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Genre: Fallen Angel AU, fluff, hurt/comfort

Warning(s): light gore, a sad Jesse Pinkman

Spoiler(s): none

Dialogue Prompts: "Hey, you ok?" and "I don't have anyone anymore." "You have me."

Summary: Y/n nurses Jesse back to health after he saves her life.

Extra: The art above is some concept art I made!
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Third Person POV:

You had no idea you would be in the situation you found yourself in tonight.

You were walking home from work like you usually would, anxiously scanning the dangerous streets of Albuquerque, New Mexico. The moon was high yet so many people were still out. Druggies out in the streets, alcoholics in the bar, and even some people midnight shopping at the twenty-four hour convenience store. These were sights that you were used to seeing, but that didn't stop you from being anxious.

Anything could happen at a time like this.

And something did happen.

"Hey, pretty lady..." A drunken voice drawls. You turn around to see a man you've never seen before. His cheeks are flushed and he gazes at you lustfully. "You from around here?"

You take a step back and eye him worriedly. You decide the best course of action is to lie. "No, I... I'm not. Just visiting."

"Aww... such a shame." The man's words slur together in an intoxicated mess. "Where're you, uh... staying tonight? I could... I could join you."

"No, thank you," you reply. "I'm fine on my own."

You turn to walk away but soon feel a tight grip around your wrist. Your blood runs cold. Turning your head around, you gulp at the sight of this man tightly gripping your wrist. "What are you doing? Let me go."

"Nuh-uh-uh..." he says. "I want you right here, right now. Come with me, baby, and I'll show you a good time."

You yank on your arm, trying to get yourself free, but the man refuses to let go. You try screaming for help, to which the man pulls out a knife and presses it against your neck. All nearby civilians freeze in their tracks, wondering what they should do in this situation. The blade's metal is cold. You shiver slightly, keeping your head in one place and desperately allow the drunken man to pull up close.

"Please... I don't want any trouble," you say.

"Shut up, dumb bitch," the man hisses. He turns to the crowd. "Don't take another step closer, or I'll slit her throat. Do you understand?"

You whimper softly, praying that you'll be saved from the clutches of this evil man. Everyone else that surrounds you gives you sympathetic glances, and you understand why.

One wrong move will send this man massacring anyone in sight.

Suddenly your ears tune in on a pair of unrecognizable footsteps coming from behind you. Someone's coming to help! A police officer, maybe?

The man who's holding you flinches. You see someone's tattooed hand on the enemy's shoulder from your peripheral vision. Another thug, maybe? It's hard to tell with this crazy lunatic holding you close.

"Oi, let go of me!" The man juts his shoulder forward, almost pushing you directly into the knife. A startled gasp exits your lips. Soon you find yourself facing a hooded stranger as the man turns around in a flash. "What's your deal, man? I thought I told everyone to stay back."

The hooded figure reaches up and slowly removes the hood from his head, revealing a head of messy, dirty blonde hair. Furrowing his brow, he takes another step forward and says, "I don't give a damn about what you may have said, bitch."

The man holding you spits at the ground and lets go of you all except your wrist. His grip is suffocating. "Back off, you dirty rat! Go bother someone else."

"If I'm not mistaken, you're the one who's bothering someone else."

The man in the hoodie rushes forward and reaches for the knife. He successfully grabs the enemy's wrist. The people surrounding you three back up and murmur in fear. When the active threat realizes his opponent is serious, he does everything in his power to keep you back and fight him off at the same time. As to be expected, his technique is not the most intelligent.

As the attack persists, you try harder to escape. Having your captor's focus on someone else makes it a lot easier to avoid punishment. Punches land, kicks swing, and grunts of pain are exchanged between the two men. At one point, you hear a loud cry from your defender, and you see that he has the knife jabbed in his abdomen region. You wince at the sight, and it encourages you to use your free hand to your advantage. You claw at the hand squeezing your wrist, desperately trying to wriggle yourself free.

"Hey, knock it off back there," the man snaps.

You respond with a hard bite, sinking your teeth as far down into his alcohol-reeked flesh as you can. He shouts and shakes you off forcibly, causing you to stumble back and collapse into the road. You grunt as the asphalt scraps your skin, and you're soon met with two bright lights shining directly in your face.

With no time to think or move, you're stuck there- frozen in time as a semi-truck is heading your way.

