A/N: Hello thanks for reading and leave a review please! I'm kind of self-conscious about writing or literally anything I do... Anyways, enjoy.

WARNING: Not-so-graphic flashback of cruelty and violence.

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

"Hello?" Marie ran to the phone quickly as it had rung several times now.

"Marie Schrader?"

"Yes... Who is this?"

"This is the police enforcement. It has come to our notice that you are the widow of Hank Schrader of the DEA," They started. Tears welled up in Marie's eyes by the mention of the name. "We found Jesse Pinkman earlier today, who had been allegedly working with 'Heisenberg'... He's taken in custody for questioning." Marie thought she heard the angels sing. This kid wasn't as near to Walt for killing Hank, but now Walt's dead, and this is the closest thing. Originally she'd thought he was killed along with Hank and Gomez, but she had her suspicions.

"Oh thank God. Has he said anything?"

"Not a word. But the story from his friends that we took in as well, told us that he arrived at one of their houses last night, apparently looking tormented. Other than that, they didn't know anything." Marie nodded subconsciously as tears streamed down her cheeks. It wasn't like she cared whether the kid was tormented or not. "It is your choice to come in or not."

"Right. I'll be there around 5..." she sniffled. "Thanks... Bye." Marie hung up the phone and immediately picked it back up to call her sister, not like she would care much about this Pinkman kid (it's not like it was Walt), but she needed someone to tell since Hank obviously wasn't here any more.

"Please... I don't... I don't know-!" Jesse cried aloud as Todd repeatedly threw his fist violently against Jesse's cheek. The younger man massaged his bloody knuckles as they began to ache from hitting too much. Jesse sat inside a pit (on a very uncomfortable steel chair), his hands and legs bound together with manacles, cutting into his wrists. "I don't know!" Blood pooled in his mouth and streamed down his nose.

"Jesse, you know exactly what I'm asking for," Todd responded in a swift and soft tone. It was eerie; a man beating up another into a bloody pulp, yet can remain so calm through it all. He threw another fist sloppily with his left hand. "What did you tell those men in the DEA?" Jesse disregarded and continued to cry, hanging his head low. Todd gave a faint scoff as he pulled an irritated look.

"Hey Toddy," Uncle Jack peeked through the top of the grate. "He say anythin' yet?" He added as he walked towards the entrance of the grate, eyeing Jesse deviously.

"No." Todd scratched the back of his neck subconsciously. "He says he doesn't know what I mean." Uncle Jack took the cigarette out of his mouth and held it between his finger as he blew out smoke. He climbed down the ladder that led into the pit and gently pushed Todd aside to face Jesse himself.

"Now, you told those DEA pricks anythin'?" Jack asked calmly, yet sounding as threatening as ever.

I'm not telling these assholes anything. Jesse grew his bravery back as he dared to faintly whisper, "Go to Hell", one eye swollen shut, blood dripping past his lips. Jack gave a wry snicker as he looked behind him to Todd, who looked as if he were patiently waiting for the situation to unfold. Jack stared back at Jesse with contempt, then lifted up his cigarette to hold it against Jesse's neck. He gave a smug grin at the fact that Jesse was screaming as the hot end of the cigarette burnt through his flesh.

"Listen kid, we need questions to be answered and you can't answer them if you're crying." One of the men interrogating had said, unsympathetic and careless to how broken Jesse actually looked. The man looked about 40, was buff and had a cunning look on his face, as if it were plastered on permanently. The other man was slightly overweight and short with a goatee of grey hairs.

"The chains..." Jesse barely whispered.

"What?"

"The handcuffs..." He croaked as he tugged once more at them.

"Look, kid, if I get off the handcuffs, you gonna answer what ever questions I ask?" Jesse nodded briefly. The interrogator reached over with keys to unlock the handcuffs, but he was tapped on the shoulder by the other man in the room.

"Ralph, you sure about this?"

"Come on, Steve, look at the kid. He barely has enough strength to walk." The other man, Steve, backed up and allowed Ralph to unlock the cuffs. "Plus, there's two of us and one of him." Jesse cradled his hands onto his lap and awaited any questions.

"Okay. So first of all, is this your car?" The man pull out a photo from a case file and placed it onto the table. It was a photo of Todd's black car, that he drove here from the hideout. Jesse did no movement to answer the question. "Kid, I took off the handcuffs." Still no reply. The man questioning gave a face of irritation and moved to Jesse's hands to slap on the cuffs again.

"No...!"

