And here we are, the last chapter! I appreciate you all sticking by me while I slowly cranked this story out. When you're done, check out its sequel, Burned!

P.S. My song for this chapter was "Better Love" by Hozier, if you're like me and need the whole experience. Okay, seriously, starting the chapter now. (Review please!)

"You can change your mind, you know."

Even though he'd been watching her for the better part of an hour as the team said their goodbyes—he was certain that even Happy had gotten emotional during a split-second embrace with the liaison and her son—Walter was still startled when Paige spoke. Her voice was beautiful. He couldn't stop thinking that, no matter what she was saying. He'd always considered her voice lovely, but the genius appreciated it so much more now, after he believed he might never hear it again.

Paige stepped forward, but she sensed how tightly Walter was wound and maintained a few feet of distance between them. "You know that we trust you. If this is what you want, we'll do it. But I still think we'll be safer with the team."

"I think we've proven that's not true," Walter said, but the words sounded weaker than he intended. He was confident in the logic. He'd run the scenarios and made the plans and calculated the odds of success. He should have sounded more certain, but his mouth was dry and blood was pumping loudly in his ears, making speech somewhat difficult. "I can't force you to do this, Paige, so I guess…I guess I'm begging you." The urge to move toward her was so strong that he had to press his back farther into the sharp metal shelves he was leaning on to counter it. "I don't want this either, but you know the alternative. If Collins had succeeded in hurting you…if he did succeed, in the future…b-because of me, I would…"

"Shut down," Paige finished, nodding understandingly. He'd come close enough to that when Megan died—she didn't want to imagine what could happen if she and Ralph were no longer a part of his life.

He shrugged, but it was a gesture of helplessness rather than apathy. "It's the only way I know to keep you safe."

"I know." Paige wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her palms along the sleeves of her sweater. There felt like an ocean of distance between her and Walter already, and she hadn't even left the garage yet. "Are you sure you can't come with us to the airport?"

The genius was so tempted to say yes, but none of his scenarios revealed that to be a viable option if he was going to stay on track with his plan. "I wish I could, Paige, but I—."

"I understand," Paige interrupted, offering him a smile that didn't reflect in her eyes. "Clean break." Walter's face fell, and she took another hesitant step forward, planting her fingers on the desk next to her to restrain herself. "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant."

Walter crossed his arms, mirroring her body language, before reaching one hand up to rub his face. He'd gotten slightly more rest over the last three days, while Paige and Ralph finished healing, but he could still feel the exhaustion all the way down to his bones. "I know that I, uh, I'm asking you to wait, but I understand if you can't—I mean, if you don't…"

He trailed off, a silent plea in his expression, but Paige just shook her head gently. "Walter, when this is over, Ralph and I are coming home to you. Okay? Nothing is going to change that."

"Okay," the genius replied, glancing down and letting out a relieved breath. They lapsed into momentary silence until a pair of small feet shuffled down the stairs from the loft and Ralph stepped between them.

"I told Ferret Bueller we wouldn't be gone very long," he announced, adjusting the strap of a duffel bag nearly as large as him over his shoulder. "Right?"

Walter smiled, crouching down until he was slightly shorter than Ralph. "Right." He reached out to ruffle the young genius's hair. "You have everything you need?"

"I think so."

"Just remember to be careful on the internet, alright, buddy? Make sure you're always using the encryption software I gave you."

Ralph blinked, his deep brown eyes thoughtful under his sweeping eyelashes. "I could help you find Collins, you know," he said simply. "I'm not afraid of him."

Walter felt like someone had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart. He was determined to stay calm for Ralph, not to betray any of the fear and sadness he felt, but that was becoming more difficult by the minute. "I know. And one day you'll bringing down all kinds of bad guys like Collins. But right now, this is how you help the team. By taking care of your mom and staying safe."

Ralph fiddled with the strap again, his fingers finally settling on the black fabric before he looked up and said, "Got it."

Paige cleared her throat. "Why don't you go put your stuff in the car, honey? Cabe's already waiting for us."

Walter drew Ralph into a hug, squeezing him once before releasing and watching him disappear out the door of the garage. It was just him and Paige now. The genius knew this point would come, but he was still clueless about how to approach it. If there even existed the correct words for this situation, they were lost on him, as usual.

"Happy gave you the burner phones? The IDs?"

Paige nodded, lifting up her purse in demonstration.

"Good." He shoved his hands into his pockets as he pushed himself up off the floor. "Happy's the only one who knows where you're going. She's, uh…she's the only one of us that Collins can't break." Walter thought that focusing on the facts about Paige's departure would soothe him, somehow, but they had no effect except to make his throat feel even tighter. "The less contact you have with us, the less likely that you can be tracked. But there's a secure line you can call if you need help."

"I know. Happy showed me." Paige wished Walter would stop avoiding her gaze, even though she knew the reason behind it. She just wanted to see him look at her again—that way that always shot right through her. "And when you find Collins? When it's safe?"

She knew the answer. She just needed to hear him say it.

"I'll be on the first flight out to get you," Walter said seriously. "I promise."

There wasn't even a chance he'd break his promise. She was certain of that.