Loud screeches and cries fill the air as the surrounding citizens are left defenseless against fate, horrified for what will be to come of you. You feel your limbs start to tremble, and your heart stops as your throat goes dry. The lights get closer and closer until-

Everything stops. A loud crash can be heard, and the next thing you see are large, black feathers fluttering near you. That's when you realize that you weren't the one who got hit.

The driver of the semi-truck hops out and rushes to the victim before stumbling back in fear. Your gaze turns to the source of confusion and you're surprised to see that the man who defended you earlier is now laying in the road. You snatch one of the floating feathers and compare it to the strange, lumpy things on the guy's back.

Huh. That's weird... You think, dazed and confused. You toss the feather aside and stand up with struggle. Your head throbs with pain from impact, so you hold it in your hand.

Just as you're about to approach the man, two dark wings shoot out from his back, and with one big flap he takes off into the sky. All around you, people shout and scream, confused and all around terrified. They've never seen anything like this before, and neither have you. The semi-truck driver belts out a big yelp before pulling out his phone to call the authorities.

Your eyes are focused on the man in the sky, however- fixated, even. His large wings flap vigorously as he makes his escape to who-knows-where. You don't think much of it for a brief moment before you impulsively decide you want to follow him.

"Wait-!" You call out, starting your legs up into a jog. "Wait up!"

You ignore the growing noise of the people as you run, tucking your fear of judgment in a deep pocket of your mind. Someone tries to call you back, but you don't care. You're not sure why you're doing this other than the fact that you want to thank him for earlier.

Your gaze never leaves him as you observe his every movement, looking out for a moment when he might land- which thankfully happens sooner than you expected. With one fell swoop, the winged man drops quickly into an alleyway.

With the knowledge of where he is, you become confident enough that you can slow down without losing him. Before you turn the corner to the alleyway, you hear a messy blend of grunts, thuds, and low cursing. Your head cautiously peeks around the corner, and you get a good visual of what's happening.

Y/n's POV:

The longer I stand by and watch this man with wings attempt to return to airborne mode, the more I want to help him out. Even from a distance, I can tell that he's injured badly. His wings are spread out so pathetically, and his poorly-timed jumps make every fall he takes more and more painful to watch. He'll jump up in an attempt to bounce off the wall only to tumble back onto the concrete below.

And he just won't stop trying.

He crash lands once more and mutters out a pained "Shit..." before I decide to approach him.

"Uh, hey... there..." I say slowly. The man scrambles away from me in an instant, leaning his back against the wall as he shifts his wings to where they're covering his body. When I'm close enough, I crouch down to his level, resting on my knees. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just- I just wanted to make sure you were ok-"

"Stay away from me," he says gruffly. I can't see any part of him through those wings of his. I hold myself back from touching them.

"How come?" I ask gently.

The man reveals his face to me but nothing else. I jump a little with how sudden it is.

"I'm not normal," he tells me as if he's annoyed by my question. "You should be scared of me or some shit."

"But I'm not," I say. "You saved my life. That's worthy of some respect, right?"

He slowly lowers his wings. "Uh... I guess so..."

Now that I have a good look at him, I notice just how wounded he really is. He's all scratched up, there's a literal gaping wound in his stomach, and his lip is busted. I frown sympathetically and reach out to him before he flips his wings back up.

"You're hurt," I say with a slight whimper in my tone. It tears my heart in two to see this noble man in such a state.

He lowers his wings again. "So? I can take care of it myself."

I frown. "Are you sure? I just wanna help."

"I don't need your help," he spits, flapping his wings frustratedly. I stumble back from the force. "I've been on my own long enough to know how to fend for myself, ok? I don't need your-"

He groans and clutches his stomach, dropping his erratic wings in an instant. I can hear him wince through his teeth.

"I have a first aid kit back at my apartment," I tell him frantically. "We need to get you there right now, I swear."

The man shakes his head. His eyes are squeezed shut, and beads of sweat begin to form on his dirty forehead.

"C'mon, please?" I beg him. "It's not too far away, and- and I can help you, I promise."

When he doesn't say anything, I add another "Please?"

He looks up at me, and I can tell he's fighting back tears. The tips of his wings tremble slightly, and his grip grows tighter around his abdomen. Eventually, he sighs before saying, "Fine..."

I sigh in relief and start to help him up. He seems reluctant to let me touch him, but he lets me hold him up since he's hurting bad enough.

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By the time we reach the door of my apartment, my legs are burning and I'm out of breath. I hear a pained wheeze from the man. Shakily pulling out my keys, I stick them in the keyhole, unlock the door, and gain entrance.