"Then, answer the questions." The oldest man in the room spoke in a growling tone. "Is that, your car?" He pointed at the photo. Jesse faintly nodded as he hung his head low. "See? That isn't so hard. Next question; Are you familiar of a man by the name Todd Alquist?" Jesse nodded.

"How about two men named Hank Schrader and his partner Steven Gomez?" Jesse nodded again. "The man who killed them, Walter White, also know as Heisenberg, recently gave us the-"

"He didn't kill them." Jesse flatly interrupted with an emotionless expression on his face. "Not entirely." The interrogator looked to his partner with a sort of take-this-down look, and turned back to Jesse. The other man took out a notepad and readied himself to start writing. Jesse told them the entire story of being in the desert, leaving out the part of getting taken to the hideout, which was pointless anyway. They didn't seem to notice until...

"What happened to you then? Your friends said you went missing for approximately six months." Jesse thought about just spilling, but going to prison wasn't exactly his priority. But then again, what else did he have to lose? Maybe it'd be better behind bars, nobody would get killed because of him. "So you're saying that the neo-nazi gang are the people who killed Hank and Gomez, took 80 big ones from Heisenberg, and somehow 'forgot' you there? I highly doubt that, kid." They knew what happened, Jesse knew they knew, they just wanted to hear him say it.

"They took me okay?!" He abruptly shouted at the man, his voice shaky and hoarse. "Is that what you wanted to hear, huh? Is that sinking in you son of a bitch?!" He was panting slightly now, wondering if they'd slap on the cuffs again. The thought made him go light-headed. Instead, the man harshly smiled and leant on the table.

"Glad you're cooperating." The man pulled out another photo from his file and slapped it onto the table. The photo was ripped up and in horrible shape, and was also difficult to make out. Jesse leaned slightly forwards and let his face fall into remorse and heartbreak. It was the same image of Andrea and Brock used to blackmail him, except there was a rip straight down the middle, separating the mother and son. "Do you know this woman? Andrea Cantillo and her son, Brock Cantillo. The woman in this photo was killed about 6 months ago. This photo was found inside a pit, presumably yours, at the hideout of the neo-nazi's." Jesse's lip started to quiver and his face grimaced as tears began to roll down his cheeks.

"Do you know her or not? The sooner the question is done the sooner it's over." The man irritatingly repeated, growing impatient. The other man in the room raised his eyebrows as if his partner was treating Jesse a bit too harshly and vile. Jesse however, began to cry in front of the two men, careless about showing vulnerability. Ralph cuffed Jesse's wrists just before the both of them stepped out of the room, figuring that Jesse wasn't going to say anymore.

"Girlfriend would be my guess." The harsh man predicted aloud as he closed the door to the interrogation room behind him.

"Don't you think you were a bit hard on him?" Marie stood from her seat beside the camera filming into the two-way mirror. Skyler sat diagonally behind her, weary-eyed and near emotionless.

"Thought you didn't have any sympathy for the kid?" Ralph readied himself to walk out of the room to get a coffee. "Plus, didn't he help the infamous 'Heisenberg'?"

"Well... yeah, but if you want answers..."

"Look, if you want to talk to the kid, Steve'll be happy to supervise. Meanwhile, I'm gonna get a coffee. Anyone want some?" No reply. "Right. I'm going to go contact anyone from his family where he could possibly stay for a bit before we get all the evidence and slap on the cuffs." He wryly grinned as he walked out.

Marie turned her head around to face Skyler, who was scratching the back of her neck and looking just as irritating as Marie. "Am I the only one with common sense here?" Marie let out for Steve to hear.

"Marie not now." Skylar massaged her temple to try to relieve stress, though it wasn't working.

"No- no, okay? I want answers to..." Marie paused, hesitating to say the name. "...Hank. I want answers to this entire thing." she held onto her knees, massaging them with her thumbs to let off steam. She finally stood up from her seat and barged into the interrogation room, where Jesse was hidden under his arms on the table, breathing as if whimpering were the only way to breathe.

"You want to know so bad?" Jesse exclaimed. "I tried to escape... and what do I get for that, huh?" His voiced cracked at this point. "She gets murdered... by that psychopathic son of a bitch... right in front of me... You..." He wasn't exactly crying much any more but his voice trailed off anyway. Marie stood by the shut door, staring as she had no idea how to comfort. She stunned herself of how spooked she was, looking at the familiar younger man. Jesse's vibe seemed... off. The last time they had met, he was merely just an extremely depressed character but now... he was just a shell of what used to be a living person. It nearly brought her to tears.

"I..." She started, unable to finish. All that came out of her mouth was a useless "I'm sorry." Jesse looked up from his position to stare at Marie. It made her hairs stick on end. Jesse looked right through her, eyes empty and dead of life.

