I want to write a fix-it fic. Eventually. But I'm not quite there. I wanted (still want) to see Walter stick up for himself a bit more. Y'all know I love Waige, but the stuff Paige said was terrible. So this is still a therapy fic, of sorts, for anyone who needed this like I did. It's just a one-shot for now, possibly could turn into a full fic, we shall see.
He felt her walk into the garage before he saw her.
It was hard to describe, but he'd spent three years pretending that Paige entering the office every morning wasn't the highlight of his day. He would keep his focus on his computer, offering her a brief hello and a smile if he was feeling bold. Just enough to be polite, but far short of what he truly wanted.
But he always felt her. Felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Felt his heart thump. He never enjoyed the sensation, per se. It felt like cardiac arrest. But in the month since she'd quit, he had grown to miss it.
"Walter." She came to a stop in front of his desk, waiting for him to look up. He didn't.
"What are you doing here?" he asked in a clipped tone that she would have reprimanded him for in any other context. But she wasn't his liaison anymore. She wasn't his anything anymore.
Paige sighed, resting her fingerprints gently on his laptop and pushing it closed. "I came to thank you," she said quietly. "You saved my life. The CDC said I would've been infected if you hadn't gotten me out of that room when you did."
Walter swallowed. Seeing Paige in danger had triggered an instinctual reaction. Just because she was no longer a part of his life didn't mean she deserved to lose hers. Ralph didn't deserve that.
Another case stolen by Team Centipede. It had been pure coincidence that the job Scorpion 2.0 was working intersected at a crucial juncture. Cabe called it fate. That was clearly nonsense.
"Walter," she said again, a little hesitant. The genius opened a file on his desk—some invoice she would have taken care of weeks ago, if she'd been around—to avoid meeting her eyes. He wasn't sure what he would see. Or what he might do. "Walter, don't make this difficult."
Sure, because everything is my fault. Always. "You're welcome," he muttered, well aware of how utterly miserable he sounded. "There. You've said what you came to say."
She was quiet. The breaths he was taking weren't nearly enough to combat the tightness in his chest and he was desperate for her to walk away so he could regain some sense of equilibrium. This—her weaving in and out of his orbit—was somehow a thousand times more difficult than if she'd disappeared for good.
"I…" Paige trailed off, taking a moment before she started again. "I know things are bad, Walter. I don't know if I'm ready to talk about it yet. But I don't like this, either. Can you at least acknowledge that I'm grateful for what you did today? Because I am."
"It's been acknowledged. I don't know what else you want me to say."
Paige huffed out a sound of frustration, dropping her palms down on his desk. "God, if you hate me so much, why did you bother saving me at all?" she snapped.
Hated her? Did he really think he was acting this way because he hated her? "I'm not the one who left," he grumbled irritably, flexing his fingers against the edge of the folder. "You abandoned me, and you tried to take away the only thing I had left. Scorpion. I'd say you were the one who hates me."
"I wasn't trying to take away Scorpion."
"No, of course not. Just competing for all the same jobs. Attempting to drive us out of business. The difference is obvious."
"I was trying to protect Team Centipede. My team," Paige bit out, crossing her arms. "And I don't hate you, Walter. I hate the way you treated me. I hate that I wasn't good enough for you."
"You weren't enough for me?" The file slipped out of his hands, all but forgotten, as he stood up abruptly. Paige stepped back, surprised by the outburst. "I have never felt that way. You made it very clear I was the one who wasn't good enough. Pointed out my numerous shortcomings as a romantic partner in front of the team. Made it clear…" He sucked in a breath, embarrassed by the crack in his voice. "M-Made it clear that you were never happy with me. That you never loved me for who I was. Everything I am annoys you. And I can't do anything about that. I can't fix it. But don't act like this was about you not being enough for me."
"What the hell else am I supposed to think?" she argued, her volume rising on nearly every word. "Secretly going out with Florence? Lying to me about her? Acting shocked when she actually had feelings for you? For all I know you're already with her. I bet it happened the second I left."
"No. She…asked. But I don't have feelings for her and that was always the truth."
Paige shook her head. "Everything you've done says otherwise."
"Why was it so hard to believe that I loved you?" The words just tumbled from his mouth. He had nothing to lose anymore and the honesty was pouring out unencumbered. "I told you. I said something to you that I've never said to anyone else and it wasn't enough." Walter curled his lip under, suddenly aware that his hands were shaking. He pressed his nails into his palms, deep enough to leave marks. "You've walked out every time. When things got hard. I thought…I t-thought it would be different when you knew how I felt. It wasn't. So I don't know what you want now, Paige. I can't give it to you. Just like I apparently couldn't give you anything you wanted. Go home to Ralph and forget whatever happened today."
She stared at him for a long second, the expression in her eyes indecipherable. Her mouth opened and promptly shut before she spun around and stormed out of the garage. Yet again. Just as he'd expected.
Every time she left, it hurt a little less. Walter figured that was probably because there was a little less of him.