Archive of Our Own ^beta

He doesn't know of great loss. In fact he had chosen this career path in the first place because he had trouble feeling things and managing his emotions and this wasn't something that was bound to suddenly change in his mature age. Right?

You, on the other hand,had been like a knife cut that threatened to slice over his heart any minute. He was used to being flirted with at the Police Academy — not just by people in training but his own co-workers too — but you clearly weren't here for that. But this wasn't him bragging about himself, no. A lot of people minded their business like you did but apparently for the first time he could not mind his business when it came to you. His favourite trainee.

“Name.” You had never seen a man as stern as this one. Not even a smile or a pretend-happiness to be here with all of you for passing your police academy exams — Walter looked anything but excited.

You gave him your name in a firm tone and merely earned a gruff from him as he moved to the next trainee. That was your first glimpse of Walter Marshall.

Reminiscing about things that only happened two months ago wasn't very normal, Walter thought. But here he was, thinking about every moment he'd shared with you while his eyes searched for that red tracking dot on the large panel screen. There were many voices around him giving out orders or spitting out information he already knew of or guessed. It didn't matter to Walter. All that mattered was to find you alive.

“Mister Marshall.” You had a very distinguished voice ; loud enough to be heard but also gentle enough to soothe. Walter often wondered how the hell you'd appeared so cheerful working your way up into a police academy. The rest of your colleagues seemed like the fucking walking dead — and that was the kind way to put it too. He turned to you crossing his arms before his chest and waited. Walter wasn't one to acknowledge people with words but rather with short gestures. “I wanted to thank you!”

There was that positive smile, that kindness in your eyes ... in a field that would be anything but that. To this day,he wondered why you'd chosen something like this when you were like that. Good. “What?” You seemed amused at his confusion and your smile grew impossibly wider. “You’ve taught us so many things and I think you're the reason why I haven't given up yet.” He caught a glimpse of sadness in your gaze but you teared it away from his so quickly that he couldn't be sure. “Sometimes it feels like you're the only one who presents reality as it is...who doesn't always go by the book.” When your eyes lingered to his, Walter felt as if something had shifted both within you and within himself. His gaze had softened in a way it hadn't before for anyone. “I want to be a cop like you,sir. I want to be a good cop.”

Those blue eyes remained faithful following that red dot on the screen whilst his ears had entirely deafened the background noise mix of voices, yelling and computers clicking. The signal was strong and as long as the tracker wasn't discovered by whoever was doing this, it would be fine. You would be safely returned to the station — to Walter.

It was an unspeakable thing for him to see blood and feel anything about it. That's why he was here anyways ; he didn't feel.

But Walter’s presence was requested as an instructor during the academy's physical training. Walter’s presence was necessary and his sharp eyes were meant to follow every clumsy fucking move, even yours, as you were pinned to the ground by another candidate and struggled. The back of your arms which were not covered by the suit scratched over the ground’s rocky surface and bled.

Something ticked in his jaw and his shoulders felt heavy. But you were not a fucking child, you were a trainee. “Get up!” You were caught off guard not because Walter had screamed at you but because of how he'd screamed your name when he did. His voice was like a trigger to your inner switch ; as if what you had needed was his push to counterattack your field mate and completely switch up the results, straddling the currently panting man while one of your elbows was firmly pressed against his nape and your other hand skillfully pinned his hands on the ground. You used your weight as means of keeping him down and it had worked. When the training was done and the trainees abandoned the field one by one, you stayed behind. Walter wasn't surprised to watch you leave last and when your paths met, you realized you needn't thank him for his assist. He placed a large palm on your shoulder, squeezed it and left. You had rightfully not slept that night.

“He is on the phone.” Walter's eyes snapped open once he heard those words. He reacted immediately, walking up to his co-worker and snatching the police phone from him. If his voice could get any gruffer or darker, it had just did. “If you touch her, you're a dead man.” The unknown voice on the other line laughed as if this was some sort of joke. “It is not a matter of if, Walter Marshall. It is a matter of when. So when will you save her? What are you waiting for?” Walter slammed his fist on the desk before him and the impact was terrifying enough to make everyone around him jump. But he could not care less about it. His emotions had gotten the best of him. For the first time. “I’ll find you. And her. And if I see a single tear on her face, I'm shooting you on the spot you hear me?” The veins on his neck were prominent and angry, his skin entirely red with anger too. Walter did not expect to turn pale in an instant after that. It was never supposed to go this way, he thought, as the flickering red dot disappeared off screen for good. The commotion around him was nothing as intense as the one in his mind and that voice had once again managed to strike him where it hurt. “Well I will be waiting for you. Time is ticking.” The line went dead.

