get away…

He forgot his own words sometimes. Hadn't it been him that had told Hank that Mr. White was lucky, always won? What was the point in fighting back? Just as Jesse cleared the small table he and his partner had been dining at, a hand reached out and fastened down on his ankle, effectively tripping him. The floor greeted him rather soundly, and Jesse was instantly reminded of late night benders when he found himself in the same position, nestled firmly against the floor with a throbbing body and pounding head.

Before he could get his bearings, Mr. White was on him again, flipping him over and straddling his prone body. A snarl of rage was curling Mr. White's lips, and Jesse half expected his partner to strike him. Instead, Mr. White nestled himself firmly on top of him before leaning back and taking hold of the outline of Jesse's cock in a firm, but not painful, grip. Jesse realized in that moment that he was achingly hard. Shame flooded him. Mr. White's hand on him felt overwhelming and dominating in all of the…right ways. The awareness hit him like a bullet ripping through his chest.

Jesse was so tired of fighting. It was so much easier to give in to Mr. White, to take the attention and pleasure the older man was willing to give him. But did he really want it? He just didn't know. How was he supposed to figure this shit out when Mr. White kept assaulting him? He groaned when Mr. White squeezed slightly, capturing his attention and breaking him from his thoughts.

"I love you Jesse, and I'll admit I find pleasure in our…scuffles." Mr. White smirked at that, the anger gone from his face, replaced by amusement and fondness. "But this is getting ridiculous. Enough for tonight."

He nodded, his body sagging and the tension leaving his shoulders. And then Mr. White's lips were on his again and he was returning the kiss, losing himself in the older man.

And he was okay with that. It was easier that way.

…..

He was surprised by how similar their routine was even after they started sleeping with each other. They still bickered, still did their chores, Jesse still went on his nature walks, Mr. White still cooked for the both of them. The only difference was the way Mr. White openly looked at him now, willingly showing his adoration. It made Jesse uncomfortable, but it also warmed his chest, made his heart beat faster. He had never felt so loved, and he soaked it up desperately, reveling in the attention in the days before Ed was set to show up.

Of course, there was no denying that there was a big difference in their lives. The fact they slept in the same bed, and engaged in activities that the thought of had at one point in time made Jesse's skin crawl. It was such a large change, but also such a subtle difference that it made Jesse's head spin. He didn't understand how something so earth shattering could make such a small difference in his life. Things with Mr. White were always a conundrum.

Since succumbing to the desires of Mr. White, Jesse had strove to keep all negative thoughts about the situation out of his head. In the back of his mind a part of him screamed "traitor!" over and over and over again. If he had listened to that part he would have thought he was betraying himself, letting Mr. White own him in a way he had resisted since the beginning of their partnership. But it was simpler to let Mr. White take care of him, to let the older man soothe his loneliness and make him feel loved.

He didn't listen to the little voice that screamed that the only reason he stayed was because of the threat to Andrea and Brock, not because of any happiness he felt when near Mr. White. He didn't listen when the voice hollered that he was a coward and a fool, that his partner was only using him…again. And he ignored the way the voice screamed that he wasn't gay, asking why he let his former teacher put his hands on him.

It was easier to let Mr. White's soothing baritone drown out the shouts in his own mind, to let himself get washed away by the nauseating pleasure the older man had to offer. Jesse couldn't deny that there was some positives in their newfound relationship despite any misgivings he felt. And slowly but surely, those feelings were melting away.

On the morning of Ed's arrival, Mr. White woke him with soft kisses on his face before pulling him in to a tight embrace. They "made love", as Mr. White put it. His partner entered him slowly, softly, kissing him delicately and cradling him as if he were a cherished prize that could easily break.

They had only fucked in one other position besides missionary. A few mornings after their dinner, when Jesse had finally given in, Mr. White had accosted him after their chores were finished. It was true, he had been giving Mr. White lip, had been irritable about one thing or the other. Mr. White had warned him he was getting annoyed and that he'd 'teach him a lesson' if he didn't quit complaining. Jesse had felt unwanted arousal curl in his gut at the threat and had dared the older man to make good on his warning, not realizing how Mr. White would interpret his rebuttal..

