Title: And My Dreams All Fade Away.
Summary: Mike should be out of town by now, not standing at the foot of Jesse's bed in the middle of the night.
Warnings: Canonical character death and heavy angst.
Notes: Post episode 05x07 "Say My Name".
Disclaimer: I don't own Breaking Bad any of its characters.
...
Jesse awakened suddenly. His hand instinctively went for the charged weapon he kept tucked under his pillow.
The past couple of years had taught him many harsh lessons, and one of them was never to let his guard down, not even at home. It was something Jesse had doubled down on since he decided to leave the business for good.
He cooked the gun before sitting up and pointing the weapon at the dark room, his unfocused eyes still trying to make sense of his surroundings. It took him a couple of seconds, but Jesse finally zeroed in on the dark shadow standing at the foot of his bed.
"Who the hell are you?" He demanded, eyes squirmed and voice still thick with sleep.
The intruder showed no reaction whatsoever.
"Yo, I'm talking to you!"
Nothing. Jesse shifted the gun to his left hand and fumbled with his right to switch on the lamp on the bedside table. He squeezed his eyes shut when light filled the bedroom. If whoever they were were here to off him, they would have done it by now, so he figured a few seconds of blindness wouldn't matter. He lowered his hand and all but dropped the gun as soon as he opened his eyes.
"Yo, Mike?" Jesse squirted his eyes to make sure what he was seeing was right. "What are you doing here, man? I thought you were gonna skip town."
Not that Jesse was complaining. He was actually glad to see the old man. Ever since Mike announced he was getting out of the game he had been bumped to know he was probably never gonna see him again, and, after the call to Saul's office, he had resigned himself to the fact. But, if Mike was here now, that meant something was wrong and he needed something from him.
Jesse scrubbed a hand across his face and tried to chase any lingering sleep away. If Mike needed him, he needed to be fucking awake and alert to help him. He picked up the gun again and switched the safety back on as he waited, but the figure didn't speak or move.
It took Jesse a second, but for the first time, he noticed something was off with Mike. He blinked quickly as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. It was Mike, there was no question about it, but at the same time it wasn't. He looked softer, almost blurred at the edges. Jesse cracked his brain to try to remember if he took anything stonger than alcohol before going to bed because the Mike in front of him almost looked like something out of a cheap ghost movie-
Jesse's eyes widened as he looked frantically at every inch of the man in front of him. No. Fuck no.
"No. This isn't happening. This is- No."
It was the eyes. He could read it in Mike's eyes that this terrifying insane thought was the truth. It was real.
Tears were quickly running down Jesse's cheeks and he fisted the soft sheets pooled in his lap as the first sob escaped from his mouth. Jesse squeezed his eyes shut and curled his quivering body into himself as sobs continued to wreck him.
He wasn't sure how much time passed, but when he raised his head and looked through swollen and tear-filled eyes, Mike was still there, standing with his arms crossed and looking straight at him.
God, how he wished this was all a bad trip or whatever, but with every second that passed, Jesse was more and more sure this wasn't something his fucked up brain had made up. This was the real deal. Or as real as it could be.
"What happened?" Jesse asked as he wiped the tears and snot from his face with the back of his hand. "Did the cops get you or something?" There was silence. "Was it Declan's guys? Fuck. It wasn't the cartel, was it?"
Jesse stared at Mike and Mike stared back. He knew the old man liked his silences, but Jesse found himself growing frustrated as he waited. "Hey. Can you, like, talk?"
"I can," Mike answered after what felt like hours.
"Thank fuck," Jesse exhaled. He scrubbed a hand across his face before trying again. "Alright. What happened, yo? Mr. White said it w-" It was nothing but a minute twitch at the corner of Mike's mouth, but Jesse still felt his stomach drop. No. Fucking hell, no.
"No. That's not-" Jesse stared at him with wide blue eyes, silently begging to be told he was wrong. "Fuck."
Jesse's hurt and confusion quickly turned to rage as he remembered what happened when he went to see Mr. White and asked him about Mike.
'He's gone now.'
Jesse cursed himself for not questioning him further. He would have lied, the bastard, but maybe Jesse would have noticed something was wrong. He would have known.
"Why would he even do that? You were out, man!"
Mike said nothing, but Jesse didn't ask anything else. What was even the fucking point? Whatever excuses Mr. White used to justify killing Mike were total bullshit anyway. Knowing Mr. White, it would probably be better if he didn't know.
Jesse's lips quivered before an incoherent yell tore out of him, leaving his throat raw and his breath ragged.
Mike watched him the whole time, expression unchanged.