During the graduation ceremony Walter noticed that while the others were surrounded by family and loved ones you were alone in your own corner, occasionally greeting your friends and exchanging your congratulations to one another.

He had wondered how a person like you could not be surrounded by all that — by people.

His first instinct was to walk to you and stand before your surprised being. It wasn't like Walter Marshall was one to congratulate graduates individually ; no one did that.

“Mister Marshall—”

He shook his head disapprovingly. “Walter.” You couldn't help but stare at him confused for a while and the corner of his lips twitched but he did not smile.

“You graduated. You're not a trainee anymore, you're...team.” The flare on your cheeks was evident to anyone and, despite the shyness consuming you, you did not look away from those piercing eyes. “M— Walter. Thank you.” It was a delight to hear you speaking his name as if you were always meant to do so ; a cheesy thought he would take with him to his grave.

“Walter, that is stupid. You're being stupid!” He couldn't care less about what one of his colleagues was telling him as the big man rounded his Jeep and entered it, slamming the door behind him. Something like that didn't save him from the lecture of course ; but Walter focused on turning on the engine and adjusting the mirror to his liking. “It is a suicide mission, what you're doing. He wants you to go there otherwise he wouldn't disclose his location so freely. He has a plan and it is clearly a trap for you!” Walter slammed his fist on the wheel as he turned to look at his colleague. “If it is a trap then so be it. I have the experience to counter anything.” But his colleague, his old friend, was no fool. “No you don't, Walter. Not like this.” Walter couldn't cut him off, the other person would not budge. “This is personal to you, all of us can see it. It means something and your emotions... they're influencing you right now. You're a cop, Walt, you're not supposed to—” He did not want to hear it. “She said I can do it.” There was something different in his eyes as he stared at his reflection on the car mirror ; those blue orbs were passive no more but glistening with something unshed. Something stupid. “She said I'm allowed to.”

“You can do it once in a while you know.” Walter stared at you from where he was sitting by your side on the empty staircases of the police building. You were chewing on a sandwich which you had purchased from the vending machine while Walter was sipping on his bitter coffee, watching you. He always watched you ever since you had enrolled in his police department for practice. What a coincidence. “Do what?” The man asked with the same gruffness in his voice. “Feel. Show some emotion.” He looked at you with a scowl and you laughed — only you laughed at him so freely. Walter took another quiet sip of his coffee intending to dismiss your words but you did not give up. “A man cannot work on logic alone. You can't use that as an excuse every time, sir.” The formal title earned you a glare and you corrected yourself with amusement. “Walter.” He hummed in approval while averting his gaze to his coffee. At least it didn't judge him for whatever was going on in his ... well. “Logic helps me save lives. Not feelings.” You wanted to protest but Walter raised his hand. “No, I will not elaborate with you. We're partners and I'm your mentor but we are not friends.” His words did not hurt you anymore as you had heard them countless times before but they did get under your skin. Just a tiny bit. Walter always noticed somehow. “Don’t frown,kid. That's my thing.” The words made you chuckle and you unconsciously leaned your head atop his shoulder, resting like this. Walter let you and you ate your food quietly, clearing your mind from any thoughts occupying it but he wished he could say the same. You smelled great. “Don’t wear that perfume again.” You laughed and whether you had understood his true intentions or not, you did not comment further.

