Walt sat down directly across from Jesse on the bunk opposite. As he sat down, his knees bumped those of Jesse, who let out an aggravated groan. Walt leaned into him as he began to speak and Jesse threw himself backward immediately.

"Listen to me closely," Walt whispered. "Jack came in here while you were gone and he wants me to cook. Todd apparently wants one last session with me, and then after that I'm dead. We're…dead."

Jesse's face was scrunched and he looked at Walt through squinting eyes. "I don't care. The sooner this is all over, the better. Why're you being a grade A dick?"

"I'm not Jesse…I'm-"

"Yeah y'are."

"I've made an arrangement and I'm going to need you to play along."

"I'm about done going along with anything you have to say." Jesse raised up his legs and laid back on the bunk with a sigh, closing his eyes.

"No, no, Jesse, stay with me on this. Please. If I can get out into the lab here on the compound I can surely find a way to get us out of here."

"I was just in the lab and I think you're going to find it difficult to be all 'master of science' in there when you're chained to the ceiling."

Walt was taken aback for a moment. He blinked rapidly and his stomach knotted. He said quietly, "Is that…how you have been cooking for them?"

"It's not really a chain. It's kinda a metal cable type thing. It used to be bad when I had like, cuffs on my wrists and ankles and chains in between and then the cable thing…but the last while it's just been the cable in there." Jesse had laid down and bent an arm over his eyes.

"Manacles. The cuffs and chains are called manacles." Walt couldn't help himself, the words just slipped out.

"I never needed to know that, thanks…"

"Just okay, let's leave that to one side for now." Walt exhaled deeply and rubbed his forehead. "I need you with me on this. I know that your motivation for getting out of here is low at the moment, to say the least. You need to focus on something to get you through this. Think of…Andrea. I know it must be difficult with what you've been subject to, but she's out there and eventually maybe you can speak to her again." Walt was grasping at straws, but he thought if he could just redirect Jesse's thoughts, he could get him back on his side and it would reduce the blow of the arrangement.

Jesse dropped his arm and turned his face toward Walt's. His eyes were steely and his face pale. He stared at Walt for a long time without speaking. Walt stared back but began to feel uncomfortable and shifted himself on the bunk. After another minute he nervously balked, "Jesse, what?"

"Andrea's been dead for…a while now. I watched Todd shoot her in the head." Jesse said it plainly, staring back into Walt's eyes as his own slowly welled.

Walt choked on his breath for a moment breaking his gaze. He looked down and then around the room searching his mind for mollifying words. He couldn't find any, and so he stayed quiet.

"That's it, look away. Maybe now you can understand for a split second that I can't ever survive this. This has to be it. I'm here in practically a prison cell with you. You. The only time I tried to get out of here…when I tried to leave, they killed one of the few people I had left to live for. They made me watch."

Walt could see the rage bubbling up in Jesse that mixed like oil in water with the fiercest sorrow. Jesse wiped a tear away as he turned away from Walt and buried himself as far into the bunk as he could. Walt simply nodded to himself as he decided to drop his campaign for now.

After two hours of silence, Jesse hadn't slept. He had spent each minute with his eyes forward staying at the white cement wall. He became flushed and sticky with perspiration. He turned around on the bed and the words flew out of his mouth. "In the desert…in like, the last moment you thought you'd ever see me, you told me you saw Jane die - that you let her die."

A chill moved through Walt. Sweat appeared on his palms and he began wringing his hands. This confrontation was an eventuality that had not occurred to him, like much of this macabre two-man play he found himself in. He was transported back to To'hajillee in his mind: the scorching sun and the smell of blood, the sand whipping at his face and the vile malice that overtook him after Hank was killed. Jesse's treachery was unforgivable and had led to Hank's death, and so he had never considered remorse for his words that day. He wasn't about to start now, either, but this was a conversation Walt never expected to have and he was ill prepared for it, for he had made peace with the assumption that Jesse was more than likely dead when he was in New Hampshire. Looking across at Jesse, who was wiping his eyes with his sleeve, Walt started to speak in a low voice. "Everything I said that day in the desert was true. I was there."

"Why were you there?" Jesse asked.

"I had a drink with someone that night…by chance. This person reminded me not to give up on family."

"But didn't you somehow drink with Jane's dad that night?"

"I did, it was he who told me not to give up on family." Walt looked to the barred window at the light that was diminishing. A few amber rays were cascading around the rusty bars.

"I don't understand."

"Jesse," Walt breathed out with exasperation. "You never understood how I felt about you, ever. I can't think of a single moment when we were on the same page in this partnership. I came back to try and talk some sense into you. And then, that happened."

