On a dark surburban street, HANK sits behind the wheel of an unmarked car with WALT in the passenger seat, both of them looking tense. They are parked outside of a house with several cardboard boxes on the porch.
You can’t be serious.
Oh I am, Walt.
This place is a dump. You can’t expect me to -
You’re not 'Heisenberg' anymore. You won't even be
'Walt' for much longer, so just shut up.
You're just jealous, Hank. Jealous because
my hair grows back.
A moving van pulls up in front of a house, and two teenage boys emerge from the house to unload boxes.
You know, Hank, I could make you very comfortable.
You don’t have to do this.
Oh but I do have to do this. It just so happens
that I want to, too.
INT. HANK'S OFFICE
HANK rests his hands on his fists, pensively looking at WALT who sits opposite him, with the copy of Leaves of Grass sitting in front of him.
Boy, I gotta admit, you had me fooled for a long
time, Walt. (He leans back in his chair)
All those times I thought I knew you.
You should have looked closer, Hank.
Right under my god damn nose. You know, if this
was anything else, I’d be impressed. But this is
my turf, Walt, and you know I can’t just leave this
alone, not something this huge. I’m obligated to bring
(leaning closer to HANK)
You know, I think some people would find it hard
to believe that you had no idea what I was up to. I
think they’d find it hard to understand how a DEA
official could have no idea that his brother in law
was running the largest crystal meth empire
in America. I don’t think you realise that this
doesn’t bode well for you either.
Hank sighs, stands and walks to the window.
You’re right, Walt. You’re absolutely right.
I know that if I turn you in for this you could
implicate me, but on the other hand I can’t just
let you walk away from this. Not scot-free, anyway.
What do you mean by that?
I mean that I’m not prepared to risk my career,
everything I’ve worked for, just to bring you down.
You’re not worth it. After all, don’t forget,
I know that at heart you’re just a bum.
You think I don’t watch Diagnosis Murder?
That was years ago, that was the nineties, everyone
did Diagnosis Murder…
Not me, Walt. All I got was Charmed, and JAG
(slams his fist against wall)
JAG, GOD DAMMIT!
What do you want from me, Hank?
I’ve made arrangements. You’ll need to pack up
some of your clothes and be ready for midnight.
We can’t risk doing this move in the day,
so be ready for when I come to get you tonight.
Move? What move?
Witness protection, Walt. You have no other options.
Walt starts toward Hank, but instead despondently turns to leave.
Oh and Walt?
Walt turns back to face him.
Don’t bother trying to run. I’ve got Jessica
Fletcher’s number - and she always finds what she’s
looking for, and it's usually a corpse.
You of all people should know that.
Walt leaves. The camera pans over to Hank’s computer, which has freeze frame shots from Murder She Wrote and Diagnosis Murder open, featuring Bryan Cranston. I mean, uh, WALT.
An irate, tall brunette woman knocks on the car window.
Hey! HEY! You can’t park here, this is a residence -
One second, ma’am. (To Walt)
Whaddaya think of her?
Her? She’s alright, I guess. But you know
I’m not interested, right?
Yeah I know, alright. You’re not going to
ever move on from Skylar, you don’t want to find
anyone else, blah blah blah.
What do you mean, blah blah blah?
I’m serious, Hank.
Just like you were serious all those times
when I confided in you, when we sat together at
meals as a family? (leaning in to WALT)
When you visited me in the hospital? That’s what
I thought. Get out of the car.
Hank slams the car door, getting his coat caught up in it. As he struggles to free it, a man in a crisp suit is led from the house toward the van across the road in handcuffs.
Who’s that guy?
Oh, that’s your ‘son’.
Your son, his name's Francis. Used to be Barney.
(He manages to free his coat)
He’s been sent into witness protection after
New York’s entire female population filed simultaneous
sexual harassment claims, all on the same
Are you… are you sure that’s him, and not just
someone who kind of looks like him?
I…uh… budget constraints, ya know
Right. Well, what’s he doing here anyway?
Well, the cost of the trials would have
bankrupted the city of New York, so this was
a cheaper solution.
He’s just going to get away with it, then,
a sex-offender? A REPEAT sex-offender?
Nope. He’s off to military school.
(He smirks) No women, no freedom, and a cadet uniform
so far removed from his beloved designers suits,
it should drive him crazy in a matter of hours.
Hey, he’s the monster here, not me. The best part
is he’s your son.
He… he’s what?
Well, ya know, not biologically of course. But for
the purposes of Witness Protection, we’ve gotta
have somewhere to put him once he’s done his
time in military school, so he’s going to be
your oldest son.
I told you, Hank! I didn’t want a new family.
If you’re going to take me away from my real
family, I don’t want to be put with another.
And I told YOU, Walt, that you don’t get to choose
anymore. You’re not Heisenberg now.
(He places a hand on WALT's shoulder)
You don’t have to live with him for the most part.
But there’s the other three you’ll have to put
Hanks nods in the direction of the two boys who had been unloaded moving boxes. They are now engaged in a fist fight while a smaller, younger, big-eared boy is setting fire to the plants on the front lawn.
We should stop that kid!
‘We’? He’s your son, Walt.
Him too? God dammit, Hank.
All three of them are, and you see her, there?
(he points at the woman who is storming back to the car)
That’s your new wife. You can call her Lois.
Oh god… why’s she in protection?
She’s done a few things, here and there.
Frasier, Law and Order, Party of Five. To be honest,
this is just another gig for her.
Uh… never mind.
Hey, come in if you’re coming in, don’t just sit
there letting the kids do all the work.
They walk toward the house.
(looking helplessly at Hank)
Don’t do this to me, Hank. I'll have a breakdown
here, I just know it.
You’ll see, Walt. This is for your own good.
Solemnly he walks to the door.
I guess you think I should be thanking you, Hank.
Thank me by never, ever trying to contact anyone
of us, ever.
Walt clenches his fists. Hank starts to walk toward the car but turns one last time.
Oh yeah and uh, make sure you read through
your profile pack.
WALT removes a book from the inside pocket of his jacket.
Get to grips with your new identity.
I thought you said we’d discuss the name, you
said we’d talk about the new career -
Yeah well, I changed my mind. don’t screw things up
this time, buddy.
He turns round and walks away toward the car without turning back. Hank stands there, leafing through the pages.
Son of a… (shouts after Hank)
Are you kidding me with this? I’m ‘Henry’? You
named me after yourself?
Hey, you don’t have to go by ‘Henry’.
(He turns and smiles)
You could go by Hank. Or, I don’t know, there are
other versions you could use...
(shrugs his shoulders)
How about Hal?