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[5055034455]

[There's something different about Saul today.

He's seated in front of the camera, as usual, and he's in a suit, also as usual, but —

Oh, maybe it's the fact that Stephanie's leaning against his shoulders as he speaks, which takes away all possibility of him being his usual, businesslike self.

It might be that.]

Hey, everyone. As some of you've noticed, Jesse Pinkman went home a couple of weeks ago. Since there was some concern over the cookie situation last month, we — [With a brief nod upward, toward Steph — ] Figured that we'd harness some of the holiday spirit that's been goin' around and make sure this month's newbies are fed and clothed. Feferi will be taking care of handing out jackets and whatnot on the first, and Steph and I will be manning the cookie table alongside anyone else who decides to join us.

[Without missing a beat, Steph adds:]

Might even see if I can get one of those big urns to put hot cocoa in, to help warm the newbies up, and us, if we're hanging around there for a while. Any chance you can help out with that, Ella?

[She gives the camera a bright smile, which is mostly for Ella's sake. Sorry about abusing your powers.]

What we're not gonna do is make a party of it. I know that kinda sucks, but we just don't have the space, so the plan is that everyone who wants to can bake a couple batches in their own ovens, then bring them to our place sometime on the thirty first. If you don't know the address already and you're planning to help out, I'll give it to you here. [But she's not - just giving it out on the network openly.] If you need ingredients, let me know; I went on a mission and made sure we had plenty of stuff so I can give you flour or sugar or choc chips. Same goes for the recipe. Annnnd if you need help getting cookies to us, speak up, and we'll work something out.

[For a second, it looks like she's about to wrap it up, but then something else occurs to her.]

Speaking of parties, I dunno if anyone's doing anything for New Year's Eve, but if they are, can everyone try to get the cookies to me before like - seven, so I can still go out. Thanks.

[At which point Saul looks up and over at her, feigning a pout.]

Sorry, so we can go out.

[And then he's all smiles.

Before the feed clicks off, he adds another "thanks," and away they go.]

[Then, a private text to Sonya from Steph, sent only moments later:] sonya, i know you're smart enough to put two and two together, but please don't say anything to anyone else. it's not something that needs to be spread around.

Comments

[controlledvariable]

[Fuck you, Sonya.]

You didn't answer my question.

[legal_eagle]

[And another shrug.]

I don't know whether it was suicide or not, so no, I'm not going to state what it was. I'm just going to say he's dead. Unless, again, you give me a reason not to that isn't just calling me a shitty person for daring to not keep secret information that neither of you have the right to hoard.

Bear in mind that you're also both free to amend your announcement. It doesn't have to come from me. Hell, ideally, it won't.

[5055034455]

[Saul finds the nearest solid surface and leans against it, silent for the moment it takes him to run a hand over his face.]

I'm not doing anything without talking to Lisbeth and Roslyn first. And I'd appreciate it a whole hell of a lot if you stopped taking matters into your own hands like this — you're not helping. You're hurting a lot of people. But I guess that doesn't matter when it means you get to see those of us who loved Jesse suffer, huh? Are you just pissed off because your little attempt to turn everyone against him didn't work? Is that it?

[He folds his arms, expression turning grimly serious.]

Or is it that you're happy he's gone and can't wait to see who crawls out of the woodwork to join you in the chorus of "ding dong, the drug addict's dead"?

[legal_eagle]

[Her lips thin. There's a level of hurt she cannot help but feel at him being so...utterly, completely wrong about her, but she won't voice that. She knows she hasn't exactly been struggling to disabuse him of his notions - Instead, she'll just reply, coolly:]

Brilliant deductions as always.

[5055034455]

What, am I wrong? Go ahead. Tell me otherwise.

[It's half sincere, half dare.

If she tries to tell him she cares about Jesse, he's not sure what he'll do.]

[legal_eagle]

[She wants to sneer at him. She wants to bite out that she's exactly what he thinks of her. She wants to maintain her pride.

But even if she thinks Goodman is being a fucking dick right now, he still meant something to her once. Maybe still does. And even if she wants to tear out Steph's eyes, even if she thinks she's being a fucking hypocrite and liar, the fact remains that the girl was the only one to give a shit about how wretched Pinkman had made her.

So she unbends herself enough to bite out:]

You're wrong.

[Only that. No more. But it's the truth.]

[controlledvariable]

[She watches the exhange silently, before stepping close to Saul, curling her fingers around his wrist in a silent gesture of that's enough.

Her attention stays on Sonya.]

You keep talking about what right people have like that means jack shit. It doesn't. We told Lisbeth the truth because she deserves to know, we told Roslyn because as the head of the police force, it's in everyone's best interest that she be aware of the situation. Neither of those are reasons to tell the general public. The people that turned on Jesse, that were calling for his blood because he screwed up, they have absolutely no right to know that he's dead.

[That includes Sonya, but unfortunately Lisbeth couldn't keep her fucking mouth shut.]

The other people who loved him, maybe they deserve to know, too, but we're not going to tell them just because you came in here and threatened to drag our names through the mud like you did to Jesse.

[Because that's what it'd be, at the end of the day, if Sonya goes public with this, she's going to be turning people against Steph and Saul.

She tightens her grip around Saul's wrist, not enough to hurt, just to make sure he doesn't argue with what's coming next.]

We'll tell them because it's the right thing to do, but we'll do it in our own time, and we sure as hell aren't doing it over the fucking network.