Mr. White had obliged and had taken Jesse from behind, on the floor, and Jesse had never felt so humiliated in his life. It had been rough, causing Jesse to cry from the pain. He'd never admit he had been terrified of Mr. White in that moment either, but he remembered the panic he had felt with startling clarity. He had wanted to provoke his teacher, but as Mr. White showed him just how dangerous he could be, Jesse had regretted it.

To his credit, when Mr. White realized the tears had been genuine, that the whimpers hadn't been made out of pleasure, that Jesse was too terrified of the consequences to ask him to stop, Mr. White had pulled out and embraced him, shushing him with apology after apology.

Perhaps that was why he had been so gentle since then, why Mr. White had treated him as if he were so fragile. It irked Jesse to be treated like a pathetic damsel or some shit like that, but it also made him feel loved, so he didn't object.

"Ed should be here in a few hours," Mr. White murmured when they had both been sated. The older man was idly drawing patterns on his skin, and Jesse shivered from the gentle touches.

He had nothing to say to that, so he simply nodded. He couldn't place the emotion that tightened his chest at the thought that Ed would soon be there. His arrival would break the illusion he had created of his life with Mr. White – that they were the last living humans, alone in a peaceful world. Ed would remind him of his old life, remind him that he had once had freedom, friends, women… It mixed him up, filled him with confusion. Was he happy Ed was coming, or was he upset?

"Let's get dressed, Jesse."

All he could do was nod again.

…..

They had eaten lunch, cleaned up the sparse clutter, made the cot, and were now resting, waiting for the tell-tale rumble of Ed's truck coming up the drive. Mr. White sat in the chair by the TV, his eyes closed as he dozed. Jesse was perched on the cot, keeping an eye on the window that looked out to the front yard. Anticipation curled in his gut. He still wasn't sure if he was eager to see Ed's truck grumble onto the lawn or more eager for him to leave again.

An hour or so passed like that, the two of them silent, lost in their own thoughts. When Jesse finally heard a low chugging he almost believed it was in his own imagination. But no, there was the vehicle slowing down as it neared the cabin. Jesse's heart began to beat rapidly.

"Mr. White," he gasped, his voice weak.

His partner opened his eyes instantly, a dangerous predator ready and alert. His gaze flicked towards the window and he nodded, standing and straightening his clothes. Without moving himself, he watched as Mr. White approached him. "Ready, Jesse?" he asked, extending his hand towards him. Jesse eyed the hand suspiciously, but took it anyway, and was easily hauled to his feet.

"I love you," Mr. White murmured as he planted a soft kiss on his lips.

Surprised, he couldn't even react to the kiss before Mr. White pulled away. There was a deep uncertainty in his teacher's eyes that Jesse had never seen before and it scared him. What was Mr. White so worried about? Did he think Jesse was going to run now that Ed was entering their bubble? Was he too reminded of their previous life by the arrival of an outsider?

Before he could ask, Mr. White was moving away to open the cabin door.

Mr. White's hand had just closed around the handle of the front door when it was pushed open, knocking into Mr. White and causing him to stumble. An undignified grunt escaped the older man and Jesse moved forward as Mr. White was racked with a coughing fit.

"Hey Jess," a cold voice greeted, and he instantly stilled, needles of panic prickling across his skin.

Forcing himself to look away from the hacking Mr. White, he looked at the open door. Fear froze his insides and his eyes bulged. He stood still like a fucking clichéd deer in the headlights.

Todd stood in the doorway, a gun held to Ed's head, who stood slightly in front of him, an unwilling human shield. One of Ed's eyes was swollen shut, his cheek had a deep bruise, and his mouth was duck taped shut. Two other men dressed in black stood closely behind, guns held at the ready. Jesse couldn't be sure, but he thought he recognized them as members of Jack's gang.

"What are you doing here?" Jesse asked Todd, his words barely audible, his fear choking his throat. An image of Drew Sharp, the young boy Todd had heartlessly murdered, flashed behind his eyes.

Todd smiled and his dull eyes gleamed with triumph. The sick fuck was getting off on his fear; Jesse was sure of it. He was as bad as Mr. White. "I missed you, Jess."

