Author's note: I must be in revelation mode lately because once again, the, uh, stuff is going to hit the fan.

And oh, yeah, Toby had a mind of his own in this chapter. His behavior wasn't anything I had planned or even considered before I started writing his scene. But I liked how the doc was thinking so I let him do his thing.

Also, I added some reminders Happy is six months pregnant at this point of the story. It's mostly for myself, since I keep forgetting.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

He was in a hospital.

Even barely conscious, Walter could recognize the telltale signs. Beeping monitors. The strong odor of antiseptic lingering in the air. The semi-upright position in which he was lying. And perhaps the compelling clue of all. . . Pain.

He hurt everywhere. The aching in his head and upper body were the worst. And familiar. A frightening yet impossible thought seared his brain. No. . . It would mean everything that had happened since. . . He couldn't just be waking up after suffering an arrhythmia in the parking lot of the. . .the motel. . .where. . . No. . .

He couldn't do it, couldn't deal with. . .the whole nightmare. . .all over again. He knew he wasn't strong enough, didn't know if he could handle losing Paige. . .

Paige. Where was she? If he hadn't just awakened from a eighteen month long coma. . . she'd been with him. . . In the car. . . Pain stabbed his head as he tried to remember exactly what had happened.

"Wh. . .Where. . .?" The word tore its way out of his dry as a desert throat and he tried to swallow but it hurt so much he was positive he'd been intubated at some point.

"Where are you?" Toby's voice jarred him into opening his eyes. Blinking rapidly to adjust to the brightness of his surroundings, he could make out the rest of the team; Happy, Sly, Cabe. . .

The shrink stood closest to the bed. "You're in a hospital in Barstow," he stated before asking, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I. . . Like I was hit by a truck," he managed to get out.

Someone's laugh penetrated the fuzziness in his head. "Good," said Toby, "because that's exactly what happened to you." Walter noticed then the other man held a clipboard from which he began listing his injuries. Dislocated left shoulder. Wrenched right knee and ankle. Mild neck trauma. Numerous bruises and lacerations.

". . .and you really did a number on the left side of your head, 197. Subdural hematoma. Luckily you didn't need to be trepanned, the swelling went down on its own. Good thing your head is a hard as a diamond."

"Where's. . ." A raw cough interrupted his question.

A cup of water was thrust into his face. "The nurse said you could have something to drink when you woke up," said Toby.

The lukewarm water provided instant relief. "Where's Paige?" he asked once he finished drinking.

Dread filled him as he watched them all glance at each other, a mixture of concern and confusion on their faces. Happy opened her mouth to speak but snapped it back shut as the doc shook his head.

"Don't you remember?" he asked in his best bedside manner voice. "She's not here. She's been out of your life for over a year and a half. You remember that, right?"

"No, that can't be right," Walter insisted. Had something happened to Paige? What if she was. . .dead. . .and they didn't want to tell him. "She was with me. We. . ."

"You went to Vegas by yourself," said Happy, her expression grim.

A wave of nausea passed over him. Why wouldn't they tell him? "No, she was with me. She must be hurt too. Please," he pleaded again.

"It's all right, buddy." The shrink pointed toward the door. "I'll go snag a nurse and we'll get this straightened out, okay?"

Toby took Walter's grunt as assent of his plan and walked out of the room, motioning to the others to follow him. Once they had assembled in the deserted hallway, he began speaking in a hushed voice.

"Guys, I think Walt's suffering from retrograde amnesia."

"Amnesia? But he knows who he is. And he knows who we are," stated Cabe.

"True, but the trauma to his brain could have cause him to forget the past eighteen months," Toby explained. "I wouldn't be surprised if that's what's going on with him."

"Those first few months after what. . .they were brutal," Sylvester agreed. "I think we'd all like to forget them."

"And the bitch who caused them," added Happy. "You think that's the reason he's asking for that. . ."

"Yes," the doc cut in before she could come up with another foul name to call the team's former liaison. "I need you guys to go back in there and talk to him. . . See what he remembers. Be subtle. Just don't mention you-know-who and for heaven's sake, don't badmouth her." He aimed his gaze at his wife.

"What?" she asked defensively. "Okay, I won't mentioned her. . .or what she is."

"Thank you, Sugarplum," he said before giving her a peck on the cheek. "You know, there could be another explanation for this."

"What would that be?" Cabe crossed his arms over his chest.

"He may have gone to Sin City by himself," said the psychiatrist, "but what if he had company on the way home?"

