Chapter Text
So, here it is. It has officially been one year since Walter and Lance took in Killian. It has also officially been a year since Walter started leading a new team. It’s been going pretty great for him. Well, except for the fact that he has the biggest, fattest crush on his partner. Just like anyone else, he has no plans on telling him any sooner. Come on, it’s Lance Sterling he has a crush on. No way he’s on his partner’s level. Even thinking about it makes his spine shiver. He’s not even 100% sure that Lance is gay. But if he does end up confessing, he is incredibly and deeply afraid that Lance will reject him, which will ruin their partnership.
Usually, to take his mind from it, he has been paying Killian visits in the mental hospital once a month. Of course, to keep him in check and to make sure he’s doing well. With these visits, the two got closer, from Walter sharing new gadget ideas to sharing each other's stories either at work or the hospital. Sooner or later, the agent learns his real name—Tristan Steven “Killian” McFord—as well as the fact that Tristan has been getting therapy and has been diagnosed with PTSD. However, this month’s visit is different. Tristan will be able to leave the mental hospital, just on patrol with an ankle monitor, since he has been on good behavior.
And by nature, Lance and Marcy don't know that he’s been meeting with Tristan. Walter knows damn well that if they knew, he would definitely get eaten alive. He has been covering these visits as “visits to the dentist” or “a trip to the cafe with Eyes.” Yes, Eyes agreed to cover for him, even though she kinda flipped out when she first heard of it.
Walter leans his head on the steering wheel, fidgeting at his jacket sleeve. “Alright. You got this. It’s just 30 minutes.” He then rearranges his head to look up at the ceiling of his car.
“He’s leaving the hospital today. He’s going to be fine.” Exiting the car, he looks at his phone—a new message from Eyes.
FourEyes
FourEyes: Hey Walter, don’t forget we have that new mission briefing later. Don’t have too much fun with Killian 👍
Ah, right. That briefing. People have been talking about it at the agency. He overheard that it was about some mafia that resurfaced after 10 years. Some other agents were hoping that the case would go to them, but Jenkins made her choice. Compared to others, though, Walter wasn’t too excited about it. This was just gonna be like any mission he’s been to—a quick case. Sure, it sounded cool, but this case has been the ‘hot gos’ for the past few months. He just got bored of the basic “Oh, did you hear about the new case?” Unfortunately, his partner was nagging him about it too. He had some pulsing urge to tell Lance to shut up.
Sighing, he places his phone in his pocket, and he closes his eyes, preparing himself to enter the mental hospital. After greeting the receptionist and passing a couple of people, he goes straight to the visit rooms.
“Okay. Tristan is in room…” Walter pauses, scanning through the different room numbers, “there, 009.”
Walter hesitates behind the door, his hand halfway to the handle. Should he have brought a gift? Looking down at his empty, sweaty hands, he takes a deep breath, and the doors swing open as Walter enters the room. Tristan stands up from his seat, startled by the sudden opening. Both of them pause, frozen in time—the silence bouncing off the white padded walls. Since the incident, this was his first time seeing Tristan in casual attire rather than a white shirt and khaki pants. He was wearing a simple gray sweater and black jogging pants.
“Wow.” Walter exasperates as he looks at Tristan up and down. He couldn’t help but feel bittersweet and proud of him.
3 more seconds of silence.
“Hey.” Tristan half-waves his mechanical hand as Walter walks toward the table and sits down on the cold metal chair. Tristan follows and sits on his chair afterward.
“Today’s the day…! How are you feeling? A little nervous?” Walter hesitantly gives Tristan a grin. Chuckling, Tristan looks down at his clasped hands.
“Yep. The chief had given me a six-month rent-free apartment. At least to let me get up on my feet first and to get a job before I start paying for rent. Or at least before I find somewhere else to live.” Tristan says with a raspy voice, avoiding eye contact. It sounds and looks like he’s been crying all night.
Walter glances at him, concerned, a small smile on his face. “Well, that sounds more than fine. That’s great accommodation.”
“Does Agent Sterling know you’ve been visiting me?” Tristan looks up.
Silence.
“...No. He would have strapped me to a chair just to prevent me from visiting you.” Walter sighs and chuckles, readjusting his position in his chair, and then falls into a moment of silence once again. This is more awkward than usual. “You seem tense, Tristan. You sure you’re okay?” Walter tilts his head, worry treading in his blue irises.
The two make eye contact. The mechanical man hesitates. “Well, I’ve stayed here for a year. I feel… scared. This is a new beginning. A path to something new. And, well, after trying to kill Agent Sterling and everyone in the agency, it feels like it’s been forever since I had peace. I’ve lived a life of hatred, Walter. Now that I have healed, what else am I supposed to do?” His human eye tears up, voice cracking.
Walter pauses. He has no idea how to respond. But one idea did come to mind. “Live life. Go jogging in the cool morning breeze, eat at a cafe, give the waiter a tip. Show that you’ve improved. You’ve earned this.” Walter places his hand on Tristan’s shoulder.
“You won’t regret it.”
Ping! Walter looked down at his pocket; his phone had rung. A text from Lance?
BirdBoy
BirdBoy: The briefing is about to start. Where the hell are you, man?
“Shit, sorry, Tristan. Our visit today has to be cut short. It’s a…work thing.”
Walter runs out of the room, frantically running his hands through his locks.
I’m so late.
