Thank you for the kind reviews, much appreciated. This is turning out to be a slow burn story, so I hope you enjoy the journey, and someone can tell me to hurry it up if the fic starts to drag. ;)

For a long few seconds, there wasn't a noise in the garage. Paige ran a hand through her hair, exhaling in frustration at the silence. "What does that mean? Why would Walter be in contact with these people?"

Sylvester twisted his hands together. "I don't know. I only looked at the screen for a second. It was…" He shut his eyes, calling up the image in his head. "I-It was a private chat. Not a message board. The conversation was moving fast. It's all out of context, but I'll write what I saw." He took a seat at the desk Ralph had just vacated, borrowing the young genius's tablet and starting to type.

Paige felt a hand on her back and looked up to see Cabe's sympathetic expression. "I'm sure there's a good explanation, kid."

"But it's not going to help him, is it?" Homeland had his computers. Their best techs would be combing through every interaction, every search, every download. It was only a matter of time before they reached the same conclusion as the team, if they hadn't already.

"Depends on what they talked about. If they've been planning to set Walter up for a while, that chat might be more incriminating that he realized at the time. We need all the details."

Sylvester stood up, his chair squeaking loudly. They'd found it on the floor that morning and Paige surmised that one of the wheels had been damaged when the agents knocked it over. "This is all of it," the mathematician said, offering the tablet to Cabe. "I'm sorry. I-I should have—."

"Sly," Paige interrupted, knowing exactly what he was going to say. They wouldn't get anywhere beating themselves up like this. "This is a start. Thank you."

He nodded, looking apologetic but mollified. Happy read over Cabe's shoulder, frowning. "Not good."

"No, it isn't," Cabe admitted. "Sly?"

Sylvester shrugged, passing the tablet off to Ralph and Toby. If anyone had insight into Walter's mind, it would be his protégé. But the young genius looked as perplexed as the rest of them. "I'll start working on it."

"Okay, honey. Just be safe," Paige reminded his retreating form. She leaned in, lowering her voice. "Can't we access Walter's laptop again and find the whole thing?"

Toby shook his head. "Not for a few days. It's risky tapping into Homeland's system too often."

Part of her had already known that. And there was no way she was going to put Ralph in the line of fire unnecessarily. She was already doubting how much she'd let him get involved.

Happy pressed her lips together. "Even if we get everything, Walter's the only one who knows how he met these jokers and where we might find them. We've got no way to contact him, so we'll have to wait for him to reach out."

"That could be weeks," Sylvester reminded, somewhat superfluously since they were all thinking the same thing. "Months."

"Maybe not."

Paige hesitated, feeling the weight of the team's eyes on her. She hadn't spoken to Walter since he left town, and he'd purposely kept her in the dark about his plans. If her hunch was correct, she didn't want to put him or Scorpion in more danger. If it wasn't, Paige already knew she would be disappointed and embarrassed that she was so blindly hopeful.

But it was worth the risk. For the case and for her own sanity.

Paige crossed her arms, taking a deep breath. "I can't promise anything. But I might know where he is."

"How could you do this, Walter? All those people? You just killed them?"

"I didn't. Paige, you have to believe me." Her voice was so cold. He'd thought she would trust him. Know he wasn't capable of this. "I was set up. They tried to kill me. Paige—."

"Stop. I don't want to hear it. The evidence doesn't lie. I know it was you." Walter clutched the phone in his hand, aware that his breathing was too loud, too shallow. He would look suspicious. Someone in the train terminal would notice a man having a panic attack. "Wherever you're going, you better stay there. If you ever come back, I'll personally help them put you in a dark hole. Don't contact me or my son again."

"Paige, please. Please, just listen—."

But the line was already dead.

Walter bolted up, his chest thumping. He shut his eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply until he'd calmed down. It wasn't real. Paige believed him. She was on his side. Their last conversation had convinced him of that.

His nightmares should have been about the bruises that still marked his body. The darkness surrounding him as he was abducted, the pain of breaking his own fingers to escape, the carnage of the explosion that played on a loop on every TV station, reminding him over and over again of what he'd failed to stop. But his subconscious was caught on the terrifying outcome of his family doubting him, turning on him when he needed them the most. If Paige had given up on him, what point would there have been in fighting?

God, he wanted to hear her voice. Reassure her and himself that they would get through this. Make sure she was alright. But calling her again wasn't an option. Reaching out to her unnecessarily was…selfish. Dangerous. Stupid. And incredibly tempting.

Walter's mind was stuck in an unproductive loop, so he got up, stretching out the kinks in his back from the bumpy sleeper sofa and throwing on a shirt. The smell of coffee and the sound of humming alerted him that Veronica was already awake.

"Morning!" she chirped when he emerged from the office. "Do you want a bagel?"

There was a brown bag on the counter from a diner he'd passed while walking to her apartment. He couldn't very well insult the cooking of the woman who was aiding and abetting him, but takeout was still a welcome sight. "Yes. Thank you." He covered his mouth, a yawn taking him by surprise. "What time is it?"

"About seven thirty. I had an early start today." Veronica tilted her head back without moving her eyes from the counter. "Living room."

Walter frowned, bracing himself for whatever potentially illegal activity she had brewing ten feet away.

Didn't matter now. He was in far more trouble with the law than she could ever be.

He stopped short, blinking as he processed the mountain of equipment piled on the coffee table. Monitors, keyboards, SIM cards, and something that looked like a signal scrambler. "What?" was all he managed.

"I saw the laptop you brought with you. It's a piece of junk," she said, setting out a plate with the bagel and a plastic container of cream cheese.

