Out of all the things Finch is expecting to happen, it's not this. It's definitely not Pinkman punching his father in the face, it's definitely not - someone standing up for him. It brings a lot of different emotions into play, ones that conflict wildly with each other; anger, fright, exhilaration. Nobody's stood up for him this way before. And he can't decide if that's a good or bad thing.
Pinkman strikes first, which means that from now on, it's self defense. Samuel's head knocks back from the force of the punch, and as he slowly looks back, there's a sort of tick-tick-tick sound, like an old rotary phone being turned. Nobody has stood up for Jesse this way before. This is uncharted territory, and Jesse's head - doesn't know how to handle it except to make it worse.
Samuel's eyes grow a little sharper, radioactive green, and Jesse darts forward, because everything is wrong. It's wrong, this isn't how it usually goes, it's a dream, and everything in Jesse's head protests. When he grabs Pinkman's wrist, it's him, the modern adult Finch that Pinkman's used to, and he looks and feels terrified. He doesn't say anything except for, "We gotta move," because already, Samuel's mouth is opening far wider than it should.
Finch yanks Pinkman back and towards the door, he won't look, he will not because he's had this dream before, not in this order, but - he knows that if he turns around and looks he'll see the long, bristle-haired limb pushing up out of Samuel's mouth, followed by another and another and fangs, too many eyes, pushing and pressing at the skin like it's a suit rather than flesh. The door is open, somehow, thank god, and Jesse drags Pinkman through it, down the twisted, distorted hallway as that buzzing sound builds again, roars through the hall and spills out through the walls in the form of shadows, nasty, swirling black mist. The discordant buzzing mixes with the sound of a snarling dog, right up close and in their ears, despite there not being anything there.
But like it always is in dreams, they just can't run fast enough.
( here lies a warning for GROSS THINGS )
Pinkman strikes first, which means that from now on, it's self defense. Samuel's head knocks back from the force of the punch, and as he slowly looks back, there's a sort of tick-tick-tick sound, like an old rotary phone being turned. Nobody has stood up for Jesse this way before. This is uncharted territory, and Jesse's head - doesn't know how to handle it except to make it worse.
Samuel's eyes grow a little sharper, radioactive green, and Jesse darts forward, because everything is wrong. It's wrong, this isn't how it usually goes, it's a dream, and everything in Jesse's head protests. When he grabs Pinkman's wrist, it's him, the modern adult Finch that Pinkman's used to, and he looks and feels terrified. He doesn't say anything except for, "We gotta move," because already, Samuel's mouth is opening far wider than it should.
Finch yanks Pinkman back and towards the door, he won't look, he will not because he's had this dream before, not in this order, but - he knows that if he turns around and looks he'll see the long, bristle-haired limb pushing up out of Samuel's mouth, followed by another and another and fangs, too many eyes, pushing and pressing at the skin like it's a suit rather than flesh. The door is open, somehow, thank god, and Jesse drags Pinkman through it, down the twisted, distorted hallway as that buzzing sound builds again, roars through the hall and spills out through the walls in the form of shadows, nasty, swirling black mist. The discordant buzzing mixes with the sound of a snarling dog, right up close and in their ears, despite there not being anything there.
But like it always is in dreams, they just can't run fast enough.