Chapter 11: Seaglass and Moonlight

A/N: I refuse to accept Megan's death. I felt like while I understood the reasoning to get Walter to feel, it was too soon and I wish they had given us more of her. And as an MS fighter myself, I just wanted more hope for her. So, in my little world, Megan is not going out that quickly. Also, it made me sad that she and Sylvester didnt receive more screen time. This doesn't necessarily pertain to this chapter, justed wanted to state my case! lol

Thank you for all of your kind words in your comments! I haven't written fanfiction in over a decade, but this came into my head and it needed to be done. I found Scorpion earlier this year and became obsessed. So sad with how it ended, so started reading fix it stories to men's my broken heart lol.. Anyway, I'm so grateful for the warm welcome you've given me back on this platform!

Sorry for any spelling/grammar errors, I am usually writing on my phone very late at night and try to cognizant, I did notice rereading chapters that I missed some errors. I will try to go back through and fix at some point.

As far as Walter and his overnight shift of EQ, I have always had this sense that he *has* the EQ, he just didnt know how to show it, and that Paige had this way with him, being a safe harbor for him to freely express that side of him he keeps locked away. So, I dont see it so much as an overnight change, so much as she unlocked the vault, and now he has a new perspective on things. Like when in S3 and he was able to empathize with Cabe, or S2 when he was so worried about having been a bad friend to Toby. What can I say, I think Walter is a closet softy emotional dumpster fire just like the rest of us!

Okay, back to the date!!

Chapter 11: Sea Glass and Moonlight

"Today, at the garage, I...struggled...with my thoughts, and my uh, feelings, regarding Megan." Paige squeezed his hand, as they pulled into the dark parking lot, being supportive, turning her body in her seat to give him her full attention, but also taking a glance around, surely trying to decipher why he had brought her here. "I don't typically allow myself to think too deeply on things as it pertains to her on an emotional level. But seeing Sly building that device for her, and then seeing you sitting there across from me, relating my own feelings for you to the way that Sly feels for my sister, how he would do anything to make her feel a little less pain, just as I would you, I don't know, it just clicked. Like a lightswitch came on inside my head, and all of these feelings came rushing to the surface, and I didn't know how to process that. As a result, I snapped at you, and that was wrong of me on every conveivable level. You were trying to help. It's been troubling to navigate, but my intention was never to take that out on you, and I am truly sorry." He was occasionally meeting her eyes, noting how the moonlight was glimmering in them, and how the way she looked at him was not one of repulsion, or even sympathy, it was just quiet understanding.

"Walter, you've spent years of your life denying these feelings, pushing them down so as to not face them. It's going to take time to learn how to process it all. That's expected. I have seen EQ in you since that first day I met you, my job has been teaching you to see it too. But what's important here is that today, you had that same opportunity to deny your feelings, lock them away, say something curt to Sylvester, or just ignore it all, but instead, you chose to feel them, and not just that, you chose empathy and compassion toward Sylvester. You went out of your way to show him kindness. Then, you recognized that you needed a moment to collect yourself, rather than pretending nothing had happened, and when you were overcome with your feelings and snapped, you immediately recognized it, apologized and talked it through. I'm really proud of you for how you handled yourself today. I know you saw it as a weakness, but Walter, today I witnessed you being so strong." Her voice was calm and reassuring as she spoke quietly. She saw into him in a way that no one else ever could. Recognized his efforts, applauded them, even. Even in his shortcomings, she was always patient, reassuring, understanding. At this point, his only explanation for how she did it all was sorcery. Which was foolish, since he didn't even believe in such a notion, but, this was Paige, and if there was anyone that could make him believe in the unbelievable, it was her.

Definitely sorcery.

For his part, he stared out the windshield, taking in the way that the waves crashed over each other on the distance, reflecting like sparkles in the moonlight. He didn't respond, simply nodded, processing her analysis of his behavior. Perhaps he had been looking at it all wrong. Emotions could be a strength, not just a weakness or hindrance to intellect. "Do you want to tell me why we're at the beach, well past 10pm on a Thursday night?" She giggled. "I'm not exactly dressed for surfing." It made him laugh.

