Paige busied herself in travel arrangements. They almost never flew when it wasn't for a job, and if Walter did want to go to the funeral, she wanted to make everything other than his father's death easy for him. She wrote down flight numbers, rates, and double checked his budget. There was one flight – with plenty of seats left – that would work perfectly with the schedule.

But she could only go over the same information so many times, and by the time Walter's car appeared through the window, pulling up to the garage, Paige swore there was a rut in the floor.

"Hi, Mom!" Ralph said as they came through the door.

Paige opened her mouth to ask how everything went, but the big grin on her son's face and the way he walked straight over to her and initiated a hug told the story. "Went well, huh?"

"It was great. It was so much fun. Everybody loved him."

Paige lifted her chin, her gaze going from Ralph to Walter. "Did they, now?"

"Yep." Ralph said. "He's going to tell you that he 'was satisfied with the response he got from my classmates.' I'm telling you that they loved him. He's the most popular guest teacher that school has had in a long time."

"Well, good," Paige said, ruffling her son's hair. "Glad to hear it."

"Are you okay?" Walter asked as he hung up his coat on the rack. "You seem a bit distracted."

"I do?"

"Yes. You're shifting your weight and you were wringing your hands when we walked in here. Considering a sizeable part of yesterday was spent assisting me in refining the skills needed to do what I did today, you, being a very goal oriented person, should be extremely focused on learning how your work paid off. But you're not entirely engrossed, which means something else is taking up some of your time. Something important."

"Well..." Paige didn't know why she was frustrated with the fact that Walter had picked up on it. All it was doing was getting her to the news faster, and she certainly didn't want to keep holding onto it. "Actually, there is something else. C – can I talk to you? In...private?"

Walter furrowed his brow. "...sure. Kitchen?"

"No." Paige shook her head. "Upstairs."

He shrugged, in a way that suggested he doubted the seclusion of the loft was necessary but he wasn't going to second guess her. "Okay."

The climb to the loft was a long one. Paige looked down at her feet, watching them take the stairs even though she'd done this thousands of times. Upon reaching the top, she wandered, forward and to the side, not even sure where in the loft she wanted to have this conversation. How does one tell someone that one of their parents are gone?

Walter cocked his head as he noticed the disturbed blankets on the bed, and then he looked at her with something like guilt in his eyes. "You didn't get any sleep last night."

"It's fine," she said. "You said the presentation went well."

"Yes, but..."

"Completely worth it. I promise."

He gave a slow nod. "Okay." Crossing over to the bed, he sank down at the foot of it. "Paige, what's the matter? You look...fretful. Distressed."

"Um..." She shoved her hands in her back pockets as she paced in front of him. "Walter, there's...there's no easy way to say this, but..." She stepped over to the bed and sat down next to him, angling her knees toward his. "Walter, you got a call from Ireland while you were with Ralph. It was your mother. Your father, he...he had a heart attack, and um..." she drew in a breath. "He...he didn't make it."

Walter didn't move. Paige searched his face for signs of a reaction, any reaction, but he stayed completely still. His eyes were trained just past her, but she didn't know if they were focused on anything in particular. She lifted her left hand and gently began to rub his back, scooting a little closer. "Walter?"

"I have to confess," he said, finally, still not looking at her. "I don't know what I was thinking you'd brought me up her to tell me, but it wasn't that."

"I'm sorry." Her hand continued to trail up and down his back.

He folded his hands, resting them between his thighs. "What are the arrangements?"

"They're burying him on Friday. There is a flight leaving L.A. tomorrow evening that would get us there middle of the day on Wednesday."

"Friday." Walter said. "That's a long time."

Of course he'd fixate on how much time would pass between death and burial. That was a known variable. She lowered her head, kissing him gently on the top of his shoulder. "I'm not trying to pressure you into going. Your mom just wanted me to tell you that she would really like to see you, especially right now."

Walter didn't respond for what felt like hours, but it couldn't have been more than a minute or so when he turned to look at her. "Will you go with me?"

