I'm at work and it's slower than molasses runs uphill so when I got a tiny story idea I thought hey, why not type this all up on my phone?

Set sometime after I'm the future (after 3.09).

The beach was fairly deserted.

Walter liked it that way. He had gotten good at blocking out anyone milling about, the chatter, the laughter, the occasional yelling. But it had been a long, taxing day, and he was glad he didn't have to work that hard.

The sky was a brilliant mixture of reds, oranges, pinks, and yellows as the sun made its descent on the horizon. Red sky at night, sailor's delight, Walter thought. He had learned that saying from his mother, and he wondered if the boy next to him was thinking the same thing.

"The sailors will be pleased," Ralph commented.

Walter glanced down at him with an affectionate smile. "Probably."

"Are you okay?"

It had been a rough afternoon. Overwhelming. Walter's heart began to pound all over again when he thought about just how close they'd come to losing Sylvester. To the younger man's credit, he'd handled the situation marvelously, with a courage that, just a few years ago, he wouldn't have been able to muster. Walter wished he was back at the garage, at Sylvester's side, helping to make sure he was okay mentally before leaving for the night. But he had had to leave - the close call had rattled him and he knew his jumpy presence would only make Sly worse. So he'd excused himself - Paige shot him a look of understanding just as Ralph jumped up to go with him. Walter didn't know if the boy was as rattled as he was, or if Ralph went along to make sure he didn't do anything reckless. He strongly suspected the latter. He loved the boy all the more for it.

Coming to a stop, Walter faced forward, staring off toward the setting sun. "I'm alright, Ralph."

"If my mom was here, she'd press you, just a little. To make sure you were telling the truth. And if you weren't, you'd admit it to her."

Ralph's knowledge of the dynamic between his mother and Walter was so accurate and extensive he chuckled despite himself. He reached out and slid an arm around Ralph's shoulder, pulling him closer. "I'm okay. Really. It was just a bit of...mental overload. You know what that's like."

"I do."

Walter didn't tell Ralph that he'd come here because it was Megan's favorite spot. The boy had been here before. "I know she's not actually here," he said, knowing Ralph would understand without any verbal background information, "and I know she's gone. I don't believe she's looking down on me, I don't think she's listening when I talk to her, but...I still feel obligated to come here so she knows that Sylvester is okay."

He'd come to this same spot, alone, many times when trying to work through his feelings for Paige, but he didn't tell Ralph that either. On some level, Walter still felt silly for how comforted he was by the spot. He knew it was normal - he liked that it was normal - but it was still taking some time to accept. One didn't adjust to a developing E.Q. overnight.

"I understand," Ralph said. "I mean...I understand that people do it. My mom used to take me when she would visit my grandpa's grave."

Walter looked down. Ralph wasn't usually any more forthcoming than Paige about their lives before Scorpion, though both were getting better about opening up. "She didn't like to do it. Bring me. Because she would cry. And she hates when I see her cry. But he meant so much to her. She would be too overwhelmed going if I wasn't with her. Because I'm tangible. She can touch me, and hold me, and not feel alone. It was usually too hard for her to visit him by herself."

One thing that Walter found so intriguing about the Dineens was how in sync they were, even being so different. When either confided in Walter about a memory involving the two of them, he was always less than a month away from hearing it from the other. It was as if they guarded their lives with equal distrust and protectiveness, had the same requirements for letting anyone in, and then always seemed to unknowingly agree on when to disclose any particular information to Walter. He hadn't yet heard this story from Paige. But he didn't doubt she would tell him, with faltering eye contact and a tone of voice that berayed the vulnerabilities she trusted him with, within a couple of weeks, completely unaware, as was always the case, that the other had already confessed it.

"Losing someone you love is hard," Walter said. "Didn't it hurt when your father stayed away?"

"Yes. Because I knew he found me difficult. And he made my mom sad, and I hated it and blamed myself. But..." Ralph gave Walter a smile. "But now that I know I'm not a freak...and my mom hasn't loved him in a long time. So it hurt when it was happening. But it's not the kind of hurt that lasts forever." Ralph looked up at the sky. "You will miss Megan forever. Won't you."

It wasn't spoken like a question, but Walter sighed and nodded, toeing at the damp sand. Ralph leaned his head against the older genius.

"Thanks for coming with me," Walter said.

"Of course. People need people when they're feeling sad."

"Your mother is incredible," Walter responded, knowing Ralph would understand he was referring to both how she was currently comforting Sylvester and how she had raised her son. He felt Ralph's hand slip up into his and squeeze it.

A breeze slowly began to manifest itself, putting a slight chill in the air. Ralph cuddled closer. "Do you want to head back?"

"Are you ready to?"

Paige Dineen's son. A genius, of course, I.Q. beating E.Q. by a mile, but Paige Dineen's son. "Yeah," Walter said. "I think so."

They stood in silence another minure or two, staring out at the darkening ocean, then turned and walked across the quiet beach toward the car.