Author's note: Happy 6th Anniversary of Scorpion! September 22, 2014. It was a very important day for us too, Walter.

Thank you for your continued support for my Scorpion stories. I appreciate you all very much.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

"Hey, let me take a look at the little guy,"

Toby's voice must have startled Paige because she flinched away as his hands reached for Nicky.

"It'll be okay," he reassured her, a bit worried about her mental state. Although he had to admit, being kidnapped twice in less than a year would probably make anyone a nervous wreck. "I know what I'm doing. I did a neonatal rotation when I was an intern."

"Yeah," said Happy, "instead of a gynecology rotation because no woman wanted an eighteen year old pervert looking at her business."

"Guilty as charged," the shrink said as his face grew warm. "And since we're on that subject. . . Yolondra, you should make sure she's okay." He waved his hand in Paige's direction. "Walter would probably kill me if I took a peek."

"I don't need death threats to keep me away from. . .you know," Sylvester stated in a slightly strangled tone.

"Why don't you and Happy go look for some water," Toby suggested. Maybe Paige's anxiety would lessen with fewer bystanders milling about. "There are some things which could use cleaning up around here."

"On it." The mechanic pushed Sly toward the nearest exit. "Come on, scaredy cat, let's play Jack and Jill."

"Doesn't Jack fall down and break his crown?" the human calculator asked nervously.

"Fine, I'll be Jack and you can be Jill," Happy suggested.

Toby snickered as Sly protested the gender swap as he and Happy left the barn. Turning his attention back to Paige, he asked, "Did Walt do an Apgar score?"

"A what?"

"An Apgar score. Developed in 1952 by Virginia Apgar, an obstetric anesthesiologist ," Toby explained. "It's based on five criteria, appearance, pulse, grimace or reflex, activity, and respiration, each rated on a scale of zero to two points."

Paige shook her head. "I don't think so. If he did, he didn't say anything about it."

"It's usually done within five minutes after birth, and I know it's been longer than that, but he still needs to be assessed in case there's a problem," he said softly, "so we can take care of it. I'm not going to hurt him."

"Okay." Biting her lip, Paige reluctantly allowed Toby to take Nicky.

He gently bounced the baby in his arms. "He's a big boy for being three weeks early." At least seven pounds by his guesstimate.

"Yeah, Louise told me Walter weighed nearly nine pounds when we Skyped a few weeks ago," she said.

"Half of that was his massive ego," Toby said with a chuckle as he unwrapped the baby's towel. "What the. . .? Walter used shoelaces to cut the cord? He didn't have any clamps?"

"I don't know. I guess." She sounded tired, which was hardly surprising, considering the day she'd had. The day they'd all had.

Toby swaddled the baby back up a few minutes later. "I'd score him about an eight," he stated as he handed Nicky back to Paige. "His color's excellent. Muscle tone and reflexes aren't as good as they could be, but he was early. Have you fed him yet?" When she nodded, he asked, "Any trouble latching on?"

"He did fine," she said, her face coloring a little, probably embarrassed he indirectly mentioned her boobs. He was a doctor, a fact the rest of the team seemed to forget.

"Everything looks okay," Yolondra announced as she stood up and wiped her hands together, "whoever helped her deliver knew what they were doing."

"Walter did," Paige replied, a touch of pride in her voice. "He watched a YouTube video."

"And like an idiot, I went to medical school." Toby got to his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. "I wonder. . ."

"I wonder if I can talk to Ms Dineen?" Deputy Shea asked as he stopped at the edge of the stall at the same time Happy and Sly showed up each carrying a bucket of water.

"Not without a lawyer present," the mechanic snapped as she plunked down her bucket.

"I just need to verify some info," said the officer. He dug into his shirt pocket and pulled out a pad and pencil.

"It'll be all right, Sugarplum." Toby placed a hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you go help clean things up?"

"Why don't you. . ." Happy didn't finish her threat, instead spinning around and snatching up her bucket.

The deputy crouched down beside Paige. "So can you tell me what kind of vehicle this Collins was driving?"

