Chapter Three

"I am yours, you are mine
You are what you are
And you make it hard"

Jesse stares, not moving and not speaking, before blinking slowly and rubbing at his eyes, as if figuring that the person before him is merely a mirage.

"Jesse," Walt says finally. "I'm sorry to just…" He trails off, because there's really no way to end that sentence.

"Mr. White," Jesse replies, looking him up and down. "What happened to you?" Walt flushed; is it that obvious?

"Jesse, I…" His mouth stays open, but nothing comes out.

"Come in," Jesse says quickly, opening the door wider and gesturing inside as he steps back. "How'd you find me?" he asks as Walt steps gingerly on to the beige carpet, looking around and taking a mental inventory – Jesse's living room is sparsely furnished, a drab gray couch in front of a large TV; most of the rest of the room consists of scattered toys, trucks and Hot Wheels and an overturned remote-controlled helicopter. "Take a seat," Jesse says, his hand drifting in the direction of the couch as he moves to sit there himself. Walt joins him, slowly sinking into the couch cushion; he suddenly realizes why Jesse bought it despite its boring color.

He's invited me in. This is a good sign. He hasn't slammed the door in my face and told me to go get fucked.

"So what brings you – here?" Jesse inquires, looking at Walt with an unreadable expression. Walt is struck by just how much older Jesse looks, not in his features but in his eyes. Well, he's twenty-eight, now, it's… to be expected. But maybe it isn't. Maybe he imagined Jesse frozen in time, exactly how he'd left him.

"Bad news," Walt replies simply, and Jesse looks at him with understanding. When did he become so synchronized, Walt wonders, wasn't this the boy he always had to spell everything out to?

"How long?" Jesse's voice is soft, as if saying the words makes it real. To Walt, it does.

"A year. Maybe less."

Jesse looks away, looks down.

"I wanted to see you." Walt pauses, not wanting to finish with "one last time". "Again," he says instead.

"I'm glad you did," Jesse tells him. "Where are you staying?"

"The Doubletree." Jesse's eyes go wide.

"That's so expensive." So he's frugal now, too. "Stay here?"

"For how long?" Jesse shrugs.

"'Til you go back home to ABQ."

"I'm not going back." Jesse looks over like he must have misheard.

"Your wife? Your kids?" Walt raises a ringless finger.

"They moved on. Moved out. I see Junior a couple weekends."

"A month?"

"A year."

"But he's… eighteen," Jesse points out, "She can't keep him…"

"Nineteen," Walt corrects, "And away at college. Northwestern." Jesse nods somberly.

"Holly?"

"With Skyler." Walt waves his hands in the direction of "somewhere". Jesse fiddles with the ring on his own finger, Walt following his gaze. "You married… Andrea?"

"Yeah," Jesse replies, in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Where's she? Is she going to be okay with me staying here?" Walt presses, jealousy flushing to his features.

"Not here," Jesse responds, without a show of emotion. "Just me and Brock." Walt blinks.

"What happened?" Jesse stares at his hands, speaking as if he's reciting a catechism, parroting lines.

"When we got married, I adopted Brock. Two years ago – not that long after we got married, eight months, maybe, she went back to New Mexico to help take care of her grandma awhile, then she was gonna move her back up here with us. She… backslid, wanted to bring Brock back, to be around those same people, I said no – told her I'd fight for custody. She eventually… met somebody else, agreed to let me raise Brock while she sorted her shit out. We're still technically married, she still might… come back when she gets it all sorted out." Jesse shrugs, and Walt doesn't comment. The younger man looks at Walt, seemingly waiting for a sarcastic reply, and when he doesn't get one that he has to defend Andrea against, he simply sticks his hands in his pockets. "You should stay."

It's not "I want you to stay" nor is it even a passive "I'd like you to stay"; instead, it is simply a fact of nature – it is rational for him to stay. When Walt still doesn't say anything, he adds, "What do you have to lose?"