I've been getting requests on my last few fics to extend them into multi-chapter stories. That wasn't really what I had in mind with them, but this one will be a few chapters. I'm not sure how long yet. I want to get into the aftermath of Waige reconciling—not just them making up, but how they try to fix things. I hope I can do it justice. I can really only manage relatively short chapters right now, but they'll probably be longer than this one at least.

I also want to apologize for all my favorite writers (you know who you are) that I have not been leaving reviews for lately. Writing is just more therapeutic for now, but rest assured I'm still as much of a fan as I've always been.

It was…clean.

Walter wasn't sure what he was expecting. He'd resisted filling out the blank slate in his mind, and in that respect, the Centipede offices squared up perfectly. They were nothing but floor-to-ceiling windows streaming in bright sunlight and shiny metal desktops covered in neatly-arranged sticky notes and brand-new monitors. The sterility was a far cry from the garage and Walter couldn't believe his chaotic former genius associates were capable of sustaining such an orderly workspace.

He would have been glad never to step foot in Centipede, if not for Ralph. Paige had begrudgingly asked him to keep her son at the garage an additional night when her team's flight back from Washington was delayed. Somehow he'd wound up agreeing to bring Ralph to the office and caving in to the young genius's pleas for help carrying his astronomy project up the stairs.

"Mom!" Walter snapped back to reality as Ralph embraced his mother, grimacing theatrically as she kissed his cheek.

"Hey, baby." Her warm smile seemed to dissipate the instant she looked up. "Hello, Walter."

"Hello," he said stiffly, reminding himself to take a breath. It wasn't like he hadn't seen her; he saw her often. That was an unavoidable side effect of maintaining a relationship with Ralph and competing over the same lucrative contracts. But each time was the same as the first, his nerves on painful edge as he choked out polite conversation. He could treat her like a stranger. It didn't mean he could make himself feel it. "I was just helping Ralph with his…"

"I've got it, thanks." Ralph shot his mentor a knowing look as he easily lifted the model out of Walter's hands and carried it into Paige's office. The genius found it curious that he didn't seem to struggle at all.

Paige cleared her throat, her voice taking on the same professional tone she used with clients. He'd always thought it sounded odd, almost fake. He supposed it was, in a way. "Thank you for taking care of him. I'll make sure his babysitter can pick him up in the future. I won't put you out again."

Walter pressed his lips together, insulted by the insinuation that he could ever view Ralph as a burden. "It wasn't a problem. I don't mind."

"Still. It's not fair of me to ask that of you." There was a time she hadn't hesitated to entrust him with her son. Then again, he supposed he was fortunate she hadn't removed the young genius from his life altogether.

Having Ralph makes me feel like at least everything hasn't gone to hell after—

Walter swallowed his reply. If she wanted forced civility—and her purposeful lack of expression suggested she did—he would play along. It was probably a mistake that he'd ever attempted a deeper connection than this in the first place. "Ralph wants to come over Tuesday night. There's an event at the planetarium. Is that alright?"

"Sure. I'll drop him off after school," she said with a nod before turning around and walking away.

If Walter believed in such absurd philosophies as karma, he might be led to assume that he'd done something terrible that necessitated two trips to the Centipede offices in one day.

He'd kicked himself the second he returned to the garage and noticed Ralph's backpack sitting conveniently by the door. They were so preoccupied with his science project that his other belongings got lost in the shuffle. He still had a key to Paige's apartment, but it felt too invasive to let himself in if they weren't there and he couldn't very well leave it on their doorstep.

Walter braced himself as he punched in the code he'd watched Ralph enter earlier—Paige was lucky he wasn't the type of person to resort to corporate espionage—and waited for the security system to disarm before he stepped inside. Ralph would stop there in the morning before school. Just like he used to spend time with the team at the garage, what seemed like a century ago.

It was quieter than he anticipated. Nearly silent, actually. It was logical to assume that the geniuses had gone home shortly after their return to Los Angeles, but there was no sign of Ralph either. Perhaps the apartment would have been a more efficient stop…

Walter's overactive thoughts silenced at the sound. He recognized it instinctively and his stomach plummeted even before he spied her at her desk, hands cradling her head. "P-Paige?"

She bolted up from her seat, keeping her back to him as she sniffed and wiped frantically at her face. "Jesus, Walter. What are you doing here?"

"I came to…Ralph…" He abandoned his halfhearted explanation and stepped forward, blurting out the question he could never beat around. "Why are you crying?"