"You mean like a show. . ." Sylvester's sentence was cut short when Happy stuck her finger a centimeter from the younger genius's nose. He gulped under her threatening glare.

"No," Toby replied. "I mean. . ." He lowered his voice even more. "I contacted Gloria Svenson and casually mentioned Walter would be attending a convention in Las Vegas by himself this weekend if she was interested."

"And was she?" Sly asked, his eyebrows raised to his hairline.

"She was," Toby said as he smirked at the thought his plan had been successful. "There's excellent odds he hooked up with her and just thinks he was with Paige because of his rattled head."

"So his brain is messed up either way," Cabe pointed out.

Happy glanced from man to man to man. "Scorpion needs Walter's genius mind at 100%. Anything less. . . We'll all be looking for new jobs."

"Not to worry, Sweetpea." Toby placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "His prognosis looks good. The old grey matter will be up and fully functional with its usual logical efficiency with a little rest and relaxation." He waved toward the room. "Now get in there and do some gentle probing."

As he watched them troop back through the doorway, he had to admit he was a tad worried about leaving an injured and memory impaired Walter alone with an unforgiving and pregnant Happy. Neither were in any condition for a knock down drag out fight, not even a verbal one. But he was even more worried 197 had lost the last year and a half of his memories. As his better half would say. . . "Not good."

ooooo

Walter observed through half closed eyes as everyone but Toby walked back into his room. Sly looked nervous, but that wasn't unusual. Cabe seemed to be worried. . .which was. And Happy. . . Well, her expression appeared the most normal. Like she was about to kick someone's ass. He just hoped it wasn't his.

"So, uh, what year is it?" Sylvester blurted out.

"Oh, that's real subtle, dumbass," the mechanic sneered.

Why were they asking him. . .? Oh. . . Memory check. "It's 2018," he replied. "I'm not sure of the date because I don't know how long I've been out."

"Since yesterday afternoon," said Cabe before checking his watch. "It's five thirty Monday evening."

Walter absorbed that information and calculated he'd been unconscious for twenty-eight hours and twenty minutes (give or take a few seconds) as it had been ten minutes after one the previous day when he and Paige had left the bogus thermometer's gift shop.

"Where were you born?" Sly asked.

"Will you stop with the questions already," growled Happy as Walter said, "St Luke's Hospital in Kilkenny."

"But Toby said. . ." The human calculator looked flustered.

"You don't have to do everything he says," she said before turning to glare at Walter. "Tell me you didn't."

He knew exactly what she meant but decided to play dumb. "Didn't what?"

"Tell me you didn't get back together with her."

"Okay, I won't tell you then," he replied.

He heard Sylvester snicker and saw the mechanic shoot a dirty look at the younger genius before directing her irritated stare at him again.

"How could you?" Happy asked angrily. "What are you, some kind of masochist? That cheating bitch. . ."

"Don't call her that," he snapped, finally able to voice his disapproval of the denigrating name calling he'd allow to go on for far too long. "And my personal life is none of your business."

"It's the whole team's business if you try to off yourself again." Sly drew in a sharp breath at Happy's blunt statement.

"How long has this been going on?" Cabe blatantly changed the subject as he moved into the space between Walter's bed and the pissed off mechanic.

Walter searched his memories, smiling a little as he recalled the day they reunited. "About six months, give or take a few days."

"You moron," says Happy as she clenched her fists. "If you weren't already screwed up, I'd punch. . ."

The door opened and Walter was disappointed to see it was Allie instead of Toby with some answers. She walked over to Cabe and handed the agent what had to be a cup of coffee.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he said as he raised it to his lips.

"You're welcome, darling" she replied with a bit of a giggle as the older man grinned at her. Then she placed her left hand on Cabe's arm and Walter thought he caught a flash of something shiny on her ring finger, a finger which had been bare since he'd met her. Had Cabe proposed and Allie accepted? Why hadn't they said anything?

"Oh, Walter, you're awake," she said, clearing his head of his unanswered questions.

"What gave it away?" Happy snarled as she crossed her arms over her burgeoning belly.

Allie's brow furrowed for a moment before she plastered a bright smile on her face. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," he lied. His head was pounding, his body ached, his throat was still raw, and it was a little difficult to breathe.

"No, he's not," Happy contradicted. "He's suffering from a severe case of the stupids."

A confused expression slid over Allie's face. "He and Paige are back together," Cabe informed her and Walter could hear the censure in the older man's tone.