Another long moment of quiet passed. She wasn't sure of the appropriate response to this situation, either, but she absolutely couldn't leave things like this, awkward and unfinished and painful even though neither of them wanted it to hurt this much. "Can…are you going to kiss me?"

It wasn't what she'd planned to say, but she didn't take it back. Paige was pretty sure she was going to fall apart if she couldn't touch Walter before she left. His eyebrows raised slightly as he straightened up in surprise. "We both know…" The genius cleared his throat. "If I do that, it's going to be harder. A lot harder."

"You're right," she said softly. Walter was disappointed to hear the words from her, even though he knew it was the logical course, but he caught the flash in her eye just before she muttered, "Screw it, I don't care."

In an instant, her lips were on his, her purse forgotten on the floor and the force of her body making him stumble backward into the shelves. There was no way he'd push her away now, and if she was willing to accept the consequences of this, the least he could was make the moment worth it. Walter slid his hands around to her back and crushed her against him, using her quiet gasp to gain entry with his tongue. It was all he would have for weeks, maybe months—there was no way to know—and he needed his eidetic memory to capture every piece of her. Her taste, her scent, the pressure of her mouth, that little noise she made in the back of her throat, the strands of her hair tickling his hand as it moved up to the back of her head. He never wanted to forget.

She released him a second later, breathless and flushed, only to grasp the back of his shirt collar with her fingers as she buried her face in his neck. "I love you, Walter." She sighed—not the happy, contented sigh he enjoyed hearing when he held her, but something more desperate. "I love you so much. And so does Ralph. All we want is to be with you. Never let Collins make you believe anything different, okay? Don't let him get into your head."

Don't give in. The future he'd dreamed of with Paige and Ralph—the one that suddenly flooded his thoughts in vivid detail—depended on him going against Collins and winning. He couldn't fail this time.

"Okay." Walter realized how tightly he was gripping her and dropped his hands to his sides, afraid that if he didn't, he might not let go at all. "I love you."

He wasn't creative with the words, but Paige never once doubted that he meant them. She lifted her hand up to his face and trailed her thumb along his cheekbone, memorizing the sensation even though she wouldn't remember quite as well as him. "I'll see you soon."


Walter stared blankly at the bowl of cereal on his desk. Cabe had placed it in front of him with a how long has it been since you've eaten? and a concerned pat on the shoulder, but that was thirty minutes earlier and the contents of the bowl were probably soggy by now. He pushed it aside. It was true that he hadn't been sleeping or eating much in the past week, even though Happy and Cabe assured him that Paige and Ralph made it safely to their destination and had more than enough funds to enjoy what amounted to a long, well-deserved vacation.

But Collins was radio silent. Walter knew he should stop spending long nights in front of the computer, reviewing every ounce of data they had ever collaborated on, tracing his background thoroughly, looking for a trace of him. Mark wasn't dead, but he was a ghost.

It was on nights like this—close to nine p.m., Walter realized, even though Cabe had given him granola because it was all they had in the garage—when he wondered if he'd made the right choice in letting her go. The search could last much longer than he anticipated. And running at Collins like this, head-on, meant he might not survive to fulfill the promise he made.

But he'd accept any sacrifice to protect his family.

Walter was almost relieved to be drawn out of his thoughts by a knock on the door. It was odd for the team not to use the code to get in, but it was after business hours—they were likely trying to be respectful of his boundaries.

Well, not Toby, then.

The genius didn't bother to check the peephole. He combed through his coarse hair quickly before pressing down on the metal handle and swinging open the door.

"You look like hell."

Walter swallowed hard.

Collins cracked a half-smile. "Don't worry, you're not hallucinating. Although it seems like it has been a while since you've slept." He pressed on the other side of the door, easing his way past Walter, who was too stunned to speak. He reached the middle of the office before spinning around and holding out his arms, palms up, wrists joined together. "I assume you'll want to restrain me?"

Walter let the door shut behind him with a clang, staring dumbly at Collins. Despite his former partner's insistence, part of him still believed that Mark was in his head, a product of too many hours spent obsessively studying Collins's life. Taking slow steps forward, he stopped less than a foot from the disgraced genius and pulled back his arm, blinking in surprise when his fist connected with Mark's very real jaw.

"Ow," Collins said dramatically, rubbing the area with one hand. "Well, at least we got that out of the way."

A rush of satisfaction rolled over Walter, and he stepped a little closer, his hand balling back into a fist. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."

Mark scoffed, waving his hand dismissively as if the question barely warranted consideration. "Because if you were going to, you would have done it years ago. And also because I have certain…assurances in place." Walter stiffened, but Collins merely rolled his eyes. "Relax, I haven't gone looking for your perfect little dollhouse family. Yet. I came here for a civilized conversation."

He pulled out two chairs, settling into one and pushing the other toward Walter with his foot, motioning for him to sit down. Even Walter wasn't sure what compelled him to take the seat instead of tackling Collins to the ground or lunging for the phone, but Mark's eerily calm tone made him reasonably sure that he didn't have the upper hand. With Collins, he never quite did.

"So." Mark leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. "I'm sure you have questions, Walter. I think it's time we talked."