Lo and behold, Junior is actually driving the Cruiser -- success! A small victory for Skyler White. He rings Walt's doorbell to no response, because, as we cut inside to Walter, we see he's in bed, with a sheet over his head, and the wound on his forehead has bled through the sheet. When Junior starts leaving a message on the machine, Walt pulls the sheet off ... and it STICKS to his GROSS HEAD WOUND. Yack. So Junior says he's seriously worried about his dad, after he missed out on Junior's birthday party. He says he's going to call 911 if he doesn't get an answer. This gets Walt, clad in his customary tennis whites (i.e. sad, saggy underpants) to open the garage door and invite Junior in with a gruff "Come in if you're coming in." He's groggy as fuck, and when Junior asks what happened, he admits he got into a fight. Junior is intent on making his dad talk to him, even threatening to call Skyler. Walt says don't, because he's been gambling. The closeup on Walt's face -- bruised and cut and misshapen -- reveals that, for once, there's no mask of pride or rage. He begs Junior to keep it to himself. Junior presses for details, like who he got into a fight with? Walt considers his answer, then does the most shocking thing I've seen all season: he starts to cry. "I made a mistake," he says. "It's my own fault." Junior tears up in sympathy, as Walt keeps repeating that it's all his fault and he's sorry. Is he saying it to Junior? Or to someone else? Junior tries to comfort his dad, who is in such a terrible state. It's Junior who actually walks Walt back to his bedroom and tucks him into bed. Near-asleep, Walt asks Junior how his birthday was and about his new car. Junior, adorably, is like, "Sure I like it! It drives great!" Walt mumbles his response: "That's good, Jesse." Oh, break my heart, Walter White.
Mexico's Meth Kitchen. Jesse goes through the steps of mixing the ingredients, as the other lab workers watch (and in some cases record on video). Time lapse to the next morning, when Jesse is breaking up the glass. Mexichemist sourly takes a sample, grinds it up, dissolves it into water, and injects that solution into this machine that obviously calibrates the meth's purity. Jesse and the workers watch as the numbers climb, and when they settle on 96.2, Jesse lets out a triumphant exhale. "Well done," says Gus (positive feedback from an authority figure!), while Mexichemist scowls. "The first of many," says Gaff happily. Jesse kind of WTFs at him, so Gaff elaborates: "You belong to the cartel now." So, you know, GULP.