He locked eyes with her, showing vulnerability.

"Come with me? I want to show you something." He was about to let her in, beyond his walls, to something special beyond them, hoping she could see that in his eyes, his words, the way he squeezed her hand, risking electrocution. She smiled, an earnest smile.

She saw it.

Sorcery, always with the sorcery.

"Okay." Quickly, he hopped out of the car. She made the attempt to open her own door, but before she could even pull the handle all the way, he was there, opening it for her, extending his hand.

"You're too sweet to me, Walter O'Brien." She mused, taking his hand. Almost instantly, upon exiting the car, she felt the cool breeze coming off the water and shivered involuntarily.

"You're cold." Facts, always with the facts.

"It's okay, show me what you wanted me to see. I'll be okay." She reassured, though, he was certain she was lying. Swiftly, he removed his sport coat, placing it over her shoulders, letting her slip her arms into the sleeves. "Thank you." Leaning into his side, he wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her arms and back to warm her up.

"Well you do seem to look better in my clothing." He muttered, more to himself than to her, but she laughed none the less. "One second." He stated, going to the trunk and pulling out a tote bag, her eyes following his movements with intrigue written all over her face. "Okay, this way." She linked her arms with his, looking down at the bag he carried. He knew she wanted to ask, but she remained silent. Together they walked to the edge of the lot, down a small set of concrete steps, and onto the sandy beach, the only light coming from the moon above, the distant city lights, the the one street light from the parking lot, which was flickering.

"I'm just going to take these off." Paige joked as she tumbled in the sand wearing her heels, having to be caught by Walter to keep from faceplanting.

"I really do not know how you walk in those on flat ground, nevermind in sand." Walter joked as she handed him one of her heels so she could remove the other. Inwardly, he was excited as they both were removed and her height dropped significantly again. As she took back her shoes in one hand, she took his hand, interlacing her fingers with his with her other.

This felt right.

Walking hand in hand with Paige, on the beach, with the moonlight overhead illuminating a light path on the water, and casting a halo glow on her hair, much like when he found her outside the garage the night before, the soft sound of the waves coming ashore singing them a lullaby of calmness, the light sea air breeze tossling her hair and blowing at the hem of her dress. As hard as he tried, he couldn't think of a single place he would rather be.

He leaned over to kiss the top of her head as they walked, and he was fairly certain he saw a smile form on her lips.

They walked a bit further down, before he stopped, and she looked around at where they were.

"Wait, is this..." Recognition, and a solid mix of confusion, crossed her face in furrowed brows and a twisted up smile.

"Where we saved that boy, Owen, at Christmas? Yes." He opened the bag up, pulling out a blanket, laying it out on the sand. She smiled in a way that told him she was happy to see this was something that had been thought up before they went out, having been prepared to take her here, for whatever reason that may be. Releasing her hand briefly, they each sat, impossibly close on the blanket, Paige snuggling in close, and Walter instinctively wrapping his arm around her. That confused him, his own body knew how to respond to her with instinct, but his rational mind could not, no matter how hard he tried, make sense of why.

"Is this some Walter reference to being brought back to life or something?" She was confused, and he chuckled. That was definitely something he would do.

"No, no. Yes, this is where we saved Owen, but the only reason I was here when that rockslide happened was because I was here with Megan." Realization hit her face, and she having him a knowing smile. Together on the blanket, he pulled out a thermos and two mugs, as well as a small cooler bag, opening it to reveal cheese, crackers, and grapes. "Decalf. With cinnamon." He assured, as he poured the cups. Her eyes were wide in the moonlight taking in his small spread of late night snacking, her lips pulled into an astonished smile. "After you all met Megan last year, she and I started coming here a couple times a week, wanting to spend more time together away from the hospital. It has become a place that I feel, I don't know, connected to her in some way, though, rationally that makes absolutely no sense to me. She says that being here brings her peace." Picking up a small pebble in the sand beside the blanket he threw it as hard as he could toward the water, partially in frustration at his complex feelings, and partially in distraction from them.

