13 Kill Screen
"This neighborhood's nothing but abandoned buildings and warehouses" Cabe said, looking around.
"Yea, plenty of places to hide" Walter replied, before suddenly realising, "Oh, this looks familiar. So you got the bridge, you got dozens of factories, you got this café… We're in the game".
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Nate and Calvin designed the first level based on what they knew best" He explained, "What they were looking at every day and night while they were coding in that café".
"So if Calvin's gonna hide, this is the perfect spot" Cabe finished, "No one knows this area better than he does".
Damnit! Walter paced back and forth, knowing that he had to come up with a solution and fast.
"... Except Ralph. He knows the game, which means he knows this area like the back of his hand".
Sometimes eidetic memories came in handy, after all.
"If we're gonna find Calvin before he leaks that CIA intel, Ralph has to play that game again and lead us to him".
Cabe didn't too happy with that assessment, but right now, they didn't have much time to argue.
"... Call Paige".
Walter tapped his earpiece as they started heading back towards the entrance of the warehouse district, one-hundred-percent certain that Paige would not be onboard with the plan. And if she wasn't onboard, then there was no way that Drew would be either.
"Are you kidding?" She exclaimed, "This morning, that game landed him in a room with federal agents".
"It's the only way to find this guy in time" He explained, jogging down the sidewalk.
"We only got a half dozen people searching, and it's a massive search area" Cabe agreed.
"But right now, we need an advantage, and that advantage is Ralph".
There was a pause, before Drew's voice appeared distantly over the radio.
"I thought he was never playing that game again".
And I thought you were never going to disrupt Ralph's life again, Walter huffed sardonically.
Two-point-one minutes later, they agreed.
"Okay, Walter, Ralph's in the game" Sylvester announced, thankfully having taken the radio from Paige and her… paramour.
"Copy".
"The best way for us to help you is to pinpoint your exact location, go to that same spot in the game, and guide you" Sly explained, "And, Walter, you need to hurry, because there's a countdown clock with six new levels coming in 19 minutes and 50 seconds. We need to catch Calvin before they're released".
Like he didn't know.
"Alright, well, we're on the east side of Angel Street outside a factory" Cabe said, looking around them.
"What color is it?"
"Uh, it's gray and white" Walter said.
"That one has a hidden entrance".
"Look for an alley straight ahead. The AC grate on the north side by the telephone poles, enter there" Sly said, following the blueprints. Walter and Cabe shared a look before they both took off running.
"It accesses a lower level you can't get to from the main floor" Ralph explained, "I'm playing that level now".
Cabe pulled the metal grating from the secret door with a grunt, and Walter crouched down to examine it.
"Calvin's got to be hiding in there. Look alive".
He nodded, "Alright, we're heading in".
They crawled in through the small space, and Cabe immediately drew his weapon.
"Did you find hallway PW-99?" Sly asked.
"Yea, it's where you said it would be".
"This floor has the most hiding places" Ralph said, "They should go southeast".
"Okay, guys, you heard him".
Walter turned as Cabe started making his way down the hallway. It was dimly lit and abandoned and dusty and not too unlike the prime location of a horror movie. Once they caught Calvin, they were out of here.
*BANG*
He jumped and spun around just as Cabe fell to the floor, and their perp took off running.
"Hey!" Walter rushed over, "Cabe, Cabe, you okay?"
"Yea, I'm good" He grunted, clutching his head, "Let's go catch that son of a bitch".
If Calvin hadn't made it personal before, he sure as hell had done so now.
Jogging up the stairs, Walter came out into an empty room.
"Alright, he headed south. I need a shortcut".
"According to Ralph, look for a door on your left marked 6-5-9" Sly replied, "That's how Calvin would escape".
He turned around in every direction before finally spotting the fading grey paint on one of the doors.
"Got it. Got it!"
"Okay, head through the opening in the fence, and hang a right. You should catch up to him there".
He shoved open the door, followed Sylvester's directions and then immediately slid to a stop.
"Is this my only way out?"
"It's the fastest".
Walter stared at the pitch black hole below him.
