Outside the trailer, we see SpokesMexican leave, and if there was a resolution reached with Gus, we don't see it. They stare each other down for a moment before SpokesMexican leaves. With Gus not ten feet away from him now, Jesse reaches into his pocket for the gun Mike gave him, but he doesn't do anything with it. Because he wouldn't want Mike's trust in him to have been misplaced? That's what I'm going with.
In the car, Mike tells Jesse to put the gun in the glove box. He says he'd better teach Jesse how to shoot; "could be things are gonna get hairy." Jesse finally asks WTF is going on here -- is Jesse part of the team or something? Then, about Gus: "He said he sees something in me? Like what?" Mike suggests the answer is "loyalty ... only maybe you got it for the wrong guy."
After the break, Jesse is sitting on a stoop, fondling his cigarettes. Turns out, he's at the church where his old NA support group meets. And here's our old pal Jere Burns, who is pretty thrilled to see Jesse there. He invites him in, which you have to figure was what noncommittal Jesse was angling for.
Jere's talking point on this night is that we need to own our actions, but not act as our own judge/jury/executioner. Let the past go, or you're bound to relapse. Jere focuses on Jesse, who admits that he went back to crystal. Jere wants him to focus on the fact that he's sober now. "Four days," Jesse deadpans. "Big whoop, right?" After some small talk about how working at the laundry "sucks ass," Jere asks if he's got anything he's like to talk about. In fact, he does. He says a couple weeks back, he killed a dog. Ah, so that's how we're going to be talking about it. Jesse says he "put him down." Looked him straight in the eye; he didn't know what was happening, didn't know why, he was just scared. This red-haired older lady tries to help ease Jesse's obvious torment: he was suffering, it was a kindness. But Jesse's not interested in letting himself off the hook. The dog wasn't sick, he says, he was "a problem dog."Well now the red-haired old wants to know the deal. "Did he bite someone?" Nope. This biker guys is like, "But you were back on the rock -- anything can happen then." No rock. And now this group designed to support each other through their worst actions WILL turn on Jesse, because in America, dogs matter SO much more than people. Legal implications aside, Jesse would probably have been better off just admitting he killed a man. Red-Haired Old Lady gets aghast and huffy, and even though Jere tries to get her to back off, she goes on the attack. "Who cares how you feel?" she says, railing against Jesse for killing a helpless, innocent animal. She's right, of course, when applied to Gale. (Hell, she's probably right when it comes to this hypothetical dog too. But no drug-addicted bitch shames Jesse Pinkman like this when I'm around!) Jesse says maybe she's right -- he should've done something different. "If you just do stuff, and nothing happens, what's it all mean?" He's talking consequences. "Kicking the hell out of yourself doesn't give meaning to anything," Jere says, evenly. They're talking about two different things, of course. Consequence and judgment. Responsibility and guilt. Jesse's clenching so hard, but it's not going to keep him from crying. "So I should stop judging and accept?" he starts yelling. "So no matter what I do, hooray from me because I'm a great guy?" Clearly Jesse's not ready to accept that. He's not forgiving himself any time soon, and he's not going to stop this particular tirade until Jere stops being so goddamned nice to him. "You back your truck over your own kid, and you, like, accept? What a load of crap!" Jere tries to make allowances for the way Jesse is struggling right now, so Jesse goes for the self-incriminating jugular: he confesses to dealing meth at the meetings. Jere is finally out of words. "I made you my bitch!" Jesse says. "You okay with that? You accept?" Jerry, quietly: "No." So, you know, congratulations, Jesse?