Prologue: Random Events Change the Course of History

Author's Note:

Hi, welcome, hello! Please read the previous chapter, "Please Read Before Continuing" before you read any further. This is not your usual Waige fic. This love story of Paige and Walter does not end with a happily ever after. In this story, both Walter and his alternate universe alter ego die and Paige dies as well. If this premise is too upsetting or not the kind of Waige fanfic you are looking for, you have been duly warned, TURN BACK NOW.

September 22, 2014

Toby, a Harvard-trained genius behaviorist, burst through the door to the Garage, home of Scorpion, and the rest of the team of geniuses just stared at him in surprise. He peeked out a grimy window a few feet down from the door, "Shh! Keep your voices down! Just for a minute!" The occupants of the Garage could hear shouts of anger and banging on the door. Sylvester, sometimes known as 'Sly,' Scorpion's youngest member and mathematical prodigy, curled in on himself a bit, trying to make himself smaller and less noticeable should the thugs outside become the thugs inside at any moment. Walter, the founder of Scorpion, a team of geniuses, looked irritated, and Happy, the team's only woman and engineering genius, caught his eye and just shrugged her shoulders as if to say What can you do about it?

Walter walked over to the window as well, searching for the source of the ruckus, "Uh, Toby… tell me you have the Lynwood payment."

Toby shushed Walter once again before replying, "First, can I note how I nearly tripled the Lynwood payment?"

Nearly? Walter's eyebrows almost connected with his hairline as he processed Toby's statement. Happy pulled the two men back from the window where they would certainly be noticed, "So those thugs are chasing you down to give you a big congratulations?"

Toby smiled briefly at Happy, pleased with any kind of attention from the beautiful woman, "I beat them in poker!" he crowed. "They're born chumps! Pupils that dilate like saucers whenever they had a good hand. Come on!"

Sly pulled himself together enough to speak, "A Harvard-trained behaviorist should know that people don't like to get cheated!" His voice cracked on the final syllable.

As the pounding on the door grew louder and the threats grew in intensity and volume, Happy moved toward the door to check that it was double-bolted, grateful that it was. "I hate you." She turned away from Toby, trying her best to ignore the charismatic doctor.

Toby smirked, knowing Happy was rattled. She was one tough nut to crack, but even rattled she was still tougher than nails. "No, you don't."

Walter was tired of whatever was going on between Happy and Toby. It definitely wasn't the time for it. Sylvester was practically in tears. And those thugs outside were still very determined to get inside. He didn't doubt that they had weapons and would not hesitate to use them. Allowing his frustration to seep out, he growled, "We have a combined I.Q. of nearly 700, and we can't even pay our bills."

Toby shrugged, though the persistence of his gambling marks from earlier today was getting a bit unnerving, "We had a bad day!"

It took every ounce of restraint Walter had not to knock the ridiculous hat off of Toby's head and the smirk off his smug face, "We've been at this two years! The whole reason why I started this company is because we have more to offer than just fixing routers!"

Toby clapped Walter on the shoulder. Irritated, Walter shrugged his hand off even as Toby spoke, "Walter, I'm reading a textbook panic response to normal financial stressors."

"Normal financial stressors?" Walter parrotted in disbelief. Happy pulled Walter over to the side, leaving some space between the two of them and Toby.

"Okay, if this thing is going south, Walt, just let me know, 'cause I have a cousin who owns a garage in Phoenix…" Happy trailed off. She wanted Walter's reassurance, she liked working with him, with the others, at least as much as she liked working with anyone. The four of them had a good thing going and she was reluctant to give it up.

Ignoring an impulse to put his fist through a nearby wall, Walter took a deep breath, then sagged in defeat as he spoke, "No matter how hard we try… and I know we're all trying… we're a million miles from normal."

The banging and yelling from outside continued unabated. "Jeez, can these guys not take a hint?" Toby laughed nervously.

