(A/n: apologizing in advance for any spelling errors or inconsistencies here.. I knew I wasn't going to get around to writing this unless I stopped thinking about it and just did it, so this is kind of a mind-dump. This chapter ended up way too mish-mash, if you get bored maybe just skip through the middle-stuff or something,)

Today was not going to be an easy day. That was the first thought Walter had, when he awoke lying face-down on the couch, the place were Skyler had banished him to, after he arrived home late last night and 'had the whole family frantic! Leaving without so much as an explanation!'.

He'd tuned out most of Skyler's rant, he couldn't take her seriously like this, anyway; She was twenty eight years old. A kid, really, still so young. Walt found it almost laughable how she had been chastising him like he was a naughty child.

Walter rolled of the sofa, planted his feet on the ground and forcing himself up. He felt achy all over, thanks to his fight with Jesse, he walked into the kitchen just in time to see Skyler about to leave her hand clamped tightly around Junior's, ready to take him to school.

"Are you not going to work?" Skyler asked, she intended for her voice to come of as annoyed and aloof, but really she just sounded anxious. She was anxious.

"I- I still feel ill. Going to take a sick day, it's not like I've ever really taken days of before." Walter said, making himself a cup of coffee. Skyler wished he'd look at her when he was speaking.

"D-Daddy, what ha-happened to your face?" Junior asked, not sensing the tension between his parents at all. "W-where you in a fight?"

Walter forced a laugh. "Who do you think I am? Rocky? No. Dad's just clumsy, he fell down a flight of stone steps!"

Junior laughed along with Walt, while Skyler fixed her husband a skeptical glare. She could tell he was lying, and was convinced Walter had been beaten up or mugged and was just to proud to admit it. Walter knew with certainty he'd be in for an earful later. He didn't want to deal with it, he wasn't in the mood to deal with people's shit.

"Okay well, we have to go now, junior, or we'll be late. Say bye to Daddy!" Skyler chirped, trying to act as if nothing was wrong.

"B-bye Dad hope your fe-feeling better soon!" Junior said, as he was hurried out the room by his mother. Walter smiled at them over his cup of coffee, and said his goodbye. A moment later he heard the door click. They were gone, he was alone. Now what?

Walter moved swiftly around the house, planning out his day one action at a time. First he'd finish his cup of coffee, go upstairs to grab his spare pair of glasses, then come back down and begin to cook breakfast. The first chemical reaction of the day.

It was only when he was half-way through his plate of sausages that he felt calm enough to start planning. First thing he needed to do was shop. Get the right reactants at least for a pseudo cook. He could get Skyler something while he was out too, maybe a box of chocolates to show how very, very sorry he was for coming home late, that should pacify his wife a little.

After that Walter'd go to his new RV parked inconspicuously on a caravan park, then he could drive out to the New Mexican desert and start cooking a batch of pure meth, the first little piece of his new empire.
"It'll be simple." Walter thought to himself 'Even if this all goes to shit, this is probably just a dream, anyway'.

"What's that on your neck?" Badger asked, leaning forward to inspect Jesse closer.

"Nothing!- " Jesse replied a little too quickly, shifting quickly out the way. Him and the other boy were sat opposite each other on the little kitchen table, eating breakfast togther. Jesse had forgotten that this was a thing that used to happen.

"Are they hickeys? Or bruises?" He asked, with a mouthful of toast "Have you been like in a fight- or- or with a girl!"
He said the word 'girl' with such reverence, like they were a different species or something.

"I probably just slept on it funny or somethin'." Jesse said, with a mouthful of cornflakes. He cursed Mr White for taking it too far once again. He just hoped that Walter had bruises ten times as bad, he wondered if the guy would show up for school today, and they'd have to pretend to be teacher and student again and act like last night hadn't happened. He'd have to do that with Mrs Grey, too, but for very different reasons.

"Slept on it funny? Yo if your gonna bullshit me, at least don't make it too obvious, man." Badger huffed, "but seriously dude, tell me. We're like- best buds in the whole wide world yo, best buds don't keep secrets."

"Dude, what are you, gay?" Jesse said, actually laughing. "And I told you, I musta just slept on it funny. Stuff like this happens all the time, it's like, basic biology."
B

adger, gullible as ever looked like he was starting to believe him. "Whatever, man, lets just go to school. My parents will kill me if I bunk of again. I'm not even joking."