10:45pm. Walter had reached the last location given by the kidnapper and was on the move. It was a typical place — an abandoned building which acquired an underground parking with terrible lighting. A perfect spot to commit acts that went against Walter’s law. His mind raced with numerous possibilities. What if he hadn't made it in time? What if you were already dead? What if he had lost you forever? The sound of hands clapping interrupted his reign of thinking and Walter unclasped the gun holder before gripping his pistol with both hands, treading carefully. Suddenly the dark parking lot merged with light and Walter had to shield his eyes away from the intense yellow lighting until he was used to it. Looking back at the source of the sound, Walter dared not breathe. Nor make a sound. It was no surprise to find the masked man there, holding a gun — a gun to your head. Walter watched you and took you in, fuck he took you in. The dried tears on your cheeks, your bloodied nose, your cut lip and the bruises imprinted on your arms and legs. You had clearly not gone down without a fight. “Walter Marshall!” The voice of the kidnapper did little to occupy his gaze. Walter was still looking at you. “Romantic isn't it? Middle of nowhere. Pretty lights—” Walter gritted his teeth when the masked man walked towards you and lifted you by your hair, yanking you around as if you were a bag of flour. “Pretty girl.” The words were venomous and hushed. Walter took a step forward but stopped as soon as the kidnapped pressed the barrel of his gun against your jaw. “Ah ah ah. One more step and the girl dies.” He knew better than to disobey that order and so he stayed put. “Like a good dog,aren't you? Never thought I'd witness the historical moment of Walter Marshall turning into a good little dog because of a stupid girl.” You had clearly been unconscious judging by your shut eyes and unresponsive limbs but Walter witnessed you recovering slowly. Your eyes met and it was as if you were staring at either a ghost or a savior. You wished to go to him more than anything yet based on the circumstances you could not. It was difficult to even speak with the wounds you'd suffered, you were in so much pain. “Sir—” Walter flinched and his eyes grew wider than ever as the unknown man slapped you across the face to silence you. He could end this ; all he needed was to move fast and use his gun. He could save you.

“Excuse her. She has no manners.” You remained on the floor, entirely unresponsive once again. It was impossible for Walter to calculate your wounds, you had so many. The stranger snapped him back to reality once more and resumed with his games. “Now where was I? Right! Right.” “You must be wondering why—”

“I know why.” Walter growled while squeezing the gun in his hands, consumed by the urge to just eliminate but his heart would not allow him to when you're right there, in danger. “I failed you in the examination because you sucked. You were the one she beat—” He could feel his body shaking with anger as he connected the puzzle pieces, creating the picture in his mind. “—your issue is with me. You let her go.” The masked man clapped again and a maddening laugh escaped his throat as he removed his mask. Walter had figured it out and broke it down to the very last detail. “Holy fuck, you are good. Fucking brilliant even! It is true what they say about you.” Walter watched as the man circled your body while swinging his gun left and right, entirely indifferent about your state. That was clearly for Walter to worry about. “It is almost sad to see you so pathetic over a mere...” Walter clenched his jaw tight. “Whore.” The kidnapper was smiling no longer, his eye bags appearing darker if possible. Walter noted everything down in his mind — the mental instability, the crazed movement of his eyes and the shake in his hands. He needed to be careful with his words and actions as to not set him off. “If it weren't for your heroic cries,I could have beat her you know? She's useless, incapable but I'm sure she convinced you in the best way possible.” Don't. “What was it? A blowjob? Sex? Photos?” Walter could do nothing but stay still and think. Think of a solution. “I get it you know,I'm a man too. The tighter, the better—” The man's leg hovered over your head but he did not look at you ; he was staring at Walter with the sickest smirk. “—but to me she'd be better off dead.” Walter barely had time to move forward a little when the man shook the gun in his grasp. He couldn't get near you, not yet. His blue eyes traced the surrounding area as the bastard of a man continued his speech ; a full of shit monologue.

“But then I thought it'd be so cliche to make you suffer. Instead I'll eliminate the one who makes others suffer — you. Walter Marshall, the best in the field, my ass, you're just another shit cop.” I want to be a cop like you,sir. I want to be a good cop.

