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"I know that look."

Walter straightened up in his seat. He'd finally convinced Paige to get some sleep, promising to wake her with the slightest bit of news. But now she was watching him, her head resting on her palm as she leaned her weight onto the armrest of her chair. She reached her other hand up to rub at her eyes.

He frowned. "What look?"

"That look, like…like you know something," Paige said softly, her voice a little thicker than usual. Walter knew what she was going to say before she said it. "You've figured out what he's planning, haven't you?"

The genius sighed, diverting his attention from her to her son. Ralph was stable, for now, but Dr. Albanese had advised them that his condition could change at any moment and without warning. For now, Walter focused on the steady, rhythmic beating on the heart monitor that reassured him the young genius was still fighting. "We haven't confirmed it's him."

"I know you, Walter. You at least have a theory."

"Sharing a theory without conclusive evidence is—."

"Walter," she said firmly, drawing his attention back to her. Now that the initial wave of shock and emotion had run its course, Paige sounded stronger. And he couldn't get anything past her when she was focused like this. "We agreed that you would stop keeping things from me."

Feeling too restless to sit, the genius pushed his chair away from Ralph's bed and stood. He could hear the bones cracking in his legs and back and realized it had been at least thirty minutes since he'd moved last.

It must have been half an hour, then, since the team had called to give him an update. Walter knew he should be with Toby and Happy, working on locating another source of the antidote, or tracking down Collins with Cabe and Sylvester. But they had insisted he stay at the hospital, and every time he saw a flash of grief flicker over Paige's face, he knew he wouldn't be able to leave her. So he devoted his time instead to compiling a list of any location he'd ever visited or discussed with Collins, reviewing the footage in his head of the thousands of conversations that he could remember clearly.

The genius found himself on the other side of the bed from Paige, not having paid much attention to where he was walking. He crossed his arms in front of him and shuffled awkwardly, his eyes flickering erratically between her and the floor. "We, uh, we know what Collins wants. For me to…t-to lose you." Walter could barely get the words out as his throat tightened at the thought. "Both of you. He thought you would abandon the team to save yourself, but that, uh, that plan was unsuccessful."

Paige gave him a weary nod. 'Unsuccessful' didn't even begin to cover the events of that day. It still weighed heavily on both of them, and they'd barely had time to come to terms with it before Collins plunged them into chaos again.

"It's not, uh, uncommon…" His voice faltered, and Walter forced himself to spit out the rest of his theory even if it meant he had to avoid meeting her gaze. "For couples to separate when they lose a child. I know that Ralph isn't our child, or, um, my child, but he's…he's a substantial part of both of our lives, and…"

"I understand, Walter," Paige said gently, saving himself from finishing his sentence. He heard her chair drag across the floor as she got up, standing level with him on opposite sides of Ralph. "What I don't understand is why Collins would think this time is different. I didn't leave before and I'm not going to leave now."

The genius's eyes squeezed shut. The facts of the case were becoming jumbled with his feelings, his fears, his uncertainty, and the combination was overwhelming. "It's not that simple," he rebutted, willing himself to focus. He couldn't afford to be this distracted right now. "Mark is an expert in human psychology. Better than Toby. He knows h-how to turn people against each other. If he has a bigger plan, that's likely his endgame."

Paige knitted her eyebrows, her hands reaching out to grasp the railing on Ralph's bed. "And I'm telling you that he's already tried that, so unless there's something else you're omitting, then—."

"This is different, Paige," he blurted out, and something in his tone ended her protest. His entire body felt like it was shaking. Walter wanted to bolt out of the hospital, find somewhere he could breathe and think straight, but he knew he would hate himself for running. "If the team can't save Ralph, all you'll ever see are the people who let your son die. You would never…you wouldn't be able to look at us, at me, the same way again. And I wouldn't blame you. It's a nearly inevitable psychological response."

Losing Paige was just as unfathomable a concept as losing Ralph. Losing them both…Walter's life would never be the same.