As little use as Walter had for law enforcement generally, he was seriously considering calling the police. The pair of thugs outside were doing a fair amount of damage to the building, probably his car, and it even sounded like they were trying to break the windows of the warehouse next door. Something would need to be done to stop them, and soon, since they weren't giving up on their own.

"I can do this all day, cheater. The question is, how long can your door take it?" One of the thugs called out to the occupants of the Garage. Sly stifled a whimper and put his fist in his mouth to avoid allowing any more sounds to escape.

Happy turned to Walter, "You've got to do something before Sylvester has a breakdown." They both looked at the younger man. "I mean more than normal."

Walter had just shrugged and pulled his phone out of his pocket when the sound of sirens wailing pierced the uneasy silence of the Garage.

Two black SUVs with tinted windows came to a screeching halt in the street in front of the Garage. Three agents exited the vehicles, eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses. The leader of the group, older than the other two by quite a few years, moved until he was toe to toe with the thug with the loudest mouth.

The leader looked the older man up and down, "Hey, good, Gramps. Your timing's perfect. A guy in there ripped us off."

"Gramps?" the lead agent returned. "I'll show you 'Gramps,' I'll put a bag of pills in your pocket fat enough to get you a room in Lompoc. Understand? Now, hit it."

The thug swallowed uncomfortably, "Yeah, whatever. That guy in there isn't worth the hassle. Let's go." he signaled to his lackey. The pair reluctantly moved back toward their car as they watched the lead agent bang on the door. Curiosity piqued, the loudmouth signaled for his partner to wait with him just out of sight to see what would happen next.

The lead agent continued to bang on the door to the Garage, "Homeland Security." his voice was muffled on the other side of the door but those inside the Garage heard him distinctly.

Walter turned to Toby, "Is this you?"

For the first time since he started running from those guys who wanted to break his legs and assorted body parts, Toby felt a frisson of fear run down his spine. "No!"

The lead agent pounded on the Garage door again. He was quickly running out of patience and time. "We're looking for Walter O'Brien!" He slid his badge under the door.

Hesitantly Happy picked it up, and she tossed it to Walter. "It's a badge."

Walter quickly scanned it, checking its authenticity. He nodded and Toby opened the badly abused door, the lead agent stepped through, quickly followed by the other two agents.

The thugs waiting outside watched with interest as the agents disappeared inside the Garage. It didn't appear they were particularly welcome visitors either. They saw their chance to get a little payback on that old guy who had threatened them. The two men snuck back over to where the black SUVs were parked and slashed the tires. Satisfied, they got back in their car and left. They knew where to find the card-sharp, they could always collect, with interest, another day.

Walter saw the lead agent as he slowly pulled off his mirrored sunglasses to look him in the eye. Walter took an involuntary step back. The rest of the team reacted to their leader's discomfort, shifting restlessly. "No, no, no, no." Walter cried. "Get out. Get out! Get out of here now!"

The older agent stepped toward Walter slowly, hands palm up as if to show he carried no weapon. "I wouldn't be here if I weren't desperate, trust me."

Walter unconsciously searched for an escape route before answering the federal agent before him. "'Trust you'? What is that... a joke?"

Noticing her boss' discomfort, Happy stepped in, "Who are you?"

Before the agent could answer, Walter sneered, "He's Federal Agent, Cabe Gallo. We worked together years ago. The outcome was unfavorable," to say the least, Walter didn't need to finish his thought out loud, everyone on his team heard the rest of the sentence as clearly as if he had said it.

Gallo didn't have time for this. "Put it aside, O'Brien. I need you." He took a breath to steady his voice. He knew that he couldn't show any weakness in front of Walter. "Forty-five minutes ago, there was an automatic software upgrade in the LAX control tower. It had a bug. Now the entire system's down."

Happy blanched, "Wa-wa-wait… all the communications are down?"

