[ Walt laughed in Chilton's face when he suddenly had the audacity to talk back to him, to establish ground rules of his own. He really didn't understand how this worked, did he? The hand removed itself from Chilton's wrist, and for a second, it seemed as though he was going to listen. That was, until, his hand went to the back of Chilton's head, grabbed a handful of hair and yanked it back -- forcing the psychiatrist to look up at him. Walt, then, leaned in -- hovering over him. ]

How cute you are, drawing lines in the sand -- even though the wind, or in this case your hot air, will cause it to waft away. I'm sorry, but did you try to imply you helped me? That you are helping me? Do I look like I'm on the path to sanity? Do I look like I won't just kill you right here and be done with you for the few days it takes for you to revive?

[ The words were murmured, low enough for their ears only. While the actions are viewable and drawing eyes, Walt was careful not to let their conversation be heard. ]

You can't shut out anything to me, Chilton. That's not how this works. So you better reevaluate your position and make the appropriate changes. And you better do it damn quick, otherwise I walk out that door and I take my legacy with me. And you? The only thing you get to do is pine after what could have been yours -- what will be another psychiatrist's. Remember, I still do have that disk -- bear that in mind when you make your decision about how much is my business and WHAT I have permission to do.