"Guys… Guys, I'm looking at a… a rather large drop. It's unknown depth. It's, uh…" He shook his head, Yea, no… it's too far to jump".
"You can jump down and walk across" Ralph said, like it was as simple as that.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. It's only a seven-foot drop. I can tell by how the graphics are composited".
Which was fair, and Walter believed him, really, he did, because the kid was a genius and hadn't been wrong before but… but this was his life he was risking, and he could remember only all too well the last lecture Cabe had given him about personal safety.
"I can't see the bottom. It could be seven feet or seventy. Now, are you sure, Ralph?"
"Scoop".
"What?"
"It's about a scoop of ice cream after school" Paige explained quickly, "He- He'd make me "scoop swear" that we'd actually go. It's the strongest promise he can make".
"... Okay" He replied, "I trust you, Ralph".
Taking a deep, he took three steps back, made a running start, and plummeted into the pitch blackness below.
The second he landed, he knew something was wrong.
He landed in half a foot of water, splashing it over his clothes and face and hair, but above that noise, he heard another, far more sickening popping sound, and his right leg went out from under him.
"Walter?"
A sharp pain shot through his ankle, and the more weight he put on it, the worse that it got. He could still move his foot, and his toes too, so it wasn't broken, but-
"Are you okay?!"
-but he had a criminal to catch so any further diagnosis could wait.
"Yea" He bit out, hoping that they'd put his sudden breathlessness down to running and not pain, "Thanks to Ralph".
He hobbled further along before climbing over a wall and landing heavily on his left-side. Up ahead, he saw Calvin dash towards the doors, and knew that there was no way he could run to catch up.
"I got a visual. He's fast".
"You can stop him" Ralph encouraged, "There should be a lever in front of you. It opens the storage bay in front of the exit".
Which meant no more running.
"I see the lever".
That was convenient.
"Pull it! Pull it now!"
He yanked down on the piece of metal, hard, throwing his entire weight into it. Up ahead, there was a low rumble, before Calvin turned back to him, wobbled, and fell off the other side with a bang.
"Did it work?"
He hobbled towards the storage bay, wincing every time he put pressure on his right leg. Below him, Calvin lay in a groaning heap on the storage bay floor.
"Walter?" Sly asked, clearly worried.
"Yea" He smiled, "It worked".
An hour later, they were back at HQ. Cabe was drowning in Homeland and CIA paperwork, so he had one of the local PDs give Walter a lift home. The man hadn't asked any questions on why he was moving so weird, and for that, he was grateful. Now, however, the pain was starting to multiply as his adrenaline wore off, and he could feel the burning on his skin that could only mean inflammation.
Walter didn't like doctors by default; none of them did. A team like his couldn't grow up without being subjected to pokes and prods by so-called concerned parents and teachers, so none of them had a good background with medical professionals. Luckily for him, however, they had one such medical professional on their side, and Walter realised that now would probably be a good time to go make use of that fact.
"You're really going at that thing, huh?" He asked, passing Sly as he solved the rubix cube over and over again.
"It calms me" He replied, looking up, "After today... calm is good".
He smiled and continued awkwardly hobbling over to Toby, not wanting to make Sly panic but at the same time knowing that there was no way in hell he could put his full weight on his leg right now.
"Hey, E.R. doc called" Toby greeted, "Looks like Nate's gonna make it".
"You know… no one on this team could've pulled off what you did today. Well done" Walter praised, knowing it was out of character for him but that the older man deserved it.
Toby nodded, looking ever-so-slightly flustered, before looking away again.
Now it was make it or break it time.
"So, hey" Walter started, unsurely, "Speaking of… doctors…"
Toby's gaze immediately snapped to his, and a split second later he was on his feet.
"You're not dying, are you? Tell me you're not dying!"
His sudden demand was loud enough for Sylvester to hear, and he dropped the rubix cube in a panic.
"What? Dying? Who's dying? Walter, are you dying?!"
"No! No, Sly, guys, I'm not- I'm not dying!" He exclaimed, "What the hell gave you that idea?!"