"It was a white van," she replied. "It had a logo on the side. . . The name of the mental hospital, I think."

"Okay, I'll get an APB. . ."

"He's ditched it by now," Toby stated. "Too conspicuous."

"So he's probably stolen another vehicle and. . ." Shea began.

"Nah," the shrink cut in. "Not his style. Too obvious. If I was still a betting man, I'd say he had someone else procure a car for him. I'd check to see if any inmates he had contact with have been released in the last three or four months. He's probably using them as an unwitting accomplice, possibly blackmailing them."

"You seem to have him all figured out," the officer said, the snark plain in his tone.

"I'm a world-class behaviorist," Toby said. "Harvard trained." Ignoring the groans coming from Happy and Sylvester's direction, he continued, "Plus he used to be a co-worker. He's nuttier than peanut brittle and a danger to the outside world and in particular to Walter O'Brien."

"So O'Brien was kidnapped too?"

"Yes. . ." Toby barely got the word out of his mouth when Paige spoke over him, her words bitter.

"No, Collins didn't kidnapped Walter. He went willingly."

He shook his head. "No, he didn't. Knowing Walter, he did it for the greater good. I'm right, aren't I?"

Paige nodded. "Collins was going to take Nicky," she said, cuddling the baby closer as she spilled out what had happened since she'd been abducted that afternoon.

Deputy Shea took notes as she talked. "Thank you, ma'am," he said when she'd finished. "I'll get. . ." His words trailed off at the sound of sirens grew louder. "Hey, the ambulance is here," he pointed out unnecessarily.

"Darn, I was hoping it was the ice cream truck," Toby quipped.

"Shut up, dumbass," Happy said right before she smacked his shoulder as the emergency vehicle came to a halt outside the barn.

Toby started to climb into the back of the ambulance after Paige and the baby had been loaded onto a gurney and placed inside. "Get out," she demanded.

"I'm a doctor."

"Yolondra needs to go to the hospital with me," Paige countered.

"Uh, okay. But why?"

"Collins kidnapped her hours ago. And if he wouldn't give me anything to eat or drink, he probably didn't give her anything either. I think she should be checked out."

Toby nodded. Both women were probably dehydrated. "Good point," he conceded. "Yo, Yolondra!" He beckoned the midwife toward them with one hand as he pulled out his phone with the other. "Do you want to call Ralph and Cabe or should I?"

"Oh, God, Ralph." She sagged against the raised back of the stretcher. "I should do it but. . ."

"Here, let me take a photo of you and Wally Jun. . . Okay, Nicky," he corrected when she shot him an angry glare. "Okay smile."

Her smile was more of a grimace but he took the picture anyway then showed it to Paige. "I'll send this, okay?"

"Okay," Paige said wearily as Yolondra appeared at the back of the emergency vehicle.

A few minutes later, the ambulance carrying Paige, the baby, and the midwife headed back down the farm's rutted driveway. "Now we just have to find Walter," Happy said.

"How are we going to do that?" Sylvester asked, his voice edged with distress. "We have no idea where Collins is taking him."

"Maybe Walter doesn't want to be found," said Toby, playing devil's advocate. "According to Paige, he willingly went with our psychotic pal. Maybe staring the harsh reality and responsibility of fatherhood square in the face freaked him out and Daddy Walter skedaddled."

"You don't really believe that." Sly looked to be on the verge of tears. Happy looked like she was about to punch his lights out.

"No, I don't," Toby said with a deep sigh. "He played one of his "greater good" cards."

"I hate that phrase." Happy's words were barely above a whisper. "It's going to kill him one of these days."

"Well, let's hope it's not today." Toby put his arm around the mechanic's shoulders and surprisingly she didn't shrug him off. "Come on," he said. "Even though we're down one genius, the three of us should be able to figure out where Collins is taking Walter."

They all climbed into the mechanic's truck and minutes later had caught up with the ambulance.

ooooo

"So, where are we going?" Walter asked. They'd been driving for approximately forty-five minutes. It was dark, the roads were two lane backroads, and he hadn't seen any sign of civilization for miles.