"My name's Jesse," he hissed, anger replacing the dread for just a moment.

Jack's nephew tilted his head, studying him like he was some sort of specimen that was particularly fascinating. "Okay. Jesse." Todd nodded at his own words.

He was dumbfounded. How was he supposed to act in this situation? Should he try asking questions to stall? Cry and beg for mercy? Why did all of this shit happen after he had partnered up with Mr. White? The dude had really fucked up his life.

"Why are you here? Like really?" was the question he decided on. It seemed like a fair inquiry.

Todd clicked his tongue. "Well now, aren't ya gonna invite me in first?"

Jeeeeeesus Christ. What a lunatic. "Hell no, bitch! You can stay right where you are." He suddenly realized Mr. White wasn't coughing anymore and hope dared to flutter in his chest.

A dark cloud passed over Todd's face and with an angry grimace he pointed the gun at Ed's foot and fired. The bullet exploded out of the barrel and into the hostage's foot, and Ed howled behind the tape, his one good eye widening in shock and pain. Jesse too cried out, his own panic skyrocketing.

"Fine Todd, whatever you want! Fuck! Come in then!" he babbled, not noticing that tears of terror had started to build up in his eyes.

Ed groaned as Todd pushed him forward. Just like that, the look of rage that had contorted Todd's face was gone, and he was the dopey, soft-spoken man from before. One of the gang members remained outside while the other entered. He didn't enter too far, instead leaning against the doorjamb and aiming his gun at Mr. White.

"To be honest, Jesse," Todd began as he shoved Ed into a chair that sat at the table, "I came out here for Mr. White."

When Todd said his partner's name, disgust curled deep. How dare this little shit even say Mr. White's name.

"I planned to kill him," Todd explained, plopping into another chair and propping his feet up on the table. He let the gun dangle loosely from his fingers, but Jesse could tell he was poised to use it. Ed was slumped in his chair, breathing heavily. Jesse chanced a look at Mr. White, who was leaning against the wall, glaring at Todd. "He took away my prize. You, I mean."

Jesse forced back a shudder. "How did you find us?" he asked instead, trying to keep Todd talking.

Todd grinned widely, proud of himself. "Lots of interrogations. Uncle Jack wasn't happy, but he let me look for Mr. White all I wanted and let the guys help too." The 'guys' meaning members from the gang, Jesse guessed. "He figured having Mr. White dead was better anyway." Todd looked over at the older man now, a look of scorn crossing his face. "Less of a threat that way, I guess. Not sure why he was worried though." A smirk full of contempt curled his lip. "A cousin of mine actually used good ol' Ed here's services once. After a while we got the idea that maybe it was him that assisted Mr. White. I mean, no one is better than Ed!" He leaned forward and patted the hostage on the shoulder, ignoring the way the other man shirked away from his touch.

He should have known life with Mr. White was too good to be true. Sooner or later shit hit the fan like it always did. He should have expected Todd, or some other bitch, to show up and ruin any good in his life. Jesse shook his head, looking down at his socked feet and striving not to cry.

"Todd, you're making a mistake."

Jesse had almost forgotten Mr. White was still there. The hope he had felt in his chest when he had first realized Mr. White was still there had fizzled and died, but just hearing the grizzled Heisenberg tone, the authority and power… he felt safe that it was directed towards an enemy and not him.

Leaden eyes stared blankly at Mr. White, regarding him with a detached air. "I used to idolize you," Todd stated simply. "And now you're dead."

And with that, Todd lifted his arm and fired his gun at Mr. White, and Jesse watched in horror as a red circle of blood blossomed in Mr. White's upper chest, near his shoulder.

"Mr. White!" he screamed, rushing towards his partner, who looked down at his wound with a surprised expression. His former teacher leaned more heavily against the wall and began to slide down, blood flowing more rapidly from the wound by the time Jesse made it over to him. Jesse frantically pressed his hands against the bullet hole, trying to stop the precious liquid from escaping.

The last thing he saw was Mr. White's lips forming his name before his world blossomed into stars and then went black.