#but i am VALID and ive relistened to the whole podcast

[honeylikewords]

You know why I’m here. Let’s hear it.

thank you for your service, cydney, you are so brave in sacrificing yourself so as to allow me to Infodump about my Angel, Walter Cruz, whomst I love so dearly and so well

so anyway silly stuff aside I’m going to now reply using proper capitalization and punctuation so as to make this post somewhat legible (since I know my rambling will be... dense), so HERE WE GO

This is Walter Cruz.

Well... sort of.

Technically speaking, we never see Walter Cruz. So there are no gifs of him. And, technically speaking, that’s a gif of Oscar in Operation Finale, but, in my defense, that particular style and facial expression is generally how I headcanon Walter as looking. But that’ll get explained later. For now, I should just say that, yes, technically, we never see Walter’s face. Still, I know what he looks like, because that face up there is the face behind the voice we hear in Gimlet Media’s Homecoming, a podcast wherein stars my dearest, darlingest Walter Cruz, as played by Oscar Isaac.

Walter Cruz is a 26-year-old Army soldier coming home to the U.S. after three tours with the military, most recently having been stationed in North Africa. He has been brought to Tampa, Florida, and is staying at a rehabilitation center for soldiers with post-traumatic stress disorder, the center being tied to the Geist company’s Homecoming Initiative, a privately-funded but governmentally connected initiative that he doesn’t fully understand, but assumes is friendly and in place to help him re-adjust to civilian life, as he was told was the purpose of the center. 

The podcast is comprised of audio clips from recordings of Walter’s sessions with his therapist at the Homecoming Initiative, Heidi Bergman, as well as outside audio clips, such as phone calls between Heidi and her boss, Heidi’s boss and his own boss, dialogue between Heidi and others, et cetera. Heidi Bergman is, by default, the protagonist, but at the heart of the show is Walter, and what’s happening to Walter at the Homecoming Initiative.

I don’t want to give away too many spoilers in case people want to listen to the show (it’s a total of twelve podcast episodes, each one approximately 30 minutes in length, which you can listen to here), but we as listeners slowly start to realize that the Homecoming Initiative may not be as well-intentioned as it makes itself seem, and that Walter is in danger from manipulative medical practitioners, an abusive system of experimentations taking place on him, and may be being medicated in a way he neither consented to nor needs. So, for anyone for whom that may be a trigger, please go in carefully!

Now, on to more stuff about Walter on a personal level.

Walter is very sweet and down-to-earth, very humble. Within the first few moments of hearing his voice, we know he’s unassuming, protective of his friends, and understanding of the difficulties in other people’s lives, being very empathetic and caring. He speaks in a gentle tone, and while not necessarily loquacious or excessively talkative, he’s clearly intelligent and thoughtful, finding careful ways to explain himself to others. 

Walter loves animals, particularly dogs. He loves telling jokes and playing little pranks, often being a little bit of a tease, but only ever in a loving, playful way. He knows when to stop messing around and be serious, and has a very level head on his shoulders. Still, he has a warm, friendly sense of humor that seems to naturally bleed into everything he says, as if he’s always a few words away from trying to make someone smile. Plus, he has a wonderful laugh; kinda breathy, like he’s trying to stay quiet, but as it builds into something bigger and fuller, his voice comes in and it’s just so warm and fluttery.

Walter loves road trips and believes they’re essential to getting to know one’s partner as their truest self. He wants to be an accountant once he leaves the military. He likes pineapple cobbler and camping. He doesn’t like Titanic, but he’s seen it more times than any normal person has. He has sisters and a mother who he lived with after being discharged from the Homecoming Initiative, and who he loves more than anyone in the world. He has a dog named Sammy, who loves to eat bacon.

Walter loves Yosemite National Park and, without giving away too much, there is good reason for me to believe that Walter spent a great deal of his time after the events of the Homecoming Initiative in a cabin in Yosemite. I like to imagine he climbed Half Dome Hill without a permit.

Walter is also headstrong, determined, not always one to follow rules, full of hope, and almost a little naive. He believes in the best of people, and many bad, bad people use that against him. He wants to help people and do good, and live a life of love and togetherness. He cares more about the problems of others than his own problems and will gladly put himself aside to do anything for someone else.