[Whether that's true or not, well. At least it'll buy them some time.]

[legal_eagle]

[Sonya watches Steph a long time after she speaks. There's a real anger that rises up in her, a real rage, that she has to fight to suppress. A real sense of...Of betrayal, frankly. She'd told Steph what she'd told her and had taken real comfort in Steph seeming...angry at Jesse, and disappointed. She felt as though Steph saw what Pinkman had done as a true offense, as something unforgivable, and Sonya had just taken such comfort in that. But now -

Now Steph is back to clucking over him like he's a lost lamb. More: like Sonya's a villain for hating him. Because that's really what it is. Steph's words of solidarity, that month ago - they might as well have never been uttered. Sonya had cried into Steph's arms like a child; she'd clung to the other woman like they were old friends. And now it's like that never happened.

She feels so stupid. Stupid and ashamed, now, to have taken Steph's support so deeply to heart. It seems like the set-up to some facile joke, that the quick-talking shit-mouthed big-city lawyer, the Bronx girl who sneers at people who talk about friendship and sorrow, would find meaning in those moments of bonding so much more than Steph, who's a fucking portrait of vulnerability and raw wounds. But there they are.

Her face is impassive as she speaks.]

I can't help but sort of imagine this scenario from a more personal perspective. You know. Let's say I had a friend I loved. Killed himself, or was murdered. Police don't know. I have to say, if I had some other friend who took a look at me, said, you know, that Sonya, she just can't handle it, and plus I just can't handle her emotional fallout, I'm too busy with my own shit, I'm gonna tell her he just moved away...You know, I just can't wrap my head around how I would feel at that complete fucking show of disrespect, contempt, and betrayal. Probably I'd thank him, don't you think? Be really grateful?

[controlledvariable]

[The thing is, for her, none of this is really about Jesse.]

If that was why we were keeping this quiet, we never would have told Lisbeth.

[The only person who would likely handle it worse than Lisbeth is Skyler, and that's only because of their shared history.]

There are a dozen reasons why we aren't telling everyone, from the investigation to not wanting to hurt people, and at the end of the day none of this shit might even matter. [she shrugs and lets go of Saul's wrist] The Aristeas tech could kick back in or he could come back through the Transporter at the start of the month, and all we would've done by telling people is made a huge fucking mess when god knows that's the last thing Transports need. I know you hate him, but I also know you're smart enough to see the effect Jesse had on people, especially when they first showed up. You saw how shaken up some people were by what he did to Tempest, how do you think they'd react to knowing he's dead, and that we suspect foul play?

["not well" is the answer.]

Because there's no way people would be satisfied if we just said he's dead and refused to share other details. But honestly, it's bad enough that our attention's been turned away from what's important by the move down here, we don't need more distractions, we need people focused on the war, not on this mess that might clean itself up if Jesse comes back.

[She's not sure she wants that to happen, but that's not really the point of this discussion.]

[legal_eagle]

All your reasons are bullshit. From top to bottom.

[Her expression remains perfectly impassive. There's a coldness to Sonya as she speaks, different from her usual fiery spirit. Even at her most upset, even in the heights of anger, even when she's trying to stay cold and impartial, even when she's exhausted and depressed, there's always a sort of passion to how she throws herself into whatever emotion she's feeling. That's not the case now; there's real detachment, like she's genuinely stepped back from the two of them, like she's really disengaged.]

All the two of you want is control. Your little power fantasy. It's not about him, or me, or Lisbeth, or them. It's all about being in control.

[5055034455]

Control over what? Because I know you don't mean control over the clusterfuck that is our collective life right now, and I also know you don't mean control over any of the obviously uncontrollable people here.

[He pauses, like he's about to correct himself — people, aliens, robots — but then figures fuck it.]

Stephanie's right, and you know it. If you're one of the people so concerned with the bigger picture of what's going on here, with the morals of war and how we should go about governing ourselves to help save God knows how many lives, then you'll let us handle this our own way. And this, I swear, is the last thing I'll ever ask of you.

[Because he knows for damn sure that he's just run out of strikes with her.]

[legal_eagle]

[Her face doesn't warm at all. Her voice is just as cold, just as disconnected.]

I'll do it as a favor to you. And it is a fucking big favor. It is a favor that discharges all my debt to you and leaves nothing between us.

[She half turns away.]

But don't feed me any lines about how this helps people. This helps precisely two people. No one's life is saved by these lies and deceptions. Only your reputations. Only your hold over the situation. So enjoy.

[And then she turns the rest of the way away, turning to go without so much as a word of farewell - but she hesitates first for one parting volley.]

A month ago, I was laughing at the people who said you had pretentions at crowning yourself dictator.

I'm not laughing anymore.

[5055034455]

[That's a relief, but it's not. He's left feeling uneasy and confused — the reputation thing, yeah, he understands why she'd say that. But — dictator?

Has everyone lost their minds?

Saul just frowns at the back of her head, silent.]

[legal_eagle]

[And then she leaves. Walks out, no good-bye, nothing. She gets about ten steps beyond the door before she loses her grip on her self-control; tears of sheer self-loathing come to her eyes, tears over what she's agreed to, tears over that deep feeling of betrayal. She's not wearing shoes for it, and the snow is dangerously deep, but immediately she takes a breath and breaks into a hard jog; she's going to run until she either breaks an ankle or her lungs ache, because hard exercise will at least drive out some of her feelings.]