Author's note: I wrote most of this chapter the day we got the news. I already had most of this scenario planned out last May after the Season 3 finale. This was always going to be the most painful chapter of this story to write. Why not write it on one of the most sucky days of my life?

Also, there is some really bad dark stuff at the end of this chapter of someone having some really bad dark thoughts.

CHAPTER TWELVE

"Why?"

Pain pulsed off of him in waves, nearly knocking her down as she cautiously approached his workstation. Biting her lip to keep from crying out, Paige tugged the edge of her turtleneck a bit higher.

He couldn't even look at her, not that she blamed him. She'd seen her reflection in the waiting room window, saw the incriminating mess she'd been. She couldn't even look at herself.

"Walter. . .please. . .I'm sorry. . ."

He shook his head as if he hadn't heard her. "I thought I had improved. I thought I was becoming the person you wanted me to be. I tried. . ."

Something warm and coppery filled her mouth. Oh, God. "Walter. . .it wasn't you. . . I love you the way you are."

"Do you?" There was a bitterness to his tone which frightened her. "I've loved you from almost the moment we met. You were kind and patient and brave and. . ." His words caught in his throat as he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"Walter. . ."

"So you and. . .and him. . .you were intimate before you and I. . ?".

She could see the question was tearing him up inside. "Yes. . . And I'm sor. . ."

He cut off her apology. "And today wasn't the first time. . .since. . .?"

She shook her head. "No. . . Walter. . . Please. Don't do this to yourself.."

"I'm just gathering all the facts. Good decision making is based on having all the pertinent facts."

It was killing her to see him like this; so robotic, so defeated, so heartbreakingly sad. And she was the reason. She was the one to blame and he needed to know it.

"Walter, you didn't do anything wrong. It was me who. . ." she started to explain, breaking off when it dawned her she had no justification for what she'd done. It was over. She'd lost the man she loved. And for what? Some kinky sex with a man who would have done anything to destroy her relationship with Walter.

Oh, God. Was that what had happened? Had she stupidly fallen right into Tim's trap to break up her and Walter? He really hadn't even pressured her that much. A couple of hugs, a couple of kisses, a little pouting and she's given in so easily. She pressed her hand to her stomach as it threatened to empty itself.

"It wasn't your fault," she said as she fought back her nausea. "It wasn't anything you did. . .or didn't. . .do. I want you to believe that."

He didn't say anything for what seemed like hours. She watched his fingers slowly slide across the top of his desk, his knuckles whitening. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he finally spoke. "You know you can't be here anymore." She nodded as tears dripped down her cheeks. "For Ralph's sake, I'm giving you a year's severance again. And I've already spoken to Elia. There will be no cushy job with him waiting for you this time."

"Okay," she whimpered. She would willingly take any punishment he wanted to hand out. "Walter, I'm so. . ."

"I don't want to hear it." He got to his feet, his gaze still firmly fixed downward. "I can't. . ."

Her breath caught in her throat as she took a step closer. "Walter, please. I need to know you're okay. Your heart. . ." she asked, concerned about its physical condition. Certain of its emotional state.

"Oh, you mean the one you broke into a million little pieces?" His hands clenched into fists. "Like you give a damn."

"Walter, of course I give a damn. I love you."

"You love me?" he sneered derisively. "How could you love me and. . .and. . .do that. . .with someone else? And not just anyone else. . .but. . . but with. . . Him."

Walter's gut lurched at the thought of even saying the other man's name. "It's bad enough you cheated on me. . . but with. . ." He gulped in a lungful of air. "I'd rather you'd picked up some random stranger in a bar. . .

"I just don't understand why. Wasn't I enough for you? I know. . .I know I wasn't experienced, but I thought. . . I-I thought you were satisfied. I-I thought you were h-happy. You should have told me you weren't. You know I can't decipher emotional clues without help."

A sickening thought crossed his mind. "Or was this another one of those 'sink or swim' experiments you're so fond of? If I couldn't figure out what you needed emotionally, you'd go. . .go f-fuck someone else?

"No, it wasn't like that. No. . . Walter, please. . . I was happy. . .I am. . ."

