I was honestly just itching to write a story. Not 100% sure how long this will be or where it's going. My best guess is 4-5 shorter chapters, and the forecast is angst that is expected to clear up by the end. Like this is actually more angst than the show, sorry. I think show Walter is struggling but growing in a lot of amazing ways. This fic is how I imagine Walter would see things but it's not necessarily how I see the situation.

Also I'd just like to say DANG Elyes was mighty fine in "Sly and the Family Stone." Wet or dry, that outfit was doing him all kinds of favors and he's a truly epic actor and I'm just in love.

Anyway.

Review if you're up for it.

He couldn't stop thinking about the way Paige had looked at him as she left the garage.

He couldn't stop thinking about her hand rubbing his back at Megan's ceremony. He couldn't stop thinking about fixing her light in the cave. He couldn't stop thinking about her coming down the stairs in that dress.

He didn't forget much, and every interaction he'd ever had with Paige was stored safely in his memory. Lately, though—after Tahoe—it was all so much more powerful. Those moments were burned indelibly into his brain and he replayed them with alarming frequency. Because he was never going to get anything more from her.

That was his fault. He was aware. He didn't blame her for moving on with the interloper. How could he? In hindsight, he recalled the many times she'd practically thrown herself at him and he had been so stubborn, so blind, so sure of his long-held beliefs in the emptiness of romantic feelings that he pushed her away and now she was gone, really gone, in the arms of a man he couldn't hate but couldn't accept.

He missed her so much. He missed all the little things he thought weren't important to him, at the time, but that he now felt he couldn't live without. He missed her brushing his arm when she walked by. He missed hearing her laugh when he attempted terrible jokes. He missed being the first person she talked to when she entered the garage, handing her coffee with cinnamon and feeling like the crater in his life that had appeared overnight was filled again.

It all sounded melodramatic, even in his own head. But he wondered how a person who craved knowledge as much as he did, who constantly sought opportunities to overturn entrenched, erroneous theories, had studiously ignored all the signs. It was like denying global warming, or refusing to accept that the earth revolved around the sun.

He wasn't denying the signs anymore. But it was a bit too late, because every time he saw them now, they served as distressing evidence that Paige was falling in love with Tim.

Walter felt ill at the thought of her saying those words, the words he'd tried so hard to express for years, to a man she'd known for months. He was certainly nauseated at the idea of Tim touching her, taking that gown off her slowly, making her sigh in the dark.

He was torturing himself, but he didn't stop. He wasn't sure he could stop, but even if he was capable of erasing the sickening what ifs from his mind, they were appropriate punishment for his mistakes.

The genius flipped over, burying his face in the pillow, but there was no chance she'd stop haunting him tonight.

"I didn't think you'd still be down here."

Walter didn't answer, and Cabe followed his gaze to where it had fallen on Paige's empty desk. He'd assumed the agent left with Happy, twenty minutes earlier, for another few hours of banal board games.

Because what he was doing was infinitely more productive.

Cabe dragged a rolling chair over to the other side of Walter's workstation, raising his brows at the genius's feet, which were crossed at the ankles and propped on the desk. Walter wasn't usually so…casual at the garage, but currently he was leaning back in his chair, staring straight ahead, his eyes focused on everything and nothing important. He was vaguely aware of Cabe resting a mug of coffee on the corner and popping open one button on his black suit jacket as he relaxed into his seat.

They were all relieved not to get a case the day after returning from Ireland. It was a physically and mentally exhausting trip, and the team had trudged through minor projects and voting on a few prospective private jobs before heading out early. Walter was curious as to why Cabe was hanging around, but not curious enough to initiate conversation.

"Hell of a week," the agent offered, crooking one elbow over the back of his chair. Walter had heard that expression from the older man many times and it served no purpose other than to break the silence, so he deduced that Cabe was searching for insight into his thoughts.

He wasn't inclined to give it. "Sure."

For a normal, Gallo had remarkably little tolerance when it came to small talk. After another lengthy silence, he took a long swig of his coffee and dropped it back down with a slight clatter that set Walter's nerves on edge. "Alright. Are you going to mope around here for the rest of your life, or does the sulking have an expiration date?"

"I don't sulk," Walter rebutted, though his aggravated tone suggested otherwise.

"Could've fooled me." Cabe gestured vaguely to the genius, shaking his head. "Look at you. Fourth highest IQ in the world and you're sitting here wasting brain cells. What happened to the man who couldn't go ten minutes without working on something?"

"Fifth. And I'm attempting to be more human. This is what humans do." He lifted his clasped hands in demonstration before dropping them back down to his lap. "What would you suggest I be doing?"

Cabe pressed his lips together. They both knew why Walter had been sitting in that position for nearly an hour, burning a hole through a vacant desk. Ralph was conducting a presentation at a school assembly and the young genius had only let it slip as he was leaving the garage with his mother and the interloper. Paige looked embarrassed and ushered him out the door, offering a brief apology and some sort of meaningless platitude, like maybe next time you can join us, to Walter before disappearing.

We could have been partners forever.

Watching Ralph bond with Drew had been painful enough, but at least Walter could accept—in some capacity—Drew's role as his biological father. But not Tim. Not a stranger. Not someone who would never understand Ralph's depth as a genius and as a human being.

"Look, son." Cabe cleared his throat and waited for Walter to focus on him. Another pause. Nothing. "I know it sucks, having your heart broken. You feel like you'll never care about someone else again. But you will."

"You didn't."

Walter caught Cabe with the photo album the morning after Happy produced it. He spent an average of forty-seven seconds on each page. Whether it was nostalgia or regret, Walter couldn't say with certainty, but it didn't bear the hallmarks of someone who'd moved on from the past.

"Yeah, well, I'm old. And I worked most of my life away. Doesn't mean it'll be the same for you." The agent tipped his chin toward Walter. "You've got a lot of time. And a lot to offer."

The genius crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back farther, his chair creaking under the strain. He was putting a fair amount of effort into appearing indifferent, but his voice was less sharp when he spoke again and he didn't have the energy to correct it. "It's, uh…it's fine. I always knew it was going to be like this." Walter allowed himself a brief glance over to his mentor before looking away again. "My being alone has been proven to be…efficient. Whatever, uh, variables may have arisen in the past several years are immaterial. The end result is the same."

"You know you're not alone, kid." The fatherly tone that Walter usually gravitated toward suddenly felt like nails on a chalkboard and he wanted nothing more than for the conversation to be over. "Ralph and Paige will still be in your life. She's a good friend. I think you'll find a pretty loyal friend in Tim, too. And he might have one in you, if Ireland was any indication."

He swung his legs off the desk and dropped them to the floor, his shoes landing with a thud on the cement. "I guess Tim will have everything then." He tapped once on the edge of his workstation, signifying the end of their communication, and pushed himself up, turning toward the direction of the stairs. "Goodnight, Cabe."

Walter heard the agent respond, but he didn't stop to listen. It wasn't going to accomplish anything of value tonight.