"We're here." I smile shakily, leading him inside. "Welcome to my humble abode."

I hold his hands and carefully drag him inside until he feels capable enough to stand on his own. I immediately rush over to the bathroom and frantically search for the first aid kit before finding it in a cabinet under the sink.

I expected my guest to sit somewhere comfortable- like the couch or something- but I don't find him there. Instead, a scattered gasp turns my attention to the corner of the room. He's leaning against the wall and sitting on the floor. His hands press against his stomach wound, and I grimace at how much blood he's losing. Nevertheless, I get to his side immediately and kneel down, pulling out a tube of ointment, a roll of bandages, and a bag of cotton balls.

The fear in his strained expression prompts me to say, "These tools are important to the healing process. It might hurt a bit, but trust me when I say you'll be ok in the end."

The man nods, biting his busted lip before recoiling at the action.

"Careful..." I whisper, reaching for his blood-stained shirt. "May I? I need to get a better view of your injuries."

I can sense some hesitance, but he slowly removes his hands from his abdomen. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Do what you need to do, yo."

Smirking at his slang usage, I grip his shirt and carefully pull it off, making sure to avoid getting it tangled in his wings. He winces and immediately reaches for his stomach again.

I stand back up, hurriedly walk to the bathroom to dampen a towel, and return to his side. "Has the bleeding stopped in that spot?"

He nods frantically. "Hurts... a lot..."

"I know." I remove his hands from the wound, relieved that it isn't bleeding heavily anymore. "I'm gonna make it all better, but you gotta let me, ok?"

I press the wet towel against his stomach. He flinches, and his wings lightly smack me alongside the head.

"Hey-!" I yelp, flinching myself.

He gives me a guilty look. "Sorry, yo."

Quickly composing myself, I return to cleaning the wound. "It's all good. You didn't mean it."

A moment of silence.

"What's your name?" he asks me, slowly loosening up a little.

"Y/n," I tell him with a smile. "What's yours?"

He looks away and runs his fingers through the carpet. "Jesse..."

"That's a lovely name," I say, finishing up with the towel.

I reach for the bandages next, unraveling a portion of the roll before snipping what I need off with a pair of medical scissors. Then I wrap it around his abdomen, making sure to get it done just right. Jesse does his best not to squirm from the pressure. Afterwards, I work with the other cuts and bruises scattered around his body, making sure not to leave anything behind. The last thing I have to do is fix that busted lip of his.

I squeeze some ointment on a cotton ball and press it against Jesse's lip. He hisses and turns his head instantly upon contact.

"I'm sorry it hurts, Jesse, but I have to get this treated," I say, turning his head around to face me. "Otherwise, it'll get infected."

Jesse grumbles but complies, resorting to stroking his feathers as a distraction from the pain.

"There! You're all finished." I pull the cotton ball away and toss it in a nearby garbage bin. "I'm so proud of you."

Jesse blushes and frowns. "No need to treat me like a kid."

"Sorry." I start to pack away the first aid kid. "It's a habit I got from patching up little kids' scraped knees and stuff."

Jesse tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy would. "You work with kids?"

"For my day job, yeah. I work as a waitress during the night."

For the first time, I see Jesse smile. I never noticed his eyes were this blue until now. They're a beautiful sight. "Cool."

I chuckle softly and brush a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "So... wings, huh?"

Jesse glances over at the large, dark things that are attached to his back. He frowns self-consciously, which makes me feel bad that I asked. "Y-Yeah, I got wings."

"They're really pretty, you know," I gush. "From pictures of, like, angels and stuff, I've always known them to be white. Yours are quite unique."

"Thanks," Jesse mutters. The tips of his wings flutter. "You're not weirded out by it or anything?"

I shake my head. "No, not really. I mean, it's unusual- that's for sure- but I'm getting used to it... I think."

"That's good." Jesse smirks before fidgeting with the bandages on his hands.

"Hey, don't mess with that," I whisper, reaching for his hands to pull them off.

"Sorry."

I finally stand up and start walking towards the hallway. "Let's figure out a sleeping arrangement for you."

"Wait, wait, wait, huh?" I turn around and see that Jesse has stood up as well. "Sleeping arrangements? You mean I'm staying here?"

I nod, raising an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, why wouldn't you be? Do you have somewhere to be?"

Jesse's wings flap a couple of times as he lowers his head. "No..."

"Then that settles it. You're staying."

