Don't be afraid of who you are. You're not your brain. You are your heart.
For a second, seeing Megan's face on screen, it was like she hadn't gone anywhere. She'd always been larger than life, anyway. Larger than this life. Her illness was random, of course. A genetic curse that could have easily struck him or anyone else. But occasionally—when he was allowing his thoughts to wander to something less concrete—he wondered if maybe his sister had just been too much, too good, for the confines of this universe.
And there are people in this world that love you so much. Walter, don't be afraid to love. I just want you to be as happy as I am.
That was easy for her to say, wasn't it? Sylvester loved her unconditionally until the end. He never saw her limitations, only her strengths. Then again, Megan was infinitely more lovable than he was.
I love you. Thank you. Thank you for being my brother.
Walter snapped the laptop closed, his knuckles nearly white as he clutched the edges. He didn't believe in rituals, but watching this on the anniversary of her death could be considered one. It was mostly out of necessity. He'd never been the sentimental type, and now that she was gone, he lamented the lack of mementos to remember her by. The video and her bracelet were about all that was left.
Don't be afraid to love. He was finally looking forward to telling Megan—if there was any possible way for her to hear it—that he'd done what she asked. Overcome his fear and opened himself up to love. Found the kind of happiness he saw her experience with Sylvester.
But he couldn't. Not anymore. Walter had spent years building a family, with Ralph, with Paige, with Scorpion, only to lose it all with one mistake. Perhaps love was reserved for people like Megan. People who understood how to accept and return it.
He wished he'd never held Paige's hand that night. He wished he had never followed her to Tahoe. He wished he never admitted his feelings to her. If he hadn't reciprocated, Paige would have moved on quickly enough. Found someone more suitable. But he never would. Walter relied on data, evidence, and he had no evidence thus far that he was capable of falling in love with anyone but her. When she was next to him, her head on his shoulder, her bare skin pressed against his...he didn't have a name for that feeling. She was part of him. The odds of him stumbling onto that again were astronomical. That kind of lightning only struck once.
Walter shook his head, half-tossing the laptop onto his coffee table. This was Megan's day. He should be remembering her, not dwelling on the mess his life had become without her.
"Hey. Thought I would find you up here," Cabe said as he peeked his head around the doorframe. "Mind if I join you?"
The genius nodded, grateful for once to have his thoughts interrupted. "You didn't have to come in. I told you there were no jobs today."
"I know. Just thought you might want company. Today being…you know."
He hadn't realized that Cabe recalled the date. Then again, the agent had always kept tabs on Walter's life as much as any father would. "Okay."
Cabe took a seat next to him on the couch, kicking his feet up on the table. Walter mirrored him, both men staring ahead absently until Cabe broke the comfortable silence. "You know I'm here for you, kid," he started, sounding uncertain. "But if there's someone you need here…more…it's okay to ask for that. Sometimes, on a day like today, when it's rough, you just want…"
Despite the older man's rambling, Walter knew what he was hinting at. But she wouldn't come, and he already had enough pain to contend with for one day. "You're enough." He looked over at Cabe, offering him a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you. For sticking around."
Not just today. Thank you for being the only person who stayed.
The agent seemed to understand the subtext and nodded, his expression softening. "Of course, son." He swallowed, and Walter turned his attention back to the wall, knowing after all these years that there was a but coming. "But don't give up hope on everyone else. They'll come around. They just need time."
The genius grimaced, deeply uninterested in the turn their conversation was taking. Cabe attempted to bring it up at least once a week, but Walter was always able to deflect with some urgent assignment. Until now. "It's been forty-eight days. Plenty of time for them to reach out if they wanted to. They don't want to."
"Paige did."
Walter stiffened. How did Cabe even know about her visit to the garage? At any rate, it had been more than two weeks since their argument after the CDC case, and she remained radio silent. He had advised her to forget everything that happened that day and it seemed she listened. "That conversation was unproductive at best."
Cabe raised an eyebrow. If he knew the details, then he already knew Walter had been a jerk, but even if he didn't, he could probably guess. "You two will figure it out. I have to believe that."
"There's nothing to figure out," he said a little more petulantly than he intended. "I know how I feel. And I know how she feels."
"Come on, kid. I know she still l—."
"D-Don't. Just…don't." He tipped his head back against the couch, shutting his eyes. "I know you're trying to be helpful. B-But that isn't."
He didn't know if Paige still loved him. He didn't know if she'd ever loved him, or if she had just convinced herself of it because he felt so strongly for her. But Walter wasn't sure which option was worse: that he couldn't make her happy even when she was in love with him, or that she finally realized her feelings weren't strong enough to warrant the effort.
Cabe's optimism was misplaced. As much as Walter loathed the idea of Paige building a life with someone else, he didn't have the power to change it. Perhaps accepting her apology without a fight would have helped, but he'd meant everything he said. He loved her. And it wasn't enough.
"Sorry," the agent said softly, letting out a heavy sigh. "What do you say we just talk about Megan? Tell me some stories from when you were kids."
Walter relaxed. He could do that. There were a lot of things he wanted to forget, but Megan wasn't one of them. "This one time…"