"Contact's been lost between Long Beach, LAX, and Burbank." Walter almost felt sorry for the federal agent. The ramifications of lost communications on incoming flights was a staggering loss of life. Almost felt sorry… Agent Gallo continued, "Incoming flights have been diverted. But the ones that were about to start their descent… fifty-six of them... are out of comm range. NSA's trying to work a satellite hook-up. FBI's attempting a Morse code signal from the observatory. We need you on software. Without landing guidance, those planes run out of fuel."

"And crash." Sly interrupted. "And crash, Walter!"

Walter spoke without feeling, "Sounds like… catastrophe is imminent. So, go find someone else. Now."

Agent Gallo was not easily dissuaded. "How about a certified Federal check for $50,000 in each of your pockets?" He looked at each team member as he spoke. "I ran checks on all of you. Mechanical prodigy, world-class shrink, a human calculator. Brilliant minds working at half-capacity. You want to do something meaningful? Here's your chance. You don't, people and metal will be falling from the sky in less than two hours. It's your call."

"Even with half my IQ, I wouldn't be dumb enough to believe you… twice." Walter stepped menacingly toward Agent Gallo, Toby put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from moving any closer to Agent Gallo. "'Put it aside'? 'Forget about it and move on' is not an option for people with photographic memories."

Happy considered the situation, both in the sky and in the Garage. "Give us a minute."

As Happy stepped closer to Walter to give at least an illusion of privacy, Gallo turned and looked at Toby standing next to him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I was mirroring you so your subconscious can relate to me," Toby told the agent helpfully. "I thought it would help you relax.

"Do you think it's working?" Gallo looked irritated. Toby wisely stepped a few feet away from the angry agent.

Happy spoke quickly and softly, "Breaking this down logically, we're not just going to let those people fall out of the sky."

A part of Walter agreed with her, but the larger part was still angry with Agent Gallo and unwilling to consent to help. "I'm telling you... I don't trust him."

Happy nodded, "I get it, but what's your deal with this guy specifically?"

Walter had never intended his team to know about his history, with Gallo, with the U.S. government, but that was all out the window now. Gallo showing up on his doorstep had seen to that, "When I was sixteen, Cabe, Agent Gallo, asked me to develop tracking software to drop military aid packages. So months later, I, uh, I turned on the TV, and I saw bombs falling on Baghdad. They were using my system, and I designed it for speed over accuracy. So two thousand civilians died."

"Walter, you… you were just a kid." Happy paused, considering her next words, "But without an influx of capital, these two are just gonna go back to hacking banks. And the next forensic analyst they run into won't be as nice as you. Now, personally, I'm cool, I can handle myself. But you need to think about the whole team here. Plus how will you live with yourself if you don't even try to save all those innocent lives?"

Agent Gallo was done messing around with Walter's indifference, "Time is wasting." His gravelly voice carried across the open space. "We've got fifty-six planes to land. NOW."

Walter glanced at the Homeland agent with irritation, "LAX Tower Control is the main hub for all the other airports."

"Fix the software there, it autocorrects in Long Beach and Burbank." Agent Gallo continued the thought.

"So, the new software's the glitch... first step is to delete that, then download the old software, should be enough for the planes to land."

Cabe Gallo allowed a ghost of a smile to cross his face, hiding it before Walter could see it. "So you're doing it?" he asked hopefully.

Sylvester glanced nervously at the Homeland agent as Walter powered down his monitors, "We go to LAX… we fix the software, we are at a ninety percent chance of success."

"Grab your equipment," Walter told the others. "Mine, too, please." he requested as he moved to walk past the Homeland agent. "Must've been keeping tabs on me to find me so quickly."

Gallo reached out and put his hand on Walter's arm to stop him momentarily, "I got promoted to the L.A. office. Only makes sense that I would track you down."

"Your body language suggests that's about half the truth," Toby told him as he handed Walter his backpack and laptop.

"Of course, there's a ten percent chance that everyone dies." Sly lamented, picking up his equipment.

Walter removed the Agent's hand from his arm. "You cross me on this, I'll go online… and in less than an hour, I will erase you."

Cabe nodded his understanding of what Walter was telling him.