"Oh, dear," whispered Allie.

Closing his eyes, Walter tuned out the others as they talked about him like he wasn't there and tried not to agonize over why it was taking Toby so long to find out about Paige.

ooooo

Since it was a small hospital and he was a genius, it only took Toby a couple of minutes to find the nurses' station. But the only nurse seemingly on duty had been on the phone, engrossed in a vastly unstimulating conversation filled with a lot of 'uh, huhs' and short bursts of laughter.

"Excuse me. . .Brenda," he said as he read her name off the tag pinned to her scrubs once she ended the call. "Hello, I'm Doctor Tobias M. Curtis and I'm concerned about my patient, Walter O'Brien. I think he could be suffering from some memory loss due to his head injury."

"O'Brien? Oh, yeah, the guy with the hematoma," said the nurse. "They thought they were going to have to drill into his head. I'm not surprised he's disoriented."

"He seems to believe he wasn't alone in the car, that there was a woman with him," Toby stated. "I know for a fa. . ."

"There was a woman admitted at the same time," Brenda interrupted. "The EMTs said they were in the car together."

"Can you tell me her name?" he asked although he had a sinking feeling he already knew the answer.

"I really shouldn't," she said, "but if you're a friend of Mr O'Brien. . .?" He nodded and she continued, "Well, he's listed as her emergency contact and since he's injured too. . ."

Oh, shit. "Her name wouldn't be Paige Dineen, would it?" he asked as he wished it could have been one of the rare times he'd been wrong.

"How did you. . .? Yes, it is." The nurse seemed surprised by his guess.

"Uh, I'm her personal physician too," he lied. "How is she?"

The nurse pulled out a chart and began reading aloud from it. "She's in serious condition. Broken arm, fractured collarbone, cracked ribs, broken ankle, basically her whole right side is banged up. They had to perform CPR in the ambulance." She glanced up at him when she'd finished. "Are you okay? You seem a bit pale."

He probably was. CPR meant they'd lost her pulse or she'd stopped breathing. "No, I'm fine. Just. . . Can I see her?"

"She's still unconscious but I think it would okay since you're her regular doctor." The nurse stepped out from behind the circular desk. "This way."

Toby followed the woman as she led him to the room next to Walter's. He saw Paige lying in the hospital bed, surrounded by several IVs and monitors. She was barely recognizable, her face a mass of bruises and tiny cuts. Her right arm and shoulder were covered in one large cast and her booted right ankle was propped up on top of the bed sheet.

His legs wobbled and he sought the sanctuary of the chair next to the bed as he realized she and Walter could have been killed. He had thought, and said, some pretty harsh things about Paige after what she'd done but. . . She certainly didn't deserve this.

"Dr Curtis?"

The nurse's concerned tone breached his sympathetic musings. Taking a deep breath, he stood back up and reached out to touch Paige's uninjured left hand.

"Walter's going to be fine," he reassured her even though he didn't know if she could hear him or not. "I'll, uh, I'll let him know you're going to be okay too." A half truth, since given her injuries, she was going to have a long and painful road to recovery.

Rubbing his eyes, he turned to the nurse as another concern crossed his mind. One he should have thought of sooner. "She has a son. Ralph. . .Ralph Dineen. Has he been notified?"

Brenda shook her head. "The only number we could find was for Mr O'Brien. Oh, dear. You wouldn't happen to know. . .?"

"He must be with a sitter or with a friend," he interrupted, not wanting to admit he hadn't had any contact, let alone any contact information, with either Paige or Ralph for over a year. But someone else had. "Walter would know," he suggested. "I'll go ask him."

"Oh, that would be so nice of you," said the nurse. "The police have the rest of their belongings and won't release them until they've finished investigating the crash. That poor little boy should be told as soon as possible."

His mouth twitched at what Ralph's reaction would be at being called a 'little boy.' He sobered though at the knowledge the boy genius must be out of his head with worry, with no idea of why his mom hadn't come home the day before.

He unsteadily walked the few feet back to Walter's room and opened the door. Five faces stared expectantly at him as he stepped inside. Allie had joined the others while he'd been gone and stood next to Cabe, clutching his arm. Walter had his eyes closed and Toby didn't know if he was asleep or tuning everyone out.

"Well?"

He heard all of Happy's frustration and anger in that one word and he wasn't looking forward to delivering his news, knowing how she was going to react.

"It's Paige," he blurted out. "And she's in bad shape."