-
It was almost noon, and Walter was sweltering. The RV had no air-con, under the unforgiving glare of the new Mexico sun, the place was like a heat-trap. But the Chemist was more focused on his work in front of him, the bubbling test tubes that would soon become pure methamphetamine (Or grade-A glass, as Jesse would say.) .
Walter had managed to go into the school undetected, grab some equipment and drive of into the desert to cook. It had all been so easy, so smooth. He watched his little experiment carefully, making sure everything was perfect. It was just second nature to him now, a chemists instinct.

Jesse had been in a lot of awkward situations in his life, but this might just be the worst. Or second worse maybe, that dinner with Mr White and his wife had been pretty brutal.
Mrs Grey stood at the front of the class, giving an emotional analysis on Streetcar named desire. Both of them kept catching each other's gaze then looking away. Jesse hadn't just spent a night of lust with the woman, but she'd also walked in on him and Mr White fighting. He wasn't sure of how much of the argument she'd actually heard (he was trying to keep it quiet) but either way she looked pretty fucking unconvinced when he told her it was over grades and he'd started it. Why he was still trying to defend Mr White he did not know.

"- and so, the character of Mitch can be seen as a foil to Stanley. Mitch is timid, and nervous, while Stanly is a Brute! And Alpha male-type!- "

Jesse tuned out her lecture, he couldn't listen if he tried it was just so.. Boring. Was he really going to waste his time going through high school again? He had been thinking about working hard and not screwing up this time, but then what? Spend years working his ass of just to get some crappy office job like his Dad? The thought repulsed him more than a life of crime did, he didn't want a normal job. So what was he even doing here in school?
His thoughts were interrupted by the bell ringing.

"Yo, You coming- ?" Paul asked, stuffing his tattered english books hastily into his nike bag like he couldn't stand to be in that classroom another second. Jesse looked up at him.

"Lunch? Come on man, or'd you rather stay here for some extra class?"

Jesse laughed and rolled his eyes like he was suppose to. "Yeah because this lessons so freakin' fascinating."

"Hey, maybe extra tutoring with Grey mightn't be so bad.." Paul said, his eyes shifting side to side to check nobody was listening. He leaned in closer to Jesse, a mischievous smirk on his face. "- Jonathan Derringer told me she sucked him of. For real, yo."

"And you believed that bull? Johnny Derringer's full of shit." Jesse scoffed as Mrs Grey walked past them and out the room, her perfectly manicured fingers trailing on his desk for a fraction of a second.

Walter stared at the product before him, the very first piece of his new empire. Crystal Meth, pure as ever. It wasn't his signature blue, but it was clear as can be, almost see-through, Jesse's voice runs through his head 'This is grade-A glass, Mr White. Your a goddamn artist.'

He tried to banish thoughts of Jesse, for now.

The boy was an ungrateful brat wasting his potential, but once he got over his sudden attack of morality, and realized what he was missing out on, he'd come around. It was like the Jane and Gale incidents all over again; Jesse'd fall to pieces for a little while, but the kid was surprisingly resilient, eventually he'd put himself together, come to terms with what'd happened.

Walter took deep gulps of the lucosaide he'd brought, taking his time rehydrating, replenishing minerals, replacing electrolytes. His eyes wandered again back to his pile of meth, the foundations of his new empire (it felt strangely lonely when nobody knew about it.). Now what? What was he going to do with it?
Without Jesse as his link to the criminal underworld, he was lost. Walter didn't know who the local kingpin was, or other dealers. Heck! He didn't even know anyone who took meth!
Walter felt a surge of frustration run through him at the futility of it all. Goddamn it!

'I've made the purest meth going, kept a drug dealer captive in a basement and chocked him to death, escaped imprisonment by a crazed meth addicted kingpin, ran a super-lab, mowed down a couple of gang-bangers with an aztec, poisoned a child, shot three people and blew up the biggest drug lord this side of the border using a wheelchair bomb, and burned said super-lab to the ground. I've ran my own meth operation in people's houses, destroyed police evidence using goddamn magnets and pulled of the biggest train robbery ever without anyone even noticing. I can sell a pound of meth myself, ABQ's full of meth-heads. How hard can it be?

"So, are you going to Lexi's party this saturday, Jesse?" Beatrice asked, leaning against him slightly, sending grey cigarette smoke from her cherry-red lips floating in his direction.