As the group exited the building into the dusty parking area, the first thing they noticed was both SUVs had four flat tires. Happy snarked, "Doesn't look like we're going anywhere anytime soon."

"Damn it!" Gallo swore, "Who would have…?" he trailed as realization dawned, the thugs he had chased off earlier, of course. "Get these vehicles mobile, NOW!" he commanded the junior agents staring at the SUVs next to him.

"Yes, sir, of course, sir. What would you like us to do?"

"Change the damn tires!" Cabe snapped.

"Sir, we don't have eight spare tires."

"I know that I'm not a fool. I'm telling you to figure it out. Don't wait for me to hold your hand." The agents rushed toward the SUVs, unsure of what they could do, but wanting to look industrious. Gallo dialed his phone quickly, requesting two new SUVs delivered to the Garage's location ASAP.

Toby readjusted his ever-present hat on his head and leaned against one of the immobile SUVs, Gallo cleared his throat pointedly and Toby straightened up. "All right, listen, when the FBI and the NSA fail, do we get some kind of bonus here? I'd be willing to go double or nothing. I'm just saying."

"Toby…" Walter warned, seeing the vein on Agent Gallo's forehead start to throb frighteningly.

Just as Gallo disconnected from the home office, he received an incoming message on his radio from dispatch. "Be advised, just got word from headquarters there's a major pile-up on the 405. LAX is unreachable for hours. Repeat: LAX is a no-go."

Gallo frowned, "Copy that."

"Call for a helicopter," Toby suggested helpfully.

"Air traffic's been shut down until the situation is resolved," Gallo growled. "Looks like we're not going anywhere anytime soon."

"No copter? No ground transport? We're down to a seventeen percent chance of success." Sly calculated.

"Pipe down, Rain Man." One of the agents snickered.

Happy was sick of the Homeland agents and their attitudes. She didn't like how the junior agent spoke to Sly, "Call him that again, you better hope the Feds have a good dental plan."

"This is what we get with a bunch of geniuses?" the other agent asked sarcastically.

Irritated with everyone, Walter interrupted the bickering, "What you'll get is a solution if everyone keeps their mouth shut."

"Everyone, quiet!" Agent Gallo commanded and the chatter ceased immediately.

Silence reigned over the group for a few moments, until Walter spoke again, "We don't need to go to LAX. We just need a reliable wireless signal with no chance of going down. And we have that, right here, at the Garage. Everybody inside, NOW!"

The geniuses and agents rushed back into the Garage, Walter flipping monitors and computer banks on as he passed them.

"Roughly eighty-nine minutes until the first plane goes down. Their lives are in our hands." Cabe hollered at the group. He knew that everyone there was taking the job seriously. He just needed to say something.

Walter sat at his laptop, connecting it to the computing power of the Garage's mainframe, "Happy, script a POST check after the system's stabilized." he ordered, "Sylvester, run the odds on the patch linking back into the software. We do not want the same problem tomorrow. Toby… look for a saboteur."

Toby grinned as he opened the passenger manifest document the agents had brought, "Walter, grab me coffee. This is gonna take me, like, ninety seconds."

Sylvester, grabbed a pencil and notebook from the top of his desk, "Screw this up, brains and guts are gonna bounce all over town."

Happy smirked at his scientifically incorrect statement, "Actually, fuel tanks ignite on impact. You won't find a body part."

Toby glanced at Happy, admiring her brain and her attitude, "Eh, a blood-soaked spleen could burn at a slower rate." Happy wrinkled her nose at the idea of a burning spleen.

Gallo interrupted the chatter, holding out a government-issued radio to Walter, "Secure channel to LAX. Air traffic supervisor is on the line. His name is Brooks."

Walter continued typing, never even looking up to acknowledge Agent Gallo's statement. "Okay. Mr. Brooks, I'm hacking into airport security. I'm gonna rotate your cameras to point at the monitors. I'll see it remotely, and I'll walk you through each step." The security camera feed of a very confused control tower staff appeared on Walter's computer.

