I can't tell you my name. I probably shouldn't be telling you any of this. But I'm always doing what I'm not supposed to, I always fuck up in the end. This isn't even about me it's about my sister – I'm not telling you her name either. Her whole life was about me. Don't get me wrong I'm no one special, that's just the way it turned out for her. My parents were always up my ass in high school about grades and drugs, you know stupid shit that didn't even matter. They were so busy worrying about me they forgot to worry about her, she kind of just disappeared in the background. She called them her wallflower days, because even when our parents looked right at her they were never really seeing her. There was this tree limb she painted on her wall with these little white flowers on the branches. I drew this bird and helped her paint it – our parents weren't even mad when they saw us cause we were just standing there making it look nice. When we finally turned around they said, that's really nice of you to paint her room Jesse it's beautiful. All I did was the bird, but they walked away before I could tell them.

But none of that's the point. The point is it was good for a while, it was me and her – and this other guy. I don't know if was him or me, maybe it was just both of us but things got real bad. And I kept her out of it for the most part, even when shit went down it never went back to her. Until suddenly it did.

I don't know how he found out about her, I don't know what he saw in her. And I don't mean anything bad about that, alright. Ain't nobody I know prettier than my sister. And she's smart, smarter than I ever was. I guess she's pretty nice too, most of the time she was just sad. He made her smile though. You know now that I think about it, I'm not sure if she was ever happier; at least until he died. I'm sure as hell not telling you his name, he's why we're hiding in the middle of fucking nowhere for the rest of our lives.

…

"Yeah I'm coming," Jesse yelled after the third time his name was called. He sat staring at the same words that'd been there all day with nothing new written, as he thought of everything that had happened.

He released a breath at the feel of hands wrapping around his shoulders, taking with it all his frustration and stress leaving him calm and content as she rested her cheek on his head. "Still haven't written any more?" she asked him softly.

His only answer was a shrug, having been stuck since yesterday. It wasn't bad, he thought, as he reread what he had; if only he could figure out what to write next. "I don't know where to start," he admitted. He'd tried starting when they were kids, about how he was the only boy who let his sister play with them, or in high school when she'd done some of his homework – he even tried to start when he figured out how sad she really was, but he couldn't even think about the thin scars on her legs let alone write about them. Nothing he tried worked, he kept deleting everything; now he was just stuck. Her face was sad when he looked up at her to see her reading, and tired like she'd lived longer than her thirty years and was waiting for the hurting to end. "Do you miss him?" he asked. Jesse didn't say his name; after his death Mike had said Gus' name once to her, and at the sight of her broken face it was never said to her again.

"Sometimes," she whispered, her voice a broken breath as her eyes clung to every he that alluded to him as though they might paint a picture of his face. Her heart clenched when the document suddenly disappeared, it took her a second before her breath caught up to her and she stood running a hand over her face. At the feel of cold metal against her skin she looked at the wedding ring on her hand and sighed trying to force the past out of her mind. "Who's the 'you' you keep talking to?"

"It's like a," he waved a hand trying to thinking of what he meant, "general you. You know, like I'm talking to the reader," he explained.

She nodded as though it made sense, even though the idea of writing any of it didn't make sense to her. "Are you thinking about publishing it, or just writing to write it?"

With a shrug he shook his head not really knowing why he wanted to write what happened to her; maybe so he'd actually figure out what did happen because she certainly didn't talk about it. "I kind of just wanna have something to do. It's boring out here." They rarely went anywhere except into town, which was small because they lived in a very rural part of the country.

He was right, they lived a very uneventful life – but there were people looking for her, or at least the two things Gustavo Fring had left her with, which meant only a limited number of people who actually knew their faces. It was why she didn't say anything about his story, it was something for him to do. "Well if the story's about me you could start with the day I came back," she offered as she made for the door. "That um, that crazy guy who said tight all the time,"

"Tuco," he laughed bitterly, giving her the name she didn't remember.

"Yeah," she said hearing a familiarity in it. "When he put you in the hospital, I guess that's really where I came in." She stood watching him nod as he thought, knowing that's where he'd start – nothing was important before that day, that day had been the start of everything. The only problem was that she couldn't decide if what it started was good. "Do it after dinner, we're all waiting for you."