"You let it happen."

"I did, I let it happen. But you lived…you weren't the one OD'ing."

Jesse took pause for a moment, but Walt could see the pain burning inside him. "Since she died it's felt like there was a hole in my heart. Like, big and gaping and if you ripped open my chest you could see it, that's what it still feels like." Tears flowed and he sobbed a few times. "If you never came that night, and instead I spent the next two weeks speedballing 'till I OD'd, that would have been a much happier fucking life than the one I got instead…with you."

Walt was struck by the truth in that statement. He would never have guessed at that time it could be true, that there could have been a fate worse than a life quickly lived in oblivion. Walt looked upon Jesse; he couldn't fathom what caused all that he now saw in the young man's face. There was one deep scar on his right cheek in particular that he surmised would never fade nor recede. His face had matured gravely and he now looked past his true age. Feelings of regret and loathing scraped at his insides as he stared at Jesse looking so wretched on the bunk.

"You were like a son to me; I couldn't let you be destroyed by something so senseless as heroin." The words were honest and raw, which Walt was unaccustomed to and so he teared up momentarily.

"Is that what you would do for your son? For mini-Walt – kill whatever he loves until he's only go you left?"

"That's not what I was doing!" Walt let out, trying not to yell. Aggravation began to pulsate inside him and he could no longer sit. He stood up awkwardly, bumbling to his feet. He walked over to the barred window and stood for a moment, inhaling and exhaling. He then grabbed a bar in each hand and began to tug violently at them as if he could rip the bars out of the window like some sort of Hulk. Instead, he looked and felt impotent. Jesse glimpsed his outburst from the corners of his eyes and quickly looked away. Walt would be an angry, embittered man to the very end despite his best efforts to find some semblance of peace. After nearly a minute of shaking the two bars in vain, he let out a moan of frustration, laying his head against the cement wall.

"Sit down…Walt," Jesse said in an eerie tone that disturbed instantly. "Let's stop dragging the past around. We'll be dead soon. It won't matter then. Well, unless you believe in a God who will judge you. Then you must be shittin' it."

"Shut up, Jesse." Walt wasn't amused and he stood at the end of Jesse's bunk leaning on the metal support beam, panting with his eyes closed. The weight of guilt was bearing down on this chest, constricting and contorting it.

"I accept my fate, is all. And I know I've paid for every bad thing I've done…you haven't." Jesse said, still in an eerie, unfamiliar tone.

"Just stop talking."

"What, is your guilt like, overwhelming or something? Is it crushing you?"

"You little fool! Do not even pretend to know what I'm thinking or feeling. You couldn't possibly understand why I've done what I've done." Walt was crumbling from guilt, but he would never let Jesse know he was right. "You don't even know what I've done for you. I've made a deal to keep those barbarians off of you until we're out of here. I did it to save you from that, even if it's only for a short time. You never believe me when I tell you I'm trying to protect you, instead you make it impossible for me to do so," Walt stammered out, nearly breathless.

Laying very still, Jesse kept his eyes nearly closed. "Why would you do that?"

"Why would I do that? My god, why wouldn't I? What do you think of me? Well, don't-"

"The worst things you could think of a person." His tone was flat.

Walt steadied himself. "I deserve that. Okay, but I have brokered a deal of sorts that should just improve things for you here for this next phase."

"What did you have to do?" Jesse asked.

"Nothing, exactly. Well, I asked Jack for you in return for the cook," Walt said, clearing his throat. His breathing had settled and he was beginning to focus on the task at hand once again.

"What does that mean? Like, keep me safe and you'll do the cook?"

"Not…exactly. I said that I wanted you as my own personal prisoner, more or less, in exchange for cooking with Todd once again. And no more interference from the others." Walt held his head in his hand as he braced for the inevitable impact.

"Yo, what! Why would he agree to that?" Jesse nearly yelled.

Sighing, Walt replied, "I told him I was a dying man with…needs. He felt a bit sorry for me I think." A moment passed and Walt went from staring at the ceiling to glancing in Jesse's direction only to find his eyes wide and his mouth agape.

"Oh my God, after all this time, you are actually a pervert. Did all of that watching me get stuffed turn you on or something? That's messed up."

Walt threw his hands up. "No, for Godsakes, no! We're not- that's not…you're not actually going to be a prisoner, my prisoner." He ended in a whisper. "I just need you to play the part when required."

"That's still seriously dark and messed up."

"No, you're looking at it the wrong way. This is better than the alternative."