Mr. Brooks did not seem thrilled to be speaking to an unknown hacker on the worst day of his career in air traffic control. "Who am I on with here? I am not comfortable with you hacking into anything at this airport."

Walter shrugged at the man's frustration. "Then don't make it so easy." Agent Gallo was mouthing something at him, probably something like, be normal. Walter ignored him, he enjoyed ignoring the federal agent who had caused him so much pain all those years ago. "To answer your question, my name is Walter O'Brien, and I was brought in to fix your problem since you're not capable of doing it yourself. Look behind you. Say hello to the camera, Mr. Brooks. I'm at your 10 o'clock. Our goal is to reboot your computer and land those planes. To do that, hit control-C right in between the flickers at the exact moment that I say now. Ready? Now."

The entire team could hear the beeps of the computer system rebooting. Mr. Brooks groaned in frustration. "I missed. It's too fast."

Toby smirked and Sly grinned back. Old Geezer, Toby mouthed and Sly had to clap his hand over his mouth not to laugh.

Walter had little patience for his team or the airport control tower supervisor he was currently trying to communicate with, "Moving on, you, short sleeves and tie, you in the glasses, you code, right?"

A mousy young man standing almost out of the frame of the air traffic control security cameras looked surprised to hear the voice on the speakers talking to him, "A little. How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess," Walter told him unironically. "What's your name?"

"Randy."

"Randy, take Mr. Brooks's seat."

The intern's voice quivered with fear. "You guys are talking about planes going down. I'm just an intern."

Gallo was sick of the delays, "You just got promoted. Sit down!"

Focused entirely on the task at hand, Walter spoke once again. "Mr. Brooks, can you give Randy the original installation disk to download?"

Brooks looked directly into the security camera for the first time with a look of disbelief on his face that an apparent computer genius would make such a request. "That software was installed fifteen years ago. I have no idea where it is." He shrugged. "The company went out of business."

Walter didn't need time to think, he had already worked through this scenario. There was no pause before he asked, "Where do you back up your data?

"Blackstern Data Storage," Brooks informed him.

Walter nodded, "Okay, we can get a copy of the old software from the backup server. I e-mail it to Brooks, he clicks a link, and the system is up and running as if the corrupted software was never downloaded.

"Blackstern's on Ventura. Northeast. Opposite direction of the gridlock." Sly informed him.

The team was ready to spring into action, but the SUVs still had eight flat tires. Walter tossed the keys to his Datsun to Happy as Brooks informed them of the time constraints for this plan to work, "You should know that the data is backed up to the latest software every twelve hours on the fives."

Walter grimaced, this was not good news. "So in twenty minutes, the last remaining useable software will be corrupted. Happy, Toby, get to the server and get me that backup disk."

Toby clapped his hands together in anticipation of success.

"Sylvester," Walter continued, "call the data center; tell them we're on our way." Sly dialed the number into his phone and Walter opened a new program on his laptop. "I'm gonna prep here to relay to LAX."

Gallo gestured to one of the junior agents, "Bates, go with 'em. Stay in contact."

Happy groaned, she had no interest in taking along a federal government babysitter. "This is not a request. He goes." Gallo roared.

Happy held her hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, we'll take the G-man with us. No problem."

Before the trio left the Garage, Walter put his hand out to stop Toby from walking past him, "Toby," Toby had never seen Walter look so serious, "in situations like this, carelessness, mistakes, they will haunt you. I know this from experience."

Toby refused to allow his mood to be altered by Walter. He was certain they would find a way to make this work. "Walter, I'm always on point. Have you seen my hat?"

Happy, Toby and the agent piled into Walter's tiny car, the agent grumbling about being forced to sit in the back. Happy pushed the car to its limits as it screeched through the city streets. "Walter, we're approaching the data center. We should have the backup hard drive soon."

Walter felt as if there might be a chance they could pull this thing off, "Copy that, Happy. Standing by."

