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[slippin]

Jimmy McGill

missives | dramatic confrontations

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text | un: oil change

[nachocheese]

[ two-three days after this network interaction. assume nacho has intentionally given jimmy space in the interim. ]

Hey [ Saul? Mr. Goodman? Mr. McGill? ] Jimmy? You got a minute?

[ He doesn't even know if Jimmy will respond or not, but it's worth a shot. ]

[slippin]

[ Not immediately, but within fifteen minutes or so: ] The number you have attempted to contact is no longer in service.

1/3

[nachocheese]

[ Nacho has just about given up on getting a response, when he sees the text come in. ]

Jimmy... come on, man. Don't be like this.

2/3

[nachocheese]

I'm sorry.

3/3

[nachocheese]

[ Apologies, it turns out, aren't exactly Nacho's strong suit, despite his father's best efforts. This next response comes at a slight lag; probably about five minutes after the others. He struggles with what to say next. His conscience says just be honest; apologize for everything. His brain says that sounds like a chucklefuck thing to do.

"I'm sorry for saying I'd beat the shit out of you" might cover the most recent thing he's done to strike fear into Jimmy's heart, and not even the most egregious. Even in death, Nacho feels haunted by the ghosts of his past, by his mistakes, and he can't help but think about everyone else who's been affected who he's not in a position to apologize to, and never will be.

He can't help thinking, too, that words don't undo what's been done. You can't fix things with "I'm sorry". Does that make it not worth saying? He genuinely isn't sure. But it feels remarkably strange to apologize only for the most recent aggression and not for the rest that lead up to it, that no doubt helped contributed to Jimmy's overall mental turmoil in this place right now. ]

For everything.