LAST CHRISTMAS
AN: I apologize. I wanted to write a fluffy Christmas story for all my friends in this fandom ...and this happened instead. Please forgive me? I guess season 3 has left me feeling a little more angsty than I thought. Have a Merry one anyway!
Life was really weird. Sometimes circumstances changed in a blink and sometimes changes, either good or bad, were almost unnoticeably gradual and slow like a creeping glacier. And they left just as big of a gouge in their wake.
Ralph stood in the doorway of the hospital room observing the scene in front of him. He was good at being unobtrusive, so he just watched and filed it all away in his prodigious memory to bring up and analyze another day.
The twinkling lights on the mini Christmas tree in the corner blinked in time with each low blip of the heart monitor. The only other sound was the burbling of the water that humidified the air going through a nasal cannula. Ralph automatically made note of the slow but steady beats per minute and the oxygen saturation levels on the screen over the bed.
The quiet didn't last long. It never had when Toby was anywhere in the vicinity. It was good to know that some things still hadn't changed.
"Come and sit on Santa's knee, Happy," Toby crooned, leering. He had exchanged his usual fedora for a Santa hat that sat crookedly on his wiry, iron gray hair. His shoulders were a little stooped, but his eyes still held that mischievous spark.
His wife of forty-four years stood at the bedside and slapped at his grabby hands. "Leave it, Perv," she gritted out, but the words lacked the conviction of times past and a smile quirked at her lips.
Toby waggled a pair of bushy, gray brows and said. "Oooo! This Santa likes 'em on the naughty side."
Happy rolled her eyes behind a pair of thick bifocals and stated, "You're officially a dirty old man now, you know that?"
"Honey, I earned that title at least ten years ago," Toby cackled.
"More like twenty," Sylvester muttered, squirting a glob of hand sanitizer onto his palm.
"Hey! My hearing may not be what it used to be, but I heard that, Spry Sly! I got a few years on you, but just wait. When you get to be my age, you'll get your thrills wherever you can. Trust me."
"But you'll always be older than me. I've done the math," Sylvester chuckled. He was reasonably unchanged by time and looked younger than his years even with the laugh lines around his eyes and the graying at his temples.
Ralph took all of it in, revisiting the memories of the majority of his life in the midst of this little microcosm of people and their banter. His eyes searched out his dad. They'd never bothered with prefacing the title with 'step'. Walter was related to him in ways much more important than biology. From the beginning, his dad had just understood him; more so than his mom or even his wife and daughters.
Walter looked tired almost to the point of appearing shriveled. His hands shook with tremors because of an electric shock he'd sustained on one case or other years ago. His short, curly hair was solid white and sparser on the crown of his head than he liked to admit and his face was a road map of a life well and truly lived. But his eyes were still deep, dark and sharply intelligent. He could yet challenge Ralph to a battle of wits and come out on top at least half of the time.
The older genius looked up and spied his son in the doorway to the room. "Did you bring it?" He asked, sounding eager, his fatigue momentarily forgotten.
"Yeah. Here it is," Ralph grinned and held up a thumb drive.
Belatedly, Walter remembered to ask in the way Paige taught him over the years, "Are Molly and the girls all settled at the house for the night?"
"Yep. They really hate they couldn't be here for this, but Esme still isn't feeling very well. I think it's just a cold, but I didn't want her to get around…well, you know." Ralph's gaze dropped to the floor and he scuffed the toe of a shoe at a crack in the tile.
Walter cleared his throat. Their eyes met and after a moment of silent commiseration, Ralph approached and dropped the drive into Walter's outstretched hand. They turned the bedside table and positioned it over the bed while the others gathered around and Happy finally gave up and sat on Toby's lap.
Walter propped up his tablet on the table and plugged in the drive. While the file was loading, he gently rubbed his wife's shoulder and said, "Ralph's here, love. That's it. Can you wake up for me? Just for a few minutes. We want to show you something. It's our Christmas gift for you. Here, scoot over so I can sit beside you and Ralph can have my spot."
Paige's eyes fluttered open and she gave a sleepy smile to her son as her husband climbed up on the bed with her and helped position her comfortably, tucking her into his side with her head resting against his shoulder.
A hush fell on the group as images began scrolling on the screen and simultaneously projected on the wall opposite the bed. The first picture was of Paige and ten year old Ralph with fake snow drifting through the air around them and coming to light on their shoulders and heads in stark contrast to the boy's dark hair.
Walter narrated as the scene switched to a picture of the rest of the group. Happy was warily smiling beside the father with whom she'd recently reconciled. Megan was grinning up at Sly, her dimples giving her an elvish look, while Walter's silly Christmas sweater flashed. "Remember? That was your first Christmas with us. It was the happiest one I'd ever had up to that point."
"I kissed Megan for the first time that night under the mistletoe," Sylvester sighed.
"It was a kiss on the cheek. Those don't count," Toby teased.
"Well, there's nothing wrong with my memory and if I recall, you didn't help with the set up or the fake snow at all!" Happy groused.
"I provided moral support," Toby retorted.
