A/N: This is a short one-shot based off of Adele's "Someone Like You". This occurs 2-3 years after the Scorpion season 2 finale, so don't read this if you have yet to see the S2 finale. Spoilers!
Walter stuffed his hands awkwardly into his dress pants pockets and pursed his lips, observing the bride and groom's first dance.
He can't even move to the tune of the song, he thought sardonically before catching himself. He knew that Tim was better; that was why Paige had so eagerly accepted his proposal. Paige's lively eyes caught his as Tim slowly turned her around the clear hardwood floor, and Walter abruptly swung away. Her gaze was like a fresh brand upon a cow's shoulder, marring his already scarred heart. True, his heart was not physically scarred; he was in optimal physical health except for the sudden tight-chested sensation he was now experience. He rubbed the back of his neck and turned to find Ralph.
The young genius was sitting quietly with Toby and a very pregnant Happy. Walter cleared his throat and eased himself down in the empty seat at the circular table.
"The, ah, lighting in this room isn't the best," Walter commented in an attempt to start a conversation. Toby was staring at him intently, and he knew what kind of a lecture would await him if he didn't force a different conversation. "Is it, Ralph?"
"It isn't sufficient for those photographers," the boy agreed quietly, nodding and sucking in his bottom lip. "Walter, he doesn't understand me."
Walter's throat constricted. He wasn't only losing Paige, but he was also losing the opportunity to help Ralph understand who he was born to be, and somehow, it made everything worse. "He will, okay? Just give him time. You have my cell phone number; no matter how many states away you are, I'll always be there for you."
"Yep, your creepy uncle Walt whose advice may not be accepted," Toby commented, snarky, and Happy slapped his forearm a little too hard. "Ow! What was that for?"
"You know," she rolled her eyes.
"But he isn't my uncle," Ralph said. His slim face was going vacant, and Walter knew he was dipping into his own world. Walter knew what it was like; he was there already and didn't want Ralph to do the same. "He isn't family anymore, and he never will be. He won't always be there, it's illogical and a waste of worthwhile time to be constantly available to someone-"
"Hey," Walter shook his head and rubbed a hand over his mouth, trying to think of what to say. He wanted Ralph to hate him, to never want to see him again. But he also knew that it would just hurt an already injured child, and while he was typically seen as a heartless machine, he was neither that nor an advocate for breaking an already fragile child. "Tim isn't so bad. He's really understanding and has been a really good person on the team. Remember that time he saved that entire town because he followed Happy's directions to hack a power grid?"
"Yeah, so?" Ralph asked. "Just because he can understand directions doesn't mean he won't follow them, and I know he probably won't let you dictate how he should treat me. Excuse me." in his little suit and blue tie, he slipped out of his seat and headed away from the tables and his joyful mother both, heading towards the bathrooms.
"Don't follow him," Toby warned, "you'll only make it worse."
Happy nodded in agreement, though Walter stared at Toby with a mixture of anger and hopelessness. "The kid's gonna shut down if you keep throwing useless bits of life advice at him. He's going through a lot of changes right now, and you are a part of all of it. Just let him go."
Walter's gaze returned to Paige, then at the slowly-filling area he'd last seen Ralph. The dim, clear-Christmas-light atmosphere hid his pained expression, luckily. "I'm letting everyone go," he murmured tersely before standing back up and striding out of the building.
The garage was empty. Ralph was staying with Sylvester while Paige and Tim honeymooned; she had somehow known that it would be far too hard on both of them to babysit him for a week under such conditions.
"I'm going to ask Sly to watch Ralph, okay? That way, you won't...have to worry about anything," she had said, her voice trailing out to a murmur. Her eyes held it all: she didn't know he'd be broken over the wedding, but she knew he'd be more upset over Ralph leaving, and vice versa. Walter watching Ralph would be a wreck.
"Okay," Walter nodded. "That would be, ah, efficient, because he doesn't typically go on missions with us. Just, um, the technical...computer aspect," he said. He couldn't take his eyes off of the rosy glow on her cheeks. She was so happy, and he felt rather selfish for wanting her to look at him like that.
Walter shook his head and sprawled across the couch, uncertain whether he wished to be completely unfeeling or to wholly understand the emotional process he would be facing. He pondered this far into the night, his dark eyes boring a hole into the far metal wall opposite him.
In the early hours of the morning, Toby came tramping into the garage. "Hey, Walt! I know you're feeling pretty down, but-whoa, hey, did you even sleep, pal?" he plopped down beside Walter on the couch, setting his fedora on the coffee table in front of them.
"How could I?" Walter's voice was gravelly, and he cleared his throat in an attempt to rid himself of it. "She's gone, Toby."
"Yeah, well, I thought Happy was gone too, but we got the marriage thing worked out, and now she's expecting Little Peanut-"
Walter's eyes dropped to the metal band around Toby's ring finger. How they'd worked towards making that band a reality! How he'd listened to his endless drunken rambling, in which he'd given logical advice that had fallen on careless ears. And now all he could do was pridefully compare his love story to Walter's uselessness! "I'm not you, Toby, and Paige is not Happy! Get that through your head. I'm not a shrink, and she's-she's so normal she can't even see or understand when I..." he trailed off. How could he expect Paige to understand him, when he'd stammeringly and continually pressed her and Tim closer together? No, he realized he couldn't take it out on anyone else but himself. This was all his fault.
"Walter, I'm sorry, but-"
"No, I'm sorry." Walter stood up slowly, his lips firm. "This is my mess. Mine. I-I, ah, can't drag you into it. You warned me not to mess up, anyway, and I did. I-I-I practically threw her into his arms. No, it's my fault. I've...got to go." he tripped over the corner of the coffee table, turned, and pulled his car keys from off of it.
Toby shook his head and started to stammer nonsensically. "Hey, no-no, buddy, you're, heh, you're not gonna take the company car and wrap it around the side of a cliff like you did the last time you went driving when Paige upset you-"
"I won't-"
"Stop cutting me off, and hear me out," Toby said evenly. He wanted to grab his shoulders and yell, but knew it wouldn't do a blame thing. He yanked the car keys away from Walter and stuffed them in his own pocket: he wouldn't dive for them in there. When Walter advanced angrily, he held his hands up and backed away. "You can't blame yourself, you can't blame her, or me-or anyone. And hey-maybe you'll find someone like her later on."
"That's what everyone says," Walter shook his head and heaved an impatient sigh. He didn't want to be standing here; he didn't want to be anywhere in particular. His skin was crawling with frustration.
"And you can't go off to their hotel to disrupt their wedding night either, Walt-"
"I wouldn't. I just wanted to..." he trailed off. He felt as emotional as he'd ever been since Megan's death. His throat seemed set on strangling itself. "I just wanted to go on a drive and-and get away."
"You're a runner. It never helps either. You'll be a wreck for awhile, but it'll get better. It always does." Toby patted him on the back, guiding him back to the couch and making him sit down. "Black coffee, right? Happy's not coming in today - late night - so it's just you and me, pal. Therapy session number one."
Walter stared at his hands, folded in his lap, for a few minutes. Silence, except for the coffee maker slowly percolating, filled the garage. Finally, his choked voice spoke up once more. "I thought love was supposed to be a pleasant, fulfilling emotion."
Toby didn't return until he was carrying two coffee cups, which left a trail of steam and strong scent behind them. He sat down, handing him his coffee - he'd discreetly discarded the creamer Walter had always kept on hand for Paige- and sighing. "Buddy, sometimes it hurts instead."