"Is it? I'm not touching you."

"I'm not going to make you touch me! My god, that…shouldn't have to happen in any way, shape or form."

"Shouldn't? Shouldn't? Jesus fucking Christ…" Jesse rolled onto his side, away from Walt.

"Shh, shh, quiet. Just keep it down. If anyone bursts in while you're on the bunk, just curl into the corner and try to look more pathetic than you already do, if that's possible. We'll work out the rest later."

"Dick."

Walt shook his head emphatically and laid down on his own bunk.

After a time, the sound of the door opening slowly overtook a heavy silence in the room. Walt whispered in Jesse's direction, and so he dutifully made himself small in the corner of his bunk. He buried his head as deep under himself as he could. Todd was quieter than usual and appeared to be on his own. He had two large water bottles in his hands.

"Uh, Mr. White? I'm just dropping off some water. The guys forgot to put it in before."

Stepping to his feet but keeping a distance, Walt returned, "Thank you, Todd, that is thoughtful." He smiled a fake smile of pleasantries that resembled a grimace.

Todd returned the smile in earnest. "Thanks for agreeing to do one more cook with me. I know it's not ideal here, but I could still learn so much from you."

"I think it was a fair trade." Walt said, curious to bring up the arrangement. He looked at Todd, whose eyes remained as blank as ever.

"Jesse did a real good job cleaning the lab today. You should go easy on him tonight Mr. White."

Surprised at the compliment from Todd, but also the context around what Jesse had been doing that afternoon, Walt looked over to him. He was still in character, remaining in a crumpled heap in the furthest corner of his bunk. "I will be sure to keep that in mind."

"The other guys, they said they'd stay away. At least 'till after the cook." Todd said in his monotonous, innocent tone.

"Good, uh…that's good.' Walt cleared his throat. "When did you envisage our cook to take place?" Walt asked, a slight nervousness appearing in his words.

"Don't worry Mr. White, it's not going to be now. You still have some time. You know, Kenny said to tell you Jesse really likes it if you use two-"

"Stop! Right, that's – that's quite alright." He forced a laugh out and another grimaced smile onto his face. His voice got low and the words swam around in his mouth, like vomit waiting to be spewed. "I know exactly what he likes."

"Alright Mr. White. Night." And Todd quietly left the room and the deadbolt once again clicked into place.

Walt groaned in disgust, raising his arms into the air in a form of desperation. Jesse unfurled from the corner and was not amused. "You are completely disgusting."

"I'm not. I didn't…It was him. I had to sound believable, even to that ventriloquist's dummy." He sat down and drank in some of the fresh water Todd had left. "Are you not the tiniest bit grateful for what I've saved you from here?" He asked, annoyed at Jesse's insults.

"Yeah, I'm like so grateful. So grateful until I have to fucking eat your cock to make it believable!"

"You are such a child. Don't be so revolting! Christ!" Walt nearly yelled, waiving both is hand in the air.

"Calm down…Walt. You're gonna bust a nut just thinking about it." Jesse said slyly, with the hint of smirk appearing on his face.

"You're just-" Walt began, but stopped himself when he saw the amusement in Jesse's face. Seeing Jesse joking with him was a relief.

Jesse then sat up with a clearer look in his eyes than before. "I guess I can tell you now that I lifted something when I was cleaning in the lab."

Walt moved in to Jesse's space immediately. "What is it?"

"This long thing – what is it?"

"It's nichrome wire. You mean to say you took this from the lab and have kept it quiet this entire time?" Walt couldn't believe the idiocy still residing in Jesse.

"Yeah, well we've been a bit busy arguing about shit and play-acting like I'm your sex slave for it to come up." Jesse returned. Walt continued to examine the wire and his mind started to churn over possibilities.

"Why, if you had access to this, did you not take it before, or other more useful things, and try to escape?" Walt asked inquisitively.

Jesse looked down as he answered. "After…Andrea, they said Brock was next. That's when I decided not to try again."

A silence engulfed the room as Walt grasped a sliver of the depth of Jesse's sorrow. He now understood Jesse had given up hope for a free life in order to save one last innocent: the life of child. He must have been living as a mere shell of a man for however many months it had been since Andrea died, living on autopilot to ensure a safe, long life for the boy, and living merely to die; death was the last outpost of his hope. Shaking the thoughts from his head, Walt returned to the metal he held in his hand. "Nichrome is a non-magnetic alloy of nickel and chrome. If we can unravel this instrument, we should be able to use it to pick the deadbolt on the door."