"I'm gonna kill that bastard," Jesse announced, voice low and full of hate. "He-
"You're doing nothing of the sort," Mike cut in, not even bothering to raise his voice. "You need to grab your money and get the hell away from Walter White. That's what you need to do."
The money. Right. The same money that bastard was refusing to hand over. The money Jesse wasn't even sure he wanted anymore. Mr. White may have been lashing out because Jesse hadn't done what he wanted for once, but that didn't mean everything he said was a lie. It was blood money. Every single cent of it was bloody.
"I don't believe Walter wants to kill you, but he will if he thinks he has no other choice."
He wondered how true that was. Not about Mr. White pulling the trigger if he thought he had to because Jesse had no doubt he would do it, but about the asshole not wanting to kill him. Whatever. It's not like it mattered anyway.
"I should have gotten the stupid bag for you," Jesse muttered after a moment of silence.
Amusement flicked across Mike's face for a split second. "You're out, kid. I wasn't gonna let you to get in trouble just to help me out."
It felt kind of nice to know Mike had been looking out for him. Except he was dead because of that, so Jesse actually ended up feeling like utter shit. He covered his face in his hands for a moment and then looked up again.
"I'm sorry." It was barely perceptive, but Mike's eyebrows rose in question. "You warned me about that prick Mr. White and told me to cut my loses, but I didn't listen 'cause I'm fucking moron."
Mike stayed silent for a moment. "Loyalty is a good quality to have, kid. You just need to offer it to someone who actually deserves it, and Walter White is not that person."
Jesse snorted. "Yeah, I'm starting to get that."
"Well, better later than never, I suppose."
An amused huff of breath escaped from Jesse's mouth at the words and the familiar deadpan way they were delivered that was just Mike. He felt his eyes well up with tears again. "Fuck," Jesse muttered as he hastily wiped his eyes and willed himself not to burst into fucking tears again.
"It's alright, kid."
Rather than help him calm down, the words only brought out a strangled sob before he started weeping again. It felt like the only thing he did anymore was cry like a fucking baby, but he just couldn't stop himself.
Suddenly, Jesse was reminded of the day Jane died. The same day he met Mike for the first time. Jesse didn't really remember a lot of that moment, but the sharp pain of the slap Mike gave him and the calm, no-nonsense demeanor of the strange old man standing over him were crystal clear in his memory.
And now he was gone too, just like Jane. Just like Drew Sharp and Gale Boetticher. All dead because of him. Because he was fucking poison to everyone around him.
"This wasn't your fault, kid." Mike's voice cut through the downward spiral of his thoughts. "I should have remembered how dangerous Walter was and never let my guard down around him." He shook his head. "After all the warnings I gave you, I should have known better."
"That's Mr White alright," Jesse said bitterly. "The asshole is an expert at making you forget what a fucking monster he really is."
Silence filled the room as they stared at each other.
"I have to go now."
Jesse sat up straight, blue eyes going wide. "What!? No! Mike-"
"You need to take care of yourself, kid," Mike cut in, his dark eyes looking straight through Jesse. "Don't let that bastard get you killed too."
The lump in Jesse's throat made it impossible to get out a word, but even if he had been able to speak, he had no idea what he would have said. How could you tell the guy that just got killed in cold blood by someone you trusted that you just couldn't be bothered to give a fuck about your own life anymore? By the look on Mike's face, he didn't have to say anything at all.
"Don't let Walter screw you over any more than he already has, kid," Mike advised roughly. "You're out now, and you're still young enough to have a shot at living a good life instead of keep struggling to survive. Don't waste that."
"Okay," Jesse said hoarsely. It wasn't a promise or a compromise, but it was the best he could do.
"You're not a bad kid, Jesse. You just need a chance to prove to yourself that you're a better person than you think you are."
Jesse met Mike's gaze with fervent eyes and tried to believe the words. It wasn't easy, not after everything he had done, but he still tried.
And, just like that, Mike was gone. Gone as if he had never been there at all.
Jesse stared at the empty space for a long time, unable to look away. He didn't even try to fight the tears when they came this time. He didn't think he fucking could.
...
A/N: As you can obviously tell from this fic, I really liked Mike's character and his relationship with Jesse, so I absolutely hated the fact he got killed. Fuck you, Walter White. Anyway. That and my wish to give them a little closure was what inspired this strange story. I know it doesn't quite fit with the following encounters between Jesse and Walt, but well. Also, just like the tags say, you get to decide how 'real' Mike's appearance was. I hope you liked the fic, and I would love any feedback about the characterization.
Title taken from the song Burn My Shadow by UNKLE.
This is unbetaed and I'm not a native speaker, so please feel free to point out any mistakes you may find.