"I don't know, maybe." Jesse said, he found this whole situation kind of ironic; All through high school Jesse had saw Beatrice as this sexy stoner chick who was basically the coolest girl on the planet. She was like, the girl all the bad guys wanted, and him and his friends used to compete constantly for her attention. The girl probably got at least a grands worth of free ched and drinks of him and his mates throughout highschool. Jesse remembered the one time they kissed in senior year as being his crowning achievement for a while. But now, he was different, he knew better than to treat girls like some sort of trophy, and pander for their attention like a obsessive little puppy dog. So he just treated her like any regular person, and suddenly she was interested.

"It wont be the same without you, I'd love for you to come." She said, looking at him through her lashes in a way that was probably suppose to be seductive, but to Jesse she just looked like a kid now. Not sexy at all.

"Hey, I'll see what I can do." Jesse said, as he took a drag from his cigarette.

"I'll come to the party." Badger piped up, eager to get her attention. All he got was an eye roll.

"Great." She said, "You gonna Puke again like you did at Kevin's?"
The others laughed, and Badger joined in with them to show that he definitely didn't mind some banter. He was okay, he was cool with it.

Jesse cast a long look around the group; Paul, Badger, Justin, Beatrice and Skeg. The stoner crew who hung around the back of the school smoking like they were the most bad-ass kids on the planet.

All of them normal kids, from middle class homes who were trying desperately to be gangsta. Beatrice was speaking again, but Jesse wasn't listening. He felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over him, a tight knot sat in his stomach, making him feel uneasy. Nothing had changed, he still couldn't focus in class and he still hung around the back of the school smoking, and he had no idea how to change either of them. Mr White was right, he was a junkie, loser, idiot, dropout.

"Here." Walter said, handing Skyler a box of chocolates on her arrival home. "For my beautiful wife."

She took the box, and eyed it with an amused sort of suspicion. "Your after something."

"You got me." Walter chuckled. "I'm after your forgiveness." Then he let his playful expression turn more serious. "But really though, Skyler, I don't know what's come over me lately. I'm sorry I acted like a.. Jerk- for lack of a better term. I think the stress just got to me, that's not an excuse but-"

Walter didn't have to say anymore, because Skyler leaned forward into his chest, hugging him. "It's alright, I forgive you for being a jerk." She said, then laughed into his shirt at how childish she sounded.

Walt wrapped his arms around her, breathed in the familiar smell of her hair, and smirked. If only he was this adept at lying when he first started meth-cooking he'd still have the loving wife in his arms, rather than the cold, detached creature she'd become in 2010.

"Thank you." Walter said, running her hand through her blonde hair, longer than he recalled it ever being. She pulled away from him.

"So, I take it you feel well enough to go to work tomorrow?"

"I feel much better, thanks." Walter said, reluctantly releasing her. He hadn't realised how much he missed having a wife who wasn't afraid of him. "I think it must of been the stress making me feel rundown, you know? When your under stress, the body's response hormones cause a decrease in the number of T-Cells, which weakens the immune system."

Skyler laughed again. "Nerd." She teased, playfully. Then stopped suddenly. "And what happened to your face? Tell me the truth, no 'falling down the stairs' bullshit."

Walt sighed, and tried to look sheepish. "I saw an argument between these two blokes. Drunk I suspect. It was stupid of me, but I tried to jump in- one of them had his son with him, a little boy, he was crying his eyes out. It was for his sake, really. I know I should of called the police. I didn't tell you at first because, well, I was least I technically stopped the fight."

"Walter! You could of got really hurt. This family couldn't deal with it if you did- " Skyler said, fixing him an exasperated look. "I know your heart's in the right place, but your head- think a little, Walt."

"I know, I know." He replied, putting up both his hands in a surrendering gesture. But inside he was seething. He hated being spoke to like was incompetent! He felt an odd thrill of satisfaction knowing he was planning to do something very dangerous tonight.

"So, how was the trip?" Jesse asked, before taking a bite of his Microwave lasagne. God this stuff tasted shittier than he remembered..

Aunt Jenny gave him a long, withering look that told him all he needed to know.

"That bad?" Jesse said, attacking the crusty cheese of the microwave meal with his fork. His Aunt nodded.

"It was suppose to be fun. Me, Stella and Eunice having a little overnight get together. Of course, Eunice started an argument and Stella took her side." She paused to give an exasperated sigh for effect. "I don't know why I bother. The thing about people, sunshine, is most of them aren't worth the effort."

"Preach it." Jesse said, letting out a low chuckle. Aunt Jenny was always constantly arguing with everyone, because most people couldn't handle the way she brazenly spoke her mind. 'The problem with that woman is, she has no filter' he remembered his father saying once.

