Walter Martinis ( part 2. )
( I will need a third part for Walter. He's got a lotta shit to unpack.... but I may detour a bit first.)
( So... ummmmm... it's been a while since I touched this AU. But that doesn't matter because I'm just making this completely for self indulgence. This has been rotting in my drafts for... ages. So... TADA! )
( Oh, SPEAKING OF DRAFTS. My drafts have been glitching out and POSTING instead of saving. It's PISSING. ME. OFF )
TW. DEREALISATION. UNREALITY. BLOOD(? IMPLIED)
( ... after the stream of HLVRAI Act 3 Part 1... )
The headset crashed to the carpet with a dull thud, it'd gotten caught in Walter's long hair which he hadn't washed in a while when he'd ripped it off his head and tugged out a few strands along with it.
But Walter didn't care. No, that was the least of his problems.
He couldn't feel his arm.
It'd been burning from pain not a moment ago, but now there was nothing. No pain but also no feeling.
He couldn't feel his hand.
Walter shook his hand, waiting for any feeling, any pins and needles.
Nothing.
It flopped lifelessly. No feeling. Walter tried running it under water, poking, pinching, stretching.
Nothing.
It was just limp. It made no sense. He knew he should've immediately gone to the hospital, but what would he say? ' My arm went completely numb after I played a game where my arm got cut off and I swear I'm not delusional??' Not to even mention the bills.
He knew isolation would only make this all worse, but he didn't want to see anyone. Maybe if he ignored it, he'd wake up and realise it was all a dream.
So, Walter stayed holed up in his apartment for days, contemplating calling his friends and resisting the pull to put the headset back on.
Or, at least he thought he was resisting.
However, after a day of being unable to think of anything but the game... he kicked up a stream and put the headset on.
Walter didn't even bother greeting his chat - he hadn't a chance. The pain immediately flared up again in his arm, like it'd never stopped. He a wave of fog cloud his mind as the line between reality and the game blurred.
It was a godsend when he finally stumbled into Tommy, honestly Gordon thought he was going to die-
Walter. His name was Walter.
For a few moments there he'd forgotten that. There was no bloodloss, so why was he so light headed? Why did his hand feel wet and sticky when he touched the ' stump ' the limp hand with his alright hand? Or did he really feel that? Was he just delirious?
(... skip on over to the end ... ( Just a note : When Walter later gets the gun hand from Darnold's potion, his real hand is still limp. I'm just too lazy to write that scene out. )
Walter sat at the Chucky Cheese party table staring blankly at the table cover. The adrenaline of the fight was wearing off and the fear and exhaustion crept through his bones.
Every time he blinked which was getting more frequent by the moment he saw Benrey's glitching shifting form... and those skeletons.
Those skeletons had unnerved him from the start- no, that one skeleton. That skeleton that only he had seen. That skeleton whose eyeless gaze that was somehow so full of loathing was burned into his brain.
That skeleton that'd had a passport which had displayed the bizarre name ' YOU '
Even thinking about it sent a chill down his spine.
He tore his eyes up to watch his friends dance about. They seemed so happy. Walter watched Tommy giving the vaguely minion-shaped pinata his all as his father stood by watching with what Walter assumed was some sort of pride or joy - he didn't even think that man's face could make any expression other than a blank stare could any of their faces?
Bubby and Dr. Coomer were dancing around with their clones / prototypes.
Walter knew he should've been feeling happy that they were feeling so energetic and that they were all safe. But his eyes wouldn't stop flickering between the clones, like he was expecting them to jump at him... because deep down he was.
Coomer's speech still haunted the back of his mind. Atom by atom.... Walter didn't even want to think of what that'd feel like.
Walter's hand found his - now non-gun - arm. He knew there was no way Coomer could've ' puppeteered ' his body by ' climbing into his skin ' ... but it still wasn't a nice thought.
Walter felt the unnerving feeling that he was being watched, however when he turned around, there was anything there....
Not anymore.
