FIFTY SHADES OF GRAY MATTER
AN: This little plot bunny has been hopping around my brain for a couple of weeks. The Nicks said Walter recovering his memories would have 'fun' consequences, so this story will probably be AU by the time it's finished. I will stick as close to canon as I'm able, but I hope you'll stay with me if I can't. Waige doesn't start out in a good place. However, I will write them into one if it kills me! ;-D Enjoy and let me know what you think!
The niggling thoughts first started early that morning. They were like a vague dream floating just on the edge of consciousness that couldn't be remembered with any clarity. The more he tried concentrating on them, the more ephemeral they became. The only thing he knew with any certainty was the exact minute they began plaguing him. It happened when Paige removed her beige overcoat to drape it across the back of her chair. Somehow when she revealed the sleeveless, red shirt she was wearing and when that slight whiff of her perfume wafted toward him on the draft caused by her swinging coat, it triggered... something.
Walter initially dismissed the images as inconsequential with a shake of his head. But they continued to pester him at intervals throughout the rest of the day especially when Paige would cross his line of sight. He became more and more preoccupied with trying to capture and hang onto the fleeting impressions, but they always danced tantalizingly out of his reach. Trouble with memory recall was something a genius with a 197 IQ just didn't experience, so he was woefully ignorant of the phenomenon and was unsure how to handle it.
Some time toward the end of the day, Happy stalked over and punched Walter on the arm. She and Ralph had been trying and failing to get his attention for a while, both having called his name several times each.
Rubbing at the sore spot on his bicep and glaring at Happy, he griped, "Ow! What was that for?"
"The kid has a question for you and you've been all but catatonic today," Happy replied, unfazed by the indignant look on her boss's face.
"Ever heard of tapping someone on the shoulder?" He muttered at the mechanic's back as she returned to her work station.
Walter turned toward the grinning boy standing to the left of his desk. "What did you need, Ralph?" He asked.
The young genius handed his tablet to his mentor and said, "I was wondering if you would go over my solution to this problem. I think I have it right, but I'm not sure I did all the steps in the correct order. Happy was helping me because it has an engineering component, but she wasn't absolutely sure either, so we decided we needed your opinion on it."
Soon the closely-matched analytical minds were engrossed in the complicated equation, speaking a language only intelligible to the two of them. It usually consisted of an incomprehensible blend of physics, calculus, and coding jargon sometimes sprinkled with a dash of engineering references.
With all their awareness riveted on the intricate puzzle, the two geniuses didn't notice how closely Paige was watching them. She felt the old, familiar and currently unwelcome tug at her heartstrings. She didn't want to see how amazing Walter was with her son or how happy it made Ralph to have someone understand him so completely and so effortlessly. Not when she was trying so hard to stay mad. With Tim gone, it was getting tougher every day to maintain her irritation with Walter. And perpetuating the pretense of real passion or longing for her long-distance boyfriend was absolutely exhausting. She reminded herself firmly that Tim was good with Ralph too, doing her very best to delude her inner self back into submission. And she tucked the stubborn, tender feelings for Walter back to the dark corners of her heart where they belonged.
"Where did you run across this problem, Buddy? Is it for one of your college classes?" Walter asked Ralph after they felt certain they'd found the correct solution.
"I've received a number of these through my email account at Cal Tech. Each time I submit a right answer, I get another more complicated one a few days later. Here, I'll show you some of the others…"
"Ralph, get your things together. We have some errands to run," Paige interrupted, hating the guilt she felt when she saw the look of disappointment clouding both of their faces. Fortunately she could channel the negativity into the requisite impatience with Walter.
"Can't we stay a little longer?" Ralph all but begged, "It's still early. And we haven't gotten to be together in forever."
We can be together. Forever. The words resounded over and over in Walter's head as a passing image of Paige in a black dress sitting on a chaise swam around in the blurry background of his thoughts. But he couldn't quite make it come into focus. What the hell was wrong with him?
"What's wrong, Walter?" The liaison asked, jolting him out of his reverie.
"Oh, uh, nothing," he answered. He didn't feel as comfortable confiding in Paige since, well, since Tahoe really. And her responses to him after Tim left were even more like other normals had always treated him. In this case, he was afraid she might think he was going crazy. Especially considering Walter was afraid he might be going crazy himself.
Turning back to her son and looking at her watch, Paige said, "Ralph, we need to go shoe shopping. You've about outgrown every pair in your closet again. No more arguing. We'll see Walter tomorrow."
"Walter always orders his shoes online. I don't see why I have to go shopping..." Ralph grumbled belligerently under his breath in the tone of a typical pre-teen as if shopping was a torture worse than death. But he obediantly gathered up his things and reluctantly stuffed them in his backpack in spite of his rebellious grousing. He slouched to the door and turned to offer a dejected wave at the older genius who smiled sympathetically back.
As the door shut behind Paige and her son, something occurred to Walter. Ralph didn't understand enough yet to appreciate how he was his mother's whole world…
You are my whole world. I'm just a moon that orbits around you.
All at once the floodgates opened and there was no stopping the tidal wave of memories gushing into his awareness with sickening, mortifying clarity.