"Hm, the less said about those two the better, the pair of old numptys." Aunt Jenny said with a huff. "And what about you, what did you get up to while your old Aunt was out of town?"

The kid shrugged "not much,"

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and before his aunt could even ask him to, Jesse walked over to open it.
It was Badger, he stood there wringing his hands, his eyes darting around nervously.

"Yo. What's up?" Jesse asked, after a moments hesitation, he leaned lazily on the door frame, crossing his arms.

"You wanna come to the skate park with me?" He asked, his voice high, and nervous.

"Nah man, I'm kinda tired an I got a shit-ton of work to do- "

Badger grabbed his wrist weakly, and his palm felt clammy. He looked at Jesse with scared, paranoid, stoner eyes. "No, really, yo. Come to the skatepark with me." He sounded desperate. Before Jesse could open his mouth to protest, Badger continued. "It's the Nando brothers and their crew they wanna.. Talk.. To you about some money. An they said if you don't go there they'll come here, man, and that didn't seem like such a great idea with your Aunt being- you know. And just imagine if your Mom found out.. Imagine your DAD, I wouldn't-"

"Alright, alright yo. I get it. I'm coming." Jesse said, feigning annoyance, but inside he felt a twist of dread as old, long buried memories of impossible debts, and loan-shark punishments bubbled to the surface.

Walter felt as if everyone was looking at him with icy, accusing glares. 'You don't belong here.' His beige jumper and wire glasses might of made him seem inconspicuous in his suburban home but here in down town ABQ, he stuck out like a sore thumb. He'd been approached by three people already asking if he was lost. He was lost. He had no idea how to sell the pound of meth stowed away in his backpack, it felt heavier and heavier with every step he took. No. He had to have confidence and just do this.

He scanned a street, bathed in artificial neon lights and in the end decided to try the group of youths hanging outside a seedy bar. They seemed like a safe bet. Safer, at least than the older, tougher looking men.

"Got no ID?" Walter asked, approaching the youths. There were four of them, all smoking, all dressed in a way that reminded Walt of Jesse.

"Whats it to you old man?" One of them asked, more amused than annoyed. He had long matted hair that looked like it hadn't been washed in months.

"Excuse me for being presumptuous. You seem like the type who might be able to give me some information on who runs the... illegal substance market here, so to speak." Walter said, in a calm authoritative voice, like when he was back speaking with Declan in the desert.
The gang looked at him blankly.

"Yo- um what the hell you chattin' about, man?" The one who's face was plagued with acne asked. Walt resisted the urge to sigh- eloquence and subtly defiantly wasn't the right way to speak with underage delinquents.

"Let me put this in terms you'll understand." Walter said, keeping his voice even. "Who's trafficking the drugs around here? Who's the most powerful drug lord in this area that you know?"
The gang laughed nervously.

"What are you, a cop?" Pimple-face said.

"Do you really want to try my patience if I am?"

"You don't look like a cop you- you old creep."
"Can you give me the information I need, or am I wasting my time?" Walter said, tensely.

"It's Diego Salamanca man, and his crew." Piped up a boy who looked a couple of years younger than the others. He was clearly trying to impress his mates with his street knowledge. "But good feckin' luck tryna get to see that dude. He's like- exclusive. You can't just walk up to him."

Walter felt an odd rush of nostalgia and terror. This whole thing reminded him of Tuco- and what a mess that had turned out to be.

"Where can I find him? Do you have any idea where he'll be?" Walter asked.

"Why? You're crazy man." The kid said, laughing. Walt just carried on looking at him, his expression deadly serious. "Wow. Well, okay then- his crib is on saragossa street. Its the big one, with a bunch of mean lookin' dudes outside."

"Right. Thanks for your time." Walter said, turning away, ignoring the boys warning for 'an old stiff like him to stay away from there. He felt a familiar rush of freedom, he wasn't being stifled by his job or his family and he had a purpose.

"So, you tryna rip us of?" Dominic Nando said, his face inches from Jesse's.

"No. The money I borrowed of you wasn't even for me- aright? It was for a friend!" Jesse snarled, glaring up at Dominic Nando. He and his brother Amir were small time gangsters, they were in their twenties but liked to prey on high schoolers to sell to and borrow to; Kids didn't have the power to fight against them, and they usually would do anything to make sure their parents wouldn't find out about their illegal activities. Jesse knew first hand.

