I always planned to keep this story short, so here is the last chapter. RATED M, just skip over the middle if you're not interested in smut (you'll have plenty of warning when it starts to get there). Review if you enjoyed it; fic writers tend to get a lot of reviews in the beginning and few at the end, which makes it seem like people have lost interest, even if they haven't. After this I'll be focusing on catching up on fics (I've missed a lot) and then I'll continue "Innocent" if people are still interested in that one. Thanks for reading!

Walter refused to consider a negative outcome. Life-threatening situations were a dime a dozen in their line of work and they had always prevailed with science and a little luck. This would be no different. He'd pledged not to let anything happen to her, and he wasn't breaking that promise today.

If Toby or Sylvester said anything as they crossed the glass-paned bridge between the buildings and ran up the stairs two at a time, Walter didn't hear it. He didn't feel the burning in his lungs or answer his ringing phone or question why the hell their comms weren't functioning. He wasn't even sure he took a breath until he stumbled through the door to the roof and spotted the two women near the ledge, Happy crouching over Paige's unconscious form.

Walter raced toward them, dropping to his knees next to Paige and checking her pulse. Slow but consistent. He exhaled.

Toby was beside them in an instant, giving his wife a concerned once-over before turning his full attention to the liaison. "I saw your fifty missed calls and knew something had to be wrong," Happy explained. "I pushed her off the scaffold just before it collapsed but she fell. I think she might have hit her head."

"It's okay, turtledove, you saved her life." Toby lifted Paige's head, gently turning it to the side. "No blood. Call for a medivac, there's no way an ambulance will get through the chaos on the street."

Happy was already dialing for help, concern on her face. "Emergency services is going to be swamped. I don't know how long it'll take them to get here."

"If there's no internal bleeding or swelling, she'll be okay. But I can't say for sure without tests. I'll do what I can here, but…"

"She's pregnant," Walter blurted out, not particularly caring in the moment who knew or what they would say later. All that mattered was helping her, and any medical professional would give her a higher triage priority. "Tell them she's pregnant."

"Okay," Happy said. In the periphery of his mind, he was conscious of the team's stares, of the mechanic's slightly guilty expression, of the 9-1-1 operator's calm voice. But all he could focus on was Paige. "They'll be here in five minutes."


"Can you manage the stairs?"

Paige nodded, grasping onto the railing and stiffening slightly when the genius placed a hand on the small of her back. "I'm fine, Walter."

"I know, I just…" He trailed off, clearing his throat. "You should exercise caution."

She sighed and took the steps at a normal pace even though he could tell that putting weight on her left ankle was causing mild discomfort. Walter suspected she was minimizing her symptoms to avoid his hovering. She'd woken up in the helicopter and doctors quickly ruled out a concussion or hemorrhaging, but neither of them had been able to relax until the health of her pregnancy was similarly confirmed.

He released her long enough to unlock the front door to her apartment, watching her carefully as she crossed the threshold. Ralph had visited her earlier, in the hospital, before Sylvester took him for the day so Paige could relax. It was approaching three in the afternoon and Walter concluded that her complex was suitably quiet for several hours of uninterrupted rest. But he'd spent more than a few nights sleeping next to Paige, and it wasn't difficult to conclude that she was still too tense and agitated to unwind.

"Are you hungry?" Walter asked, placing her bags on the couch and heading into the kitchen. "I can make you soup if you have cans left. Or I can order from Kovelsky's or that Chinese place."

Paige didn't respond and he had a not-entirely-illogical spark of fear that something was wrong. He peered around the wall and let out a relieved breath when he saw her sitting on the couch, looking down at her clasped hands in her lap. "You don't have to stay, Walter," she said quietly when she realized he was waiting for an answer. "I'll be okay on my own. Or Cabe offered to come over, if you guys insist on having someone here."

The genius frowned. "I'm already here. It doesn't make sense for Cabe to drive all this way." He shrugged, confused by the odd suggestion. "Toby's on call in case you need further attention. I can work on my laptop while you rest. It's not a problem, Paige."

She drew in a deep breath, a fairly reliable cue that he'd misunderstood her. "I don't want you to stay," she admitted, her eyes not meeting his. "I won't sleep if you're here. I can't. It's…" Paige shook her head. "It's too much."

"Too…" He stopped abruptly, suddenly feeling like he had the fourth lowest IQ ever recorded. Only an idiot would have to ask what she meant. Only an idiot would think she wanted him around after he'd been so cold to her. "Paige—."

