The next morning, the decision was made. Though the kiss from the night before still lingered between them, warm and comforting, and promise of the future they wanted, Paige had insisted, gently but firmly, that she needed to go home. It wasn't because she wanted to leave the safety of the garage or the closeness she had found with Walter, but because it was something she had to do. For herself. For Ralph. She had to reclaim her life, reclaim her space. But that didn't make the thought of it any less terrifying.

Walter, equally as firm, had insisted that he would come with her, at least for the first night.

"Just in case." He had said, his hand on hers as he spoke. "I'll stay on the couch. If you need anything, I'll be there. Like, baby steps."

Paige had agreed, knowing that it would help ease her anxiety. She didn't want to face her apartment alone, not the first time. Not yet.

Truth be told, she didn't want to ever step foot in there again, but she knew it was important, to be able to heal, process, and move forward, if she wanted a healthy future with Walter, there couldn't be skeletons hiding in the closet. Or her picturing other things hiding there…

The drive to the apartment was quiet. Ralph sat in the back seat, unusually silent, his eyes downcast as he fidgeted with his hands. Walter kept glancing over at Paige as he drove, his hand occasionally brushing hers in quiet reassurance. Paige stared out the window, willing her heart rate to slow down, her thoughts to calm, the strangling of her stomach to ease. The heavy weight of what they were about to face was in the air, thick with dread, like bricks of lead.

When they arrived, the familiar building loomed ahead of them, but it felt different now, weary, ominous. It wasn't home anymore, not in the way it had been before. The memories of playing in the small patch of grass out front with Ralph were replaced by the feel of the grass beneath her feet as she ran away, fearing for her life. The attack had left an invisible scar on the place, and as Paige stepped out of the car, her body froze with fear.

Walter was by her side immediately, his hand gently resting on her lower back as they walked toward the entrance.

"I'll be right here." he murmured softly, and Paige nodded, though her heart was racing.

Ralph walked ahead, quiet but composed, though Walter could see the tension in the boy's shoulders. He was processing it all, just like Paige, but in his own way. Ralph had always been logical, but even logic couldn't make sense of what had happened in their home.

They reached the door of the apartment, the yellow crime scene tape draping down, the scene having been cleared already, and Paige hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob. Walter watched her, his heart aching at the sight of her trembling hand. He could see the fear in her eyes, the memories already starting to surface.

"You don't have to do this, Paige." He said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

But Paige shook her head.

"Yes, I do."

She took a deep breath, turned the key in the lock, and slowly pushed the door open.

The moment they stepped inside, Paige was assaulted by the memories. The apartment looked exactly as it had when she left, because it was. Cabe had been here to gather clothing and personal items for her and Ralph, and crime scene investigators had documented the scene, collected evidence, but nothing had been moved. The place was frozen in time, a snapshot of that horrific night. Her senses were on overdrive, the sounds from that night loud and echoing in her ears, flashes of images in her retinas, the feel of her ribs breaking all over again, of the constricting of her throat until she couldn't breathe. All happening as though it were happening now.

The broken lamp lay in shards on the floor, the overturned furniture scattered haphazardly around the living room. The cream-colored rug, once pristine, was marred by small droplets of dried blood, reminders of the violence that had taken place. A dent in the wall, rough and jagged, caught Paige's eye, and her stomach twisted as she realized it was where her head had hit during the attack.

She felt like she couldn't breathe.

Walter stood behind her, his hand resting on her shoulder, grounding her. His touch was the only thing keeping her from collapsing under the weight of it all. His eyes swept over the room, taking in the devastation, the violence etched into every piece of overturned furniture, every broken object. His stomach clenched painfully, both at the sight of the destruction and at the thought of what Paige had endured here. It was even worse than what his mind's eye had envisioned. Taking In the scene, it was clear, she had been thrown around like a raging doll. Tim's rage was far more dangerous than he had believed.

Ralph walked in slowly, his sharp eyes scanning the room with a detachment that frightened Walter. The boy's logical mind was undoubtedly processing the scene, but the magnitude of it was clear in the way his shoulders tensed, in the way he lingered near the doorway, hesitant to step further into the space. Ralph's eyes stopped on the rug, where the blood droplets seemed to mock the normalcy of their once-safe home.

"This was… from you…" Ralph said quietly, his voice barely a whisper, his eyes locked on the rug.

Paige swallowed hard, her throat tight as she nodded.

"Yes."

Ralph didn't say anything else, but his face twisted with a mix of confusion, anger and fear, emotions he didn't know how to process. He was brilliant, but no amount of genius could make sense of this kind of violence, this kind of pain.

Paige took a shaky breath, her eyes sweeping over the room again. The broken lamp, the one Tim had thrown in his rage. The couch cushions tossed onto the floor from where he searched for evidence of her alleged affair. The bookshelf knocked over, books and photos scattered across the floor. Her eyes lingered on a framed picture of her and Ralph, the glass cracked, lying face down in the chaos. She remembered Tim yelling, accusing her, his voice filled with anger and betrayal. The memory of his hands on her throat, of the kicks, of the terror that had consumed her as she thought she was going to die. A single tear fell down her cheek, as she surveyed what once was her home.

