Chapter ten.
"So, what would you do, if you were me?" Tina asked after a few miles of silence.
Walter raised his eyebrows, "I was under the impression that I had informed you of my psychological precariousness, thusly ruling my comments void."
"Well, yeah," Tina said uncomfortably, "but…you're a doctor. You're smart. What would you do?"
Walter pondered a few moments, "Shoot Phil," he replied.
She snorted, "Are you serious?" she questioned, "I'd have never taken you for a an axe murderer."
"Not an axe. A revolver, preferably."
"Why?" Tina asked.
Walter frowned with concentration, "…I don't know. It just reminds me of something I've heard before. Some girl did just that…oh, yes, Olivia. Nice girl, you'd like her."
"Who's Olivia?" Tina asked. She had relaxed quite a bit, thinking the finalization of her crime behind her as they crossed county lines, Walter presumed.
"The agent I work with. A background much like yours, only younger. She shot her stepfather, I think. Very sad. But she's a good seed, I can see why Peter likes her." Walter opened the glove compartment, shuffling in it in search of candy he may have missed.
"…Did she kill him?" Tina asked.
Walter shook his head, "No, I don't believe so. He's still out there." He exclaimed as he found a peppermint, and paused, offering it to Tina, "Would you like this?"
Tina shook her head, and Walter shrugged, unwrapping the candy and popping it into his mouth, "when we get to New York," Tina said quietly, "Um… you can have the car back."
"Thank you. Are you certain you don't want to drive to Staten Island and light it on fire? I hear they do that, now. In which case, I would prefer to remove the luggage from the trunk. Then I'll help, if you want."
Tina shook her head, and Walter realized there were tears in her eyes, "Walter, I don't know what I'm doing," She confessed.
Walter busied himself with the glove compartment once more.
"I don't know where I'm going. I just had to get out of there- I don't even know where I'm going to stay, in New York. I don't know anybody, I dropped out of school… I just don't know what I-"
Walter paused from his musing of the dashboard, "Would you like me to kill Phil?" he questioned.
Tina looked shocked as her mascara ran down her cheeks, washing away the cover-up to reveal bruises, "What?!"
"Would you like me to kill Phil?" Walter repeated tonelessly.
"What-I- No! Why would you-?!" She stammered, growing angry, "That's not fucking funny!" she fell silent as he watched her, his cold blue gaze unwavering, "…You're serious. Holy shit, Walter- you are crazy."
"You can't do it yourself," Walter reasoned darkly, "Olivia couldn't either. But if you asked, I would do it. I am quite soulless, when it comes to such things."
"Why would you say something like that?!" Tina cried, hurriedly rubbing the tears away from her face, "How could you say something like that?! What is wrong with you?!"
Walter smirked slightly with his ominous reply, "I'm a sociopath. I rather enjoy killing myself; bad people, rotten in their souls."
"Walter, you're scaring me," Tina warned, chancing a frightened glance at him.
"That's just because you're sane," Walter assured her, settling back in his seat and sucking his mint, "but if it upsets you so, I'll let my offer pass." They sat in silence again.
"You would do that for me?" Tina said quietly.
Walter glanced at her, and nodded.
Tina nodded in return, slowing the car to take the off ramp, heading back in the direction they had come, "I don't think I'm sane either," Tina said gruffly, the rainwater reflecting in her eyes like tears in the glare of the headlights.
Walter felt his lips pull back from his teeth in a half-grin, half-snarl, like a predator showing its fangs in a gleeful display of power.
xXx
An incessant knocking on the hotel room door woke him. The knocking had turned to kicking, when he scrambled out of bed, stumbling over to open the door, "Hello…?" Peter questioned groggily.
"Hello, son," Walter replied softly. He pushed past Peter, into the room.
Peter blinked, and rubbed his eyes, wondering if he were dreaming, "Walter? What the hell…? What…?"
Walter tumbled onto the bed, jamming his thumb into his mouth as he curled into the fetal position, staring across the room at the wall.