"God, Walter, I can't do this." She dropped her face into her hands, muffling her words slightly. "I need to get off this roller coaster. Just tell me it's over and leave so I can start figuring out how the hell to deal with this."

Walter froze, stunned. Cabe was right and he couldn't even see it. While he was wrapped up in anger and self-loathing, Paige was falling apart at the seams. How hollow was his greater good theory if the person he loved more than anything was paying the price for it?

He stepped forward tentatively and lowered himself to the opposite end of the couch, leaving an adequate amount of space between them. She was a force of nature, but in that moment, he was convinced she would crumble if he wasn't careful. "Paige, I was…" He swallowed, bracing himself for her reaction. There was a reason he'd insisted on being the one to bring her home. Letting her out of his sight was too difficult a prospect. "Today was one of the worst days of my life. Thinking that I lost you and the baby...I don't ever want to feel that way again."

That got her to look at him, at least. Her eyes were wet. He thought he might have seen her cry more that week than in the entire three years he'd known her.

"I would have done anything to guarantee your safety," the genius continued, running his hands nervously over his legs. "A-Anything. If all I had do was press a button, o-or…" He glanced over at her, all the emotions he'd been suppressing threatening to erupt and crush him. "Or not enter a code, I would have. I d-don't think I would make it if you didn't and I don't know if that's how you felt but it was—."

Walter was abruptly cut off by her lips on his, her fingers tangling in his hair. He hadn't even realized how much he missed her scent, the warmth of her body. It was immediately intoxicating.

There was nothing slow or gentle about her kiss. This was needy, forceful. Things were rarely rushed between them, but she was pushing him back against the cushions and straddling his lap before his brain caught up to what was happening. "P-Paige," he stuttered, his mental clarity fading rapidly. She'd always had that effect on him and part of him reveled in what she would call an affirmation of life after his numbness in the hospital. "Paige, you're hurt."

"I'm okay," she said desperately, her tongue tracing his bottom lip and making him groan involuntarily. "Don't stop."

Paige rocked against him, sucking in a harsh breath as his hips responded. Her heat seeped through her clothing and the part of him that knew they were acting impulsively was all but powerless against the sensations she created for him. He'd been so terrified hours earlier that she was gone permanently, and having her in his arms was too comforting to give up.

"Oh god," she gasped when his lips dropped to her neck, his palms traveling under her shirt to her bare skin. There was a small bandage on the middle of her back where she'd sustained scratches from the concrete roof, but Paige's only reaction when he traced his finger around the edges was a quiet moan. Her ankle was still a concern, so he put one hand on her lower back and the other under her thigh to ease her down on the couch, supporting as much of his own weight as possible as he leaned over her.

Paige tugged at the hem of her white top, lifting up just enough to pull it over her head. It was too early for her to be showing, but the knowledge that she was carrying their child—something that was half of him and half of her, something that would always connect them—seemed to sink in for the first time. "Walter," she whined, impatient under his gaze. He was spared the task of thinking up the right thing to say, or thinking at all, when Paige deftly slipped off his shirt with only minimal assistance from him. Her palms smoothed over his chest and he shuddered, even more responsive to her touch than usual because of their separation. "Walter, I need you."

Her pleading short-circuited him and his body would betray any claim that he didn't need her just as much. He wanted to lose himself in her and let the rest of the world, all his fear and guilt and regret, fade into oblivion. It wasn't hard to imagine she was searching for that too.

Paige curled her leg around the back of his, seeking more friction and moaning as their hips met. He trapped her lips in a bruising kiss, fumbling awkwardly with the button of his pants until he could push them down adequately with his boxers. She ignored her skirt and reached underneath instead to pull her underwear over her legs. "Are you sure?" he breathed, because they'd been intimate a hundred times but never like this.

She nodded, a sharp sound escaping her mouth as he lifted her hips and pushed into her. Paige was never this wet without any buildup. She was tighter after a week apart and Walter grunted, feeling somehow both grounded and lost in another world. "I missed you," he murmured, burying his head in her neck and listening to her erratic pulse.

"Me too," she whispered, her voice strained. "Oh god, Walter."

