A/N: Quote from "Stick to the Status Quo" from High School Musical.

Epilogue

The car broke down right outside of Albuquerque, not very far from the compound at all, but somehow on one of the few roads not flooded with police officers coming to look for the Great Heisenberg, apprehended – in death – at last.

Jesse had been walking for miles. He hadn't been spotted yet; that was the only good thing.

His feet hurt. He was sure they were bleeding. He wished there was a place to stop – maybe to have gotten the car fixed – but he couldn't stop here, or anywhere maybe.

His feet were about to crumble beneath him when he looked up and saw: Eagle View Union Church.

The name sounded familiar, but it took him several minutes to place it – Pacey Anderson. His high school friend, sort of. Her family had run this church. Deanna had talked about going to a birthday party there once.

Maybe he could sneak in the back, if no one was in, and go to sleep for a few hours. Maybe there were some left over wafers and wine he could have.

He pressed his hand against the big wooden door at the front and slowly pushed it in to find it was unlocked.

He almost ran away when he heard sounds coming from inside. Not just sounds, exactly, but music, he soon realized. Faint at first but then louder as he stepped inside (so tired of running, just need to keep walking).

"No, no, no – stick to the stuff you know

If you wanna be cool, follow one simple rule,

Don't mess with the flow, no, no…"

Jesse found himself in a back enclave, surrounded by a few small desks and a few bookcases that seemed mainly populated with various editions of the Bible.

Maybe he could slip back in here; maybe a closet. Sleep until everyone left and then sneak out before everyone came back in the morning. Did he dare?

He looked down at his feet and realized he didn't have much of a choice. If he didn't stop somewhere now, he would probably collapse somewhere along the road.

Jesse had found a quiet, somewhat hidden spot in the back and was letting his eyes slip shut when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He bolted upwards and let out a loud cry, flailing desperately but knowing it would be for nothing. He was caught; he was going back to the compound or to prison or just going to the depths of death or maybe something even worse.

"…Jesse?"

He kept on screaming for a few moments before he recognized the voice – silly, really, considering he knew the place.

Pacey Anderson stood before him. She was a good eight years older than the last time he had seen her in Mr. White's class, but she hadn't changed very much. She had the same blonde hair, still cut into a bob, still wore the same conservative type of outfit – in this case, a sweater over a blouse and a long, flowing white skirt.

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave Jesse a concerned look.

He must have stopped screaming at some point, long enough to look at her.

"Pacey…"

"That's me. What are you doing here?" She lowered her voice. "You've been all over the news, you know."

Jesse could feel his skin heating up, could feel himself beginning to hyperventilate.

"Are you going to turn me in?"

If this were a movie, he would be coolly reaching into his jacket to retrieve a gun right now, or would be leaning in to give her a sultry kiss on the neck.

Instead, he was shivering and trying not to burst into tears. This was a girl he had known for years, who he had thought was nice but just a little weird and probably a little too religious for his taste. Now, she might be all he had left. Hopefully he hadn't made fun of her too many times. It was hard for him to remember if he had.

"No, I'm not."

Jesse ogled at her, not sure whether she was telling the truth or just toying with him.

She shrugged, then looked back at him for what felt like a long time.

"Where are you going? Do you have a plan?"

"Not really." Jesse's voice was raspy. He hadn't talked in a long time; maybe he had forgotten how. "My car broke down."

"You can borrow mine. So long as I get it back once you get where you're going." Pacey picked up a piece of blonde hair and moved it behind her ear. "You could stay here tonight. I mean, it's not much."

"What will your family say? I mean…" Jesse blurrily remembered Pacey's parents telling her not to hang around Jesse, saying that he was a bad influence. The thought almost sent him into hysterics, now.

"Oh, they're not… It's just me, now," she said. "My mother passed away and my father is very sick. I took over the church."

"I'm sorry," Jesse told her. He looked down.

"I heard about your aunt… I'm sorry, too. I should have said something at the time. Sent a card or something. I was… kind of asleep at the wheel on that. Dealing with my own stuff, I guess."

"It's okay."

He was surprised; he hadn't really expected a card from Pacey, or Deanna, or anyone, really. He hadn't expected anything from anyone in a while. He had just faded away in his aunt's house.

And then faded away from himself, eventually.

There was a long moment before Pacey said, "I'm just going to go ahead and lock up the church… Then I'll show you the house."

Jesse drew up the blanket around himself, having trouble believing that he was in a real bed. The tiny mattress in the grate had been his world for a long time, now. This all seemed a blur.

"Did Deanna go to Swarthmore like she said? With her dad?" he asked Pacey as she walked towards the door.

"She did. Still up there, too. Working for some research gig, the last I heard from her." Pacey turned and chewed on her lip. "Is that your plan? Head up that way and find Deanna?"

Jesse hadn't actually thought about it.

Deanna hadn't wanted him, and he couldn't blame her. The situation hadn't been right; he'd buried two girlfriends who knew that she had probably made the best possible choice.

But he had so few people left in the world who might not turn him away. Swarthmore, Pennsylvania. Not quite Alaska, but…

"You should. In the morning… It'll be a good idea to get out of New Mexico. Anyway… Whatever you decide. Get some rest. I'm making breakfast in the morning."

With that, she walked out and shut the door.

Jesse found himself unable to sleep. He found a yearbook in one of the drawers and flipped it open.

His own face was staring back at him, and he was smiling.

Maybe in the morning, he would ride to Pennsylvania.

The End