Mind Games

Summary: What do you get when you cross a depressed emotionally ill-equipped genius with a logical acidic solution?

Disclaimer: This is a fan-fiction story of the TV Series: Scorpion, and is in no way affiliated with the actual story/series in any of the aforementioned media. All characters and other materials related to the show that are used are not intended to infringe on any Copyrights. Elemental-Zer0 takes sole responsibility for any mistakes or offence that may be taken but truly not meant. However, any characters that are not related to any copyrights are copyrighted to Elemental-Zer0, as are any adaptions/variations to the plot set out in the original author's story/plot.

Authors Note: This chapter has some triggering moments in it about suicide. Please don't consider it. If you feel you need help, please contact your local help lines. I'm not a qualified therapist and am ill-equipped to deal with others' emotions on a normal daily basis, so please find someone professional to talk to and seek help. You are not alone in this, you are worth saving, you are worth loving.

Anyways, let me know what you think, but no flames please. If you have any criticism to make please do it politely otherwise I shall ignore your words. (It's happened before, I'm sorry to say, and I hadn't even posted any real chapters…)

Chapter One: The Illusion of Love

The concept of cheating was not unknown to Walter. The idea of a monogamous partnership for life was… popular, and while he couldn't imagine being with anyone other than Paige, the logic was inaccurate. A polygamous relationship would increase chances of conception and then human survival would be at its most optimal.

He could see how early Christianity had foreseen the overpopulation years ahead of everyone else and that by enhancing the moralistic views of a monogamous relationship, it would slow down the population rates.

It was all scientific, and the calculations and the logic made sense.

Relationships in general were also a survival instinct. A gathering of humans were more likely to survive together, with each member providing a different perspective and skill. The chances and odds were more optimal in a community. It made sense even if the members didn't get on well together. There were greater odds of success by sticking together.

He didn't understand why a group would walk away from an opportunity to be at its best. Why friends, or family would willingly walk away from better chances…

He'd heard all of them say that they were a family. A cyclone. That the strongest bonds were with those who could forgive each other's flaws and mistakes. But for reasons he could not compute, he was an apparent exception to that rule.

His father. And his mother… his whole family were strangers to him. They'd been the first to abandon him; to give up trying to understand his world. And Meghan... Meghan hadn't had the choice. She'd been the last person he could connect with, and she had been ripped from him too soon. He was left floundering around, unable to conceive his existence without her.

Throughout all of that, Paige had been the rock he'd felt tethered to. The one person who helped him make sense of the world and his own emotions.

And his existence had even pushed her away. Pure, patient Paige had grown tired of his world, and his ways.

What was the point now? He was a very smart man in a world that shunned him and walked past as he suffered, with notion of why or how to fix it. How could he fix himself? He could do so much good for the world, he had so much to offer… but the world clearly didn't want him.

He eyed the beaker before him. It was a simple chemical solution. A highly concentrated form of acid. The strongest Florence could create.

She'd believed him when he'd told her it was for an experiment. To measure the length of time it would take for it to dissolve organic material in a drain. He told her he'd been experimenting with the idea of creating a new drain de-clogger to help with the funding of Scorpion 2.0.

He still didn't understand the difference between a white lie and a complete untruth. Paige had said that a lie that protected someone's feelings was a good thing; a white lie. So telling Florence that her acid was for an experiment wasn't an untruth. Telling her it was for the de-clogger was a protective lie; a white lie. Right?

The note he'd written was also full of white lies. It told them all that they were not part of the calculations he'd made to follow the conclusion he'd come to. That their abandonment of him at his most desperate time of need held no bearing to his logical conclusion that the world was better off without one Walter Obrien.

He'd written that their actions were emotionally reasonable to them and he accepted that. He understood that he was not capable of giving them the emotional empathy that they required from a friend. He understood and forgave them for putting their own health above his. It was as Paige had said, the emotional level of a 15 year old was probably as far as he was capable of growing to. He'd hit the limit. There was no need for him to try any more.

So he came to the only logical conclusion a 15 year old emotionally destroyed young boy would come to.

Suicide.

Cabe was a man of action. He was not an indecisive creature by nature. But the job he'd been offered was… tempting. He knew he'd turn it down though. Walter was not stable enough to handle another friend abandon him for something better than he could offer.

Still, he was getting old. His knees and his back were starting to complain more. His sight was also starting its own countdown timer. He couldn't leave Walter like he was, but how long could he keep pulling the stunts he did for the kid?

He pulled up to the garage, and sat in the car for a few seconds. His mind racing with unanswered questions. He sighed and looked at the garage door for a moment. Trying to work up the courage to face whatever emotionally bound experiment was waiting for him inside. Swallowing his fears, he opened the door made his way inside.

It was quiet. Dust motes circled in the weak sunlight that filtered through the grubby windows. The air eddied but otherwise remained still. Cabe's hackles were up before he even fully registered the danger.

The resounding boom of an explosive deafened him just as the concussive blast threw him over the nearest desk. It was several minutes before he could unscramble his brain and think.

"Walter!" His shout was hampered by several coughs as smoke and debris now choked the previously still air. He forced himself up and moved to the bottom of the stairs that lead up to Walter's converted apartment. The blast had originated from up there. He hesitated, his heart almost stopping at the question of whether Walter could have survived such a close contact explosion. And he faltered again at the thought of who had made the bomb. Had Walter been attacked?

Or

Had he attacked himself?

Cabe was a man of action damnit. He had to find out.

He put his hand on the bottom of the rail and managed to put one foot on the bottom step before two gunshots went off behind him. He turned as quickly as his training had instilled but the darkness that followed that turn had him tumbling to the floor. He lay there for a moment, not quite sure of what had just happened. The cold floor of the garage was oddly soothing to his old tired body. He felt sleepy, and suddenly couldn't hold onto a coherent thought.

He let himself drift off, unaware of the fate of the man he thought of as his own son in the now destroyed apartment above him.