After a few hours of quiet in the cell, there was a clattering near the heavy metal door that enclosed them. Jesse jumped a mile while gasping, and Walt was more unsettled by his reaction. The door suddenly burst open to Todd and Kenny, both armed with guns. Walt stilled himself and stared straight out the door. He took to memorizing what lay directly beyond the men.
"Get yer ass over here, I don't want no show 'cause your daddy is here." Kenny scowled. Jesse slipped off the bunk and onto the floor in front of the four men.
"Did he untie you?" Kenny said, almost tenderly. "He shouldn'a done that, but that's alright."
Walt was now focused on the guns in the mens' hands and he was again perplexed. If he moved or otherwise protested, would he be shot? Any shot from such a machine gun would kill him with certainty and he figured it was worth a try. Walt sprung up off the bunk and Todd quickly slapped the barrel of his machine gun hard across Walt's face and then pushed the butt of his hand hard into Walt's chest further knocking him back. Walt never seemed to remember he was much weaker now than he ever had been. He lay on the floor with blood pouring from his nose. In this time, Kenny had shuffled Jesse out of the room and Todd then stole out behind him. The steel door clamoured shut again.
After a moment his eyes cleared and he realized he could hear the commotion outside the cell. Still bleeding, he crawled to the door to listen more clearly. Something had to spring up that would allow him to get the upper hand with these men, even if only momentarily before the End of it all.
"Stay on your knees," he heard Kenny holler. "That's it." Laughter followed and then some voices meandered over one another. He distinctly heard Kenny exhale with a grunt.
The blood had slowed from his nose and so Walt wiped his hands absent-mindedly against his pants. He scanned the perimeter of the closed door for any gaps he could peer through. Surprisingly, there was a half inch gap between the door and the floor. Walt lumbered onto his side and stuck his head against the door, squinting with one eye into the gap. He found a view of the middle of the clubhouse where Jesse knelt before Kenny. Immediately, Walt pulled away smashing his eyes shut. He shuddered audibly at the vision searing through his eyelids. Jesse was blowing Kenny and there was no gun pointed at him. Walt lay paralysed for a moment and wondered what could have happened to conjure such a scene.
"This is…despicable," Walt whispered to himself. He felt a wave of nausea overtake him and he rolled over to vomit. Irony knocked at him and Walt even pitied himself. He had lost everyone that meant something to him and now he felt he was right back where this enterprise began: inexplicably tied to a waif too incompetent to extricate himself from a dangerous situation. In fact, Jesse always had a knack for turning up the danger in any situation. Walt may have allowed Jesse to be taken to this hellhole, but in Walt's mind only Jesse could inspire such a dramatic spiralling of events. Walt sat up exasperated but still sickened enough to slowly begin thumping his fist against the door. He did so with great effor, and tired after each blow.
"Hey…Hey!" He shouted. "Is this what you have been doing instead of killing him or cooking meth…?!"
A protective passion engulfed him. "Just, stop this. Stop this now!" He thumped his whole arm against the door pathetically and winced in pain as his elbow smacked against the cold metal.
Todd's voice came creeping from the other side of the door. "Hey, Mr. White. Just – uh, just be quiet for a minute please."
"This is absurd. I can't abide this!" Walt shrieked, his eyes looking to the ceiling before his lids drooped closed.
"Mr. White it's okay, you can have a turn if you want." Todd offered in earnest through the door.
"My god, no. Todd, no." Walt recoiled from the door and he heard Todd's footsteps slowly walk away. He then heard a familiar cry and Jesse's voice pleading, "Please, I can't…". Walt steadied himself and laid back to the ground securing his eye line. He saw Todd kneel down behind Jesse, pulling down his pants and shorts to expose his bare behind. If I had killed him just a moment ago when he asked, Walt thought, I wouldn't be witnessing this.
The encounter stretched on for what felt like hours and didn't stop until every man in that clubhouse who wanted to take something from Jesse had done so. Walt now understood what Jesse had tried to tell him earlier. Walt had long shut his eyes but it couldn't drown out the sounds. He shook his head back and forth and felt tears sting his eyes. For a moment he wasn't sure who he felt worse for: Jesse or himself.
The door bolted open and struck Walt squarely in the back of the head. He shouted in pain and dragged himself away from the door. Todd and Kenny pushed Jesse back inside the cell and quickly shut the door. Jesse stayed crumpled in a pile a few feet from Walt with his head buried in his arms.
Walt slowly looked over to him out of the corner of his eyes. He took a deep breath and expelled it with a broken sigh. There he was, trapped in this tiny space with him, that imperfection in the great Heisenberg's empire, that treacherous blight he'd oft regarded as a son. And, now, what of Walt's fate? There would be no heroic catastrophe born of his hands. Would his last actions of meaning on this earthly plane be a war of words with this scourge? Walt had difficulty accepting this thought. Jesse had no fight left in him and the scale of the situation went beyond forgiveness or understanding. They were two men, one seething with hatred and the other hollowed by despair, laying at death's door awaiting only an invitation.