She felt dizzy.

And nauseous.

Her knees buckled slightly, and Walter was there in an instant, catching her before she could fall. His arm wrapped around her, steadying her, pulling her close to him as she trembled.

"I've got you, Paige. I've got you." He whispered, his voice steady, though his heart was breaking. "You're okay. You're safe."

Paige leaned into him, her breath shaky as she closed her eyes, willing the memories to stop. She had known it would be hard to come back here, but she hadn't expected it to be this overwhelming. The walls seemed to close in on her, the echoes of that night reverberating through the space.

Ralph, standing by the door, finally broke the silence.

"Mom, I don't like it here." He said quietly, his voice fraught with emotion. "It feels… wrong."

Paige opened her eyes, looking over at her son, and her heart shattered all over again. He was just a child, too young to have to deal with something like this. She didn't want this place to be tainted for him, to become a place of fear instead of safety.

"I know, Ralph." She said softly, her voice wavering. "I don't like it either. But we can't let what happened control us. We need to take this space back. It's our home."

Ralph nodded, but the doubt in his eyes was clear. He wasn't sure how they were supposed to reclaim something that had been so violently taken from them.

Walter, still holding Paige close, spoke up.

"We can take it one step at a time. You don't have to do everything today. We're just here for tonight, and if you're not comfortable, we can leave. But if you want to try… I'll be here. I'll stay with you."

Paige looked up at him, her eyes searching his. His steady presence, his unwavering support, made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could face this. She wasn't alone. She had Walter, and for the first time since the attack, she felt a glimmer of hope.

"Okay." She whispered, nodding slightly. "Okay. We'll just… take it one step at a time."

Walter gave her a small, reassuring smile and squeezed her hand.

"We'll do this together."

Ralph, still standing by the door, finally stepped further into the apartment, though his steps were slow, hesitant.

"I'll help, too. If this is what you want, Mom, then we'll get out cleaned up and back to our home." He said quietly, his voice full of determination, despite the fear that marred him beneath it.

The air in the apartment was laden with tension as Paige, Walter, and Ralph worked in silence, trying to restore some semblance of order to the chaos that had once been their home. The shattered pieces of the lamp were swept away, the books and scattered belongings slowly returned to their places. But despite the physical effort to tidy up, there was the undeniable fact that no amount of tidying would make what happened here go away, and the unspoken pressure of that pressed down on them all.

Ralph moved mechanically, methodically placing books back on the shelf, though his eyes kept drifting to the bloodstains on the cream-colored carpet. He had been avoiding looking directly at them, as though if he didn't acknowledge the stains, maybe the reality of what happened would remain just out of reach. He just kept picturing how they got there, calculating the forces and velocity involved to cause such patterns.

Walter, on the other hand, had been focused on fixing whatever he could, righting the furniture, including repairing the leg to the coffee table, clearing away broken glass, anything that kept his mind occupied. But his eyes kept returning to Paige, watching her closely as she knelt on the floor by the rug, scrubbing at the bloodstains with a sponge and a bucket of soapy water.

At first, Paige had been quiet, her focus intense as she scrubbed at the dark stains, her hands moving in quick, sharp motions. But as the minutes ticked by, the bloodstains refused to fade, and something inside her began to unravel. She scrubbed harder, her movements becoming more frantic, her breathing shallow, her jaw locked and eyes welling. The reality of what she was doing, scrubbing her own blood from the place where Tim had hurt her, hit her all at once.

"Come on." Paige muttered under her breath, her hands shaking as she scrubbed harder. "Come on, just… just come out."

The bloodstains remained, the dark patches of dried violence mocking her, and the more she scrubbed, the angrier she became. Her breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest, and suddenly, the rug wasn't just a rug anymore. It was the place where everything had happened. It was the reminder of every terrible thing Tim had done to her. The very thing that stole her sense of safety, trust, belonging, her home. And it wouldn't go away.

"Come out!" Paige's voice broke, the words laced with desperation as she pressed harder, her knuckles white from the force of her grip on the sponge. "Why won't you just come out?!"

Ralph stopped what he was doing, his eyes wide as he looked over at his mom. She had been so strong since the attack, holding herself together for his sake. But now, seeing her like this, so raw, so unraveled, it frightened him.

"Mom?"

Ralph asked quietly, his voice small, unsure.

But Paige didn't hear him. She was lost in the frenzy of scrubbing, her breath coming in short gasps as she continued to fight with the carpet, as though the stains themselves were to blame for everything.

"Why won't you go away!!" She screamed, her voice breaking as her hands shook violently. "Just go away, damnit!!! Go away!"

Tears spilled from her eyes, and the scrubbing turned into something more violent, her hands now clawing at the carpet, as if trying to rip the blood from the fibers themselves.