***************************************************
As Walter was stumbling out of the elevator, he slammed the door open to the briefing room. All conversations paused. “I’m here! I am NOT late.” Walter raised his finger into the air, exhausted from running.
“Well, good, because you’re only an hour late. Where the hell were you, Walter?” Lance adjusts his suit, avoiding eye contact.
Walter quickly scans the room; Jenkins was in the middle of discussing their plan. “Oh, sorry. I’ll just… sit down…” Walter awkwardly sits between Marcy and Lance.
“As I was saying…Since there will be a lot of drug activity at this party, Marcy, you will go undercover as a buyer; try your best to earn their trust. Once you build rapport with them, have them tell you their supplier. Try to grab as much information as you can.” Jenkins instructs as Marcy leans on the table with her hands crossed.
“Wait, hold on a second. Why am I not going undercover?” Lance abruptly spurts.
The director follows. “Your face is too familiar. When the dealers see you, they will know you’re up to something. We will have a wire on her anyway, so Ears and Eyes are in touch with the situation, at least two blocks away. Not only that, Lance, you’ll be busy doing something else with Walter.” As soon as Jenkins says the last two words, the two share eye contact.
Jenkins continues, “Once Marcy gets the drug, she will be distracting the dealer. The venue is at a mansion, so your target, Walter, is in the office where they keep their records. Figure out their money laundering case. Understood?” Everyone nods their head except for Walter.
Walter hesitantly raises his hand before Jenkins has the chance to do anything else. “Wait, excuse me…but how about Lance?”
“Try your best to find a way to let Lance in the building and into his office,” Jenkins orders Lance and Walter.
“Are we understood? Any more questions?” Jenkins raises an eyebrow as everyone else sits still.
“Alright. Dismissed.” Jenkins turns the projector off and leaves the room, including Lance, Marcy, and Ears.
“Need me to explain what’s happening in the case?” Eyes pops up behind Walter as he jumps, startled by the sudden scare.
“Ah, Eyes. Please do—I was so lost in there.” Walter pleads to his best friend with clasped hands shoved into Eyes’ face.
Eyes drags him to the front of the table. “Alright, so here’s the deal. Around 2010, the police department began investigating the Russian Mafia for soliciting drugs, as word on the street said there was a new drug. However, by 2011, their investigation led nowhere since the mafia stopped producing the drug. Around a few months ago—let's say 4 months—they resurfaced and started selling it again. But because the police department got nowhere with their case with them a decade ago, they’re giving us the chance to finish the job. Lance was pumped up about it since this is his last case before he moves agencies, so that’s why he was shocked to hear he was on the bench for this one. But aside from that–” Eye was exasperated as if she just ran a marathon. Walter stares at her with shock in his blue eyes.
Transferring? Did she just say Lance is moving agencies? “WHAT!? He’s transferring? Why didn’t he tell me?” Walter jumps from his chair. Blood rushes to his head as feelings of shock, disbelief, and despair get to him.
“SHHH! Oh gosh, I wasn’t supposed to say that until next week!” Eyes shuts Walter up, uncomfortable with the situation she put herself in as she slowly places Walter back into his chair.
“Okay, he was scared to tell you because he knew you would react that way. But please, I am begging you, don’t tell Lance I told you.”
Walter loudly whispers, “You know I have been crushing on him for a year! After the events with Tristan, he was literally the first crush I’ve had my entire life. Not to mention, he’s my partner for the team that I am leading, and now we’re just letting him leave!?” Walter rapidly speaks, not letting himself breathe.
“Walter, please! It’s Lance Sterling we’re talking about here. He can handle himself.” Walter looks down while Eyes places her hand on his left shoulder.
“Fine. What kind of crap agency is he transferring to?” Walter crosses his arms as he raises an eyebrow at Eyes.
“Rosewood, just…” Eyes pauses, “...across the state.”
“Are you kidding!?” Walter groans, looking up to the ceiling.
“Calm down, man. It will all be fine.” Eyes reassures her best friend.
Moments of silence fall between the two. Walter’s heart literally snapped in half. Transferring was the only word in his head. Repeating and surrounding him.
“Do you still wanna talk about it? Wanna get dinner, some drinks after?”
“Yeah…Sure. I need something to take my mind off of this.” Walter places his hand over his head.
“Alright, I am absolutely starved. I’m craving Japanese.” Eyes groans the word ‘Japanese’ as she opens the door. Walter goes ahead of her and bumps into a scientist in the hallway, spreading documents and blueprints all over the floor. Almost completely forgetting that Lance is transferring.
“Oh shit! I am so sorry.” Walter apologizes.
“Here, please, let us help.” Walter and Eyes frantically crouch and assist the scientist with the papers.
“Don’t be sorry, man. I bumped into you; that’s my fault.” The unknown scientist places his hand over his chest.
Finishing gathering the documents, Walter hands out the papers to the scientist, but he sees the man in the white lab coat hesitate. “Hey…you’re the guy who took down Killian!” The unfamiliar face grins.
“I am a big fan, dude. You are like one of the main reasons I wanted to become a part of the H.T.U.V.” He stretches his hand out for a handshake, but Walter is starstruck. A fan?
“Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here. Are you new?” Eyes intrudes.
The man pauses, glances at Eyes. “Oh, rude of me not to introduce myself, ay? I’m Oscar. Oscar Robinson.”