Walter stayed with Paige for a long moment after she finished telling him about the nightmare, the heaviness in the air thick between them. He wanted to say something, to comfort her, but nothing felt right. His words frequently failed him, and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that in this moment, he couldn't fail. The only thing he knew for sure was that she needed more than he could give on his own.
"Paige…" He began calmly, trying to keep his voice relaxed, even though his insides were churning. "I think I should take you to the hospital. They can check you out, make sure you're okay--"
She shook her head before he could finish.
"No. No hospital. Please, Walter… I don't want to go there. I can't. Please."
The fear in her voice was palpable, her body tensing again. Her eyes swirling with trepidation and pleading. Walter sighed, not wanting to push her, but deeply concerned about her physical wellbeing.
"Okay… okay…" He murmured, his hands up in reassurance as his mind raced for alternatives. "Then how about I call Toby? He could come over, check you out? He's not going to make it a big deal. Just to make sure nothing's broken, and--"
"No!" Paige's voice was firmer now, but there was a tremble underneath. "Please, Walter… No. I don't want anyone else to know. Not Toby, not anyone."
Walter clenched his jaw, the helplessness gnawing at him. He wanted to argue, to convince her that she needed professional help, but he could see it in her eyes, she wasn't ready for that. Wasn't ready to be exposed. Not yet. As much as it pained him, he knew he needed to go at her pace, take her lead. She had already had all of her power and control taken from her once tonight. Her coming here, to him, meant something. She was trusting him to not just keep her safe from whomever did this to her, but to protect her secret. He wouldn't, he couldn't let her down.
"I-I understand. It's okay, Paige. It's okay." He finally said, his voice low, trying to calm her, and tentatively taking her hand to give a gentle squeeze of assurance. "I won't call Toby. I won't tell anyone. But how about I get you something for the pain?" She didn't argue, which he took as an affirmative. "Okay… I'll be right back, okay?"
Paige nodded, her body still trembling slightly as she wrapped her arms around herself, and Walter headed toward his kitchen, stealing protective glances of her over his shoulder as he went, his mind spinning with a mix of concern and frustration. He hated that she was hurting, hated even more that he couldn't fix it.
In the kitchen, he grabbed a glass of ice water and rummaged through the cabinet for the Tylenol, finding his first aid kit in the process. As he opened the freezer, he spotted the familiar, crumpled bag of frozen peas tucked in the corner. He grabbed it and a dish cloth without a second thought, it had been his go-to ice pack after countless reckless stunts during their more dangerous missions. It wasn't perfect, but it would do.
With the Tylenol, first aid kit, water, and peas in hand, Walter made his way back to the bedroom, where Paige was still sitting on the edge of the bed, her body slumped as though the weight of everything was pressing down on her, physically pushing her down.
"Here." Walter announced, worried he would startle her as he kneeled in front of her again. He handed her the water and Tylenol, which she took with shaky hands, swallowing the pills with a grimace. Then he handed her the frozen peas, offering a small, awkward smile. "It's all I've got, but it gets the job done."
Paige gave a weak smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. Well, the one eye that would even be capable of expression.
"Thanks." She whispered, pressing the peas gently against her swollen cheek and eye with a painful flinch.
Walter watched her for a moment before moving to the first aid kit, sitting back down beside Paige, and setting the kit on the bed. He fumbled with the latches, trying to hide how much his hands were shaking. It wasn't the first time he'd treated wounds, far from it, given their line of work, but this was different. This was Paige, and seeing her like this, broken and bruised, was almost more than he could bear. All he could see looking at her was the Paige that was always so bright and cheerful, her smile that lit up a room, the Paige that had beseeched his heart from the get go, the eyes that made him rethink every belief he held on life and love. The Paige he knew wasn't here. This Paige… this broken, beaten mess, he didn't like it.
He wanted his Paige back.
"Let me clean up the cut there on your brow. It's deep, and we don't want it getting infected."
Paige again nodded silently, and Walter got to work, carefully dabbing antiseptic on a cotton swab. He leaned in, gently cleaning the dried blood from the gash above her eye. As he worked, his hands shook slightly, not from nerves, but from the mix of anger and sadness roiling in his chest.
He would kill whoever did this to her.
His fingers brushed lightly against her skin, and he felt her flinch, though she didn't pull away. He worked as carefully as he could, but the silence between them felt oppressive.
"You know, I'm not really great at this kind of thing…" Walter said, his voice a bit too loud in the quiet room. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I mean, I've read a lot of first aid manuals and… helped Sylvester a few times when he got hurt. Bandaged my own wounds, of course. But, uh, I've never really been good at the whole… bedside manner part. More of Toby's forte I suppose…" He hated small talk, but he hated the silence more. Paige was always talking, always keeping the conversations moving, always forcing him out of his head.