The men were now seated side by side on Walt's bunk peering at the nichrome as Walt began to unravel it. Jesse started, "Pick a deadbolt? Aren't they supposed to be super safe from break-ins?"

"Deadbolts are meant to weather the weight of an intruder's attempt to break a door in from the outside through sheer force. The deadbolt lock itself, at least a regular, run-of-the-mill deadbolt, can be picked just as easily as a regular lock." Walt had nearly finished unravelling the wire.

"Okay…and then what? What if we get the door open?" Jesse asked, and Walt sensed the smallest bit of excitement in his voice.

"We need to pick our moment, Jesse. If we rush out there now, we'll be shot in a matter of seconds. A thorough plan will be key to our survival. Are you familiar with the layout of this compound to any degree?"

"Yeah, I mean I know what's out beyond the door. There's, uh, a few bedrooms down to the left and a shower room, kind of like a locker room."

"What else, Jesse. Come on, it could be any minute detail that saves us."

"I don't know - those are the only places they've taken me in here…" He trailed off for a moment, putting his head in his hands. Walt looked down at him and very faintly patted him on the back, saying "It's okay, son." Jesse stiffened at his touch, and jammed his eyes shut. Surprised, Walt sat still as he looked into Jesse's face.

Jesse's mind shifted him to the last bedroom on the left in the hallway. There was years of cigarette smoke bleeding from the walls, making the room's smell acrid and stifling. The only light in the room came from a door ajar and an old digital radio blinking zeros in red. His head was buried so firmly into a pillow he struggled to breathe through his nose. He lifted himself up for a moment to draw in a deep breath, and was instantly pushed back down. A voice threatened, "This man's paid for the works now, ya hear? Don't you be stingy on him." Suddenly, the door slammed shut and he was engulfed in pitch black. Jesse's breath hitched and his chest tightened, panic shooting up through the soles of his feet.

"No…" Jesse muttered audibly.

Walt spoke with the calmest tone he could muster; he was imagining Jesse to be reliving one of countless horrors festering in his mind. "Jesse, I think you're having a flashback. Open your eyes and look in front of you. Tell me what you see."

"It's…black, everywhere is black. I can't see."

"Open your eyes and come back into the room here with me. I'm beside you and the lights are on. Tell me what you see. Look around."

Jesse sat deadly still with his eyes sewn shut. "Don't touch me," he murmured.

"Take a deep breath in…and then let it out. Open your eyes. Tell me what you see around you."

"Please don't make me do this," Jesse quietly spoke, visibly shaking.

Walt faltered for a moment as tears pooled in his eyes. The torment on Jesse's face burned his insides. He couldn't stand to watch and felt shame at wishing himself out of this situation. Fleetingly he thought that this must be his own purgatory. He tried to concentrate on bringing Jesse back into the present, but he could no longer bear to look at him. He kept his head bowed as he spoke. "Open your eyes Jesse, please, open them for me. Tell me what you see."

Through sobs, Jesse spoke as his eyes began to open, "There's uh…there's a bed, a bunk."

"Okay good, what colour is the blanket?"

"It's…it's uh, brown I guess." He sniffled and wiped his arm under his nose.

"Great and tell me, what is in the corner to the right of the bed? Tell me what it is and what it looks like."

"There's a…uh, a shitter made of silver there with a super small sink on top of it."

Quietly and reassuringly, Walt returned, "It's stainless steel, not silver. A silver toilet would oxidise and need constant polishing."

"Whatever, you know what I meant." Jesse was still sniffling and wiping away tears, but he had a hint of lightness return.

"Okay let's just stay in the room. What are you sitting on and who's sitting next to you?"

"I'm on a rock hard mattress on bunk bed thing and you're next to me." Jesse forced the words out in a lacrimose tone. In the next moment, he closed his eyes again and knelt forward, and to Walt it appeared as if he was in pain. He then made the most guttural, pained moan and slipped onto the floor on knees, holding himself up by one hand. With that, Walt no longer knew how to manage the situation. His previous experience of post-traumatic stress disorder had been in college, and was rather text-book in comparison to what was before him. Jesse's suffering was raw and unbridled as it unraveled before him and Walt felt disarmed. On the floor, Jesse began to dry heave. He was trembling and his nose running. He wiped under his nose again with his sleeve. Eventually, Jesse sat down on the floor and his breathing began to slow.

Something hit Walt like a bolt, and he stood up and stalked to the metal door. He began feverishly banging on the door with a curled fist. "Hey!" He yelled in the deepest Heisenbergian tone, "Open this door…now!"