Ray wakes up one morning, one nice, sunny morning, where all is right in the universe until he stumbles into the kitchen and Walt glares at him.
"Uh," Ray says. "Good morning?"
Walt glares some more.
Ray rubs at his face. It is way too early and decaffeinated to be dealing with Walt's glaring. "You should check your tampon, princess," Ray says, and then Walt's chair is pushing back with a scrape and he's stomping out of the room.
"Huh," Ray says, but then he gets a cup of coffee and forgets all about it right until Walt comes stomping back into the kitchen to grab the newspaper with way too much venom, then stomps right back out again.
"Is something wrong?" Ray calls after him.
Walt does not seem to want to dignify that with a response.
Ray wanders around, lonely, all day, with Walt stomping into different rooms every time Ray tries to talk to him, or hug him, or jump onto his lap. It just isn't right, so Ray finally corners Walt in their bedroom, Walt reading a book, all prissy, and Ray didn't even know you could be prissy about reading a book, but Walt is totally managing it.
"I am really sorry for whatever the fuck you think I did," Ray says sincerely.
Walt looks like Ray's actually struck him speechless for a moment, mouth moving soundlessly, then he points accusingly at Ray. "You are a fucking asshole," he says.
"I love you too?" Ray tries, but Walt's getting up, grabbing a pillow, and stomping out to the living room.
Ray tries to sleep in his big empty bed, but it just isn't right, so he picks up the phone, calls Brad. Brad gets mad at him all the time and he hasn't killed him, so he must have some, like, divine wisdom. Or some shit.
"Walt's mad at me," Ray says when the phone picks up.
"...Let me go get Brad," Nate says.
Ray waits patiently, only fidgeting a little, until Brad picks up.
"What'd you do this time, Person?" Brad asks.
"I don't know," Ray says. "He's just all. Mad at me. And he won't tell me and it's weird."
"This is new to you?" Brad asks.
"We don't fight!" Ray says. "I'm so cute he forgives me before he even gets mad!"
"You're just a special kind of retard, aren't you, Ray?" Brad asks, sounding almost impressed.
"Hey," Ray says. "I bet you, like. Find a humvee just to lie under it. And stuff."
Ray is much more clever when he's not trying to figure out what the fuck made Walt start being the bitchy wife, instead of just rolling his eyes when Ray calls him that.
"Wow," Brad says slowly. "You better fix this."
"No shit," Ray mumbles, and hangs up, because Brad's fucking useless.
He sleeps, but poorly, with lots of sheets and pillows and no Walt to practice very manly cuddling with. The next day he follows Walt from room to room, not letting him escape, until Walt throws his hands up and locks himself in the bathroom with the phone, before stomping into their room and starting to pack his underwear.
"What the actual fuck?" Ray asks him.
"I'm going to stay with your mom until you're not an asshole," Walt says.
"My momma?" Ray asks. "Hey, first thing, if I'm an asshole, it's because she raised me that way. And also, she's my momma, she has to be on my side. That's, like, a rule."
Walt shrugs, tight. "She said you're a moron and I can stay as long as I'd like," he says, and then he stomps out the door before Ray can even think of a retort.
Ray lasts a whole hour alone before he calls Brad again.
"He's off with my momma now," Ray tells Brad. "They're probably bitching about me and drinking her box wine. Help."
Brad starts laughing and doesn't stop, so Ray hangs up on him before Brad gets his breath back enough to say something he'll regret, or, like, something he should regret but won't.
And now Ray's all alone, without even Brad to make fun of him, and their apartment is all sunshiney and nice, but apparently that's only when Walt is around, because now it's depressing and sad, and Ray doesn't like sleeping alone, he did it for years and it fucking sucks, and he's pretty sure part of marrying someone means you're stuck sharing body heat for the rest of your lives.
He manages another awful night of not enough sleep and way too little Walt before he sucks up his pride over whatever the fuck he did and drives out to Momma Person's. Walt answers the door after Ray's only been knocking two minutes straight, so Ray thinks that's progress, even if the line of Walt's mouth is a little too tight.
"I still don't know what I did," Ray says. "Except being an asshole, but I'm an asshole all the time and you knew that from the start. And I really am sorry, because I miss you, and I want you to come home and stop gossiping with my momma because that really fucks with my head."
Walt looks at him for a minute before his mouth softens back to normal Walt dimensions. "You're lucky you're cute," he says finally.
"Is that the moron?" Ray hears from inside. Walt's mouth twitches as Ray clutches his hand to his chest.
"Momma," he yells. "That's not the way to speak to your favourite son."
"I speak just fine to Walt," she yells back.
"Can we go home?" Ray pleads. "This is doing bad things for my ego, and you know when my ego hurts I make you call me daddy."
"Yeah," Walt says, "that shit really needs to stop."
He takes Ray's proffered hand anyway. "See, momma," Ray yells. "Walt likes me better than you." Walt rolls his eyes at him, but he doesn't say otherwise, which makes everything a-fucking-okay.