"Why do you want to know?" Mark countered, not taking his eyes from the road. "So you can inform your little friends?"

"No, of course. . ."

"Oh, please," Collins scoffed. "How else did you find the farm so quickly? You've been feeding each other information this whole time."

"It's a moot point now. You destroyed my phone. I have no way to communicate with them."

"That's the difference between you and me, Walter," Mark stated. "You have constantly underestimated me. But I have never once underestimated you." He was quiet for a moment before adding, "You'll find out where we're going when we get there, so don't ask me again."

"But I need to go back to the garage to collect all my data so I can turn it over to you."

Collins chuckled mirthlessly. "I'm not falling for that. We both know you don't need to collect a thing." He glanced over at Walter and tapped the side of his head. "All your research is stored inside your head."

Dammit. He'd known it had been a long shot but it was one he had to try.

"Don't worry, Walter. We're going somewhere where we won't be disturbed while I extract it."

Walter didn't like the sound of that and said so.

Mark barked out a laugh. "Not to worry, I'll leave your brain intact."

That statement did not reassure him at all. In fact. . . Oh shit. It became crystal clear Collins had never intended to take Nicky. Threatening to kidnap him had been just an idle threat. Because he'd been right, he had been the one Mark had wanted all along. Him. . . His research. . . His brain. . .

"You've finally figured it out, haven't you?" Collins sneered.

"Figured out what?" asked Walter, still shaken by how easily he'd fallen into his former friend's trap.

"Don't play dumb with me." Mark's lips twisted mockingly. "We both know you're not."

Walter turned away and stared out the window. Learning Collins had been manipulating him. . . He hated feeling foolish and nothing made him feel that way than being outsmarted by someone with a lower IQ.. His brooding was short-lived, however, when he saw lights up head in the distance.

"We won't get far driving a stolen vehicle, especially one as conspicuous as this van," he pointed out.

"I've already taken care of that."

"Stealing another car would counterproductive. . ."

"I'm not an idiot," Collins declared. "I befriended another inmate at that lovely institution you dumped me into who was paroled last month. In exchange for testifying on his behalf, he would procure a car and other supplies for me."

"I'm surprised you made a friend," mused Walter.

"He's hardly a friend, more like a useful tool in my plan to escape."

"Now that sounds like you," Walter said, not keeping his contempt from his words. "That's all I ever was to you, wasn't I? A useful tool."

"Oh, Walter, you. . ."

"I know, you thought I was smarter than that. And I am, just not about relationships. You knew that, too, and took advantage. Just like you're taking advantage of me now. You knew I'd sacrifice myself for them."

"I'm doing you a favor really."

"By taking me away from the people I care about?" Walter asked incredulously. "The people I love?"

"I used to be like you, used to believe love was the strongest of human emotions," Collins said, twisting Walter's words from earlier that evening. "But I was wrong and so are you. It is the weakest. It brings nothing but pain and suffering. What are the odds on your brain dead waitress bearing two genius children? You would have grown to resent her. . .and the child.

"You and I, Walter, we are meant to be together. We don't need anyone else. Our brains, working in harmony. . . You will thank me someday."

"I doubt it," Walter shot back. "I certainly don't need you. I never have. You're the one who's. . ."

"You grow tiresome," Mark snapped, a sure sign Walter had gotten under his armor. "If you keep whining on about our friendship, a friendship you destroyed by the way, I'll turn back around and trade you for your son. At least he has a reason to cry."

As that was the last thing Walter wanted him to do, he stopped talking. And starting thinking. The lights he'd seen earlier grew closer as they approached the outskirts of a small town. Wondering if this was where Mark's "useful tool" had stashed another vehicle, and knowing he couldn't ask, he began running scenarios through his mind. He soon came to the conclusion he needed more data to come up with a feasible plan, like the name of the town up ahead.

Dammit, he couldn't let Collins win. Not if he ever wanted to see his family again.

And he did. More than anything.