A/N: Okay well I'm kind of new to this so we'll see how this goes. I'm just really upset about the series ending so I've basically decided to write my own little afterwards post-felina thing. So this is basically out of my sadness for the series finale. I'll edit later, since it might have grammar errors.

WARNING: Non-graphic violence and cruelty, slavery.

I do not own Breaking Bad or any of its characters.


All he could remember was that he was screaming non-stop, screaming until his voice went hoarse and screaming until it eventually turned into numerous amount of sobs. Though, most of it came out slightly muffled due to the strip of cloth covering the entrance of his mouth. After disregarding the orders to keep shut by the gang, they easily forced themselves to strike him until he did.

Jesse anxiously watched the blond, cold-blooded killer walk up the steps of his girlfriend's house, who he hadn't seen in several months (And God, how much he regrets it now was beyond words), and wasn't even certain if she was his girlfriend anyway, since he had broken things off with her recently.

The others in the van eyed Todd as he rang the doorbell, one of the neo-nazi's holding down the chained prisoner as he started to shift and lunge his body forwards in order to free himself, but shortly after, finding it pointless. In a matter of seconds, the front door creaked open slightly, revealing Andrea's weary face as she pushed the door outwards as far as the lock let her. Nobody in the van could see or hear it, though Todd was ominously yet politely talking his way to the woman to make it seem like he wouldn't hurt a fly. It was eerie; how nonchalant Todd behaved in such... unacceptable situations.

Inaudible to the conversation between Todd and Andrea, Jesse watched helplessly, letting out quiet whimpers now and then as the scene progressed. He leant his forehead onto the window, slightly puzzled that he wasn't hit or pulled back for moving up too close.

Andrea's outside now, out on the porch walking towards the direction of their black van. She was out in the open, so vulnerable, and so easy to kill.

Jesse starts to scream again, slamming his body against the window with all his might. Trying to scream out to save her but unable to. He goes limp again, only able to stare and hope for the least negative outcome that could occur.

Mumbling is heard from the two on the porch and eventually Todd had pulled out his firearm (Finally! Uncle Jack would have thought), and pointed it to the back of the young woman's head, her being completely lost in confusion and oblivious of her upcoming fate. Then, he pulled the trigger.

Andrea's body went limp as she fell against the concrete at the end of the steps. Without hesitation, Jesse started to scream once again, pushing himself against the window as if that were to save her even if already too late. His screams turn to into wails as the neo-nazi that was previously holding onto him, jerks him back, further away from the view of the body of his loved one.

The door of the vehicle opens and the young killer of a boy steps in and buckles in his seat belt as if he had a right to be safe, even if by the slightest. He brushed off their hostage's attempts to hurt Todd in any way, giving a slight grin as he watched their pet fail, remembering that he was chained, and breaking down in more tears. His wails grew louder.

"Hey! Hey, settle down! Settle down..." Uncle Jack raised his voice as he turned around to eye Jesse, who was remaining to struggle against grip and scream as loud as his lungs could bear. "Remember, there's still the kid." The older man adds in. He doesn't particularly look mocking nor wry, but more to the expression of a serious job that needed to be taken care of in order to discipline their inferior slave.

And with that, Jesse quiets down, not exactly willing to get another one of his loved ones killed, especially not Brock -Anyone else but the kid- who was almost like a son to the young man held captive. He managed to even more calm himself slightly. Although he was still bawling, but it was subtle from outside of the van. He fell against Todd's waist, disgusted with himself for even making contact with this monster, but he had no choice anyhow. The man on the other side of the backseat held down his legs as Todd held down his torso area.

The car finally started moving, and the closer they got to their hideout was the closer Jesse's body became vacant; empty.

The closer he got to losing hope about ever escaping.


Jesse woke with a rough and painful force that blew to his right shoulder. He must have fainted inside the van because now he was in the pit again, looking up to see one of his assailants shutting the grate of his pit, giving a wry smirk of contempt.

The vacant pit quickly became dark and nearly pitch-black as the cruel man placed the blue tarp on the top of the grate. Jesse listened for the footsteps to fade away.

Now he was really alone. He didn't have his parents, he didn't have Andrea, or Jane... Hell, he didn't even have Mr. White.

No one was coming to save him, and that now became a certain fact. But maybe he deserves it. He deserves all of this. But... Why Andrea?

It didn't seem fair. Then again, nothing ever really was for him, ever since he met the so-called asshole Heisenberg, his life turned into a literal hell. But even before that...