"Just get out," he ordered, raking his hands through his hair. Her presence. . . It was becoming more than he could bear. "Just go. . . Go before I do something I'll regret."

A twinge of panic shot through him as she burst into sobs. "Walter, please. . . What about Ralph?"

He wondered when she'd play the Ralph card. The area around his heart started to ache and he wasn't sure how much was physical pain and how much was emotional. Not that it mattered. Drawing up the rest of his resolve, he replied, "I already said goodbye to him at the hospital."

She stopped wailing, her face draining of color. "You didn't tell him. . ."

"No. But he's a genius, he figured it out. Plus he smelled his shitty cologne on you." He knew he was being deliberately harsh when he heard her gasp. But he had to be.

He finally lifted his head and looked at her. Really looked at her. Her face was blotchy from crying, her lip was bleeding from where she must have bit it, her posture so brittle she appeared to be about to shatter. She was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He didn't want to take his eyes off her for a single second.

And if this was to be their last moment together, he wanted to make it count.

"You know what the worst part of this is?" She shook her head. "I still love you," he said, the words ripping at his throat. "I always will. You're the love of my life."

"Oh, God." Her knees buckled and she had to grab onto his desk to remain upright. She was less than a meter away. He could hear her raspy breathing, smell her damn lavender. . .

"I said to get out." She had to leave. He needed her to leave. Now.

"Walter, please. . ." Gazing into his eyes, Paige could see his contempt, his disgust. Saw all the pain and anguish she had caused him. But underneath it all, she could see his desire. Saw that what he said was true. He still loved her.

He abruptly turned away from her, practically sprinting to the stairs leading to his loft, slamming its door behind him. An odd sort of numbness spread over her body as she gathered up her belongings, placing them in the box Happy had so angrily slammed onto her desk. Once she finished, she carried it to the door, giving the garage one last glance.

Somehow she managed to hold it together until she arrived at her condo. Ditching the box onto her sofa, she headed for her bedroom, fresh tears flowing down her face before she hit her pillow.

She was blowing her nose a couple of hours later when her cell rang. Jumping off her bed, she dashed into the living room where she'd left her purse, answering it on the fourth ring. Oh, please, let it be Walter, she pleaded, although she knew deep down he wouldn't have changed his mind and forgiven her so quickly

"Hey, Paige."

Tim. Oh, God. Swallowing back the bile rising in her throat, she fumbled with her phone as she attempted to end the call.

"Hey, are you okay? What happened? Is Ralph okay?" His rapid fire questions pissed her off for some reason. He had no right to act like he cared.

"I can't see you anymore," she snapped.

He chuckled knowingly. "Yeah, you've said that before, but you keep coming back for more."

"You bastard," she hissed. "You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

"Did what?" He sounded bewildered which only stoked her fury higher.

"You know what you did, you son of a bitch."

"Paige, what the hell are you talking about?" he barked back at her. "I just called to see if you and Ralph were okay and to let you know I'm going to be out of town for about ten days. I have to head back to Jordan tomorrow morning to oversee some new employees. I just found out a few minutes ago."

Paige plopped down onto her couch, stunned. Either he was totally clueless or he was more devious than she ever thought he could be. It didn't matter though. She never wanted to see him again.

"Paige? Did you hear what I said?"

"I heard you. Fuck off, Tim. Don't ever call me again." She ended the call and tossed her phone across the room. It rang almost immediately. She got up off the sofa and retrieved it, realizing she was going to have to change her number. And she was going to have to move.

She ignored the call, sent a text message to her son, turned off her cell, then went into her bedroom to pack a bag for the night.

ooooo

Walter didn't know why he even attempted to sleep. He'd stripped down to his underwear and headed toward his bedroom, but just one look of the bed and all the memories of the first time they'd been together. . . The first time he'd ever been intimate with anyone. . . Every kiss, every touch, every satisfied sigh from her lips. . . All of it had inundated his mind. Pain so severe had swept through him he thought he was having another arrhythmia.

He'd breathed in big gulps of air, ran random equations through his head. Once he'd calmed himself to a reasonable level, he put his clothes back on and went downstairs.

