"There's nothing over there," Jesse said with a frown from his seat across from the older man at the table. His hands were shaking slightly. Walt didn't know if it was the two cups of coffee he'd allowed the kid to have or fear. "At that address."
"That's the location he gave me, Jesse." Walt's phone buzzed and he looked down in time to see the response 'okay' come back from Mike. "The good news is we'll have no problem getting there by eight. You want to wash up?"
"I used to deal over there."
Walt shot him a pointed look.
"Yo – I said used to!" Jesse objected. "Don't look at me like that!"
"Enough."
Jesse swallowed and then took a deep breath. "You're not nervous?"
"No, Jesse," Walt lied. "This feels right." It did not feel right. "Hurry up and get washed up and dressed so we can go."
Jesse eyed him for a moment, as if waiting for something else. More words, maybe, or a signal of some kind.
"Go, Jesse," Walt said gently. "It'll be okay."
It seemed that extra comfort was enough for the moment and Jesse slipped off his chair, padding off in the direction of the bathroom.
Walt closed his eyes briefly. It was easy to tell Jesse it would be okay. He just hoped it wasn't a lie.
Walter eyed Jesse throughout the duration of the car ride to the address.
To his credit, the kid was pretty quiet.
Internally though, Walt knew a million questions and concerns were flying through both their heads.
Jesse's external behavior made it obvious. He was fidgeting constantly with the seatbelt. The seatbelt he'd made no fuss about wearing. Nor had he fussed about being in the backseat. Since that morning, Jesse seemed acquiescent with Walt, likely hopeful that this would end soon and trying not to delay that resolution.
And his restless legs.
"Jesse," Walt tried not to snap for the fourth, perhaps fifth time since they had left the condo, as Jesse's foot connected with the back of his chair.
"Sorry," Jesse quickly responded, stilling his fidgeting for a moment.
"It's okay," Walt said gently. He knew he'd probably be kicked in the back a few more times before they arrived and tried to brace himself for it. He wasn't going to give the kid a hard time over natural nervousness in this situation. "I know you're nervous. But don't be. I'll be there the whole time."
"Uh-huh," Jesse replied absentmindedly. He was now staring at the window. A quick glance in the rearview mirror confirmed his leg was starting to bounce again.
"Were you nervous going to the doctor's as a kid, Jesse?" Walt asked. His initial goal was to try to change the subject to another one, to divert Jesse's thoughts. He then briefly winced at his choice of subject. Not the best one to make him less nervous.
"Only if I knew there were going to be shots," Jesse answered honestly. Then he paused and cleared his throat. "Yo… Mr. White... There won't be shots, right?"
Definitely the wrong subject. "I would doubt it, Jesse…" Walt answered. Though honestly he had no idea. If there was some magic serum that would get the kid back to his usual wiseass adult self, Walt would agree in a heartbeat.
"What if there are, Mr. White? What if we don't know what it is?"
"He'll tell us what it is."
"So there will be shots?" came the incredulous answer. Then his foot connected again with the back of Walt's chair.
"Jesse." Walt clenched his teeth.
"What?" Jesse whined. He slouched down in his seat, trying to be still. "You made me sit here. I could have sat in the front."
"Not in the front. But perhaps not directly behind me…" Walt tried not to growl. To be honest, he had sat the kid directly behind him so that it was easier to keep an eye on him. A moment after getting in the car, he was fearful Jesse would just make a run for it. "Look, we are five minutes away. Okay, Jesse? Can you keep still and calm for five minutes?"
"Probably not," Jesse answered. He caught Walt's eye in the mirror and gave his own look of bewilderment. "What? Mr. White, I'm trying not to lie to you."
Walt shook his head and sighed. "I appreciate that, Jesse. Just keep your feet to yourself if possible so I don't run us off this road…"
"I'm trying." Jesse crossed his arms over his chest.
For the next four minutes, Jesse generally kept true to his attempt and restrained himself from too much fidgeting.
It was only when Walt pulled into the parking lot of a discrete office park at the named address that he felt a small foot connect again with the back of his chair. This time he said nothing.
There was one other car in the parking lot. It was Lexus.
The parking lot, which was small with roughly 15 spots, juxtaposed a two story building that left little to describe. The stucco was basic, drab in color, and there appeared to be perhaps a half dozen offices.
"This is it?" Jesse asked, the first to break the silence sine parking.
"Yes. Apparently," Walt answered. He looked in the rearview mirror. "Ready?"
"Do I get a choice?" Jesse answered, rolling his eyes. He unclipped his seatbelt. "Let's get this over with. I want to be fucking normal again."
Walt shook his head at the language but otherwise didn't react. He unclipped his own seatbelt and opened the car door.