Neither of them was going to last. Paige was tightening around him in a consistent rhythm, small moans accompanying most of her breaths, and Walter's speed increased as an almost automatic response. Despite the demands of their job, they didn't often resort to quick romantic interludes, and this sense of urgency was overwhelming. But he was long past the point of being able to slow down, if he'd ever had the control to do so in the first place.

Almost as quickly as it started, Paige was sinking her nails into his back, clinging to him for stability, pulsing around him in a seemingly endless wave. Hearing her whimper his name was more than enough to drag him under, make him shake with the unexpected intensity of his release. The only sound in the aftermath was them fighting to catch their breath, and she kept her arms and legs tangled around him, silently willing him not to move just yet.

Walter shut his eyes, the fog of desire finally starting to dissipate and allowing reality in its place. She was injured, she'd been through hell, he had treated her so badly. He had no right to this, no right to let his emotions run wild and give her far less than she deserved. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

"Please don't leave," she said, her voice small. His chest ached. He knew she misunderstood.

"That's not what I meant. That's not what I meant," he murmured, shifting to the side so he could have this conversation without worrying about crushing her. She moved into the empty space, curling against him as he pulled her throw blanket off the back of the couch and covered them with it. Walter pressed a kiss to her hair, running his fingers over her exposed skin, which seemed to reassure her that he wasn't going to disappear. "We should have talked first."

"I know. We just..."

"Yeah." Nothing about what they'd done was logical or particularly smart, but his feelings for her hadn't always taken those things into consideration. "Paige, I know I screwed up."

She dropped her eyes, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "I needed you, Walter. I was scared and alone and I never thought it would be like that with you."

"Neither did I. I'm sorry. I thought I was better with you. Less selfish."

"You weren't all selfish," Paige said quietly, shaking her head. "I was selfish to save your life whatever the cost, but Walter, I wouldn't change it. Maybe you can't ever really forgive that, but I hope you can, because…" She pressed her lips together, struggling to keep her emotions in check. "I can't do this alone. I can't do this without you."

He brought his hand up to the curve of her neck, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Of course you could. You're the strongest person I know."

"But I don't want to," she admitted. "I just want to fix this."

Walter let out a breath, once again overwhelmed. Maybe there wasn't a good place to start. He didn't know if there was a right thing to say, and maybe he just had to start by saying something instead of shutting down. "A-After Baghdad…" He hated talking about this. He hardly ever did, even to her. "I blamed Cabe. Even before I knew...what he knew. But mostly I just hated myself. People were dead because of me, their lives were over, how could I live mine? What kind of person would I be if I let myself be happy after that?"

Paige didn't try to fill the silence that followed as he organized his thoughts. She knew he would get there eventually.

"That faded with time. I started Scorpion, I met you. I finally was happy. We've lost people on cases, but it wasn't because of me. O-Or they were people who weren't innocent." He exhaled, forcing himself to keep going. "I feel the same now as I did when I was sixteen. People died, I survived, what kind of person am I if I'm happy with you and this baby? And I know it was wrong to blame you for what I couldn't handle, I know you did what I and probably anyone else would have done in the same situation, I know this is all weighing on you too, but I'm no closer to answering that question, Paige."

"Survivor's guilt."

"Something like that."

Paige thought for another moment, tugging the pillow down more comfortably by her head. "Being unhappy can't bring them back," she stated, looking up at him. "I can't say that your life is more or less valuable than theirs, except to me. To the people who love you. But I can say that you have saved thousands of people. Maybe millions. You being alive is not a waste, Walter. Whether you allow yourself to be happy or not, this world is a better place because of you. My world is a better place because of you."

Walter leaned down, capturing her lips. She reciprocated, scooting closer and threading her fingers into his curls. The world had seemed a much colder, emptier place before he met her.

He sighed when they separated, pressing his forehead to hers. "I don't know what to do here."

"I don't either." It was strange to hear her say it. She'd been his emotional compass since that first day at the diner, but she couldn't be his shortcut for everything. Some things were uncharted and the responsibility of navigating them couldn't all rest on her. "I was so scared of your reaction that I haven't really processed that day for myself. I hate what happened and I hate that I'll never know if there was a better choice or what to do if it happens again." Paige stroked his chest, his heart beating steadily under her hand. "But we can get through it. For us and for this child. I believe that."

Her belief that things would be better one day had helped her through years of struggling. And eventually they were. So he had to trust that she was right about this too.

Besides, choosing to be alone when he had so much right in front of him seemed impossible. "Okay. I'm here."