An idea that came to me! so I'm planning on writing out a few short 'what if' senarios for breaking bad .. I haven't read through this twice so there might be some mistakes. Reviews and ideas are super welcome :)
What if Walter White's crazy idea to start cooking meth stayed as just that- a crazy idea...
Walter felt his heart racing as his Brother in Law Hank charged into the drug lab. From his spot in the car he could he could just about see the figure of a man being forced to the ground by the swat teams. The guy looked up at the guns, fear and frustration on his face.
Nothing could of prepared Walt for what he saw next- out of a neighbors window, a half-naked man came tumbling out, painfully sliding of the roof down onto the floor, landing flat on his face. From the window the guy had just descended from, a topless woman tossed down his clothes, the guy hastily pulled on his baggy pants quickly, stumbling over himself in haste. The guy suddenly flicked his head up, and looked directly at Walt.
Walt suddenly felt a terrifying jolt of recognition run through him.
"Pinkman?"
It was Jesse Pinkman- one of his old students from about eight years ago. The boy had hardly changed since he was sixteen, except he had stubble now, and he looked thinner than ever.
Jesse looked at him, equally shocked, the boy put a finger to his mouth, desperately trying to stop his former teacher from reacting in anyway. Walt could only watch mouth- agape as Jesse ran to his car, and dived in, speeding of without the DEA agents even noticing.
Walter ran a hand through his thinning hair- He always thought Jesse Pinkman was trouble, but a drug dealer? Really? He could hardly believe it. He thought of how much money a drug-dealer could make. It seemed so unfair that He had to scrounge and work all his life just to keep his family secure, when the likes of Jessie Pinkman could just take short-cuts. It made his blood boil. Suddenly Walter White was struck with a crazy idea- he had the chemistry, he could cook Meth- and with the help of someone like Jesse Pinkman he could sell it to. Then he'd be the one with the money, and his family would be left with something otherr than debt when the lung cancer finally killed him. But no, Walter thought finally, shaking his head- he knew that'd only cause more trouble, the plan itself was full of all sorts of problems, he slumped defeated in the car seat, sighing. No, being a drug dealer just wasn't him.
Walter never could work up the courage to tell his family about his cancer. They hardly noticed the difference- Skylar made a couple remarks on how he should get a doctor to look at that cough, and she voiced her concerns about the amount of weight he'd been losing. In the end, he didn't have to tell his family, they found out in quiet possibly the worst way possible, when he collapsed on the floor during dinner, after a particularly bad coughing fit. Skylar always resented the fact that her husband waited until it was too late to tell her about his cancer, but she couldn't take it out on him- it was hard to be mad at someone as mild-mannered as Walt.
Walter was half-forced to except Gretchen's offer to pay for his treatment, but it was too late to do much help. Walter wasted away, spending his last few months as a defeated man too weak to fight for his life anymore
From then on, life at home was tense at best, Junior became more distant, and Skylar just tried so hard to keep it all together, but being pregnant and having a teenage son with a disability, and a husband with terminal cancer would never be easy. Walter was over-joyed he made it to his daughter's birth, but even that was bitter-sweet. He was hit with the sudden realization that this girl wouldn't even remember him, and he didn't even get the chance to leave her anything behind.
Walter eventually spent his days wasting away at home, too sick to work. He tried to keep working for as long as he could, but he just kept getting weaker and weaker.
"Don't worry- buddy, you know I'll always look after your family if you- if you- ". Hank said, as he stood over Walter's hospital bed. Walter was too tired to answer. He himself wanted to be the one to look after Junior and Skylar but he couldn't- he was restrained to the hospital bed, wires and tubes were his chains.
Walter caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, he was looking worse than ever, his hair was patched and his face looked gaunt. His eyes were like a dead man's. The last thing Walter white felt before he died in the hospital bed was regret- regret his baby daughter wouldn't remember him, regret on all the thing's he'd miss out on- Junior going to college, Holly's first steps, the chance to grow old with the woman he loved, he felt regret for all the missed opportunities he'd had- if only he hadn't left the grey matter company.. If only he had the courage to at least try and sell drugs, so his family wouldn't have to struggle like they were doing now. If only. If only.
After Emillio's arrest, Jesse found himself back at his Aunt Jenny's house. His house now. It had been so sureal seeing his old chemistry teacher, he just prayed to God the guy wouldn't rat him out. Jesse was pretty confident he wouldn't, from what he remembered from class the guy was too much of a sissy to stand up to anyone, memories of playing around with the bunsen burner and messing around in class while Mr White tried weakly to stop him flooded his mind. Jesse smiled despite himself. Simpeler times when all he needed to get high was a couple of smokes on a shared spliff. Despite the fact he didn't even graduate from it, Jesse missed high school.
Jesse had been laying low for almost a month after the police raid, making money by doing odd jobs. Window cleaning, selling weed. It was a saturday mourning he heard a knock on his door. The sound resounded around the house, aprehensivly, Jesse went to the door.
"Hola amigo."
Jesse gasped "Emillio! You got bailed out bro? Awesome yo!" Jesse said, grinning widely, he raised his hand for a high-five, but Emillio stayed staring at him, stoney-faced.