That being said, because of his generosity of spirit and trusting attitude, Walter’s... Walter’s been through a lot. A lot of people have used him for the wrong things and abused him, and for a very long time, particularly immediately after being discharged from Homecoming, he couldn’t even take care of himself, as he was so damaged by the abuse. He’d been lied to, psychologically manipulated, physically manipulated, and medically abused to the point where he could not so much as even tie his shoes and was in, essentially, a catatonic state for several months. 

But he, somehow, even through all of that, came out the other side as strong, hopeful, and charitable as ever. Clever, quick-witted, and tender. The same Walter, unbroken, just bruised. He’s very brave, very kind, and so sweet it aches.

I don’t want to give away any spoilers, but I probably will, eventually, just so I can accurately describe all of Walter’s experiences when I write about him, but this next portion of the post is going to be speculative stuff about his life after the events of Homecoming as a narrative, so I’ll try to step carefully around any major spoilers while also integrating his story arc accurately (or, well, as accurately as I want. I’m the boss, here, and I’m valid to want to give him a soft ending!). 

Anywhomst.

I love to imagine Walter and his sweetheart in Yosemite. While his first trip there was so he could heal and take time away from being Walter Cruz, case-patient, and instead be Walter Cruz, normal nobody, and therefore likely wouldn’t be a good time for him to be in a romantic relationship, I like to think he’d come back there in the future, once he’s more at ease, ready to be in this relationship. In fact, the two of them choose to live just outside of Yosemite when they decide to move in together.

It’s only a few hours from Bakersfield, where his mother, Gloria, lives, after all, and he could come visit her every now and then. He knows, now, that it’s hard to live with her-- not because he doesn’t love her or because she doesn’t love him-- but because, for her, the past will always be visible on him, like a stain he’ll never manage to fully wash away, and he wants to let the past go and feel clean, and be seen for his present and future potential instead of just the pain of the past.

That’s why, when Walter falls in love, he feels so... different. 

He’d grown so tired of everyone looking at him and seeing Walter Cruz, soldier, Walter Cruz, Homecoming Initiative victim, Walter Cruz, human vegetable. And he felt like everyone who had known him before was so fixated on why he wasn’t the exact same boy he’d been when he was 19 that they wouldn’t let him move on from his pain, forcing him to stagnate in it.

But she doesn’t make him feel like that. 

She met him long after Homecoming, more than five years later. He still has episodes, of course, spans of days where he can’t figure out if the things he thinks are dreams or memories or erased half-memories of things that happened, or if he’s missing something important, but she never judges him, never forces him to speak. It never makes her change her mind about him.

She’s not a therapist or a doctor or some prying caseworker trying to coax his life out of him as if it’s a state secret they’re entitled to knowing; she’s just a woman who loves him, adores him, holds him close at night and lets him squeeze her and bury his head in her neck like a little child, safe from the world, safe from anyone trying to drain him of himself. 

He fell in love with her because she makes him laugh; he hadn’t really laughed in so long, and then she happened. She makes him smile, makes him feel normal and accepted, light and free. She doesn’t treat him like fragile glass or like some manila envelope to be wrenched open and shaken for its contents. She doesn’t push him to talk about anything he doesn’t want to, which is why, in a roundabout way, he talks to her the most.

Out of everyone he’s had to talk to-- his mother, his therapists, his doctors, the federal agents, the cops-- she knows the most. In fact, she kinda knows everything. Everything he knows, he’s told her. He spread it out over time, letting her in slowly, the details falling into place organically over time as she pieced together the truth from the strands of information Walter willingly gave her, but the truth is, she doesn’t care about the Geist corporation, or Homecoming, or Heidi Bergman. She only cares about Walter.

It’s not that she doesn’t care that he suffered-- of course she cares-- but rather that she doesn’t care about the conspiracy, the facts, the X-Files-esque ‘unveiling’ of the gritty details: she only cares about taking care of Walter, and helping him move on, leaving all the scum and garbage that ever hurt him behind. He’s not a case to crack or a puzzle to solve, he’s someone she loves, just the way he is, no matter what. She knows he’ll never be ‘all better’, healed of every wound inflicted by these monsters, but she wants him to be able to grow and live a life beyond what came before. It’ll always be there, in his past, but it doesn’t have to always be where he is in his present.

