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Walter stared out at the street from his spot on the porch swing, a large cup of orange juice cradled in his hands, the cold beverage cooling his warm skin. August had just started bringing with it the heat wave that had encompassed most of July so the cold juice was a necessity. Plus holding the cup helped to stop the quaking in his hands which hadn't stopped since the shooting. He just couldn't get it out of his mind, Olivia's blood seeping from her onto the floor and onto Peter's chest as he held her so incredibly tight to him while he called her name like a mantra. He had then seen a sight that had nearly broken his heart, his son sobbing into the hair of the woman in his arms. And it was all because she had taken the bullets meant for him.

Pushing the thoughts aside, he pushed himself off the swing and ambled his way into the house which was completely silent, Peter having gone off with Dr. Brazen on yet another trip Walter had come up with just to get the annoying doctor away. She was slowly starting to grow on him like hair grows on a freshly shaved head, but he still preferred to be left alone. And to be honest, all he saw her as was a replacement for an irreplaceable person. He understood that she was there to help catch who did this to Olivia and to agent Booth but if anything, she was just getting in the way always asking questions that no one really felt like answering and pointing out the illogicality of things. She needed to just accept it and let them do their jobs. If they had any hope at all in finding out who did this that is. He just wanted to get the answers that they all needed and at the moment they were not very successful at doing that, though he had almost figured out exactly how the mind control was happening. It was pretty basic really, almost exactly like Tyler's mind control had worked on Peter not that long ago. It was mainly just a serious of stimuli that was either caused by taking pills like Tyler had or some other type of ingestible substance. Though admittedly this didn't get them any closer to the person using the mental stimulation drugs, or to why they were doing what they had done and would more than likely do again if not stopped.

He let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a groan and a sigh, putting his cup down and looking around the house. They had all been too out of it to have even considered cleaning and now that he really looked at the place he could see just how much an impact that had done on the normally obsessively clean house. The sink was filled to the point where dishes were leaning precariously, threatening to fall at any given moment. There was old food out on the table and counters and trail of clothing that appeared to go from the foyer to every other room in the house. He quickly made his way to the laundry room and grabbed an empty basket before collecting every article of clothing that he could see, soon having the basket full to its limit but stuffing just a little more into it before heading up the stairs to collect the clothes there as well. He had just gotten done with Peter's room before something white caught his eye. The cabinet beside Peter's bed was opened and he could see the corner of a white shirt sticking out of it. Going over, he picked it up and was instantly assaulted with the smell of old blood. It only took him a minute to realize just whose blood had coated the shirt, the revelation bringing stinging tears to his eyes. Gently, he closed the cabinet door and he placed the shirt on the top of the pile before carrying it all down the stairs and starting a load, putting the shirt to the side before pouring a cup of bleach onto it and leaving it to sit, watching the bleach slowly start to eat away at the crimson stain.

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Peter dropped the bag of things that Walter wanted on the table before shedding his coat and tossing it in the general direction of the couch. Dr. Brennan had opted to go back to the hotel she was staying in while Astrid, who had joined them during their shopping trip, had decided to head back to the house with Peter to check in on Walter.

"Where is he?" She asked, not seeing Walter anywhere.

"Walter!" Peter called out also not seeing the other man anywhere. Not getting a response, he started going through each room on the main floor before heading up stairs which was also void of his father. It was then that he realized just how clean the place was and that there was a pile of clothing on his bed. Making his way into his room, he suddenly stopped short when his eyes rested on the white shirt sitting on the top. He only owned one white shirt, so that meant…No, he wouldn't!

Peter practically ran over to the cabinet and yanked the door open, his heart instantly dropping into the pit of his stomach when full realization hit him, Walter had washed the shirt. He grabbed the shirt and unfolded it only to feel tears brim in his eyes when he noticed that the stain was completely gone, she was completely gone. Clutching the shirt tightly in his hands he stormed out of the room determined to find his father. He eventually found him outside in the yard with Astrid and stormed his way over to him.

"What the hell did you do?" He roared a watery fire in his greenish-blue eyes, the shirt clutched so tightly he wouldn't be surprised if his nails left marks in the fabric.

"What do you mean?" Walter asked a little confused until his he caught sight of the shirt. "It had blood all over it Peter."

"Oh Walter." Astrid sadly remarked when she saw the tears in Peter's eyes knowing that he had put the shirt away for a reason.

"Why did you take it out of the cabinet?" Peter spat out. "It wasn't there so that it could be washed, I put it there for a reason! I didn't want this washed!"

"I didn't know." Walter squeaked out, his eyes large at the sight of his son's pure unadulterated anger and sorrow. "The cabinet door was open and it was hanging out, I just thought…" But he didn't get to finish what he was saying before Peter had abruptly turned on his heel and angrily stalked away back into the house.

Walter went to follow him but was stopped by Astrid's out stretched arm.

"Let him go." She said softly.

"I didn't know." Walter barely whispered, his eyes downcast, staring at his shoes.

"I know that, and Peter knows that, he's just angry and sad right now." She explained. "Just give him a few minutes before you go looking for him."

"Why did he keep the shirt?" Walter suddenly wanted to know, sitting on one of the lawn chairs.

"It was her blood Walter." She shrugged. "It was something of her that he had."

Walter wiped at his eyes and nodded before standing up and heading into the house faster than she could react. He found Peter in his bedroom sitting on his bed and staring down at the shirt that was still in his hands. He knocked on the door and walked in, sitting beside his son.

"I didn't know."

"I know Walter."Peter barely managed to get out, not looking at him.

"You loved her didn't you?" Walter asked, getting a watery look from Peter as his answer.

"Walter?" Astrid said from the doorway. "Let's leave Peter alone for now."

"Oh, but I…"

"I'll be fine Walter." Peter cut him off, not looking at him. "Please just leave me alone."

"Oh, okay." Walter moaned, standing up and going to the doorway before glancing behind him to see Peter fall back onto his bed and pull the blanket over him and curl up, the t-shirt securely pressed against his chest. He swore he could see Peter's strong shoulders shake in a silent sob before he closed the door and went down stairs.