He didn't like silent Paige.
Paige gave a small, tight-lipped smile, though it didn't reach her eyes.
"You're doing fine, Walter."
He nodded quickly, focusing back on her brow.
"Right. Good. I just… don't want to hurt you more than… well, more than you already are."
The antiseptic must have stung, because she winced, sucking in a breath, and Walter immediately stopped.
"Sorry! I'm sorry, Paige." He blurted, his eyes wide with concern.
"It's okay." she whispered, her voice strained. "It's not your fault."
He swallowed hard and resumed his work, but his mind wouldn't stop racing. He wanted to say something comforting, but all he could do was make awkward, fumbling attempts at conversation, trying to fill the unbearable silence.
"Uh… I usually use these frozen peas after I've done something reckless, you know? The things you usually scold me for… Jumping out of moving vehicles or… dodging explosives. I, um, don't recommend that, by the way." His voice trailed off as he realized how ridiculous he sounded. But to his surprise, Paige's lips twitched into a faint smile, despite the pain etched on her face.
"Reckless doesn't seem like your style…" She muttered, her voice barely audible. "Calculated risk, sure. But reckless? You? Never."
Walter gave a small, nervous laugh.
"Yeah, well, sometimes I take calculated risks that turn out to be more reckless than I planned. You know how it is." He shrugged, trying to act casual, but his chest felt as though an elephant was sitting on him. He couldn't stop thinking about how wrong it was that Paige had been hurt like this, who could have done it, why they would do it…
When he finished with her brow, he used steri-strips to hold the wound closed, then pulled out some gauze and gently bandaged the cut. His fingers lingered for a moment longer than necessary, brushing her hair out of her face as he secured the bandage in place. He noticed how quiet she had become again, her eyes distant, as if she wasn't really there anymore.
"Paige…" He offered quietly, feeling her gaze on him, after a few minutes of silence. "Are you sure you don't want me to contact the police? Or… maybe Cabe? He could help. He'd know what to do."
Paige froze, her fingers tightening on the bag of peas. She looked away, staring at the floor.
"No." Her voice was barely a whisper, and a single tear fell from her good eye. "No, please. I can't… I can't do that, Walter."
He felt a sharp pang in his chest, wanting desperately to talk logic and reason into her, to explain how important it is to get authorities involved early if you want to secure a case, evidence, get a conviction, but the fear in her voice stopped him. Instead, he just nodded, his mouth forming into a tight frown. While his knowledge pertaining to acts of violence on women was limited, he wasn't a complete moron either.
"Okay. You don't have to make any decisions right now. I'll be here for however you want to handle things."
They lapsed into silence again as Walter finished cleaning the cut and carefully placed a bandage over it. His heart ached seeing her like this, so fragile, so unlike the strong, determined Paige he'd always known. So many thoughts, each more horrifying than the last, were striking him. Then, a question began to gnaw at him, one he didn't want to ask but knew he had to. His hands stilled, and he glanced at her, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
"Paige… I need to ask you something." She looked at him, her eyes still red from crying, and his stomach flipped. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the question he dreaded. "Were you… were you sexually assaulted?"
Paige's face crumpled for a brief moment, and Walter's stomach stopped flipping, but rather twisted into painful knots as he waited for her answer. She closed her eyes, shaking her head as a tear slipped down her cheek.
"No." She whispered, her voice barely audible, her eyes unable to meet his. "He didn't do… that."
Relief surged through him, his breath coming out in a long, shaky exhale. He hadn't realized how tightly he'd been holding his breath until that moment.
"I'm so sorry I even had to ask." Walter said quietly, his voice filled with guilt.
Paige shook her head, her voice thick with emotion.
"No, it's… it's okay. I get why you needed to know. I guess I should be grateful…" She shifted slightly, hugging her arms around herself again, hiding her eyes from him. He didn't know what to say to that. He was grateful she wasn't also sexually assaulted, but it didn't diminish what she went through. Her injuries showed how severe of a beating she took, how close to death she came. The deep purple necklace in the shape of a hand around her neck told him how easily this could have turned out differently.
"I'm just grateful you're alive… that you came here."
"I just… I didn't know where else to go. I don't even remember getting here. I remember running from the condo. I just… ran. I think I walked here. I don't even know how I made it without thinking."
