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[hostage]

UNIT№409



_“ Hey, it's me. Wait for the thing. _”

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[hostage]

[Look at this overwhelming self-concern all over his face.]

[5055034455]

...I'll talk to Jules about it. Anyway, what the hell, man? What did you and Steph talk about? And why does Sonya know —

[Another pause, this time so Saul can move over to the couch and drop his voice to a near-whisper.]

About you-know-what? Is that why you had a black eye? Because I don't know how else she could've found out. I didn't say a word.

[hostage]

[Ugh. Too many questions.]

Yeah, I told Sonya. Not about you, don't worry.

[5055034455]

Okay, but Sonya let it slip to Steph that Brock is your kid, and Steph dropped that on me after she dropped in for her little visit and didn't try to kill me or threaten me or anything, and hey, FYI, she slapped me the other day over all this. So what gives, huh?

[hostage]

[Saul, you deserve more than a slap.]

I dunno. She came up here and said she was sorry for being a bitch 'cause I guess she just found out about Brock, and you, and - I dunno. I told her it wasn't your fault and she should stay outta my business and we had a fight about it.

[5055034455]

[Reasons why he thought Steph showed up to kill him...]

Yeah, I'm sure that's what she said. Sorry for being a bitch.

[He sighs.]

She's not gonna stay out of your business anymore than I am, at this point. But — [And here his voice returns to normal:] Thank you for covering my ass.

[hostage]

I wasn't covering your ass. It's the truth, right? You weren't, uh, jumping at the opportunity to ruin my life. It was him. So...

[5055034455]

Well, no —

[Sighing again seems redundant, so this time, he rubs his forehead like he has a headache.

Women are confusing.]

Are things okay between you two now? I'm guessing yes, since she cooked for you.

[hostage]

I dunno.

[5055034455]

Great.

[Except not really.]

[hostage]

Why don't you ask her? How am I supposed to know?

[5055034455]

Okay, okay. Nevermind. Anyway, how're you doing? You eat yet today?

[hostage]

[He gives an apathetic wave of his hand.]

A little. Leftovers. I'm not hungry.

[5055034455]

[Saul actually seems to be okay with that answer. He looks Jesse over, expression neutral, before he starts frowning critically again.]

Have you moved from the couch in the past few hours?

[hostage]

Nope.

[5055034455]

Alright, then. C'mon!

[He claps his hands together and bounces up on his toes. Didn't you miss your ray of sunshine lawyer, Jesse?]

Up and at 'em! We're going for a walk.

[hostage]

What am I, your dog?

[5055034455]

Walkies, Jesse!

[But then, a little more seriously:] You can't spend the whole day on the couch.

[hostage]

Uh, yeah. I totally can.

[5055034455]

Allow me to revise that statement: You can, but you shouldn't. So let's go for a walk.

[hostage]

[Saul isn't let it go, is he. Jesse sighs and picks himself up.]

Where're we going?

[5055034455]

There's an old Irish saying that goes, "May the road rise up to meet you and may the wind be always at your back." The road's a-risin' and the wind's a-blown' and I —

[pause for effect!!]

Have no idea. But I'll know when we get there. Hurry up.

[hostage]

[Jesse grunts and shoves his feet into his sneakers, then shuffles over to Saul's side.]

[5055034455]

Not gonna grab an umbrella? Or do you not own one? Because that wouldn't surprise me.