“You feel nothing. No remorse,no anything!” A man cannot work on logic alone. You can't use that as an excuse every time, sir. “You’re damn hollow and empty! You—”

He heard the safety of another's gun going off and looked forward whereas the unknown man was pointing his gun at Walter, making his intentions very clear. But the usual passive and firm demeanor was nowhere in sight as Walter’s eyes widened in ... Fear. Anxiety. Worry. Walter Marshall looked at death before him and then at you, and your nearly lifeless body. Feelings were just chemicals extracted from one’s brain therefore if one simply accepted the existence of those chemicals without acknowledging their effects, they could survive in this heartless world. He knew that — he went by that law. Walter's law. And yet those chemicals reached his lungs and crawled their way down to his heart and Walter felt a pain like never before.

It was like a knife cut that threatened to slice over his heart any minute, just like you.

“I won!” You exclaimed happily, setting down the last uno card on the table. You had bumped into Walter during his lunch break and convinced him, mind you it took a lot of pleading and a coffee treat, to sit with you for a while. The large man scoffed and rolled his eyes as you cheered for yourself. “This is a stupid game. Not actual cards.” You were unable to hide your grin as he expressed his intense disappointment. It was nice to see him show more emotions around you even if it was over an uno game. “It is a game with cards therefore you're incorrect!” You looked so happy and satisfied that he had no heart to tell you about the plus four he had hidden underneath his sleeve. Typical Water Marshall who would rather purposely lose than see your face pouting for beating you. But that was something you didn't need to know about, of course. “Beats me,kid. Next time we're doing my card game.” He knew you were about to tease him with your following response, “Right! Must be an ancient game. Do they still sell it for people your age?” You sensed his glare before witnessing it and laughed. “I’m merely joking. You are not that old.” He seemed to become less tense with your words but you couldn't hold yourself back. “Just a little.” Another glare as he placed some cash on the table and a fat tip for the waiter. So typical of him to not let you treat him even if you promised. It was quiet as you strolled around the park, having a few more minutes left to spend. It was quite sunny but you had thankfully located a peaceful path covered entirely by tree shade. Walter suddenly halted beside you and crossed his arms as usual, giving you a generous view of his forearms. You had started noticing him more often — his physique,his eyes,his habits and the changes in his voice depending on the situation. Right now he was speaking like a friend more than a mentor. “Spit it out.” Your cheeks flared. He had noticed your nervous fidgeting ever since the cafe. “I’m getting married.” Walter stared at you without much emotion as if urging you to continue. Or he was simply processing things. “You know better than anyone...that I came here alone and my family doesn't approve of anything I've done so far. They do not want to attend either, I already asked—” He murmured something under his breath and you chuckled. He had no shame in insulting whoever hurt you. “—but frankly it did not bother me at all. I never wanted someone to walk me down the aisle... until now.” You stared at him and Walter took a step back, finally glueing the pieces together. There was a tightness in his chest and not of the good kind — god, he was terrible. Your eyes sparkled as you resumed speaking, your hands coming forward in a pleading gesture. He knew what you'd say. “You can think about it— I would never force you.” The gentle wind and the rustling of the leaves did little to soothe his aching. It was similar to comforting a plant that had already withered, with sunlight. Walter swallowed thickly. “It is either I do it alone or with you,Walter.” You were beautifully cruel, like the sun peaking through the clouds on the coldest winter day. But even then you couldn't soothe the frostbite around his beating heart and Walter wondered how it'd be if he had kept those brain chemicals detained. Unmoving. “You can still hit me with the 'we are not friends, we are partners' talk. I'll accept it.” You quickly mumbled and Walter realized you were embarrassed because he had spent more time staring at you than actually forming a reply. He cleared his throat, straightened his posture and nodded. Frostbites surely didn't hurt this badly. “Sure.” His gruff response meant the world to you. Walter felt alarmed when he noticed the tears in your eyes and his hands ached to do something but he didn't move, it'd be inappropriate. You hugged him and it was the first time he had received a hug ; at least one he actually desired. His body moved to its own accord as those strong arms wrapped around your waist hesitantly and returned the rare affection between you. “Better stay alive ‘till my wedding, big guy.” He had simply rolled his eyes then, not knowing what was to come.