"I can see why she would feel that way. And why you would feel that coming here. I'm glad you brought me." Mimicking his motions, she also sent a pebble flying toward the watery abyss, shooting a sideways smile his way and gently bumping her shoulder into his.

"Well, that day, right before the rockslide, I was trying to convince Megan to join a clinical trial."

"The trial she's in now?"

"Mmm. She was very reluctant. Said it would take a miracle to save her. Of which I, of course, told her was rubbish. There was no such thing. She was ready to give up, just live out her days, stop fighting. But, when we were at the hospital after the rescue, her seeing the miracle in Owen surviving against all odds, being a part of saving him, she agreed to the trial, saying it was a sign."

"Definitely sounds like a sign. Sounds like two miracles happened that day for you, Walter." Paige mused, making him smile a He cranes his neck to look at her, nibbling on a cracker and cheese sandwich.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. If I believed in that, of course." His effort to sound convincing was pathetic at best, and he knew it. That day with Owen and Megan, he questioned his own belief system, and had been questioning it ever since. Sitting here, holding the woman of his dreams, was nothing short of miraculous. Made him wonder if there was something else, someone else, with some level of influence over things.

Or, perhaps, it was just sorcery.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Paige resting her head on Walter's shoulder, arm entertwined with his, holding his hand, definitely absorbing warmth from him. Both watching as the waves broke onto the sand, lost in their own thoughts.

"She is, uh, not doing as well as I had hoped." Paige turned her head to look up at him, not breaking their physical contact at all. It brought him comfort. "I have been struggling to come to terms with the prospect of...well, losing her. My research is not going as fast as I would have hoped, either. So, this intrusive feeling of failing her has been silently consuming me. But today, I realized that I was also failing her in not being emotionally present for her...the way that Sly is. It's, uh, distressing." His voice cracked, as he spoke, trying to control himself.

"Oh Walter..."

"Anyway, that's, umm, why I was upset. Why I snapped at you. My whole life, she has been there for me, and now she needs me more than ever, and I can't even recognize that she's hurting emotionally, never mind actually do something to help her. It uh, it bothers me."

"Walter, you put so much pressure on yourself." He wasnt looking at her, and he knew she didn't approve when she grabbed his chin and forcibly turned him to face her. "You are there for Megan. Sure, you may not yet be able to see when she is emotionally struggling, but maybe she also isn't showing you that she is." He looked at her, perplexed. How could that be possible? "Walter, you're this superhuman, who has openly expressed that emotions are weakness. Just like you don't want to let people see you emotional, afraid they'll view you as weak, maybe Megan doesn't want you to think she is." He was certain Megan would never hide anything from him. Or would she? "Sylvester is an EQ dumpster fire, she knows she can express those feelings to him, because he also expresses his feelings to her. It's a two way street. How can Megan be vulnerable with you when you're not vulnerable with her?" He mulled that over, and it made sense to him. The way he had been able to open up to her, to expose himself to her, suddenly made sense, because she reciprocated.

"So, you're saying I should talk to Megan? about my uh, feelings?"

"Well, I think that you both are trying very hard to be strong for the other, so much so that you're avoiding the elephant in the room, which is currently keeping you both at arm's length from the other."

"Elephant?" He was absolutely certain that there was no elephant in any room.

"You're both scared, Walter. I think those feelings wouldn't feel as overwhelming to you if you talked about them, stopped giving them this power over you. And who knows, it may even open up a new type of relationship you could have with Megan, could get to know her on another level, especially if things don't turn out as we all hope."

"We were able to save Owen from certain death, allow him to do the impossible - breathe underwater, and survive well beyond what would have, scientifically proven, resulted in brain damage, and yet, I can't save my own sister." He was frustrated. He understood what she was saying, but that didn't change his feeling of hopelessness.

