"walt becomes blind because of the war, but it doesn't put a strain in his relationship with nate. his only wish is that he can see nate's face again..."
it’s been an adjustment. a big one. walt’s world is reduced to sound, touch, taste, and barely there blurs of light in front of his face. it’s a drastic change for someone used to having nearly perfect vision their entire life. also for someone used to being able to do everything on their own now having to rely so heavily on others.
nate’s been there though. he was there when walt woke up, he was the one to tell walt why he couldn’t see, he was the one to offer his apartment to walt. walt’s world had narrowed down to nate, with occasional appearances from ray, brad, and mike.
without his sight, walt loses track of time and days. the first months are the hardest, filled with frustration, yelling, tears, and bruises.
his honorable discharge comes in about two months in.
maybe five months in, things are getting better. walt’s used to the layout of nate’s place, used to having nate guide him around. it backslides when walt goes out with ray one day, because ray forgets that walt can’t see, forgets he needs to guide walt. walt doesn’t blame ray, but it’s still a set back.
it’s eight months when things start to change between walt and nate. it’s when walt’s nightmares start. vivid and realistic and…for a lack of a better term, blinding. walt wakes up screaming three nights in a row. the fourth night, nate lets walt stay in the bed with, curls around him like he’s trying to protect him. the nightmares don’t come.
at ten months, walt doesn’t need as much help as before, has adapted - like any good marine, starts learning braille, starts learning how to walk with a stick. it’s hard, especially in public places because other people are unpredictable, but he adjusts.
it’s been a year before things between him and nate really change. walt is longing for his sight, wanting to see the seasons change, wanting to watch a movie, wanting to look at nate’s face. he’s running his fingers over nate’s face, bringing up images in his head from iraq. he rubs his thumb along nate’s lower lip, following the full curve over it. he isn’t sure who leans in, who closes the space, but the kiss is soft, gentle, and it’s everything walt has needed since he woke up in the hospital with bandages wrapped around his head.