His shirt was soaked with blood by the time he reached your unconscious body, kneeling beside it and cradling your head to his chest. Your eyes fluttered open slowly and the chemicals surrounded his heart with something different. Relief. “Help is coming.” His voice wasn't gruff but rather pained and that's when you took notice of his state — pale cold skin, shaky fingers, bloodied shirt and blood on your hands which did not belong to you. The man that had kidnapped you was lying cold on the ground, away from the two of you, clearly dead but his only wound was the shot on his head. Nothing else. You sat up slowly as your eyes saw it — two shots on Walter's left side, letting him bleed out like a dead man. “No—” Your voice would barely come out as your throat was too dry to work. You worked mechanically and reached for the fabric of your dress, ripping as much as possible before using it to press it against Walter's wounds, forcing him to lie down in order to stop the bleeding. “Hey.” His call was soft and gentle unlike how he usually spoke to you. You hated it — you hated the way he kept whispering your name so softly as if he was ready to die in your arms. “Listen to me— listen.” Your hands, which were covered with Walter's blood, kept applying pressure on his sides and the fabric you were using, soaked red faster than you had calculated. It was only yesterday when you had asked him to walk you down the aisle and stay in your life forever — it was unfair. A bad trick of life.

“Sweetheart.” Your eyes shot up to his and his gaze was so gentle it hurt you, it broke down any facade you've been trying to maintain for the sake of him and then Walter smiled. “You will take the stairs up and turn left, there's an emergency exit..” You stared at him in disbelief but he did not stop. “The door works, I tested it. As soon as you're out of here, you will round the building and everything ends. Help is coming—” He coughed and you flinched at the amount of blood that came out of his mouth. This couldn't be happening. “No—” Walter cut you off despite his struggle. “Yes. Yes you will.” His hands cupped your face shakily and you could smell the blood from his stained hands, his blood. You cried harder than ever while Walter simply smiled and spoke to you like a kid, his thumb rubbing circles across your bruised cheeks. It hurt him that he couldn't offer you more comfort at that moment because of his wounds and it hurt even more that you were crying because of him — but he understood now. It was a natural reaction to cry and feel upset when you were about to lose someone important to you. Walter understood that now. He did not mind when you lowered yourself to the ground next to him and laid by his side, your hand always pressuring his wounds with your blood soaked dress. Walter huffed, unable to laugh because of the pain. “You silly girl, still not following orders properly.” You smiled through your tears as you simply laid there next to him, one of Walter's arms carefully sliding around your waist and holding you close. Your ear was conveniently pressed against his chest, hearing his slow heartbeat.

You were scared. “I’m scared.” Walter whispered as if expressing your thoughts out loud but it was just his own. You tilted your head back to look at him, his blue eyes meeting yours. His voice was hushed and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I have never been scared of death but I'm scared now. If I die,I will not see you again.” Your lungs struggled to breathe for a moment as you processed his word. Walter was opening up to you. To you. “I didn't care before but it's different now. Nothing is the same. Because of you I—” “I don't want to fucking die. Not like this. Not yet.” His other hand was still cradling your cheek, tracing the bruises on your soft skin. How could it be so soft even after all this junk? Walter forced out a laugh. “You still owe me coffee. And I need to teach you shit... Like uno, you suck at it.” He grumbled and you lifted a shaky hand of your own to cup one side of his face while smiling at him — or trying to. He immediately leaned into it and although the unbearable pain urged him to close his eyes,he did not cave in to such will. “I...I know.” It was the only reply you could offer while pressing harder against his wound. It would not stop bleeding. Walter winced but kept his eyes on you as if this was his only anchor — and it was. At least he had you like this and not someone else. The distant sound of police cars and ambulances caught your attention and you perked up, your smile turning a little more genuine. “Help is here. You'll be okay,Walter. It's—” His cheek felt colder against your hand and when you turned to look at him his blue eyes were merely responsive ; Walter’s arms gave out and collapsed on the ground, unable to hold you any longer. “No.”

You could hear the commotion and voices of people looking for you, for him, but you were too busy pulling him to your chest and holding him tightly as his breathing slowed dangerously. “Walter.” Your voice was as shaky as your hands and he could hear it but faintly. There were so many things he needed to say, so many things he needed to do and confess but this was something that fit him too for being too cowardice and reserved around you — for not doing enough, he thought. “Walter.” He heard noises and people approaching,he heard your heartbeat from where his ear was pressed against your chest and then he simply dreamt.