He was surprised not to have to coax Jesse more. He was almost impressed at the kid's bravery. He wasn't sure what he would do in the same situation. Given Jesse's usual rashness, it was a nice change.
Moving away from the car towards the office number he'd written down was a different story. Jesse's bravery gave way a few steps towards the buliding, and he suddenly reached out to grab Walter's hand.
"Mr. White," he said, somewhat breathlessly. He paused then, both in speaking and in moving. His eyes remained locked on the building. "Yo… You promise this is gonna work?"
Walt hesitated in responding. "That what will work, Jesse? Seeing this doctor?" He paused. "I don't know what you expect me to say. It's our only choice right now."
"Yeah, but what if he is really a nut like you said?"
Walt exponentially regretted his words from the previous day. "I didn't say he was a nut, Jesse. Not in the way you're interpreting it." Jesse was still gripping his hand. After another moment on nonresponse, he took the proverbial upper hand and turned the position of his hand so that he was now gripping Jesse's wrist. "Let's go." He gave a gentle tug to move forward.
Jesse didn't fight per se, but his steps were shorter than they needed to be, almost buying time before they got to the office.
Once the entered the door, it was official. They were there.
The office looked normal for a doctor, though small. There was a small seating area with five chairs aligned with small end tables that offered various magazines for reading. A fish tank was in another corner, clean and with a humming filter, offering a distraction of several large goldfish. Between the waiting area and the fish tank was a receptionist desk, behind which an older, gray haired woman sat, wearing a long sleeved gray dress. Nondescript. A computer was in front of her. Beside the desk was a door, likely leading to the exam rooms.
She smiled upon their arrival. "Welcome to Dr. Dumont's office," she greeted. "I'm Maria, his assistant. How may I help you?"
Walt approached her desk, nearly dragging Jesse with him. "Hi, Maria. I spoke to Dr. Dumont yesterday. We have appointment. At eight o'clock." He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was a minute past.
"Excellent, welcome again," she answered, moving her hand to the computer mouse to make a few clicks. "Walter White and Jesse Pinkman, yes?" She looked up at them briefly. "He is expecting you."
Walt paused at her glance and her words. He didn't recall ever sharing full names with the doctor on the phone. He glanced down at Jesse, whose wrist he still held. Jesse didn't seem to notice. He did not know what had and had not been shared.
Walt tried to ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach. The buzz of his phone in his pocket alarmed him but he quickly shook it off. He let go of Jesse to retrieve his phone, and took a look at the text message from Mike. Two words: "arrive okay?".
Walt rolled his eyes. Mike was being a bit overbearing. But one of his roles that he took seriously and which Walt could respect was keeping Jesse safe. The kid often needed strict oversight.
Maria had picked up the phone, likely calling the doctor about their arrival.
Walt quickly texted back: "yes. still alive." He then shoved his phone back into his pocket.
The doctor appeared from the door a moment later. He wore the typical white coat of a physician, and his name was clearly displayed on a pin below his lapel.
"Walt, Jesse," he greeted curtly with a nod. "Please." He stood away from the door to gesture them inside. "Come on in."
Walt studied him briefly. The voice was the same as the one on the phone. He was probably in his late fifties, graying hair with a receding hairline. He had dark brown eyes, almost black. His face depicted a man with little sense of humor, and the start of wrinkles.
Walt put his hand on Jesse's shoulder and steered him towards the door. The doctor let them walk before him and then followed, letting the door click closed behind them.
"Exam room on your right," Dr. Dumont directed.
Walt nearly pushed Jesse into the first door on the right, which presented a typical doctor's examination room. There was the table with fresh white paper pulled over it for sanitary purposes, basic equipment on the wall such as to take a look in noses, throats, and ears, and some cabinets that held other utilities.
"Up on the table, please," Dumont said monotonously as he closed the door behind them.
Walt eyed Jesse. He was quiet, but he looked scared. He was biting his lip, and his hands were clenched. He almost looked ready to run. Walt stepped in and closed the gap between him and the kid. He ignored Jesse's look of disdain as he took him under his arms to lift him up and put him on the table.
"Don't," Jesse hissed under his breath.
"Behave," Walt hissed back.
The doctor was washing his hands in the corner of the room. Upon finishing, he dried them on a paper towel and then pulled two gloves out of a cardboard dispensary.
"Yo, why wash your hands if you're gonna wear gloves anyway?" Jesse asked, frowning.
Dr. Dumont raised his eyebrows at the question, pulling on the second glove with ease. "Never too much precaution over sanitation measures, hm?" he answered. He took a step towards the exam table. "Jesse Pinkman. Born September 14 in the year 1984."
Jesse turned his head from the doctor to look at Walt.
"Look at me, not him," Dr. Dumont instructed. He waited until Jesse met his eye and continued. "That is your birthday, correct?"