Sylvester was curious about Walter's breakup with Janice, so he gathered his courage and asked Walter. "How was your afternoon at the diner, with Janice and with upgrading the diner's wifi signal?"

Walter sighed, he was still kind of frustrated over the entire episode, "I went to the diner early to meet Janice, but as I arrived, there was a sign on the door, that they had lost power and were closed until further notice. Realizing there was nothing else to be done, I messaged Janice asking her if we could meet at the hospital cafeteria. She agreed, telling me it was easier for her since she was pulling a double shift."

"Did the emotional decision tree help with the breakup fallout?" Sly had never broken up with a woman before and wondered if he should use a similar tactic if the need ever arose.

"No," Walter admitted. "If anything is made the whole situation worse. She told me that even though I try, I'm 'a million miles from normal'."

"What's wrong with that?" Sly wondered. "It would seem like a compliment to me."

"She definitely didn't mean it that way." Walter sighed. "When dealing with a human and their emotions, there are rules they follow that we geniuses not only don't understand, but we don't even know what they are."

Sly considered Walter's words for a moment before switching topics, "What about the wifi upgrade at the diner?"

Walter shrugged as if he didn't care, "I sent the owner, Nemos, an email asking him to reschedule at his earliest possible convenience. We still need that money."

Sly nodded his agreement, but before he had a chance to continue the conversation, Happy informed them that they had arrived at the data center and it was time to get serious about solving the problem of those planes.

Happy pulled the Datsun into the parking area in front of Blackstern. It was deserted and the door was locked. Toby jumped out of the car and ran to the door, pounding futilely on the metal, "No, it's supposed to be open 24/7!

"Looks like they cut out." Happy grabbed the radio. "Walt? We got a problem. No one's home."

Agent Gallo slammed his fist on the desk in frustration, "You're the mechanical engineer! Pick the lock!" he yelled.

Happy pulled out her lockpick set from her pocket, and started working on the lock as she replied, "I have my tools, but it'll take a lot longer than the six minutes we have before the bad software backs up onto the servers."

Gallo spoke into the radio again, "Bates, get them in."

Bates, who had finally extricated himself from the back seat of the Datsun, motioned to the two geniuses, "Step aside." as he drew his handgun and aimed it at the lock on the door of the data center.

"Whoa!" Toby cried.

"Are you insane?" Happy questioned as she pushed the agent's wrist, lowering the gun's muzzle, away from the door lock.

"You're the one putting hands on a Fed," Bates complained.

Happy explained impatiently, "That is 75-millimeter, six-layer polycarbonate casing. It won't break, but a round could deflect and kill somebody." Happy spoke to her boss once again, "Walt, please don't let the Fed talk anymore."

"We're down to a four percent chance of success." Sylvester moaned.

Cabe was questioning his decision to bring Walter and Team Scorpion in on this mission. "Five minutes from now, the software we need disappears forever. If that happens, twenty thousand people die."

Walter felt a cold knot form in the pit of his stomach. He was actually feeling fear, which surprised him. "We got to abandon the data center. We got to pull the team back, get four minds working together at once, and then, maybe within an hour, we'll be able…" he trailed off, unable to finish his thought out loud. He shook himself, there was still a job to do. "Happy, Toby, you guys and the agent get back here as quickly as possible. We need to think of something else." Against all logic, Happy started working frantically to get the doors to the data center open. "I can do it, Walt. Just give me a minute."

"You don't have a minute, Happy." Walter's voice crackled through the radio speaker. "I need you back at the Garage."

"Uh, I don't think she's listening to you right now, Walt," Toby informed him.

Walter hesitated for a moment. Happy wasn't going to enjoy what happened next. "Then find some way to get her to listen, Toby."

Toby gulped. "You got it, Boss." Toby tossed the keys to Walter's car to the irritated federal agent as he scooped up Happy, lock-picking tools still in her hands, and headed towards the car as well, carrying the struggling and screaming mechanical prodigy as he did so.

Gallo was losing patience, he had been so sure that Walter O'Brien could save these planes. "By then, the first two planes will be out of fuel. Do you really think you can come up with an option by then?"