"Walter, you're not God. You can't save everyone. Owen was in the wrong place at the wrong time, a body trapped in a cave that machinery could free him from. Satelites go rogue and we can use machinery to save the day. You can use a crate of oranges to misdirect a hail of bullets. Math, science. But, Walter, when it's our time, it's our time. Megan isn't in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her body is failing, dying. She's sick. If one of those bullets had hit me last year, it wouldn't be because you failed. It just...is. It wasn't my time yet, just like it wasn't Owen's time, or your time on that cliff. Maybe us finding ourselves in those situations are to open our eyes to things. Your crash opened up both of our eyes to each other, Owen's cavein opened Megan up to believing and fighting again, and bringing you both closer, brought her closer to Sylvester. And I am certain that Megan would agree that if she does die, she wouldn't want you blaming yourself for not being God. We just have to make the most of our time while we're here, save the people we can, make the differences we can make, be there for one another...but we can't save everyone." He nodded, processing.

"But your logic is flawed." The questioning look she gave forced him to press further. "You blame yourself for your father's passing. An aneurysm that was likely impossible to save him from, even with every resource available. And yet, you still carry guilt for his death. So, I'm confused." He wasn't trying to be crass, or insensitive, just trying to understand.

"You've got me there, I do. Death isn't something that should be taken lightly, Walter. It's difficult. It's emotional, messy. It's irrational. It's unbearably painful, and it makes us do things that don't even make sense to us. And yes, I carry guilt every single day for my dad's death. I know, rationally, I couldn't have saved him, but it won't keep me from questioning all of the what ifs involved. It's part of death, especially an unexpected one, to think of all the things left unsaid. I took for granted the time I had with him, always believing I would have more. I didn't appreciate it until it was too late. That's where my guilt stems from, not from not being able to prevent the unpreventable. My guilt comes from his last time hearing my voice was my voicemail greeting because I was too callous to make the time for him, instead of me telling him how much I loved him. In knowing that he died alone, when I should have been with him. In questioning if he was calling to tell me about some symptom he was having that I would have forced him to go to the hospital for, but instead, he heard the same generic voice message he had heard hundreds of times. I took it all for granted. I didn't think he would die." He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her tightly to his body. Though her words carried so much emotion, she seemed oddly calm to him.

"I don't want Megan to die." He rationed, simply, factually.

"I know you don't. Of course you don't. But are you prepared to be a part of her living is what you need to decide. Or do you want to realize, too late, that you could have made her time more fun and less hospitals and pain." He could tell she was also not trying to be crass or insensitive, just enlightening him.

"I want to help her live, in all aspects of the word. I just...don't know how." He looked at her solumnly, and she stroked his cheek. "I'm a bit out of my league. I'm actually jealous of Sylvester, and how easily it comes to him."

"Well, maybe that's a starting point. Opening up to Megan, talking to Sylvester. No one knows Megan's needs as well as Megan herself, and no one knows how to meet Megan's needs emotionally quite like Sylvester."

"That would seem a logical first step, then." He agreed, kissing her forehead. Abruptly standing, putting an end to that conversation in classic Walter fashion, he reached his good hand down to her. "Would you care to take a walk with me? Find some seashells or something? Normal people enjoy that, yes?"

"I would love that, and yes, normal people enjoy collecting seashells." Her giggle brought him comfort, and they walked together toward the shore.

Paige encouraged him, with some reluctance, to remove his shoes, rolling up.his pant legs, and they walked along the water, letting it cascade over their feet and ankles. An occasional shriek from Paige as the cold water hit her feet or ankles made him laugh, usually followed by a swift sprint from the water, and then playfully splashing him. He was laughing, chasing her on the shoreline. True, unadulterated, laughter. Walter O'Brien, stoic enigma, was having fun, playing in the sand on the beach with his girlfriend.

"I love it when you laugh, Walter O'Brien." She called out to him, as she playfully pushed him down to the sand, landing atop of him, just as a wave came up and over them, soaking them both with the frigid water. Paige leapt up from him and the sand, innocently backing up, in a fit of laughter, dripping wet.

