Chapter Text
He'd been with them a month. A whole month, and they hadn't evicted him.
It was astounding, to him. He was, at the very least, surprised they hadn't thrown him out the front door yet. Especially after he made a mess of the kitchen one late night after coming in from a patrol, disguised as a simple walk. Sure, he was in his regular clothes, but that didn't matter. He had the mask in his pocket. Walter was doing that again tonight, following his old route along where the newsstand used to be, and ending up back at Laurel's house. The lights were on. That was new. The door was unlocked. Also new. Was someone expecting him to come back? The old feeling of realization from October rose up in his gut. He could still see the bullet hole in his head.
But it was just Laurel, at the kitchen table, reading over files, he presumed, for work. Daniel was in bed, he figured. Nite Owl had fallen out of being a night owl. How ironic. He approached gently, before speaking, "Ms. Juzpescyk."
She looked up, eyes tired, "Walter. Thought you might've gone out. There's coffee left." She gestured behind her, Walter noting her own mug of the stuff, before following her gestures back to the coffee machine. "I swear, I need this stuff to function nowadays."
"Doesn't sound pleasant." He remarked, staying right where he was, "What are you doing?"
"Well," Laurie began, "Now the government's all in a fuss because of your little book, so I'm the one who has to give the statement tomorrow to try and keep people from rioting against Veidt."
"Why?"
"Veidt's one of the richest men in the world, Walter. The government couldn't live without him. And being the president that let a wealthy man like him just destroy New York with no repercussions wouldn't exactly look good for Nixon."
Walter rolled his eyes, "Dick never looked good, what's your point?"
That earned him a light laugh, which surprised him, before Laurie spoke again, "Well. At least we agree on one thing."
"Think we agree on more then we think." He poured himself a mug of coffee before joining Laurie at the table. He didn't need to sleep, anyway. Sliding over one of the documents currently not under revision by Laurie, he read over it, before pointing to a particular passage, "Wrong tense."
She jolted, before looking over at him, "...Pardon?"
"Wrong tense. Here." he turned the paper and pointed again, only for Laurie to stop and reword what she had said.
"No, no, I heard you. But... how did you see that?"
"Insulted, Ms. Juzpescyk." Walter snorted, and she sighed before listening to him continue, "Excelled in literature in school. Can figure out past, present, and future tense." he shot her side eye before sipping his coffee.
Laurie's mind just blanked for a moment. She'd never considered that he'd been particularly well read, but now hearing that... it was strange. Not that she minded. She would've been more concerned had he not known how to read. She wondered how much of his backstory would surprise her. "Oh." she looked around at the papers sprawled across the table, "Would you mind just... proofreading this stack, then?" she gathered the already written portions of her statement, and slid them over to Walter, who gave her a small look before beginning to read over the papers, stealing one of Laurie's pens to mark mistakes.
He looked like a discount English teacher, Laurie mused, minus maybe, a nerdy pair of glasses like Dan's. They worked like that for what seemed like forever, Laurie finishing and passing over papers to Walter, who corrected her exhaustion-induced mistakes and passed them back. It was efficient, which she appreciated. And he didn't spend the entire time rambling about the innards of the newest government machine or the next particle that he had discovered. He was... surprisingly human.
She shook her head. She liked Dan. That was the end of it.
When they'd made it through the entire speech to be given, Walter stood up, stretched, then faced Laurie, "Still hate me?"
"I never-" Laurie stopped and sighed. Well, she might as well have. She definitely didn't do anything to contradict that claim. "I don't hate you. I just... extremely dislike some of the things you believe in." When he raised an eyebrow, she continued, "Like... Rockefeller?"
"Ah." was all she got before Walter turned away, cleared his throat, and straightened his suit jacket, "Figured you were still angry."