Reluctantly he left the computer behind and followed her downstairs, smiling as he sat at the table with strange little family – it was the four of them, and the fifteen million dollars Gus had left to her.

Six Years Ago

Walt stared at Jesse; his ribs wrapped, his neck in a brace, an IV in his arm and wires sprouting from his chest connecting to the heart rate monitor that beeped unceasingly. This was his fault, and he'd make it right. "Does he have family coming?" Walt asked before he left.

"Yeah his sister flew down, she's talkin' to the doctor now. Jesse had her as that thing on the paper, the one that tells the doctors who to call if you come in."

"A medical contact," Walt said clarifying for the man what he was trying to say.

"Yeah that's it," Pete said nodding, his whole body seeming to bob with his head, "she's his medical contact. She called me yesterday after the doctor's called her asked what happened, told me to stay til she got here. That's what I'm doing."

Walt stood ready to leave, tendrils of a plan wrapping around his mind. "I didn't know he had a sister," he said quietly as he thought; a Miss Pinkman, he would've taught her Chemistry as well. It was almost vaguely familiar. He left the hospital room, Pete having given him Tuco's address, and nearly ran into the young woman rounding a corner. "I'm sorry," he said at the same time she apologized. There wasn't a better word for her than small; she was short, thin, and she looked fresh out of high school. Her eyes weren't as blue, the tip of her nose was rounder, the corners of her mouth tilted down in a soft frown – but there something in her face that reminded her of Jesse. And looking down at her then, he remembered her. "Julie Pinkman," he greeted.

She looked up surprised to find this particular man leaving Jesse's side; her brother hadn't liked him, and he hadn't really liked Jesse either. "Mr. White, how are you?"

"Oh," he started not sure what to say, "I'm good. How long's it been you must be Twenty, twenty-one?" he asked hoping not to be asked why he was there, he really had no good reason to give her.

"Twenty-four," she answered watching his brows raise in surprise. "Yeah I probably look exactly the same as when I graduated," she said hearing him chuckle before he broke off coughing. "You okay?" she asked. He sounded terrible, as though his lungs had melted and he was trying to cough them up.

He nodded brushing aside her concerns. "Yeah," he told her. "It was good seeing you again. It was quite the surprise to see a Pinkman taking the harder classes," he said smiling as he remembered how surprised he'd been to see her name that first year. "You always did so well until the final." It's what all the teachers had said; she got A's she rarely missed class she answered question, and then spring rolled around and suddenly she'd go days without coming in, her tests were always incomplete – but her homework was always done, her answers were right. She was a strange student. "Well I hope he gets to feeling better soon," he said moving around her. "It really is good to see you, I can't believe it's been so long."

She watched him hurry away wondering why he was there, knowing he'd skated around being asked – which really only made her more suspicious. "Hey Pete," she greeted moving around the curtain to stand by Jesse's bed.

"Here," he said jumping up and motioning to the chair.

Without taking her eyes off her brother she sat beside him listening to the dull beeping of his heart waves. It was almost calming, the machine lulling her gently, clearing her mind as she thought of why Jesse had gone to see a drug dealer. "Is that man working with Jesse?" she asked looking up at Pete; her brother wasn't exactly made for secrets, which meant both him and Badger probably knew.

Pete nodded emphatically, obviously on something – quite possibly on what he was telling her. "Yeah, his crystal's the bomb man."

She rolled her eyes as he continued; addicts had the subtly of hand grenades. But it answered her question, which only left her with several more – the biggest question of all being; why was Mr. White cooking meth with her brother?

I rewatched Breaking Bad and fell in love with Gus all over again, he's just such a great ambiguous character that I couldn't help myself. The story starts towards the end of 1x06, and she won't really have a lot to do with what happens from here until about season three so I'm hoping within the next two chapters to at least introduce Gus into the story. So I'll use these couple of chapters to flesh out Julie and show what her relationship is with the characters, and really delve into her relationship with Jesse. Thank you very much for reading, and please tell me if you're interested in reading more.