A/N: Occurs after Granite State. My attempt at erm, a somewhat happy "rescue" fic. Because Walt needs to save Jesse. Decided to break this up a bit. It's mostly finished so I'll post parts at a time.

Walt cautiously stepped over the bodies that now littered the ground and took a meander around the lab, M60 in hand. He had to set it up in flames. It would be the easiest way to dispose of all the evidence. He aimed to take a walk around, see how many vehicles he was working with, how many different entry points there were, etc. That's when he saw what looked to be some folded up tarp stretched out across a metal grate. Like they were keeping something hidden as if the abandoned hangar wasn't enough.

Just for kicks, Walt decided to see what the big fuss was. He walked over to the edge of the apparent hole in the ground and upon noticing a ladder, figured it must have been something fairly important. Something they kept tabs on.

Walt wasn't expecting to be looking down at a body.

He threw the tarp off and opened the grate before sliding the ladder down, descending it to see if the young man buried under the thin blanket was even alive. He could barely make out a mess of dirty blonde hair. Apparently Jack and his crew had kept a prisoner. Surely Walt could at least assist the man and get him out of there.

Or kill him.

As he approached the seemingly unconscious figure, his back to him, he suddenly felt himself coming to a stop. Dirty blonde hair. He shook his head. It couldn't be.

But it was. Walt found himself staring down upon his former chemistry student, his former partner. The shallow, raspy breathing belonged to that very man in front of him. Why was he still alive? Hadn't he told Jack that he wanted Jesse dead? Was that too hard to ask for? It had been months—months…

Jesse didn't look so good, Walt could already tell. Jesse had been kept a prisoner all this time. He had been kept alive and forced to cook. Walt suspected that he was long gone by now. Dead.

He cautiously gripped the blanket and pulled it back to expose a curled up, shackled, slightly shivering Jesse. And there was something about all of it, something that struck Walt as… wrong. He couldn't leave Jesse there.

Walt cleared his throat. "Jesse?" The name almost felt foreign on his lips now. Like Jesse was some lost memory on him, like it was all just some screwed up dream.

Jesse didn't stir. If it weren't for the shaky breaths and shivering, he'd have taken Jesse for dead. He hesitantly bent down and managed to dig his hands under Jesse's arms while trying to pull him up. With the weight and strength he lost over the months, he couldn't foresee himself carrying Jesse. But the moment he had tried to even move Jesse, he could tell he had lost quite a bit of weight too, his hands practically digging into bone.

What did those animals do to him?

No, Walt couldn't bog himself down with those thoughts right now. If he was serious about this, he had to get Jesse out of there. Though he wasn't sure how he was going to get them both up the ladder. And he still had to get the cuffs off of him.

Walt was able to get Jesse up to his feet, his arms wrapped around his torso to keep him steady. There was a sudden sharp, pained gasp out of the younger man and Walt immediately found himself trying to ease his grip at the realization that he was hurting him. But Jesse was hardly bearing any of his own weight and Walt couldn't really do a whole lot.

"Jesse? You've got to help me out here," Walt tried. He felt Jesse's hands brush across his arms. His breathing was more rapid and rattled as Walt could feel him trying to get his feet under him. He sounded almost like he was congested. And he probably had a few bruised or broken ribs.

Walt helped him make it over to the ladder the best he could. He didn't have to say another word as Jesse slowly ascended the ladder before him. Walt almost feared that he'd fall. Jesse could barely walk.

They just had to make it out of there. Walt would figure it out. He'd get Jesse somewhere safe. He'd make sure he was okay. Then he had some unfinished business to attend to.

Walt begun to walk Jesse to his car before Jesse dropped to his knees unexpectedly. He felt a sob rack Jesse's frame.

"No… No, no… Please… I—I did everything you asked—please don't kill him!"

Walt knew he probably should have said something to ease him but he was speechless. He didn't know what to say to Jesse to try and calm him. He wasn't even sure what Jesse was talking about.

Maybe he didn't want to know.

"Thank you, Mr. Lambert. Hope you have a nice evening."

Walt nodded his head in thanks as he gripped the key to the motel room in his hand. He had driven out of Albuquerque again just to be on the safe side and found a motel that would have to do. He paid cash for a couple nights. Figured it was at least a start while he tried to mull things over.

Walt was able to get Jesse into the back of his car and that was where he remained, sound asleep now. He opened the backdoor, thankful that he was able to find the key to the cuffs and chains in Todd's pocket. It would hopefully make moving Jesse a little easier. And now that the sun had set, he hoped there wouldn't be a passerby to catch sight of Jesse as he worked to get him to the room.

Walt managed to clumsily get Jesse to one of the beds. It didn't take long for Jesse to pass out again once his head hit the pillow, Walt sitting on the opposite bed staring over at his form. The younger man was in desperate need of attention. Walt didn't allow himself to register how bad Jesse was until they were safely locked away in the motel room, the light not bothering to hide anything from the naked eye.

Jesse's face was a mess—a mess of dried blood and bruises, lacerations. Some were probably deep enough to require stitches. There was dried blood on his clothes too, specifically his pants. The three quarter length shirt sleeves allowed visibility of his wrists. They were rubbed raw from where the handcuffs were once too tight, and there were rings of bruises just above where the cuff marks were. Walt was almost certain he even made out bruises around his neck.

He didn't even want to know how bad it was under his clothes.

Walt could tell that Jesse wasn't all there. He wasn't even sure Jesse recognized him or if Jesse even realized that Jack and his crew were dead now. Jesse just seemed to be stuck in permanent fear. Some sort of catatonic shock. It was obvious they did much more to Jesse than they needed to get the information from him. Especially since most of his injuries seemed recent. Injuries on top of injuries.

But he couldn't take Jesse to the hospital. Even if he did, he would have to drop him off on the sidewalk and leave him. He couldn't risk someone recognizing him. And the police and DEA were surely still trying to find Jesse too. He'd be arrested if Walt took him to the hospital…