And Walter loves her all the more for this alleviation.

They live just outside Yosemite, a ways away from any cities, in a nice, quiet place. Walter was insistent on a cabin, and it works out well for both of them. Sammy has plenty of room to run and chase squirrels and rabbits and birds, and Walter’s got lots of quiet and calm to keep himself from getting too stressed. His sweetheart and he love to take long hikes into the park, having their own special little spots all throughout the park, locked in Walter’s memories for different reasons.

One outcropping of rocks overlooking the valley was where they had a romantic picnic, one where Walter laid his head in her lap and just closed his eyes and let himself feel okay, safe in her hands. Another place is the base of Bridalveil Falls, where he’d held her from behind and rested his head on her shoulder, the spray of the falls brushing his face as he kissed her cheek, allowing himself to smile and be happy with someone he adores. 

He likes to tease her about the name, Bridalveil Falls, wondering if she’d ever be the bride of Bridalveil Falls, asking if she’d like to have a veil train as long as the sheet of water that tumbles down those cliffs. Walter plays it off as a joke, but he knows why he watches her face carefully as he makes that ‘joke’, he knows why he leans in closer, listens for every possible interpretation of her words, for the delicate meaning of her inflections in her answers.

He does, deeply and truly, long to know if she’ll marry him.

Walter’s always been one to commit himself to what he believes in. He stands firm and fast by what he wants, and he knows what his heart wants. It wants her, now and forever; she’s his someone to lean on in his darkest hours, and his someone to uplift with the strength he knows he can only garner through his love for her. She means the world to him, and she makes it easier to live in his painful, confusing, ephemeral plane of existence.

So, he tells himself that when the time is right, and the stars align just the way he wants, he’ll ask her. He probably won’t wait long at all-- lord knows he loves her too much to practice anything even remotely close to self-control-- but he’ll wait just enough to let her know that he’s not off his rocker, not manically suggesting this to her on a whim. Walter wants her to know it’s real, it’s honest, it’s earnest, and it’s true: he loves her, and wishes to spend all his life building on that love.

Nowadays, he works as an accountant. He likes the work: it’s simple, steady, solid, and he’s good at it. It leaves him lots of time, too, to wander the park, or around his house, or in the small town they live in just outside Yosemite. He likes it, as well, when he and his sweetheart stay in for a day, just curled up together in the cabin, holding each other close, hovering near each other if they have to move around.

They still go on trips, though. Long, long road trips, with Walter behind the wheel and his beloved by his side, talking and reading and listening to music, but mostly, just being together, even when it becomes quietly tense to realize they’re in the middle of nowhere with someone (who they assuredly do love) and it’s awkward and uncomfortable yet somehow so natural and as it was meant to be, the frustration of the road melting into the comfort of being together.

He likes to stay up just a little bit later than her when they get to the hotel room, watching her fall asleep. It makes him feel something gentle and protective inside of himself, because he sees her resting there, by his side, and knows she trusts him enough to be so vulnerable in his presence. She trusts him to keep her safe through everything, and he appreciates it. Plus, she’s cute when she sleeps; he likes a little snoring and turning from her when they’re in bed, since he was used to the sound of his platoon all snoring like chainsaws at night.

It’s a good life he has, now. He sees his mom regularly, he has a woman in his life who he loves beyond his own capacity to put into words, he has a home and a job and a sense of existing in his own body as himself, not as anyone else’s puppet or playing or practice experiment. His dog loves him, and he gets to eat as much cobbler as he wants (he’s even tried his hand at baking his own, though he prefers baking them together with his darling).

And it feels good to stop trying to outrun himself, to stop chasing this invisible thread he hoped would lead him out from the labyrinth of his own mind. He has to live with who he is, but he can live with that and also live with others. He can live with the people who love him and want him to be safe and happy and wholly cared for. And no one can ever take away his innate goodness, not even himself, not even if he tried.

So he’s happy, in the understated way truly happy people are; he’s not always giddy and gleeful, nor exactly “happy”, but he’s content, and even when he’s in pain, he’s not alone. He’s loved, and love endures everything. Loved and not alone. That’s all he could ask for. So, perhaps, he’s not simply ‘happy’, whatever that means: he’s well. And all is well.