"Walter, you're soaking wet," Peter said, stooping over him, "Are you alright? What happened?"
"Don't touch me," Walter hissed, slapping away the hand on his shoulder. He returned to sucking his thumb, glaring at nothing.
"Oh…kay," Peter replied. He moved to the window, pushing aside the curtains to look down at the car, parked in the nearly empty parking lot, "How did you…?" He turned to look back at his father.
Walter slept with his hands over his face, to hide the tears that escaped his eyes in his slumber.
xXx
"Walter…?" Astrid leaned over the listless doctor, touching his chest gently. His face twitched in his slumber, and Astrid flinched away, "Do I have to do this…?" she asked uneasily.
"He's attacked everyone else we've sent in," Olivia answered hastily from the doorway with Peter, "Just… poke him, or something!"
Wincing slightly, Astrid touched his chest again, "Um, doctor Bishop…?"
She was not fast enough to dodge his hand, as his fingers snapped around her wrist, his grip like iron. Astrid gave a small squeak, struggling away, but Walter overpowered her, hauling her onto the mattress beside him, holding her securely around the waist, "Coffee," He demanded without opening his eyes, "Coffee, and I let the girl go. Failure to meet my demands may result in casualties."
Olivia and Peter smiled quickly at one another, "We're on it," Peter answered, and the two darted away.
"Hey!" Astrid cried after them, "Help, dammit!" she swallowed, addressing Walter, "You're not going to inject me with something again, are you?"
He had fallen asleep again, his grip unwavering. "Walter…?" Astrid questioned, pushing on his arm.
"Shush." He mumbled.
"Your hands are covered with dirt!" Astrid exclaimed, repulsed.
"Dried mud," Walter corrected, "Now shush, I'm trying to sleep. Has anyone ever told you how comfortable you are…?"
Astrid squeaked again, struggling as a blush washed over her face. Soon, she settled back, sighing with spent effort, "Fine, you win," she grumbled. She crossed her arms across her chest, frowning at his arm around her middle, "What happened last night, anyways?" She grumped.
"You're the one in my bed, you tell me."
Astrid stuck him on the forehead with a laugh.
"Attempting to raise the white flag," Olivia called into the room, the Styrofoam coffee cup before her as a shield.
"Enter," Walter replied. He opened his eyes at last, sighing as he squinted, "I wish the world would just shut up, sometimes…"
"How are you feeling?" Olivia asked as he sat up, releasing Astrid as he took the cup, sipping carefully on the hot beverage.
"Alright."
Peter took a seat on the bed, checking his father's vitals, "I think he's just exhausted, Olivia," Peter mused, "But I'm sorry to say that we don't have the time to spend here. Every second we waste here is more time for that pattern case to just slip away."
"I was unaware my health was deemed trivial," Walter grumbled into his coffee.
"Hey, you don't get to say anything until you tell us what the hell happened last night," Peter replied sharply.
Walter watched his coffee in deep thought for a few moments, and sighed, "I've come to a decision, Peter. Perhaps you can help with this, Agent Dunham… after this is all over, this case in New Jersey… I-I want to go back to St. Claire's."
"No!" Astrid exclaimed suddenly, and Peter and Olivia sat in stunned silence.
"I am not well!" Walter hissed defensively, "And- and it's my decision! I get very little choices, and you cannot deny me this time!"
"You can't go back," Peter said quietly at last, "Now stop screwing around and get dressed. Everybody out." he rose, and left the room.
"You're not going to ignore me this time, Peter!" Walter called after him, "You're not in my head! You don't know what I do!"
"Walter, no…" Astrid whispered, tugging on his elbow.
"Come on, Astrid," Olivia said softly, leading her out of the room. The door shut with a pathetically submissive click.
Walter sat, glaring over at his smiling doppelgänger, "What are you smirking at, you son of a bitch?! I'm not you anymore!" he flung the cup of coffee at nothing with an agitated bark. He covered his face with his hands with a mournful sigh, "I'm not you anymore."
xXx