"Well I didn't borrow it to your friend. I borrowed it to you. And I want it back- with interest!" Dom yelled. Jesse had originally borrowed the money for his friend Gary Lester, who wanted to buy a load of Ecstasy pills in bulk. 'We'll sell 'em of at three times their original price. We'll be rich!' It might've worked too, if Gary hadn't got himself arrested, leaving Jesse to deal with the debt.

"Listen, man, I'll pay it back I swear. My word is my bond." Jesse said, a feeling of dread creeping up his spine. He really didn't want to be made a target for a gang again. The Nando brother's definitely didn't have the most powerful gang, but they were great at scare tactics. They'd had Badger lead Jesse to an abandoned Skate park were they'd been waiting for him. From there Dominic and forced him to his knee's while Amir just watched.

"Whatever you say. KID. I don't care as long as I get my grand." Dominic said, grinning. Jesse could tell he enjoyed this whole 'pretend to be a badass gangster to terrify kids' routine.

"A grand!? Dude, I only borrowed- well like, nowhere near a grand!" Jesse protested. Dominic gave him a warning look, and pulled out a gun from the waistband of his baggy jeans.

"Its interest- ever heard of that, retard? So pay up, or else." Dominic said, waving the gun around. Jesse knew he wouldn't use it. He doubted Dominic even had bullets in it- but it still scared him. Being hit round the head with a gun was pretty freakin' painful. If there was one thing Tuco had taught him, it was that.

"Fine. I'll find a way to do it." Jesse said, looking down at the ground, scowling. He knew there was no was he could make that kind of money. He couldn't last time. The brothers and their gang had broke into his aunt's house and trashed it in retaliation. It was awful. They stole her jewellery that had belonged to her grandmother, and destroyed her furniture. But the worst had been smashing the urn were Aunt Ginny had kept the ashes of her only son, who had died in infancy. Jesse gritted his teeth. He was determined not to let that happen.

"Yeah. You better get me that money, kid, or I will tie you to a chair and set fire to it!" Dominic said, bluffing of course. He reached out and messed up Jesse's hair in a patronizing way. He leaned down, his face inches from Jesse's, his calloused hand gripped the back of the boy's head painfully, preventing him from flinching away. "Be a good boy. And we wont have to hurt you."

Jesse said nothing, just glared at the ground. Dominic turned to leave, heading back to the car. Amir strode forwards suddenly, without hesitation, and drew back his fist and punched Jesse in the stomach. Jesse gasped and slumped forwards, the wind knocked out of him. Amir said nothing. He just looked down at Jesse with emotionless coal black eyes, before heading back to the car himself. A moment later, Jesse heard the engine revving, and the squeal of tire against tarmac as the car drove away.
He stood up, just as Badger ran over (he'd been waiting obediently round the back of the ramp like he'd been told.)

"What did they want, dude?"

"For me to pay back the money, what do you think?" Jesse snapped, kicking the bench in frustration.

"And are you- gonna be able to do that?" Badger asked tentatively. Jesse shrugged, the scowl still on his face. He knew a way to get the money, and not have to be kicked around by a couple of wannabe-gangsters. But that would mean getting involved with the meth business again and with Mr White. But was that really such a bad thing?

"I'm here to see Diego." Walter said, his voice firm and never wavering. He'd long since learned that confidence is key if you ever want to be taken seriously.
The muscled man with the shaved head and a scorpion tattoo snaking around his bicep gave Walt a look of disdain. "Yeah. Why?"

"Business." Walter said, simply. He refused to drop his gaze and carried on looking the door guard in the eye.

"Yeah, well you look like a narc to me." The guy said.

"You can check for wires."

"Yeah, I bet you'd like that."
Walter let out an exasperated sigh I'm here to sell him something. Something he can profit of."

The other man rolled his blood-shot brown eyes. "You. Your selling smack?"

"Methamphetamine." Walter corrected. He had no idea what smack was. He wondered not for the first time why criminals insisted on butchering the english language.

"Wait- meth!?" The guy said, his eyes wide. Suddenly his expression darkened. "You tryna say we look like tweakers."

"Of course not- " Walter said frantically, as he suddenly comprehended the danger of what he was doing. "I just thought you would be interested in the prospect of making good mo- "

Before he could finish that sentence, he was knocked of his feet by the guy slamming a fist into his face.
He sprawled out onto the damp pavement, his face suddenly exploding in pain. This guy's punch's made Jesse's seem like the touch of a feather. He heard shouts, and saw dark figures quickly running over. Someone grabbed him by the collet and forced him into sitting position, and yelled something in his face.