Before he can protest, I'm already walking through the hallway and selecting the guest bedroom. I open the door and make sure it's tidy enough for Jesse to sleep in. "Here, I already got a room for you, so if you'd like to sleep in here or on the couch, you can let me know which one you'd prefer."

"Um, here is fine." Jesse walks up behind me, tucking his wings in so he can fit through the doorframe. He perks up at the sight of the freshly made bed.

I smile at him and pat my hand on the bed. "It's all yours! My room isn't too far away, so you can stop by if you need anything."

"Thank you." I can tell that Jesse's still shy, which is not a problem to me. I've worked with kids like him before (not that he's a kid or anything).

As I walk past him to get ready for bed, I lightly squeeze his shoulder. "You're welcome, Jesse. I hope you sleep well."

"Y-Yeah, you too."

As I walk away, I can hear the sounds of the bed sheets wrinkling and an exhausted body collapsing on the barely-used mattress.

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I was dreaming of reliving a high school pop quiz when something smacked me awake-

- something warm and feathery.

Groggily blinking my eyes open, I'm surprised to feel two trembling arms snaked around my torso. "What the...?"

That's when I realize I'm being snuggled by Jesse himself. His wings are cocooned around our bodies, hiding us from any possible dangers that realistically wouldn't be roaming around my apartment.

"Jesse...?" I whisper, reaching for one of his hands. "You scared me for a moment. Is something wrong?"

Jesse hesitantly nods his head, which is smooshed against my back. I slowly roll around to face him, struggling with the fact that his grip around me remains strong. Once I'm faced in front of him, I brush his hair off his sweaty forehead.

"Hey, you ok?" I ask him softly, still adjusting my eyes to the darkness that surrounds us. Then, without warning, Jesse bursts into tears, clinging onto me like his life depends on it. He snuggles up against my chest, and I instinctively wrap my arms around him. "What's wrong, Jesse? What happened?"

Through his tears and quiet sobs, he answers with, "Nightmare..."

"I'm sorry," I say, running my hand up and down his back. "Hey, it's ok. I got you."

My shirt soaks up Jesse's tears, which concerns me from how much he's crying.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask with hesitance.

Jesse shakes his head and holds onto me tighter, to which I respond with, "Ok, you don't have to if you don't want to. It's ok."

"Mm-mm..." Jesse hums defiantly, letting out a choked sob as he shakes his head. "It's not ok... I'm not good enough for anyone..."

"No, no, no... That's not true-"

"Don't lie to me," he suddenly snaps, pushing himself off me. He's now sitting up, trying and failing to dry his eyes. "All I do is mess things up. I was supposed to help you earlier, but you ended up helping me out more than I ever did for you."

"That was by choice, Jesse. I wanted to help you out- to repay you for saving my life. It's the least I could've done."

He sniffles harshly and aggressively runs at his reddened eyelids. "But you don't understand...! I'm supposed to reprove my worth. How can I do that if I'm only proving that I'm even more of a screw-up?"

"Proving your worth to who?" I ask.

"It's not important-! Forget I said anything..."

I scoot closer to Jesse and reach for his hand. He's too tired to pull away and just accepts the touch.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't think you're a screw-up," I say, rubbing circles into his hand with my thumb. "You did a fantastic job at saving me, Jesse. If it weren't for you, I'd be laying dead in the street. And whoever you're trying to impress doesn't see what good of a job you're doing, then they can suck it. Try not to take anyone's crap."

"But..." Jesse coughs before sniffling again. "I don't have anyone anymore."

I flash him a tired, sympathetic smile. "You have me. That's what matters, right?"

Jesse's bottom lip trembles, and a pathetic whimper leaves his throat.

"You want a hug?"

He nods.

"Ok, c'mere."

We lay back down and wrap our arms around each other. His crying has started back up again- only it's quiet this time. For a moment, I stroke his hair but soon have to stop when I find myself growing tired again.

"I'm gonna... I'm gonna go back to sleep, ok?" I yawn and pat Jesse's back out of reassurance.

"M'kay..." he mumbles, sniffling softly.

"Al...right..."

With that, I fall asleep instantly. The last thing I hear is a quiet voice muttering a quick, "Thank you."

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Word Count: 3,593

Hey, guys! Thanks for waiting patiently for this one shot

A part 2 is definitely coming this way at some point! There's lots of lore for this AU that has yet to be uncovered *rubs hands together*

I hope you liked it, and I'll get that part 2 started as soon as I can. Got a schedule I gotta keep up

See you in the next chapter ❤️