"Why won't you leave me alone?!" She screamed, her voice cracking. Her sobs echoed through the apartment as her fingers tore at the rug. "Why!! Why did you do this to me!!! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!!! You stole everything from me!!!!!"

Walter dropped the glass he had been picking up and rushed over to her, his heart breaking as he saw Paige's resolve finally breaking before his eyes. Toby had warned him it would come. She couldn't hold it all in forever. But he hadn't expected… this.

"Paige… Paige, stop." he said softly, kneeling down beside her. "It's okay. You don't have to--"

But she didn't stop.

The sobs wracked her body, her face twisted in pain as she clawed at the rug, her voice rising in a frenzied crescendo.

"Why did you do this to me!" She yelled at the rug, as if it were Tim, her voice laced with anger, fear, and grief. "Why did you hurt me!"

Her hands slammed into the carpet, over and over again, the force of her blows driven by months of repressed emotion, all of the abuse from the words, to the threats, to the accusations, to the keeping tabs, to the physical violence all bubbling to the surface. Everything he had put her through. Everything she had glossed over to protect herself. Every time he had broken her down, mind, body and spirit. "Why did you take everything from me?!"

Ralph watched from across the room, his heart racing, his own tears flooding his eyes. His mom had always been strong, always composed, always so happy. Seeing her like this, so broken, terrified him. He took a small step back, unsure of what to do, his body frozen in place as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. He had never seen his mother like this. Had never seen anyone like this.

"Mom?" He whispered, but his voice was too quiet to reach her.

Paige's hands, now raw and red, the thick carpet burning her as she hit it, finally stopped, but she didn't stop crying. She turned suddenly, her eyes wild with emotion, and hit Walter's chest with the side of her fist, her sobs choking her words.

"Why did this happen to me?" She cried, hitting him again, though the strikes were weak, more out of desperation than anger. "Why? Why? What did I do? What did I do?" Her body shook violently with sobs, as she wailed with butterfly cries. Every single feeling of the last few months spilling out all at once.

Walter's own eyes filled with tears as he let her hit him, his heart breaking for her, for everything she had endured. His jaw twisted in anger for Tim, his own breath ragged as he tried and failed to maintain his composure.

"It's not your fault, Paige." He stated, so powerful in his delivery, so stern. "None of this is your fault. You did nothing."

Paige hit him again as she screamed a pained sound, though weaker this time, her body giving out from exhaustion and the weight of it all.

"I can't do this…" she sobbed, collapsing against him, her fists still trembling as she hit him one last time before finally going limp. "I can't…"

Walter caught her as she crumbled, pulling her into his arms as she wept uncontrollably against his chest. He held her tightly, his own tears falling silently as he rocked her gently, whispering words of comfort that he wasn't even sure she could hear.

"I'm here. I won't let you go." He murmured softly. "I've got you, Paige. I'm here, and I'm not going to hurt you."

Paige clung to him, her hands grasping his shirt so tightly as she pawed at him, her body wracked with sobs, and Walter just held her, his hand gently stroking her hair as he let her release everything she had been holding in for so long, gently rocking her back and forth. She had been so strong, for so many days, but this was too much. The bloodstains, the broken glass, the memories, they were all too much.

Ralph stood by the window, his face pale, his eyes wide with fear as he watched his mother fall apart in Walter's arms. He didn't know what to do, how to help her, how to save her from Tim, or from herself. He wanted to help, but he didn't know how. His mind raced, searching for logic, for something to grasp onto, but nothing made sense.

Walter looked up at Ralph, eyes wet, his heart aching for the boy, for the suffering he saw in his eyes.

"It's okay, Ralph." Walter said softly, his voice breaking as he spoke. "She's going to be okay. She just… she just needs to let it out."

Ralph nodded, though his expression was still full of fear and uncertainty. He didn't move from his spot at the window, his small hands gripping the book in his hands as he watched his mother cry. Frozen, unable to move, lost in his own mind, finally allowing himself to really process the thought of how close he'd come to losing his mom that night.

Paige's sobs eventually began to quiet, her body trembling as she melted into Walter's arms, exhausted from the emotional outburst. She pressed her face against his chest, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as she tried to calm down.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." Walter murmured with so much conviction as he held her tighter. "Don't ever be sorry. You've been through a major trauma, Paige. You have nothing to apologize for."

Paige didn't say anything else, just leaned against him, her body heavy with fatigue as her tears finally began to subside. She had broken down completely, but Walter was there, holding her together.

And as Ralph watched them from across the room, he heard Walter whisper to her.

"We will get through this together."

A/N: this chapter was extremely difficult for me to write, and yet, oddly cathartic. Change the names of the characters, and you've got part of my story. You can only be strong for so long before something like your blood on the carpet forces you to breakdown in front of the people you're trying to be strong for. It's a hard pill to swallow. I hope I did this justice, but just know that this was VERY difficult for me to articulate.