"What?" Walt croaked.

"I said are you alright!?" The blonde guy with the dreads asked.

"I'm fine." The chemistry teacher said, although he felt anything but. He brushed the guy of him and forced himself to his feet.

"- The thing about Gaz is, he's on steroids so- "
Walt knew the blonde was saying something, but tuned him out. The guy with the muscles- Gaz - stormed over to him.

"I don't wanna see you here again- ya hear? Fuck you tryina diss me. I'll blast ye knee caps of, yeah!"
Walter hurried away from the stedhead and his roid-rage as fast as he could. Behind him he could hear laughs and hollers.

"Yeah you better run!"

"-aw you didn't need to punch the old nerd- "
Even after they were out of earshot, Walter still burnt with fear and humiliation. A single word swam through his head in an eternal mantra

'Failure, Failure, Failure'

Mr White was back in the classroom the next day, sporting a new bruise on his nose. Luckily for him, his wife had left early so she hadn't noticed.
He didn't pay Jesse any mind when he slinked into the classroom along with the rest of the class.

"Whoa, check out Mr White." Justin hissed to Jesse. "Fresh bruises, man. He don't seem like the type to fight."

"Yeah maybe he's like, putting a mask on at night and trying to be a superhero- you know, like in kick-ass." Jesse muttered, half-smirking. "He seems like the type- repressed, unhappy with life, boring as hell."

"What'y mean 'like in Kick-Ass', is this some new slang I don't know yet, dawg?" Justin asked.

"No, dumbass, the film." Jesse said, rolling his eyes- because who didn't know that film.

"Never heard of it."

"Okay, now you're fucking with me. How could you not- " Jesse stopped in his tracks. How could of he forgot. Kick-Ass wasn't out yet. He felt a sudden pang of longing for all the awesome movies and videogames that weren't yet created. "-Nevermind."

"Your a fricken weirdo sometimes." Justin laughed, punching Jesse in the arm.

"Just sometimes?" Some blonde girl who's name Jesse couldn't even remember called out. Her friends laughed.

Walter stared down at his hands, scowling. He didn't even know why he came to work today- he supposed it was a way of punishing himself for last night's failure.

Don't fuck up again or this is what your life will be.

He'd rushed into it last night.. He was too rash. He'd let his past successes cloud his judgement, the reason he got so far in the first place was because he was so cautious. Oh well, this was probably just a dream.

The bell rang for end of the lesson and the kids all ran out, not wanting to spend another second in the chemistry room doing 'independent study'. Jesse lingered behind. Once the class room was empty, he walked over to Mr White, trying to appear casual.

"So, how's the business going?" He asked, leaning over the desk. He tapped his foot nervously. Mr White didn't say anything, he glared at the work on his desk with hard steely eyes.
"I'm uh- I'm guessing by that big-ass bruise on your face it isn't going great." Jesse continued.

Mr White gritted his teeth. "Don't you have better things to do with your life than irritate me. We aren't business partners. We aren't anything anymore, Pinkman."
He said Jesse's surname like it was an insult.

"You can't sling it can you? You need someone who knows the biz." Jesse said. He hated this. Hating crawling back to Mr White, as usual.

"What of it?" Walter snapped, although his tone was less harsh. He looked up, finally facing Jesse.

"I know.. Where to sell it yo. I could do it." Jesse mumbled, scowling at his trainers. Walter caught sight of a finger-print shaped bruise on his student's neck when he moved, and felt a strange rush of both satisfaction and guilt.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong, but you were vehemently against working with me." Walter said. Jesse glared at him.

"Well things changed. I need the cash." Jesse said, shifting from foot to foot, stepping back. "Do you want my help? Or you rather just make meth you can't sell?"

"I knew you'd come around." Walter gloated, smiling in a condescending way. "I didn't think it'd be so soon though."

"Screw you, man!" Jesse growled, turning to leave.

"Meet me here after school." Walter called after him, a new pep to his voice. "And just know, Jesse, that you#re making the right choice."

(A/N: Phew, okay, This chapter felt a bit clunky. It was the awkward one were I had to force Jesse and Walt back into the meth business together..

Anyway, thanks for all the great comments, no way would I've been able to write this chapter if it wasn't for them :D.. If your reading this, please leave a comment to tell me what you though, I love hearing from you guys!

-thanks!)