"So. The one time you out the house, fucking that whore of a neighbour- the police come?"
Jesse glared at him "Yo! I would- I would never grass on you bro, your like! A brother to me! I'm offended and shit."
Emillio rolled his eyes. "Jesse your a rat and everyone knows it."
"I'm not listening to this shit!" Jesse shouted, trying to slam the door, but Emillio's foot was suddenly in the way.
"Yo bitch! Let me close my door!" Jesse yelled, he pushed Emillio away, but suddenly stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who was heading up the driveway. It was Krazy-8. He had a gun.
On instinct, Jesse turned to flee back into the house, only for Emillio to grab him by the hood of his over-sized hoodie and slam him into the floor. Jesse looked up disorientated at the two older men standing over him.
"Let's make this easy," Krazy-8 said, resting his foot forcefully on Jesse's stomatch keeping him restrained. "When I take my foot of you- your going to stand up, and walk to the car with us. You make any fucking trouble and I will personally blow your fucking brains out all over the driveway."
Jesse nodded feverently, shakily getting to his feet, he turned to Emillio "I never ratted man- I swear- yo! We should like- go back to making Chilli meth man. It's the bomb!" Jesse rambler, as Krazy 8 shoved him into the car. Passers by hardly gave the trio a second glance.
Jesse pratteled on, desperation sinking into his voice, while the car speeded of. He wasn't even thinking about what he was saying- Jesse's mind was elsewhere, panic thoughts ran through his mind- what'll they do to me? What's going to happen?
His eyes honed on the gun 'will they use it?'.
After what seemed like an eternity, they eventually pulled up at a junk-yard on the edge of town. Jesse suddenly had no doubts about what was going to happen to him. He shook a violently, as Emillio grabbed him by the arm and roughly dragged him out.
"Ah- fuck- Bitch!"
Krazy-8 stood over him, gun pointed at the younger man's head. Krazy knew the man before him hadn't been the one to rat Emillio out- but he needed someone to blame, or else it wouldn't be long before the whole neighborhood found that he'd been the informant all along. Even Emilllio was getting suspicious, Krazy-8 needed to clear his name- and for that he needed a scapegoat.
Its not like anyone will miss the guy anyway.
"On your knee's." Krazy-8 shouted, Jesse complied, sinking slowly to the ground.
"Listen- man- yo- " Jesse started, he stumbled over his words, his hands shaking. "Don't shoot me- yo. Emillio we've been tight since elementary man, you gunna blow that all away!?. don't shoot"
Krazy-8 regarded Jesse for a moment, Emillio standing silently by his side. "I'm not gonna shoot you, retard." Krazy 8 said.
Jesse still glared at the gun. "Okay. So you got me here. On my knee's. In the middle of nowhere with a gun to my head to NOT shoot me!?"
Krazy-8 laughed and handed his gun to Emillio, crouching down behind Jesse and hissing into his ear.
"Naw man, guns are messy."
Before he even knew what was going on, Jesse had a rusty chain wrapped around his neck. He flailed around like a mad man, limbs jerking in all directions. He didn't want to die here, in a dump, at the hands of a drug lord.
But sometimes shit happens, doesn't it?
If somebody asked Mrs Pinkman If she had any children, she'd answer 'Yes, I have one son!' Then proceed to tell the unsuspecting person all about Jake's latest achievements. As far as Mrs Pinkman was concerned she only had one son, she and her husband had wiped Jesse's existence from their life, ever since he just up and disappeared years ago.
Don't misunderstand, Mrs Pinkman loved both her sons, but she always felt like she could never connect with Jesse, like he was beyond her reach. Even when he was only a toddler, he wouldn't listen to 'no' he'd always make messes, go where he wasn't suppose to, break things. As he got older, she didn't understand why Jesse just couldn't sit and focus in lesson, why he seemed so far behind his fellow classmates, and why he always got into fights with the big kids instead of playing nice. She could never forget the first time she caught him smoking- he was eleven years old. Shouldn't kids that age be playing with power-rangers or something? The final straw was when she caught him doing weed at 13, Mr and Mrs Pinkman sent him to military school to try and straighten him out. It had the opposite affect. He was a different boy when he returned, he was withdrawn, he didn't speak as much. He began staying out all night- when he got brought back by the police one night Mrs Pinkman was mortified. The shame of having the whole neighborhood seeing what a disappointment her son was hit her hard. She still remembers to this day the curtain twitching, everyone staring out their windows to see Jesse being brought back in a police car. The shame. Adam had enough of him after that, he packed Jesse's bags and threw him out. He was 16. After that he went to live with Aunt Jenny's house, he seemed happier there, at least. Aunt Jenny was the black sheep of the family, Mrs Pinkman's sister she never really setteled down, maybe that's why her and Jesse got on so well, they were both rejects. Jesse never did stop doing drugs, she was sure, and he could never hold down a job.
That was why Mrs Pinkman was always so careful with her second son- forking him out to send him to private school, monitoring all his friends. She didn't want him to end up like Jesse. A loser.
Mrs Pinkman hadn't seen Jesse in over a year. It wasn't unusual for her not to see her eldest son for months so she thought nothing of it, until she got a knock on the door.
"Mrs Pinkman, we have some bad news."