Jesse became unaware of his growing sobs as he laid in fetal position in the center of the floor of the pit. Darkness surrounded him, complete emptiness and remorse sunk in. And pain, who could forget the fucking pain?

More than a part of him hoped that the neo-nazi's would grow tired of him and just... fucking end him already. It didn't matter if it hurt like fuck or not... As long as it ended up with him lifeless on the ground like a slab of meat, even though they already viewed him as just that. Maybe if he was lucky, one of the neo-nazi's -What was his name?- would get drunk again and beat him to death. Although he'd prefer a quick death, did he really deserve that?

His 'girlfriend', killed, again. But this time it had really been his fault. Mr. White had killed Jane... but this... this was... he might as well as pulled the trigger against Andrea's head himself. Jesse let out a wail and rolled over to his other side, his chest aching with grief and loneliness. Everything was gone now, because of him. The only person left was Brock, that is, if he managed to escape one day without getting the kid murdered as well. But where would Brock even be sent to? His Grandma's? Who else would he have to go to?

Not to mention, where would he go if he would ever manage to escape? His parents were who the hell knows where, if they're still in the same house. Adding in that they've basically disowned him.


Jesse cries non-stop for the next few days and gets beaten and mocked for doing so. Again. By the end of the week, his clothes are left stained with dried-brown blood and he's forced to change into Todd's pieces of clothing. Again.

He was forcefully hosed down (along with the pit) without any clothes due to its forming of foul odours to the point where it would stretch through the tarp and reach to the distance of the lab. After being humiliated and called vile names, Jesse literally begged, countless nights, to be killed. Only to have them laugh and snicker in his face.


Three months after he was captured, Jesse started to accept the fact that he'd never escape, and that no one would come looking for him. Some nights he would wonder what Mr. White was doing, if he even felt the slightest of guilt for what he had caused, or if he was still even alive. But then again, the asshole probably thought he was dead, taken care of, by now. So refraining the statement, no one was coming for him. The only thought on Jesse's mind at the moment was of how long he would be here until he snaps?

I deserve all of this. Jesse pulled himself up to sit against the wall, carefully positioning the side of his ribs so that they weren't painfully aching. His hair was grown so that it stuck out in all directions. His facial hair had grown a bit as well. He looked down to his chain-linked bloody wrists, wondering if he'd get anything tonight for the batch he had just cooked.

Sometimes they'd give him leftovers from what they had eaten that night; pizza usually, or just soup. Sometimes he'd get ice cream or a drink other than water. But most of the time he slept most nights hungry and without meal. As for tonight, it's been 3 days since he'd last eaten...

Until the tarp was whipped off from the top of the grate and the figure of Todd stood above Jesse. "I got you some to eat." The younger man spoke, creaking open the grate and lowering the usual white bucket that he uses to give the captive food and drinks. "It's, um, chicken soup. Not much, but... yeah."

Jesse stood halfway, buckling his knees and cradling the side of his chest as he reached for the bowl inside of the bucket. He sat back down on the filthy mattress in the center of the pit, groaning as he did, and immediately started to dig into the soup, which barely had anything other than liquid. "Hey uh, do you have it?" Jesse hoarsely asked as Todd pulled up the bucket and closed the grate. "...Please?"

Todd made an uncomfortable facial expression and reached into the back of his pocket. "Yeah, yeah, here." He pulled out a photo from his back pocket and knelt to slip it through one of the holes between the bars of the grate. "Hey, listen, I'm not supposed to give you that, so keep it between us, okay? Wouldn't want you to get in some 'trouble'." Todd warned, waiting for Jesse to nod faintly, which he did. The younger man stood back up and placed the tarp back over the grate.

Jesse placed his bowl of soup onto the mattress and reached over to where the photograph lay. He picked it up, holding his chest with his left hand and holding the image with the other.

It was the same photo of Andrea and Brock used to force Jesse into cooking for them. Taken from inside of the gang's hangout. It wouldn't mean much to anyone else, considering that it was a photo taken without a person's consent, but Jesse held onto it for his life, or rather, kept it in his pocket and hoped that he wouldn't have to be hosed down anytime soon (since they usually did it once a week), or that they wouldn't abstain him for holding onto a photo of loved ones.

He fell back onto the mattress (since no pillow was ever provided), and stared up at the tarp, wondering if they'd one day find him redundant and kill him anytime soon.