Guilt rippled through him. He should be doing more, should be tearing California apart looking for a way to save the young genius, but he couldn't get his head together, and he was going to lose everything. Walter suddenly felt like the air had been knocked out of him. There didn't seem to be any right answer. If there was something he could have done with the team and he wasn't there, it would haunt him. And if anything happened to Ralph and Paige had to face it alone, he'd never forgive himself for that either.

"Stop, Walter," she breathed, reading the conflict on his face easily. "I would never put that kind of blame on you. Collins got to Ralph twice, right under my nose. He's my son. My responsibility. It was…" her breath hitched slightly, "my decision to stay when Collins threatened us. I accept the consequences of that."

Watching Paige blame herself for her son's condition didn't feel any better than blaming himself. "I should have tried harder," he muttered, dragging one hand over his face. "I should have made you take the deal, and when we were sure Collins was gone I could have looked for you—."

"Don't focus on the past." In what seemed like two steps, Paige was standing in front of him with her hands resting on his shoulders. His remorse pushed him to move away, but he didn't, knowing that despite what she said or thought, the odds were high that their relationship would be irrevocably changed within a few hours. "It won't accomplish anything. Let it go. Focus on what's happening right now."

Even with everything they cared about in jeopardy, the strength Walter drew from her was immeasurable. He closed his eyes again, focusing on her presence, inhaling and exhaling deeply until his heart rate was back under control. The panic that clouded his mind started to subside, and within minutes, the absurdly simple clue he had been missing presented itself.

"I have to go," Walter said apologetically, but Paige was smiling.

"I figured." Her hands traveled up his neck and landed on his face, her thumb stroking his cheek briefly. The genius tried to memorize that look in her eyes—what he now recognized as love—knowing that it could, for many reasons, be the last time he ever saw it. "Do whatever you need to do, Walter. Just please be careful."


Walter jumped behind the wheel of his car, grateful that Cabe had the foresight to leave it in the parking lot. He'd barely started the engine when he instructed the Bluetooth to call Sylvester and waited impatiently for him to pick up.

"Walter?" the mathematician said nervously. "If you're calling for an update, we haven't—."

"Sly, I need you to come to the hospital," he interrupted, figuring this was an acceptable occasion to skip the social niceties. "There's something I have to take care of, but I don't want to leave Paige alone. You understand what she's going through. You can comfort her."

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Sylvester?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here." The younger genius let out a deep breath. "What about Collins?"

"I'll take care of Collins, just do what I'm asking." Walter paused before adding, "Please, Sly. I can't focus unless I know someone is there with her."

"Okay. What are you going to do?"

"I'll tell you if it works." He pressed a button to end the call and dropped his head back against the seat. It needed to work. He was running out of options.


Walter was at the garage in ten minutes, having broken just about every traffic law that existed or ever would exist. He parked crookedly in the alley, shoving the gear stick into park and slamming the door shut behind him.

Deputy Director Cooper had given Scorpion off-the-books access to certain resources, and Walter was grateful that the rest of the team was working from Homeland's offices. This, he had to do alone.

The kitchen. Surely there were other locations, but that was the only one Walter could be sure of. Collins knew Ralph's routine, knew to put that honey in the cabinet and when, and there was only one safe way to learn that information without exposing himself. The genius wondered how long the surveillance equipment had been in place. Weeks? Months? Before he and Paige were abducted the first time? The garage had to be wired for audio, at least, if not video as well.

He dropped his keys with a thud on the counter, his eyes darting around to look for a camera, but it would take him hours to find it, so he settled on a more efficient solution.

"You son of a bitch, Collins," Walter yelled, ensuring that his former partner could hear him loud and clear. "You want me, I'm right here. You're in control, that's what you want me to say, isn't it? Fine, you're in control. I'm ready to discuss your terms."

His shouts echoed around the garage before fading out in the empty space. Walter wondered if he had finally snapped and was simply a crazed person screaming desperately at no one. He dropped his head into his palms and grasped at his hair, the adrenaline draining from his body and making him acutely aware of his exhaustion.

The phone rang.