Walter was soaked and sandy, and had an expression of shock, followed by a devilish grin as he rose to his feet and watched her retreating.

"Oh, for that you're going to pay!" Walter lunged at her, picking her up in one quick motion, being mindful of his braced hand, throwing her over his shoulder and walking toward the water, spinning her around a few times just to hear her screech.

"No! Walter! No, no, no!!! Walter O'Brien, don't you dare! Walter! Waaaalter!!!!"

Their combined laughter echoing in the waves, the way she was attempting to wriggle out of his grasp, while simultaneously clutching to him with a death grip, brought an extraordinary smile to his face that extended far beyond his eyes. His entire body was smiling.

"Okay, okay, okay." He laughed out, gently placing her back down, about a foot deep in the water, delighting in her squealing from the cold as he did so.

"I guess I deserved that." She quipped, taking his gloved hand, and walking back toward the shore.

As they reached the water's edge, he bent down, seeing a piece of blue sea glass reflecting off of the moons light. Carefully uncovering it, he presented it to Paige.

"Sea glass. Not a shell, but scientifically speaking, very interesting." She smirked, taking the proffered item.

"It's beautiful, Walter..." at his boyish grin, she chuckled and added "...and scientifically interesting."

They collected a few more shells and pieces of sea glass, filling the pockets of Walter's sports coat, his very wet sports coat. They stopped at the shore, letting the waves crash over them once more, holding each other close.

"Thank you for showing me this special place, Walter." Paige whispered into the night, head nestled close into his chest and jaw, arms wrapped tightly around his abdomen, stealing whatever warmth she could get from him. He placed a kiss to her forehead, laying his own cheek atop her head, silently laughing at her wet, tussled hair.

"Thank you for showing me the perspective I needed." Together, they stood in silence, just absorbing the moment together. Wet, cold, and immensely happy.

"Hey Walt?" She spoke just above a whisper. It was calm, steady, but so low that had he not been paying attention, he wouldn't have even heard her.

"Hmm?" His arms were so tighly wound around her that he thought he might break her, but he didn't want to let go, didn't want to break this moment.

"I'd like to remember. That is, if you'd like to remember." He was certain she could feel his smile forming across his face on the top of her head. Slowly pulling back, he looked her straight in the eyes, no hesitation, no fear, no stress to be found in them.

"Paige, I would love that."

"I love you, Walter O'Brien." Her own smile spread across her cheeks, disappearing behind the loose, wet tendrils of her hair. "I don't care if it's too soon. It's not soon enough. We're not promised tomorrow, right? So, I love you, Walter. I am hopelessing and ridiculously in love with you, and I don't care who knows. I am happy, and I love how much you make me happy. So, fast or not, I don't care. I love you." He had heard her ramble, he had heard her go on a tirade, this was somewhere in between, and he had never heard anything more captivating in his life.

Turning away from her to face the water, Walter O'Brien did something so uncharacteristic of him, he screamed. Much like he had done the last time they were together on that beach, only this time, he wasn't angry or frustrated with the world or a higher power.

He was alive.

He was happy.

He was in love.

"I'm in love with Paige Dineen!!!!" He screamed, arms up in triumph to the crashing waves, making her giggle uncontrollably behind him. Turning, with what could only be described as the most school boy grin, he pulled her to him, placing his hand on the side of her face, while his gloved one pulled her close on her back. Her own hands wrapped around his back. "I'm in love with you, Paige." He felt her height rise up as she went up on her tip toes to kiss him. For the second time that night, he stopped her, pulling back. "I promised..."

"Walter O'Brien, if you don't kiss me right now, you're going back into that water." He weighed his options for a moment, looking between the warm, wonderful woman in his arms wanting to kiss him with a fire in her soul, and the cold, rigid waters of the ocean. "Oh my god, Walter, kiss me!" Her laughter against his lips as he chose wisely, capturing her in a fierce kiss, made his soul radiate with his own fire.

Yes, Megan had been right about this place. It was peaceful.