At the fifth, almost sixth month, Jesse completely submitted himself towards these bastards, the only priority on his mind at the moment was if he'd get a special treat tonight. Sometimes if his batch came out with the lower purity than before, he'd get in huge trouble with an appalling punishment. Last month, they had threatened to cut out his eye because the purity of his batch was too low, but the only thing they left was a filthy scar dragging below and beside his right eye. In the same month, they took on a new hobby of burning him with their cigarettes and pulling on his now lengthy hair. He still got beatings, though, not a lot, but they were usually from 'provoking' the gang members with innocent questions-What time do I get to go to sleep?- or sometimes the others got drunk and would group up on him and humiliate him in front of everyone. The worst was when they'd force him without clothing to be hosed down full force in front of the gang. Point in fact that they hadn't given him a 'shower' in nearly a month now... at least he thought it was nearly a month.

Apparently, this batch ended up being the best of all of them; 98.9% of pure crystal. In reward, they gave him leftovers of pizza, drinks, and warmer blankets to sleep in. "See what'appens when yer good, kid?" one of the neo-nazi's had 'congratulated' him later in the night.

Jesse would have to do another batch tomorrow though, which gave them more of an excuse to remain threatening him- "If this batch isn't better than the last one, you're fucked"- but Jesse liked it in the lab better anyway. It wasn't pitch dark, he had more space to walk, air-conditioned... and it was a more preferable place that anyone would consider in this situation. In the pit, the nights were usually filled with fear and bad odours and bad dreams. Speaking of, Jesse liked to daydream about a lot of things as well; where he'd want to vacation, if he would ever get a dog or pet one day, what he would want to eat right now... Sometimes he thought of good time memories and got too drifted away in them and would be profoundly upset when he snapped out of it. The one thing he daydreamed of mostly was building that wooden chest in class in High School, but he was always interrupted by Todd, or one of the gang members, or just by himself.

Something was different the next day though, Todd had told him that the gang wanted to see him. Another fucking group beating...? He nodded and waited for Todd to unlock him from the 'chain leash', as he liked to call it. "C'mon." Todd gently said, his hand on Jesse's shoulder, directing him out of the lab (even though he already knew his way). Todd started to speed up and Jesse was forced to run ahead with the manacles jingling along.

Todd told the man at the doorway- Jesse later found out his name; Frankie... he thinks...-that Uncle Jack "wanted to see Jesse", and with that, the neo-nazi let them both in, staring at Jesse like he was gum underneath a shoe.

He was shaking, a nervous hitch with every breath. His hair was long now, sometimes it would fall in front of his forehead and cover his eyes, but the gang didn't seem to care. Hell, they barely cared about Jesse himself.

As he stepped into the room, he saw who he had least expected to show up. It was... Mr. White, of all people. That name felt peculiar in his thoughts. Jesse didn't know how to feel, or react, as he stood frozen near the doorway. "Yeah, see what I'm talking about, you son of a bitch?" Uncle Jack raised his voice as he shortly later reached towards Jesse to grab him by the back of the neck and force him forwards. Through grunts, Jesse worked his legs and stumbled into the lighter section of the room. And there stood Heisenberg himself, except it wasn't Heisenberg any more. "Now does this look like a partner to you?" He added. Jesse hung his head down, now feeling tears string into his eyes. "C'mere, take a look at him! C'mere!" he shouted again, demanding Walt to walk forwards. The man who was once an innocent Chemistry teacher slowly approached closer, triggering Jesse to hold up his head and give this bastard a scorn, disdain look. It quickly failed though as Mr. White- Walter got too close and as Uncle Jack started to use taunting words.

"Take a look at him."

"Half a gander."

"He's my partner, right partner? Right buddy?" Jack gave a slight wry grin. "Hard-working good partner,"

"50-50 partner." With this, Jesse finally had to use all his strength to try not to break down in front of everyone. Uncle Jack had gotten this phrase from that confessions video meant for Hank and the DEA. He misused it to mock, hence the whole 50-50 thing was supposed to be of Jesse and Mr. White-"Hey, that's totally uncool man; 50-50 partners!" - "You can't order shit, Adolf, okay? We're 50-50 partners, remember?"-, rather than... Jesse and the abusive neo-nazis. "Can you hurry this shit up? Make it quick." Uncle Jack ordered but nothing happened except a moment of silence throughout the room.

Walt abruptly ran forward and threw Jesse towards the ground- the gang gave a loud 'ooh' altogether-, the meth king persistent on holding him down. He could feel Jesse shaking and grunting underneath, probably fucking terrified, but it was for the best.