Walter sighed. "It's the best chance we've got at this point."

"We lose two planes to save fifty-four. That's a trade we're gonna have to make." Gallo motioned to the agent still standing next to him, "Contact the FAA and tell them these two flights are terminal."

"Walter?" Sly cried. "What is he doing?"

Walter answered him, resigned to more blood on his hands, thanks to the federal agent. "Agent Gallo is implementing the greater good theory. Loss is acceptable as long as the resulting gain is large enough."

Sly's eyes went wide as understanding dawned. He covered his mouth with his hand to stifle a cry.

Gallo received a message on his phone. "FBI just texted." The agent just looked off into the distance. "They're out, too."

Sly did another calculation, "We're at less than one percent, Walter…" Unable to face the situation any longer, he left his desk, no longer bothering to hold back his tears.

Gallo looked Walter in the eye. "You know what I'm going to tell you."

Walter nodded in understanding, "There was a fourth team." he spoke tonelessly, defeated. "Tracking the planes via radar. Circling over the ocean… fighter jets… Same protocol was activated on 9/11 to prevent possible ground casualties."

Agent Gallo took his phone out, mentally steeling himself to make this call, but hoping against hope that the answer to this question wouldn't be one he wasn't expecting. "Can you think of anything we can do?" Walter shook his head, slowly. As Agent Gallo pressed the first number in the phone's speed dial menu, Walter leaned down toward the trash can at his feet and was violently ill. Gallo spoke into the phone, "Contact Director Merrick. Tell him we need to activate the fourth option."

That done, Agent Gallo dropped the phone back into his pocket. Walter sat up and wiped the corner of his mouth. The only sound in the Garage was the whirring of the mainframe's fans and the sounds of Sylvester's sobs.

It felt like hours had passed before Toby, Happy, and Agent Brooks returned to the Garage. Maybe it was, with the agent at the wheel, the ride back to the Garage had been at a much more sedate pace.

Gallo received periodic updates from the fourth team. Toby turned on the TV and the national news had cut into regular programming with minute-by-minute updates of the slow-motion disaster playing out in the skies above Los Angeles.

The minutes dragged painfully by, as one by one planes were removed from the skies, shot down by United States military fighter jets. Everyone in the room took turns surreptitiously wiping tears, everyone that is, except Cabe and Walter. Neither man moved, spoke, or showed any reaction at all.

Chatter from every agency in the alphabet burst from Cabe's radio every few seconds. No one knew what to do but exactly what they were doing. They just didn't want to be doing it.

Walter wondered if he might literally die from the feeling of the oppressive weight of the body count racking up on his conscience. At times he wished he could. The loss of life in those doomed planes brought on by his failure today added to the weight he already felt of the lives lost due to his creation of a guidance system that focused on speed over accuracy in dropping bombs over Baghdad.

Just as it didn't seem as if Walter could bear any more weight, a new voice squawked over the radio.

"Walter! Walter O'Brien!"

Walter picked up the radio. There was something foreign in the tone. It sounded like hope. Everyone in the Garage moved silently closer to hear the voice on the radio better.

"This is Walter O'Brien."

"I'm so glad! Mr. O'Brien this is Randy… Randy the intern at LAX."

"Of course, I remember you, Randy. Has there been some sort of development in the control tower?" Walter knew it was a foolish question, but somehow he just couldn't stop himself.

"There has, Mr. O'Brien! I couldn't just sit by and do nothing, even as everyone in the control tower gave up. I went into the old storage room and just went through every box in the room. It took time, but I found them." Randy took a breath and laughed shakily. "Mr. O'Brien, I found them, the original software installation disks. I could hardly believe it. And I found a computer tower that can read them."

Walter just sagged in relief and let the radio drop onto the desk. Randy continued, "This is why I need you, Mr. O'Brien, I need your help to help me figure out how to connect this old computer to the newer ones in the control tower."