She nodded, sliding her arm around his back and reaching her other one across her body to grab one of his hands. "Of course," she said softly, kissing him on the shoulder again. "I would never make you do this alone."

Walter bit his upper lip. "Thank you."

"Do you want to talk about anything you might be feeling?" She asked gently.

He shrugged. "I mean, I wasn't close to my father. Our relationship was good when it was shaky rather than fractured. I'm surprised, I mean, the life expectancy for men in Ireland is about seventy – eight years, and he is sixty – two. Was. Sixty – two. Rather. But..." he gave a brief shake of his head. "But we weren't close. So..."

"Why don't you stay over tonight?" She suggested, squeezing his hand. "You and Ralph could play his game, you always sleep well in that bed. If we're going to be traveling, you'll want to be rested."

"Is Sylvester coming?"

"I don't know what flight," Paige said, "but yeah, he's going to go."

"Good. My father would like it if he was there. Not that he has any way of knowing, whether or not any of us come." He bit his upper lip, looking back at her. "You'll stay with me, right? If...if everyone..."

There was a painful tug at Paige's heart. Last time they were in Ireland, over eighteen months ago now, she and he had barely been friends. She still hated herself for letting his neighbors bully him and doing almost nothing about it. "I have your back. I promise."

He gave her a fond smile. "I don't deserve you."

It was spoken as a compliment, rather than a statement of self – hatred. Paige smiled back. "Yes you do," she said, matter of factly, kissing him quickly on the cheek. "I'm going to go make some tea for Ralph so he can fight off that bug that's been flirting with his immune system since Sunday. He's got those midterms end of the week. Do you want some?"

"Just let me change and I'll be down in a minute."

"Okay." She squeezed his hand again before standing up and heading for the stairs.

Ralph was standing near the bottom of them, looking worried. "Mom, is everything okay?"

She knew that look in his eyes. He'd been thrilled when she and Walter had decided to be together. But with that high came the potential of a crash, and whenever he witnessed or knew about the two of them talking in low voices, in private, he worried that something was wrong. Paige fought down the anger at Drew that always bubbled up to the surface whenever she was forced to think about how insecure her son was in this respect.

She ran a hand through her son's hair. "Walter's father Sean passed away. It was a heart attack."

"Cardiac events are the leading cause of death for adult men in Ireland," Ralph said immediately.

Thirteen years with this boy, almost four years of knowing Walter and just shy of ten months of being with him romantically, and while Paige had come to expect statistics such as these and life expectancies to be rattled off when given bad news, she wasn't sure she would ever fully get used to it. "Yeah, well," she said, "Sean was quite the conformist." She looked up the stairs, then back at her son. "Walter and I are going to go to Ireland for a few days for his funeral. "I talked to Cabe on the phone and he said he'd be happy to stay at our place so you won't be alone and will have a familiar environment to study in."

Ralph nodded. "Okay. When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow. We'll be back on Saturday. Sylvester is going to go too, so Scorpion will be closed for business during that time. Anything small that comes up, Happy and Toby will be able to handle."

"And me."

"Midterms," Paige reminded him, an eyebrow raised playfully. "I'm gonna go make some tea for you."

"Thank you. Mom?"

She was already turned toward the kitchen. She pivoted back to face him. "Yeah?"

Ralph was staring up toward the loft. "Is Walter okay?"

Paige pushed her hands into her pockets. She honestly didn't know. What he said made sense – it was surprising given his father's age, but they probably weren't close enough for the death to really hurt. But his silence, the stillness...it was out of character for him. "I think so, Ralph. He just needs to process it all."

"Is he going to sleep over tonight?" Ralph looked hopeful. Paige knew the boy adored when Walter spent nights at the condo. Paige did too – for the same reason. It made it all feel extra real.

"Yeah, he is. I told him maybe you guys could play your game."

"Yes. We'll help him, Mom."

Paige smiled. "Yeah, we will, baby."