"Hey Toddy, get'im off!" Jack demanded and others joined in-"Yeah, Toddy, get'im off!"-and started laughing as if the situation was hilarious. Todd knelt down and with his best grip, tried to pull off Mr. White, with no luck. The moment precipitated as the entire hangout became a shootout, with only one gun. Bullets drew everywhere, filling the air with blood and darting through each and every one of the gang members, except for Todd, who was already on the floor, crawling to a safer area.

Walt could hear Jesse trying to scream as he gave up on trying to get out of Walt's grip. It'll be over soon, Jesse... Calm down, son.

Walt grunted in pain as a bullet suddenly shot right through him, piercing through his side. He lowered his head in slight defeat and pain. Soon enough, the roaring sound of gunfire halted, and all that there was to be heard was blood dripping from the following corpses. Walt pushed himself off Jesse, giving him more space to breath and moan in fear and shock.

After a moment of sudden realisation, Jesse rolled himself over to see Todd, staring out of the window, so vulnerable and out in the open. "Jesus... Mr. White..." The youngest man began but couldn't finish as the chain from Jesse's manacles wrapped around his throat, cutting off his supply of oxygen. Jesse pulled him back, falling over to the ground to bring Todd with him. The younger of the two struggled to try to release himself until Jesse tightened his grip and suffocated every last living inch of Todd. And God, it felt so good.

He unwrapped the chains around Todd's neck and searched his jeans for the keys to his manacles.

As he unlocked himself free, another gunshot was heard from the same room; Walt had just killed Uncle Jack. Jesse pulled himself up from the ground, disregarding his aching sides, and stared at the man before him who held the same firearm used to shoot Jack. Walt looked just as different as he did himself did. He stared, only seeing that Mr. White was about to shoot him. This is it. This is where it all ends. But... he didn't shoot. Instead he bent over and slid the firearm across the floor, closer to Jesse.

Without hesitation, Jesse bent down and grabbed the gun, then proceeded to point it towards the direction of Mr. White.

"Do it." Walt spoke weakly, nodding as he did so. Jesse's face grimaced as if he were about to break down crying. "You want this."

"Say the words...!" Jesse exclaimed, shaking his head slightly. It was the first words he'd spoken this week. "Say it! Say that you want this!" He continued, broken and pain-filled tears rolling down his cheeks. His throat felt dry of any source of fluid as he gulps, "Nothing happens until I hear you say it."

Walt stared for a short moment, no emotion whatsoever. "I want this." He said, nearly a whisper. Jesse held back an impulse to break down sobbing as he tightened his grip on the firearm. He looked over to Walt's side, where it was slowly increasing its soaking of blood. He got shot. He looked at up to Walt's face, to see the older man awaiting his death. Jesse lowered his gun.

"Then do it yourself." He softly murmured, releasing the gun and letting it fall to the ground. As soon as he walked out, he felt the air of freedom and relief. It was overwhelming, really. His wrists and angles felt free of shackles. Jesse walked over to Todd's car and used his keys from previously to unlock it. Eventually Walt had walked outside as well, speaking into a mobile (Todd's), "...Like you've got the flu? That would be the Ricin I gave you. I stuck it into that Stevia crap that you're always putting in your tea..." He was silent for a short moment, when he finally mumbled, "...Well, goodbye Lydia."

Jesse watched as Walt threw the cellphone carelessly to the ground, and pulled up his head to stare at Jesse one last time. He nodded, as if to say Goodbye. Jesse took a deep breath and nodded back, then promptly and swiftly climbed into the car and started the engine. Full of excitement, he backed up and speeded towards the gate of the neo-nazi hideout, bursting it open with full force. Finally, after holding it all in for months, he started to sob with tears of happiness, screaming at the top of his lungs euphorically. He could crash at any moment, but right now, he was honestly careless whether he died or not. He was finally out, that's all that mattered.

Sirens were in the distance and Jesse thought them too late, Heisenberg had won again, one step in front of everyone else. Before they arrived, he'd already be dead- it was certain. Jesse didn't know whether or not to feel happy about that. He was a monster and the devil, but he was also the closest thing to family that he had.

Farewell, Walter White.


A/N: Okay. Well, um thanks for reading if you bothered to, haha. I'm so, SO upset over the finale ugh. Leave a review, and thanks for reading. I think I might do a second chapter.