"You were likely experiencing shock…" She looked at him expressionless, and his nerves got the better of him, defaulting to overtalking and explaining to calm himself and ease the tension of the moment. "Ah, okay, so imagine your brain is like a highly sophisticated supercomputer." She gave the slightest tug of the corner of her mouth, and he continued cleaning the blood from her forehead. "Normally, it's running all these complex programs, emotions, sensory processing, decision-making, in smooth, parallel threads. But when a traumatic event happens, it's like someone has overloaded the system with an unexpected, massive input. All the circuits get jammed. Your brain's error-checking algorithms are now in overdrive, and it's not sure which task to prioritize, so it tries to do everything and nothing at once. This is shock." A barely perceptible nod was his only encouragement to keep talking. He wondered if on some level, it was comforting to her as well.
"Well, in this state, your system temporarily reroutes energy from things like complex emotions and high-level thinking to focus on survival basics, like breathing and keeping your heart beating. It's as though your brain has triggered safe mode: minimizing functions to protect itself from data overload while it tries to process what just happened. And just like a supercomputer, your brain will recalibrate. It's built for resilience. Eventually, it'll start troubleshooting, closing unnecessary processes, and slowly, safely restarting those higher functions. So, while it might feel like everything's crashing right now, your brain is quietly rebooting, adapting, and healing in the background. Just give it time; it's performing some very advanced self-repair."
"Self-repair. Right. I guess I need that." She sounded so defeated, so sad, so… not her. "I'm sorry. I, uh, thank you… for explaining."
Walter's heart broke at her words. He couldn't imagine the terror that had driven her to flee in the middle of the night, bruised and battered, walking miles without even realizing it. His throat tightened, and he reached out, gently taking her hand in his.
"You don't need to apologize." He said softly. "I'm just glad you're here, Paige. You did the right thing coming here, and I am glad that even in a state of shock, you knew this was a safe place."
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears, and for a moment, the heaviness of everything they weren't saying hung in the air between them. But Walter didn't push. He knew she needed time. His gaze dropped to her lip, where a nasty split had formed, and he felt his fists clench in anger. He could barely stand to look at it. His hand hovered in the air for a moment, unsure if he should even ask.
"Paige…" He murmured softly, "I uh, I need to clean the cut on your lip." Her fingers rose to touch her lip, as if just then realizing she was injured there, a wince, followed by a swallowing of tears, was all the response he got. "I'll be gentle, I promise."
She gave a small nod, not meeting his eyes, and Walter's heart ached even more. Carefully, he dipped a cotton pad in antiseptic and reached up to tend to her lip, his hand trembling slightly. His thumb gently brushed the side of her mouth as he worked, wiping away the dried blood from the cracked skin. He swallowed hard, his jaw tight, because all he could think about was the only times he had ever touched those lips.
It had been brief, just a kiss as an experiment, nothing serious… or so they told themselves, but it had stayed with him like a barnacle on a boat at sea. He thought about it all the time. Her lips had been soft, warm, tasted of cherries, and he had spent months trying to forget how it felt to kiss her, how badly he had wanted more. Then she had saved his life with those lips, kissing life into him, not romantic, just life saving, but it felt electric and like she was breathing a lot more than oxygen into his lungs. But now, seeing them bruised and swollen, it made his stomach churn with anger and sorrow. He hated the thought of anyone causing her this pain, maiming her.
He had kissed those lips once, and now someone had taken that softness and crushed it.
His fingers trembled as he finished cleaning the cut, dabbing it gently with the antiseptic, trying not to let his mind linger too long on the memories.
"You're, uh… you're the strongest person I know, you know?" He said awkwardly, breaking the silence again as he reached for the gauze to cover the wound. "I mean, not just mentally, but physically too. I've seen you survive some wild experiences... But… this... this is different. And I just thought you should know that."
Paige didn't say anything, just gave a small, tight nod, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Walter wished he knew what to say, something more meaningful, but the words wouldn't come.
After bandaging her lip, he sat back slightly, surveying his work. He'd managed to clean and cover most of the cuts and bruises, but there was still the deep pain in her eyes that no amount of bandaging could fix. He felt useless, sitting there with his little first aid kit, trying to patch her up when what she really needed was so much more.
His eyes softened as he looked at her, his voice gentle but filled with concern. "Paige… if you need anything else, just say the word. You're safe here. I won't let anything happen to you."
Paige met his gaze for a brief moment, and he could see the gratitude in her eyes, even though her pain was still so overwhelming.
"Thank you, Walter. For all of this." She whispered softly.
"You don't need to thank me. I'm just glad you're here." He paused, feeling a knot of emotion form in his throat. "And I'll always be here, Paige. For whatever you need." He lingered for another moment before finally standing up, letting out a deep breath. "Try to get some rest," he added quietly. "I'll be right out there if you need me."
As he left her alone in the bedroom, Walter's mind continued to race. Whoever had hurt her had no idea who they were dealing with. And if Paige wasn't ready to fight back yet, Walter sure as hell would be there to protect her until she was.