They all laughed softly as a new group of images scrolled: The beautiful tree gracing the front of the garage by Walter's desk, Toby spraying non-melting snow on the ramp, Ferret Bueller in his silly toboggan, the California 'snowman' on the beach with the rocket in the background.
"You showed me how to say goodbye to my sister that Christmas. It was hard, but you helped me through it."
"Aww. There's Cabe," Paige whispered, blinking back the moisture trying to gather behind her drooping eyelids. "I still miss him."
"We all do. Every day," Happy agreed and reached over to squeeze Paige's hand.
The next set of pictures was of their tech-less Christmas at the mountain get-away. It was a happy memory in spite of Ralph's kidnapping. After all, he'd out-smarted his kidnappers and gotten away, hadn't he?
Walter recalled with relish that it was their first and last Christmas with Tim, earning him a mock severe look and a gentle poke in the ribs from his wife.
As forty-six years of Christmases scrolled past, the group laughed and sighed and ruminated on the happy times, what all they learned from each other, all the milestones passed and the challenges met and conquered. There was the Christmas Happy found out she was expecting the twins. It was the very same one when Paige proposed to Walter and he stuttered a 'yes'. Then there was Ralph's first Christmas back from college when the Curtis boys were three. There was the year when Scorpion expanded and had their last official celebration at the garage which was also the holiday when Ralph first brought Molly home to meet their odd little ragtag family of misfits. Then the grandbabies began to appear at intervals as well as the notable absences of Patrick, Cabe and eventually Veronica. The years of memories played on as the original cyclone reminisced and counted their blessings together. Always together.
Sylvester was the first to leave after the slide show. His eyes wet, he kissed Paige on the forehead and told her, "Did you see? See what you started? We are so lucky you happened to be working in the diner that day. You are the heart of this team. We all adore you. Merry Christmas, Paige. You've always been my favorite."
That had everyone sniffling until Happy said, "Wait a sec. You said I was your favorite!"
To which he replied, "Because I'm still terrified of you!" That statement brought on the laughter again.
Toby and Happy were the next to excuse themselves. They needed to get home to their house full of chaos and grandkids.
Happy leaned over the bedrail and spoke softly, "Thank you. I haven't said that nearly enough, but I want you to know I appreciate everything. You were the person I'd call at three in the morning when my kids were sick or when I was sick of my kids and they were driving me nuts. And I could never attempt to tell you how grateful I am that you came into Walter's life. He was a closed off pain in the ass before you. For that alone, I will always…well, you know." Paige gave her friend a weak smile as they clasped hands. Happy swallowed hard and made a hasty exit not looking back.
Toby's hallmark grin faded slightly. Ever the Happy interpreter, he clarified, "She loves you. That's what she really wanted to say."
Paige nodded, and smiled knowingly. "Tell her I love her too. When you get home and no one is listening."
"I will. I guess it's my turn. I just want to say…" He choked on the words, his lips trembling. "Sorry. I wasn't going to do this." He took a deep breath and continued, "You and I unloaded on each other a lot over the years, because the loves in our lives were impenetrable fortresses sometimes. In a lot of ways, you are my best friend, you know. When the two Easter Island statues we married wouldn't talk, we always had each other. I just want you to know that I think it sucks you're leaving me alone with these guys. But I guess…well, I love you anyway. And I always will." The wayward tear he'd been fighting slipped down his nose as he leaned in to gently envelope Paige's frail form in a hug before shuffling after Happy out the door.
After a few minutes, Ralph came around and sat in the chair Toby had previously occupied. He wanted to be able to hold his mom's hand for just a little while longer.
Wearily surveying her stoic men as they struggled to contain their emotions, Paige shook her head and held up one finger. Her son had to lean in closely to hear her. "Oh, my boys. My most important thing. I don't want either one of you feeling guilty. Do you hear me? Some problems just can't be solved, you know. Even by a whole world of geniuses. And I've lived a good, long life with people I've cherished. I have been well loved. I have very few regrets. I'm the luckiest woman in the world."
She struggled to keep her eyes open as Walter turned toward her and said, "No, Paige. We're the lucky ones." He hugged her tighter to his side and whispered into her hair, "I know you are worried about us, but thanks to you, we have each other. I can't imagine a life without you, but look what you gave me. I have a family that loves me and I know how to love them in return. We won't let each other get lost. See? You were preparing me all this time. I'm going to stay with Sylvester for a while after... He'll know what I need. I know you're tired, sweetheart. It's okay to rest now. We know you love us."
Ralph only managed to say in a hushed croak, "I love you. Thanks for always being the best mom I could have asked for." He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles as he grasped her fingers with his. He watched her eyes drift shut and listened as Walter continued to murmur quietly to her, reassuring her and reminding her of their lifetime of love.
The younger genius was struggling to process everything like he hadn't in years. He just didn't know how to do this. Glancing toward the door because he wanted to flee, he saw his own wife Molly appear as if he'd conjured her. Her sweet, familiar face was the remedy he didn't realize he needed. Relief flooded him. She opened her arms and he breathed her name, stood and walked straight into them.