So when I thought of this idea I thought it was a little too OOC so I wasn't gunna write it. But it kept sticking in my mind, so I wrote it just to get it to stop bugging me, but as it developed, I started thinking maybe this isn't quite as OOC as I thought? I don't know, you be the judge.

I am still working on The Happiest Place On Earth, I've just had a bit of writer's block with the next chapter (for some reason my brain hasn't had any problems with the rest of it, and I've got the last two chapters almost completely finished).

I'm putting this as completed for now, but I might come back to it after I've finished The Happiest Place On Earth. So let me know if you want me to continue this.

Last thing, this has quite a bit of talk of anorexia, so if you don't wanna read about that, best you continue no further. :)

Paige hadn't done this in so long.

She'd gotten help for it when she found out she was pregnant with Ralph. She may have been willing to let it ruin her own life, but she sure as hell wasn't going to do that to her son.

She'd felt it pecking at the back of her mind for several days now, more and more insistent. Over the years, it had resurfaced occasionally when she was feeling overwhelmed. When she and Ralph were evicted, when she'd been working three jobs, after a particularly adrenaline-inducing case with Scorpion. But she had learned how to fight it, and although those thoughts still somehow survived in the depths of her mind, she had only rarely acted on them, and certainly never made a habit of them again.

But here she was, at the end of an uneventful day at the garage, and all day only had a cup of coffee, some cantaloupe, and some baby carrots (it used to be her go-to low-calorie food to curb the hunger). Without even thinking about it, she calculated... about 170 calories.

Her life felt like such a mess at the moment. The man she was dating was Mr. Perfect. She should be happy about that. Sure, he was sweet, handsome, thoughtful, funny... but when he walked in the room, she didn't feel a smile appear on her face of its own accord. When she kissed him, she didn't feel her knees buckle. When she looked in his eyes, she didn't feel her cheeks color. When she touched him, she didn't feel butterflies. She felt nothing.

And the man who did do those things to her, well... as Toby would put it, he's an emotional dumpster fire.

She had tried to be patient and understanding, but she'd be lying if she said it didn't hurt every time he distanced himself from her. She'd had a long history of being abandoned and was sensitive to it, she knew that. She knew she had run to the opposite end of the spectrum. She knew she was hiding in a safe but boring relationship to avoid being hurt. And she knew that was so unfair to Walter, and to herself. At least, she knew all of that now.

She tilted her head back and pinched her nose, feigning eye strain, when in reality she was hiding her watery eyes while she regained her composure. She wasn't sure if anyone had noticed her lack of diet. No one had said anything to her, so she hoped that meant they hadn't. For once the geniuses' habit of getting lost in their heads actually worked to her advantage. Then she wondered why she wanted to keep it from them so badly. It shouldn't be some shameful secret she had to hide.

She couldn't fall into this again. She had recovered for Ralph. He was still here. He still needed her. This couldn't happen.

Taking a deep breath, she stood up and walked briskly toward the kitchen. Telling her eating disorder to shove it, she grabbed a can of soup, opened it, and threw it in the microwave. She hadn't allowed herself to look at the label, so she didn't know what kind it was until she tasted it. Chicken noodle. Apparently she hadn't been mean enough to her eating disorder, because she winced as she put the first spoonful in her mouth, and forced it down. She would hear her anorexia taunting her, Noodles are nothing but empty carbs... You're gunna get fat... Why can't you resist a stupid can of soup?... You're so weak... And with each insult she would respond with a voice of reason, I'm in good shape and eat healthy, I deserve some empty carbs once in awhile... Eating will not make me fat, I need food to function... One stupid can of soup is not going to do any harm... what I'm eating has nothing to do with how strong I am. Fighting against the urge to just eat the carrots and avoid the chicken and noodles, she finished every bite.

She got up to wash her bowl. She felt bloated, and was hyper-aware of the way her shirt brushed on the fat pads above her hips. Fat pads that are normal. I am not overweight. People need fat.

When she finished washing, she covered her face in her hands. Why did her brain do this? She still couldn't understand it. She jumped when she heard a voice, "Are you okay?"

She looked up to see Walter, and plastered a smile, "Yeah, I'm fine." Damn. That was the same 'fine' that frustrated her when it came from Walter. When did she start sounding like him?

She avoided further eye contact and headed back to her desk, but felt his gaze following her. Then he followed her just as she sat down. "Uh, A-are you sure?" The fake smile and forced assurance must not have been very convincing. What a surprise.

She sighed, pressing her lips together. She was having trouble holding it together as it was, without Walter prying. Training her eyes on the papers in front of her, she answered with an affirmative, "mmhmm." Dammit. That was squeaky. He really wasn't going to let it go now.

"P-Paige... um, I-I know I've destroyed a lot of your trust, b-but if something is bothering you, I still... I want you to feel like you can tell me. I still, um, I still care about you."

She stood up and looked up at him, intending to assure him that it's nothing he needed to worry about. Which she would have meant. She had the tools to fight it now, and didn't want to worry Walter unnecessarily. But as soon as she saw the look of concern and... gosh, and love in his eyes, she crumbled. She felt her eyes blur with tears, and he must have noticed too, because his expression morphed from concern to worry.

"Paige?"

She scrunched up her face and rubbed her eyes, trying to stop the tears. It wasn't working very well. "Walter..." she whispered.

He stepped closer, "C-can you tell me what's wrong?"

She dropped her hands and stared aimlessly at his shirt pocket, "Honestly, I don't have the emotional energy to explain it right now."

"O-okay. Is there, uh, is there anything I can do?"

What she wanted was a hug. A big, never-ending hug. But considering the circumstances of their relationship and her feelings, she didn't think that was such a good idea. Paige shook her head, "I think I just want to go home. Thanks, though."

"I-" She looked back up at him at the tone of protest in his voice. Then he swallowed, "Okay."

She started to walk away, when she suddenly remembered that Ralph was at Sly's for the night. The thought of spending tonight alone sent a wave of despair over her, and she decided she didn't care about good ideas or bad ideas. She turned around, "Actually, Walter?"

"Yes?" He hadn't moved when she walked away, but now he stepped toward her.

"Um, do you think... would you be comfortable with a hug?"

He seemed a little surprised and blinked rapidly a few times, before answering, "Uh, sure."

They both hesitantly wrapped their arms around each other, and Paige immediately felt herself melt into him. She let out the sobs she'd been holding back before, soaking his shirt with her tears.

So yeah... still not sure how I feel about this one. Let me know what you thought about it, and if you want me to continue it eventually.