Jesse nodded. "Yes. But… How do you – "
"I am here to help you," the doctor interrupted. "Which I can only do effectively if we limit the Q&A to my questions and your answers… Understand?"
Please understand, Walt thought to himself desperately. He was relieved when Jesse nodded. He was also perplexed how this doctor had so much information already.
"You are obviously not appearing to be born in 1984. We're going to do a few things today," the doctor continued. "Basic exam." He smiled briefly as he saw Jesse stiffen. "Nothing painful, don't worry. Though I do need to draw some blood. Four vials. Won't take long depending on your veins…" He took Jesse's wrist in his hand, extending his arm and viewing the inside of it.
"Mr. White," Jesse objected.
"Jesse, it's fine. He wants to help," Walt answered, though he was uneasy himself. The doctor seemed a bit cold, though he had learned expertise and skill sometimes had an inverse relationship with bedside matter.
"You're welcome to hold his hand during that part of the exam." The doctor gave a glance to Walt with a smirk. "If that is what you need to do. Whatever it takes to make this visit short and as least painful as possible."
"How do you know Saul?" Jesse asked, frowning.
"What did I just say?" The doctor just shook his head. "I am leading the Q&A. Not you. My credentials are on the wall," he waved a hand towards some framed diplomas, "if that's relevant to you. But I would wonder who your second opinion might be in this situation."
Jesse remained quiet now, though he kept glancing at Walt.
Walt remained standing, feeling protective of this small version of Jesse. He felt he needed to be able to react on a moment's notice.
"I'm fully transparent with what we need to do here," Dr. Dumont began again. "Basics. Temperature, blood pressure, some reflex tests… Then I'll need a blood sample and a urine sample."
Jesse grimaced.
"But first…" Dumont continued. "Some questions to confirm what I have in your file."
"How do you have a file on him?" Walter asked skeptically.
Dumont turned towards him. "You called me for help, did you not?" he asked.
"I did. But –"
"Then let me do my job."
"You've never seen us before. You've never met us. How do you know his birthday? His full name? How do you have a file?"
Dumont frowned. "Would it be easier if you waited outside?"
"No!" Jesse cried. "No. I want him here."
"Wants and needs are different things, Jesse," Dumont chided. "And I have a job to do which requires the necessities only."
"I need him here," Jesse clarified, voice wavering.
"Doubtful," Dumont answered.
Walt's stomach churned, both at Jesse's sudden preference for his presence and at this questionable background of the doctor.
"Now can we proceed?" Dumont asked impatiently. At the silence of his audience, he continued. "We start with questions… For you, Jesse." He walked over to one of the cabinets, and opened it, pulling out a manila file. He opened it and quickly scanned the first page. "This happened four days ago, correct?"
Jesse squirmed just slightly on the table. "If you mean being part of 'Honey I Shrunk the Kids', yeah. Yeah, it's been about four days since it originally happened."
"Four days," the doctor repeated. He took a pen from his pocket and seemed to check something in the file. "One week before this incident… Did you or did you not take something from the lab?"
Jesse froze. He looked at the doctor in surprise and then his widened eyes moved to Walt. "No," he said.
"No?" the doctor asked. "Look at me, Jesse. Please answer the question."
"The lab?" Walt echoed. He felt unease take over him. "Jesse, did you take something?" Then he frowned. How did the doctor know about the lab? Jesse's eyes bored into him.
"Jesse…" the doctor persisted. "Eyes on me or I will have your friend removed from this room."
'Will have him removed.' Walt mused over the choice of words. Who else was in this facility? He suddenly remembered Mike's suggestion to be armed. No one had searched them yet either.
Jesse's eyes returned to the doctor. "I didn't 'take' anything from the lab."
"You're playing with semantics." The doctor shook his head. "To help you, we need clear answers. Did something from the lab go home with you?"
"Yes," Jesse admitted. He glanced briefly at Walt again. The older man's face had shifted between confusion, anger, disappointment, and exasperation.
"Jesse…" Walt began. "I asked you… I asked what you had taken."
"That was a week before," Jesse responded. He paused, squeezing his eyes shut briefly. "Fuck!" He shook his head. "I didn't take anything. I didn't. When I got home, it was in my jacket. It was there. I didn't take it."
"Did you take it back the next day?" the doctor asked.
"No," Jesse admitted.
"Did you use it?"
Jesse swallowed, glancing again at Walt. He hung his head. "Yeah."
"Good," the doctor answered, checking something else in his file.
"Good?" Walt echoed. "Am I hearing the same conversation here?"
Dr. Dumont turned to him again and narrowed his eyes. "Walter… Let me finish my job here."
Walt was about to interject when Dumont spoke again.
"We have the same boss. And you know he doesn't like to have his time wasted."