"If it helps..." He croaked, barely letting out a whisper. "I wish I would've been shot in the head that day, like I supposed to be." He continued, no expression of his face anymore. Marie wiped away a stray tear and stared, speechless. He would have rather died, instead of Hank. A part of her wanted to go over and hug the broken man across the room, but figured not due to trauma issues. Where did he have to go? What if they hadn't found his family?

Marie backed out slowly, figuring that she had nothing to really say to comfort him. Nothing to really say except, 'Hey, I partially hate you and want you arrested but can you cheer up so we can get you behind bars?'. But... now she didn't think like that anymore, after all, he isn't actually 'the great Heisenberg', right? And... Christ, what he went through. She sympathised, and empathised with him as well, having a loved one of hers killed, and never being able to at least see his body for about six months.

Ralph stepped back in, coffee in one hand and file case under his armpit. He walked over to the camera and pressed an intercom button nearby the table it was placed on. "I've contacted your parents, Pinkman, you'll be in their custody until we bring you back for more questions." Marie stood nearby Steve, against the wall. Upset and most of all, worried, for the kid. As if she were a mother to a son she never had.

Jesse sat in the backseat of his parents' car, staring out of window. Last time he was in a car, it was speeding away from the neo-nazi hideout, before that, it was being held down as they killed a loved one. The car started to move and the sooner they got to his parents' house, the more Jesse thought about his fate by the end of all of this.

He hadn't seen his parents in at least a year or over, and every time he did, he would always bring disappointment. Firstly because he'd gotten way too high and ran off there to stay, and that happened an extra few times as well. Second, when they kicked him out of his own house as they discovered his lab in the basement. Third, when he bought the house back and did a few things so they couldn't do anything about it. And now, he'd killed a man, been taken into custody, and will eventually be taken to prison.

The car parked in the driveway of his parents' house. The door of the vehicle slid open, letting the sun shine a quarter way inside the car and onto Jesse's legs. His mother stood outside the car, giving a sad smile as tear tracks shone against her cheeks. She helped him out and he groaned as his body went in a position that triggered an aching pain against his bruises underneath. Jesse walked as if he were still chained to manacles; his feet too close together, as well as his wrists. His shoulders always seemed tensed. "Here, let's get you..." His mother paused, sniffling and holding in an urge to burst into tears. "...cleaned up..." She softly spoke, her gentle touch on her oldest son's shoulder, leading him towards the house. "Cut your hair maybe, feed you up..." Jesse decided not to reply, or as a matter of fact, talk at all. He'd made the mistake of speaking at Badger's. Whenever he spoke, he got involved, and whenever he got involved, someone always got hurt because of him. No more risks.

As soon as he got in, he dressed in more comfortable clothing since Badger's clothes were too big for him, he brushed his teeth after not doing so for six months, took another shower in the same day, and later allowed his Dad to cut his hair so that it was short and sticking out in every direction, like it had been about two years ago. By the time he was done, it was already evening and Mom was making dinner. Chicken stew with mashed potatoes and gravy. Jesse ate a bit, but it was useless anyway, considering that he threw it all up less than 20 minutes later. Not used to bigger sizes of meals yet, I guess.

Jake didn't bother talking to him, he felt as if it weren't really the time to talk. Plus, what exactly do you say to a brother that just came back from being tortured for six months? You can't necessarily complain about school, or friends- Hey, I know you've just been tormented for several months but my teacher was being really annoying today by giving us a shitload of work...- it just doesn't work.

Both Jesse's parents helped him into his old bedroom, which he had once spent a night in, two years ago. What did his parents think of him now? Not only have they discovered everything that happened, but the neo-nazi's kept his confession tape that the police probably later discovered that night. What if they were to see that? What would that make of him? It'll all be let out... and he'll more than disappoint this time.

Jesse flipped over in his bed, so that his chest faced the ceiling, only to see that his wrists were shackled together again, along with his feet and waist. Suddenly, all around him turned into the same pit he had spent six months in. He looked up to see the entire gang, bigger than usual, laughing at him, taunting him, whispering. He turned his head to the side to see Andrea, Brock, Jane, Gale... Walt, all dead but alive, yelling and crying at him for killing them, for hurting them. Mr. White telling him for what seemed like more than a thousand times that he had watched Jane die. And then he woke up screaming, followed later by sobbing and wailing non-stop for the rest of the night, his parents comforting and 'shushing' him through it all. His mother crying as she held him in her arms.

This went on for more than several nights. In fact, it never stopped.