"Because you're injured, clearly, you wouldn't have brought up the subject of doctors if you weren't" Toby shot back, "But you never tell me when you're injured, never! I always have to battle you for the information or- or find you half-dead or something, so the fact that you're actually telling me now-"
"-means it's incredibly serious" Sly finished, very obviously panicking, "Walter, please don't tell me you're dying!"
He looked between them in shock and disbelief and maybe the slightest bit of hysteria.
"... I'm not dying".
"Oh god, you're in denial" Toby groaned, "Look at me, 197, it's gonna be okay, alright? We'll get through this, all of us, whatever you need, the team's here for you, okay?"
He suddenly stepped forwards and pulled him into a tight hug. A second after that, Slyvester wrapped his arms around both of them as well. Walter stood there, being squished to death, and tried to recall just how exactly he ended up in this situation.
"So, what is it, kid?" the doctor asked, "Cancer? Brain tumour? Lung disease? What do you have that's going to take you from us so soon?"
"A sprained ankle" He replied, dryly, wondering just how the hell this was his life.
"Oh god!" Toby wailed, "A sprained-"
He stopped, tensed up, and then slowly pulled back until there was an inch of space between their faces.
"... A sprained ankle?"
They were close enough for Walter to see the flecks of green in his eyes.
"I landed pretty hard after I jumped off that platform" He replied calmly, "Think I twisted it".
There was a beat of silence before-
"You idiot! I thought you were dying!" He yelled, stepping back once Sly let them go.
"Not cool, Walter!"
"Hey! I said nothing about dying!" He protested, "It was you two idiots who came to that conclusion all on your own!"
"You didn't dissuade us!"
"Yes, actually, I did! You thought I was in denial!"
"You-" Toby paused, "... Oh, right".
Sly sniffed and tried to subtly wipe the tears from his glasses as he picked his rubix cube up off the floor. Happy stood in the doorway and appraised the scene with a baffled expression.
"... Everything alright in here?"
Walter shrugged, "They thought I was dying because I've actually been listening to Toby and Cabe's lectures".
"Oh… Okay then. Fair enough" She nodded, "You good?"
"Sprained ankle" He admitted, "Apparently it's terminal".
She snorted and that finally seemed to snap Toby out of it.
"Alright, you" He started, pointing at Sly, "Go get the first aid kit. Happy, I need an ice pack, and you, 197… you better sit down before I knock you down. Or you fall over. Whichever comes first".
Walter smirked but did as told, glad to take the weight off his leg.
"Which is it?" Toby asked, kneeling down in front of him.
"Right".
He nodded and carefully picked up his foot, turning his ankle this way and that until Walter hissed.
"Okay, well, the good news is, you were right about the sprain. Nothing broken, nothing fractured… Just a good ole fashioned twisted ankle. How high up was that platform?"
"Seven feet" He replied, "But I couldn't see the ground so I might have overcompensated my landing".
"You think?" He shot back, poking his leg.
Walter whacked his hand away with a wince.
"You know, something occurred to me. For your rocket" Toby said, going back to his poking and prodding, "With trauma wounds, the body protects the head and the heart and the gut by focusing blood flow in those areas, just like Nate's body did today. So, with your rocket, what if you adjusted fuel flow the same way? Cover the injector head with a metal plate that's perforated with holes, like stab wounds. Covering more or fewer of the holes will allow for a variable fuel flow and… increase throttleability".
Walter hummed, "That's a good idea".
He grinned, "I got a million of them".
"Including thinking a sprained ankle is fatal?" Happy teased, returning with an ice pack in her hands. She tosses it to Walter who caught it gratefully.
"Hey! He has never willingly told me that he was hurt before! What was I supposed to think?!"
"That I'm a genius with an IQ of 197" Walter retorted, "Eventually, I learnt that you and Cabe were right".
"Oh my god, Happy mark the date. Walter O'Brien just confessed that I was correct and he was wrong".
"Actually, I never said I was wrong".
Toby poked his ankle again in retaliation.
"Shut it, kid. God, once I tell Cabe he's gonna want to take a family photo. The day you finally listened to us. It's gonna go down in the history books".
"I'll put you down in the history books!"