The entire team in the Garage burst into spontaneous applause, hugging and laughing. All except Walter, he spoke quietly and clearly, talking Randy through the delicate connection process, while silent tears slid down his cheeks.

A few hours later as the final airplanes had landed and all souls aboard were once again safely on the ground, Agent Gallo rounded up his junior agents. Replacement SUVs had finally been delivered to the Garage, but at this point, it hardly mattered. "Good work today, Team Scorpion," Gallo told them as he shook their hands. "I wish we had had a more positive outcome, but saving any lives was beyond what we expected once the software backups were updated. Forty-four planes were saved. That's something, isn't it?"

Not enough. Walter didn't answer, he was still in too much pain.

"It was just an impossible task. Sometimes the impossible is just that. Impossible, no matter how much we wish it could be otherwise." Agent Gallo tried to connect with Walter one last time and failed. Turning to the rest of the team, he spoke, "Good night."

Gallo walked out of the Garage for what he knew was going to be the last time. He'd flamed out in New York and this idea of teaming up with Scorpion to become government-sponsored problem solvers had failed to get results today. In fact, hundreds of lives had been lost. He knew that tomorrow morning he'd be shown a permanent desk job until they could come up with a good enough reason to force him into early retirement, and that was if he was lucky.

Once the agents left, there didn't seem to be anything else to say, so Happy offered Toby and Sly a ride home. Walter hadn't moved from his desk or spoken since he had finished giving Randy the instructions to connect the two computers.

"Do you think this is a good idea? Leaving him like this?" Happy asked Toby as they walked past a silent Walter.

"I don't think there are any good ideas right now. But you know 197, he has his own way of processing. I'm sure he'll be fine tomorrow. Right now the best thing any of us can do is get some sleep. And give Walter time to process."

"Good night, Walt," Sly said as he walked past, joining Happy and Toby in the truck.

Walter heard the sound of the door to the Garage slamming shut and the bolt slipping into place. And then nothing. He just sat in the silence until he couldn't bear it any longer.

He was just about to go up to his loft when a notification for a new email popped up on his computer screen. Out of habit, Walter opened it. The subject line was in all capital letters along with an excessive number of exclamation points. The preview of the body of the email already showed him a number of expletives and insults. This was not the first time Walter or Scorpion had received such an email from an unhappy client.

Normally he would try to placate the sender, and after the day they had, they really needed the money. No lucrative government contracts on the horizon. But Walter just couldn't bring himself to care. People had died today and no matter how convoluted the path, at least some of the blame lay at his feet, so he found that he couldn't bring himself to care about a diner owner's temper tantrum over slow internet for customers. Walter deleted the email and Nemos' contact info from his address book without a second thought. Then he put the second worst day of his life carefully into a mental box, closed it, and locked it, intending never to look at it again.

That final task done for the night, Walter went upstairs and slipped out of his clothes, clothing he would never wear again. In fact, he would probably burn them tomorrow. He took a long, hot shower, scrubbing every inch of his body in a poor attempt at scrubbing his eidetic memory clean of every moment of each of those twelve planes being shot down by the military, of feeling completely helpless to stop it.

When the hot water ran out, Walter got out of the shower, skin red and raw. He dried off and dressed in pajama pants and a t-shirt, then slipped into his bed.

Walter was certain that he would lie awake all night, unable to stop replaying the events of the day in his mind. Instead, he quickly fell into a deep sleep. All night he dreamt of a woman he had never seen before. He dreamed of her laugh, her smile, her eyes, her kindness, her intelligence, her beauty. She soothed his soul in a way that no one in the waking world ever had.

All night long, Walter dreamed of the woman he loved.

Author's Note:

I used a good deal of dialogue from the Pilot episode in this story. The movements of the team members when they speak are not identical to the episode, and sometimes someone has a line of dialogue that was spoken by someone else in the actual episode. I am aware of this and I have done this on purpose. I am trying to show that this is an alternate reality, similar to ours. But not identical. Keep that in mind as the story progresses.