Walter led Paige up the stairs to the loft, his steps careful as he kept an arm lightly on her back, and his opposite hand holding hers and bearing her weight some, guiding her, he presumed party due to her having limited depth perception with her eye swollen shut. She hadn't spoken since collapsing into his chest downstairs, and while the silence between them was heavy, Walter didn't push her. Truth be told, he had no idea what to say, what to do. He'd never before felt this crippling fear for anyone, not even during their scariest cases. This… This was different. This wasn't a calculated risk safety concern on the job… random circumstances aligning to put them in danger. Someone intentionally assaulted Paige. Physically harmed her, by the bruising had violently choked her, hit her, had beaten up in a viscous attack. This was… personal. On some level, he knew she would talk when she was ready. Right now, he decided she needed space to process it. She needed a place to simply feel safe.
Somewhere, in the deepest trenches of his mind, he took some solace in her showing up here, something about being in the garage, with him, presented her with a sense of safety. Not that he was paying that much mind, but having an IQ as high as his meant multiple thought processes could take place simultaneously.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Walter pushed open the door to his loft, the stark but clean space he barely used beyond catching a few hours of sleep between missions, or running experiments in his lab. Leading her to where his bed sat, the covers tousled from when he'd awoken with a start.
"Here…" He said softly, gesturing toward his bed. "You can rest here tonight." He swallowed hard, wishing he knew what to say to her. She just stood there, blankly staring at the wall, lost in her inner turmoil. Making haste, he grabbed a spare set of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt from his dresser and laid them on the bed. "They'll probably be a little big, but you're welcome to them if you'd be more comfortable." Still, she showed no sign of even hearing him beyond briefly turning toward the clothing he'd set down. "Paige, if you need anything, I'm… I'm here. You can rest. I won't let anything happen to you."
Paige finally blinked up at him, her swollen eye getting puffier by the minute, the other still shining with unshed tears, her face one of distant pain. For a moment, he thought she might protest, but she nodded slowly, as if the weight of the day had finally crushed her. She didn't have the strength to argue.
"Thank you, Walter." She whispered, her voice shaky but sincere, as she picked up the t-shirt.
Turning to walk away, to give her privacy to change, her voice stopped him.
"Please… don't go."
He turned back, hesitantly, and caught the tear that dropped from her eye, her hands shaking again in fear.
"Okay. I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to."
She nodded lightly, before unbuttoning her shirt to change. Walter immediately turned away, not moving his proximity, but changing his view to offer some semblance of privacy to her. Though, he was sure she wouldn't have even noticed if he watched, she was so laden with thoughts.
He heard her gasp painfully, and instinct took over, turning back to check on her, her face was wincing in pain, and before him, he saw the same deep purple and black bruising of her face also covering her left side, down her ribs and side, as she stood in just her bra, struggling to put the t-shirt on, needing to lift her arms. She stifled a fresh sob, and he felt one rising in his own chest.
"I could help you, if you'd like? I'll be as gentle as I can." She didn't speak, just nodded ever so slightly, her chin pinched and shivering in silent torment. "Okay." Cautiously, he assisted in getting the shirt over her arms, and then over her head, trying to mask his emotional pain as she winced in physical pain. "There." Letting the shirt hang down, he gave her a forced, small smile, and turned away again as she grabbed the pants.
It took a few minutes, and him controlling the urge to turn back and help her again, but she managed to get her jeans off and the pajama pants on unassisted.
"I'll stay there--" He pointed to where the couch was, visible from the bed through the open shelving. "--on the couch. If you need me for anything, just say the word, okay?" Looking at the floor, she nodded.
She moved toward the bed, sinking down onto the mattress like her legs could no longer hold her up.
He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should leave her alone or stay, but he figured she'd ask for him if she wanted company. He turned to leave but paused. Something had been gnawing at him since the moment he found her downstairs. Slowly, he turned back, releasing a deep unsteady breath.
"Paige, you dont need to tell me what happened. But, uh, can you just tell me… um, where's Ralph? Is he safe?" He asked softly, the concern evident in his voice.
Paige's body tensed, her hand gripping the blanket on his bed. For a moment, she didn't answer, and his heart dropped. But then she let out a shaky breath.
"He's at Hunter's house. A sleepover. He's… he's safe." She said, her voice small, still unsteady. He was sure that was all she'd say, and he nodded in appreciation of the information, before turning away again, only to be stopped by her voice. "That-- That's why I came… here. I didn't… I didn't want him to see… me like this. I-I didn't… feel safe at home. I just didn't know where else to go." Her voice cracked on the last words, and she closed her eyes, pulling the blanket up around her like a shield.
Walter nodded, though she couldn't see him. Ralph was safe. That was one less thing to worry about. But still…
Kneeling down beside the bed, he softly, and gently, brushed the hair away from her face, so tender, so loving, so protective.
"I'm sorry for whatever happened to you tonight, Paige. But I am glad you felt you would be safe here." With one final stroke of her hair, he whispered before retreating away from the bed. "You are. You're safe here."
His mind kept circling the same question. Who had hurt her? What had happened? She hadn't said, hadn't even hinted at who was responsible for the brutality she'd suffered and the terror in her eyes. He wanted to ask. He wanted to press her for answers, to track down whoever had done this and make them pay, but he couldn't. Not now.
As he moved to the couch, his thoughts spiraled. Could it have been someone she knew? A random attack? Or… had Tim been involved? The idea sent a flash of anger through him, but he quickly dismissed it. Tim was thousands of miles away, stationed in Jordan for another two months. It couldn't have been him. Still, the thought of Paige being with him gnawed at Walter, the same jealousy he'd buried so many times rising to the surface.
Would she have called Tim if she wanted him to know? Would she have run to him if he were here?
The bitter part of him didn't want to think about it, didn't want to acknowledge the fact that Paige hadn't chosen him tonight out of love, but out of necessity. But another part, perhaps the part of him that knew her best, understood that right now, she needed safety, not romance. She had come to him because he was safe.
But what if it wasn't enough?
Walter's mind ran through options. Should he call Tim? Notify him that something had happened? But no… that didn't feel right. She would have called Tim if she wanted him involved. If she'd wanted his help, she would have turned to him. Besides, Walter didn't even like Tim. The guy had always been more interested in his impressions, on meddling with his team, than he ever really seemed interested in Paige or Ralph. No. He wouldn't call him.
Still, that left a nagging question of what to do next. Should he call Cabe? The Homeland agent could certainly help, but bringing in law enforcement, or anyone official, would probably feel like a betrayal to Paige. She hadn't even told Walter who had done this yet. Getting Cabe involved might only make her shut down more.
Walter paced the living room, the kitchen, back and forth, back and forth, frequently checking on Paige, who appeared to be asleep, his mind torn between doing what he knew was best for her and respecting her need for time and privacy. In the end, his instinct to protect her won out. He reached for his phone, pulling up the group chat with the Scorpion team. He would give her the space she needed while keeping everyone else out of the loop. For now, at least.
Scorpion closed for the day. Take the day off. No work tomorrow.
He stared at the message for a moment, then added, without explanation:
Enjoy the day off.
He hit send, knowing the team would have questions, especially Toby. But they trusted him. And he trusted Paige to tell him what she needed when she was ready. Until then, he would be here, within her sight line, waiting.