A shake of Laurie's head, "No. I'm not so much angry anymore as much as... confused." she blinked slowly, trying to wake herself up just a little more. Her coffee had gone cold. "It seems to be against everything you've ever done, right? That one guy you ended up killing and throwing at the police when they sent out the Keene Act? Wasn't he-"
"Yes." Walter didn't look at her. They both sat in agonizing silence. Neither of them wanted to say it, really. It was harsh. But Walter swallowed, continuing, "Comedian fought for country. Seems to outweigh-"
"Do you know how many times he got court-martialed? Too many for a normal guy. Especially the one that's supposed to be a government sponsored "hero"." Laurie countered, watching the man in front of her's reaction. He was stiffening up. Had no one ever challenged his ideas like this? Ever? Well, it didn't surprise her. Even if they did, they'd probably get their fingers broken. But then, why was he not outright going after her?
He just pulled at his shirt sleeve, before turning back, and sitting down at the table again. "Keep going."
She sat, stunned, "Excuse me?"
"Tell me more. What makes you so angry about him?"
He was... letting her explain her thoughts? She almost smiled, but managed to keep herself under wraps. He wanted everything? She'd tell him everything.
When Dan awoke the next morning, his fiancee was beside him, sound asleep, and Walter... Walter was at the kitchen table, fast asleep in his clothes. He crept over, trying not to wake him suddenly, before shaking him gently to attempt to stir him. It worked, surprisingly, Walter giving a quiet yawn and stretching as he sat up, turning to face the source of his disturbance, "...Daniel."
"Walter." Dan returned the greeting, "Why're you sleeping in here?"
The other man thought for a moment, trying to remember the night before, slowly beginning to explain himself, "Proofread Ms. Juzpescyk's statement. Helped her correct it." He thought a bit more, before deciding against what he was about to say. It seemed too personal. "Hope it goes well."
There was a moment of confusion, before Dan smiled at his old partner, who prepared himself to leave for another "walk" ( Dan always knew what he was really trying to do ). A quick thought, and the words tumbled out of him before he even got a moment to process them, "Walter, how would you feel about getting actual help?"
They could've heard a pin drop.
Walter turned, facing Dan just in front of the door frame with the most baffled look he'd ever imagined on this man face, "...What do you mean?"
"Like... I don't know... a therapist? A psychologist? Anything?"
If there was anything Dan would swear on right now, it was that Walter likely would never come back now. He'd just blown every chance he had right here with nine words. The silence cut into both of them, before Walter mumbled out, "...Would that let me stay?"
Oh. So that was what he was afraid of? Getting thrown out? Well, it should've been reasonable, in his head. Walter had never really had a home like this. It must've felt like a dream, or something. Like he wasn't supposed to be existing with them. Dan sighed, and smiled, "Buddy. You'd be able to stay either way. You have my word on that. But I think some professional help would do you some good."
The ginger by the door began to mess with his shirt sleeves, thinking through Dan's proposition. So he could stay, even if he refused... but that made no sense. Surely, in order for them to deal with him, he'd need to get help. Had Laurel said something? Or was this all Daniel's thinking? He wasn't too sure, nor did he really want to know. It was frustrating, and a small tear in the sleeve he was playing with made him stop, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. He felt his insides tighten, "Think I'm crazy, Daniel?"
"No-!" Dan put his hands up defensively, looking damn near shocked at the suggestion, "No, I don't." he stopped, sighed, took off his glasses, and began to clean them. "I don't even know what I thought. But... I do want to see you... happy, Walter. Maybe get a fresh start."
Oh, that idea was so intoxicating to Walter. That deep, crazed feeling within him stirred, screaming at him to reject it, but he'd been here too long. He'd somehow managed to push it away. It was right here in front of him now. He could swear he saw his own American Dream right before his eyes. The American Love in green glass Coke bottles. It was here, in this house, just outside of New York city. It made him tremble. Out of delight for a future or fear of the unknown, he wasn't the least bit sure. He turned to his old partner. Something bubbled in his chest. He held out a hand. "Will do it, Daniel."
Dan's own, delightfully warm hand took his, "You won't regret it, buddy."
"Know I won't." Walter could feel his face getting warm, "You're a good friend, Daniel."