She didn't need him anymore.
That was Walter's first thought as he stepped onto the roof, Paige and Ralph's conversation just audible over the music she was playing. Ralph was glued to his telescope, listening intently to her and laughing. Three years with the geniuses was equivalent to a rigorous degree program, and in addition to Paige's own studies, and a few podcasts he recommended, she was rattling off facts with such ease that no one would imagine she'd ever struggled to forge a connection with her son.
That wasn't all his doing, of course. She had gotten farther on her own than any of their parents. He knew Paige beat herself up for misunderstanding Ralph, allowing him to retreat into his mind. But even before her life had been turned upside down that day at the diner, she'd sacrificed for Ralph, showed him incredible love and patience. That wasn't nothing. That was as much as any child could reasonably hope for.
It was easy to fall in love with her, knowing that. He saw so much—too much—of himself in Ralph, and every expression of affection he watched between them somehow eased the sting of his own past. Ralph was like a second chance. An opportunity to make his loneliness worthwhile, ensuring that the young genius wouldn't struggle the same way.
From the start, his concern for Ralph extended far beyond academics. But he didn't know how long it took him to realize that he'd gone from helping Paige relate to her son on an intellectual level to caring about their safety and wellbeing above all else. A weird, sudden, unexpected family that he'd never factored into his plans and couldn't live without. He fought it for a while, because how could someone like him take care of a family? How could he ever expect to be as good as they deserved?
That doubt wasn't entirely gone. He'd eased it enough to let them fully into his life, but he would never stop trying to be good enough for them. To make them as happy as they made him all the time.
He'd brought women into the garage, for a tour, for dinner. They never wanted to spend much time there and he never desired that either. The garage was his escape, his safe haven from the pressures of social interaction. It was a reflection of him, of everything he cared about, and a rejection of the garage was usually followed shortly thereafter by a rejection of him. But Paige was different. Walter had been surprised when she began spending several nights a week in his loft, without much discussion. He'd been even more surprised by how much he craved her presence. It didn't bother him not to have a separation between work and his personal life. It didn't bother him, despite his initial protests, to have her products take over his bathroom like an invasive species. It didn't bother him that she snored sometimes, or that he couldn't get out of bed as early when she was tangled up with him. It only bothered him when she was gone. The loft felt silent and bare in a way it never had before.
After the initial rush passed and he and Paige no longer needed to make love every night, Ralph had started staying over more, crashing in the Airstream after an intense video game battle or the completion of a project. Paige would make eggs or pancakes in the morning while Walter brewed coffee and Ralph set the table. For most people, there was nothing more mundane than that. But not to Walter. That kind of life never seemed meant for him.
Paige caught his eyes, offering him a bright smile. She had her hands on Ralph's shoulders and an expression that usually meant how amazing is my kid? And he was. Paige had every reason to be proud of him.
They'd been in almost that exact position dozens of times, and each one brought back the memory of Paige's first case with the team. Happy had been up there grilling while Cabe complained about his burger, but Paige and Ralph were in their own world, staring up at the night sky. He could still picture her smile as he gave her that first small piece of the puzzle, her first chance to speak to Ralph in his own language.
She didn't need him for that anymore. But he needed her more than ever.
Paige's eyes weren't on him as he slipped back to the garage, rifling through the desk in his loft for a piece of paper and a pen. The ink had barely dried when he reemerged on the roof, kissing Paige's temple as his arm slid around her waist. "Hey," he said quietly.
"Hey," she murmured, smiling at him again. Feeling a startling low level of trepidation, Walter handed her the paper, emotion clouding her eyes when she look back at him. "Are you sure?"
He was sure he would crumble if she said no, which seemed like enough confirmation for him. "Yes."
Paige pressed her lips together to tamp down a grin and cleared her throat, her eyes shining slightly. "Ralph?" Her son glanced up, his brows knitting in confusion at the sudden change in Paige's expression. "How would you feel about moving in with Walter?"
The young genius's response was borderline unintelligible as he jumped up and down, shouting and practically leaping up to hug them.
Paige shrugged and giggled, wrapping an arm around her son as she brought her other hand to Walter's cheek. "Well," she said, kissing him softly. "I guess that's a yes."