Even there, he wasn't immune from memories of her. They'd been intimate on his desk. And on her desk. The kitchen table (which they had thoroughly disinfected afterwards, giggling all the while). In the mini Winnie. In the back seat of the only one of the old cars scattered around the garage that still had one.

He remembered her first day working there. How she'd brightened up the place every time she'd stepped inside. How he'd fallen for her a little more every day he'd spent in her company.

Walking across the floor, he stopped behind his desk, recalling their last moments together. When she'd moved nearer. Near enough her breath mingled with his. Her lavender scent teasing his senses. The warmth of her body enveloping itself around him. The pain and sorrow and love he saw shimmering in her eyes.

He'd come close, so close, too close, to pulling her into his arms and kissing her. Forgiving her, offering to wipe the slate clean and start over. He didn't want to lose her. She was his everything.

But then he'd noticed it. Peeking out just a fraction of an inch over the top of her turtleneck. The telltale purplish yellow bruise of a hickey. He'd almost vomited, the thought she'd. . .with him. The interloper. The son of a bitch who was everything he could never be.

He'd hated her in that fleeting second. He'd had to get away from her before his anger overrode his desire or his desire overrode his anger. Either outcome would have been unfavorable.

Memories, good and bad, lurked in every corner of the garage. He wanted to leave, to get as far away as possible. But he was in no condition to go anywhere. Pain was threatening to consume him. Killing him slowly. Piece by piece. Bit by bit. Pain he knew wouldn't subside any time soon. If ever. . .

He couldn't live like this. Without her. Without Ralph. With the never ending agony. . .

His lips curled grimly. There really was only one thing he could do to stop it.

ooooo

Happy slammed on the brakes as she pulled up in front of the garage the next morning. Toby watched as she smacked the gear shift into park, then wrenched open her door.

"Are you still upset about last night, my little turtledove?" he asked as he followed her out of the pickup.

"Shove it, Doc." She halted in her tracks before spinning around to face him. "Cabe had no business making us leave. We should have stayed. . ."

"I know it's not what you want to hear," said the shrink. "But Cabe was right. I didn't like leaving them alone either. But it was the correct thing to do."

"He probably forgave that bitch," she grumbled. "They're probably upstairs right now, screwing each other's brains out."

"Ew, I haven't even had my coffee yet." Toby shuddered before looking at his wife pensively. "And why are you thinking about them making the beast with two backs anyway?"

The mechanic was spared from answering as Cabe's SUV drove up and parked beside them. "Everything all right?" the agent asked as he got out of his vehicle.

"Don't know, we haven't been inside yet." Toby strode over to the door, punched in the access code, turned off the alarm, then opened the door. "This way, Madam, Monsieur," he said as he bowed mockingly.

A funky stench assaulted his nose as soon as he walked through the door. The usual 'garage stink' laced with an oily gasoline-y vibe. "What the hell?" he asked as he clapped his hand over his lower face.

Cabe and Happy had done likewise as they stopped in the middle of the room. "What the hell is all this?" the older man asked, pointing downward.

Toby came up behind them. Items were arranged a neat line across the concrete floor. Knives of various shapes and sizes were interspersed with several pairs of scissors. Razors blades, bottles of medications, chemicals of both the household and scientific variety came next. Ropes, a stack of bed sheets, pillows, a radio. . . The line ended at the front bumper of Walter's Malibu, which they hadn't realized he'd parked inside until that moment.

"Did I miss the notice we're doing an inventory for tax purposes or something?" asked Cabe in obvious confusion.

"No," said Toby solemnly as he assessed each of the objects. "It's an inventory, though," he added, panic welling up inside him. "Of all the things someone could use to commit suicide."

"Where the fuck is Walter?" asked Happy in a terrified voice as she glanced around with wide eyes.

They all scattered in different directions, Happy dashing upstairs, Toby and Cabe covering opposite ends of the building.

"Oh, shit," growled Cabe as he yanked open the door of the Malibu. Toby arrived in time to see Walter slumped over the steering wheel.

ooooo

If you are in pain, TELL someone. Or call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255. (1-800-273-TALK).

You are not alone.