"It's a backup. I couldn't find mine." Walter grunted, feeling annoyed all over again. He didn't misplace things. The more likely explanation was that his abductors had taken it first to plant evidence. He was supposed to be dead, right? They didn't think he would miss it. "Where did this come from?"

"An old associate. Wouldn't quite call him a friend. But if you're going to work your nerd magic on this situation, I figured you could use some technology."

Walter shook his head, frustration and concern getting the better of him. "Veronica, you can't blow your cover to help me. No one is supposed to know that you're alive. What if he—."

She rolled her eyes, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms. "As far as he's concerned, my name is 'paid with cash.' I've been in hiding a lot longer than you, Walter. Have some faith in me?"

The genius pressed his lips together, nodding. Lecturing Veronica was pointless and probably rude, according to a voice in his head that sounded a lot like Paige. He was just determined not to bring anyone else down with his mistakes.

"Thank you." It was a positive development. He needed to tear apart his life, as deeply as the government was, searching for any evidence that could exonerate him. But too much power usage would draw attention. He would have to ration out his work, keep himself and his de facto safe house under the radar. How was he supposed to prove his innocence when he was crippled like this?

Walter took another breath. He had one of the highest IQs in recorded history and this wasn't the most difficult problem he'd ever faced. Perhaps it just felt that way because he was isolated from his team. But wherever they were, he had no doubt they were fighting for him as hard as he was fighting for them.

"Eat your bagel, Walter. It's artisanal." There was a quiet ping, and Veronica slipped her phone out of her pocket, squinting at the screen. "Huh. I've got a message from Ralph."

The genius stiffened. Ralph was an incredibly intelligent kid. Walter was stupid to think that Ralph wouldn't at least suspect his location. Or maybe he was being paranoid. Veronica was in somewhat regular communication with her grandson. Why wouldn't Ralph reach out, considering everything that had happened? Just to talk?

Veronica smiled wryly and handed him the phone, dropping the hint "not from Ralph" before returning to her breakfast preparation.

Mom,

Maybe I'm wildly off base here. I don't know. I don't know anything right now. But if Walter is with you, or if you know where he is, please give him this message. If not…Ralph and I miss you.

Walter, I wouldn't reach out unless it was important. We think we have a lead. The manifesto they attributed to you shares a lot of similarities with posts on anti-government message boards. Sylvester says you've been in contact with four of the users before. We need you to tell us what this exchange means, and how you met them.

JeffersonD: Why is no one listening? People are suffering.

JamesZG: You need to keep going. We need people who will take action. Not just talk. What you're doing is revolutionary.

WOB: Thank you. Running into funding problems but this is still my priority.

WadeH: Money we can help with. This is a good cause.

ZebulonB: He's right. You have our support.

JamesZG: We need to change how we do things. At any cost. Lives are at stake.

The usernames were Confederate heroes. Jefferson Davis, James Zachariah George, Wade Hampton III, and Zebulon Baird Vance. He remembered thinking that was a little odd. But he wasn't conversing with them about politics or history, so their implied views weren't relevant. They were brothers who'd read about his MS research and reached out to him, in the midst of caring for their own ill sister. They were empathetic to his experience with Megan. When everyone else had seemed to move on from her death, they were still in the thick of the disease. He related to them. There were a few disagreements over the aggressiveness of treatment, and they gradually fell out of contact, but they had inspired him to continue working toward a cure.

Of course, none of that was real. It had merely been a setup to establish prior history between them. That was months ago. How long had they been leaving breadcrumbs, making sure all trails led back to him? Out of context, this conversation could be manipulated to mean anything. If their inside source had access to his computers now, they could easily tamper with the dozens of exchanges, assembling their own narrative. And any expert would say the communication was real, because it was.

He couldn't have been that naïve. Couldn't have been desperate enough for understanding and support that he bought into their story, too absorbed in holding onto his sister's memory that he missed what was happening right in front of him. But what other explanation was there?

That wasn't the end of the e-mail. Walter scrolled down.

Since we're already doing this…I miss you so much already, Walter. I hope you are where I think you are, because that means you're not totally alone. Please be safe. And don't worry about the team, Cabe is taking care of us. Just do what you need to do to get through this. However long that takes, we will be right here. I love you.

Paige

She always knew what he needed, somehow. Walter released a rough breath, switching off the phone. He needed a moment to process.

"You gonna answer that?" Veronica asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I can't…we can't keep doing this. It's not safe." He set the device on the counter, running a hand over his face. He'd left to protect the team as much as himself. Logically, sharing information with them would yield the best results. But the consequences would be severe if anyone found out that Paige knew where he was, or even that she hadn't disclosed their communication. What if his abductors suspected that they could get to him through her? What would they do to her for the chance to tie up loose ends? "T-Tell Paige she's wrong. Tell her I'm not here."

"I'm not going to do that. I've lied to my daughter enough. Besides, she only knows you're here. She has no idea where here is. Ralph and I have been e-mailing each other all this time and no one's the wiser, right?"

"It's different," he snapped. There were a million thoughts running through his head unfiltered and it felt almost like that very first step into the rabbit hole. "No one is looking for you. Everyone in the country is looking for me and any contact I have with the team is putting them in danger."

"Do you think they care?" Veronica grabbed his hand and shoved the phone back into his palm, a stern expression on her face, and in that split second she couldn't have reminded him any more of her daughter. "They've made it very clear they're willing to accept that risk. You may be smarter than them individually, but combined they're a hell of a lot smarter than you. You need them. So stop hiding and answer the damn message, Walter. I don't want you living on my couch forever."