Author's Note:

This chapter may be difficult to read. As faithful fans of Scorpion, we know that Walter always had a contentious relationship with his parents, particularly his father. This story ramps the conflict between Walter and Sean up several notches. Trigger Warning: This chapter has a scene where Sean uses his belt to punish Walter when he has angered him. The portrayal is not particularly graphic, but please be warned. I don't do this gratuitously, but to lay the foundation for understanding future moments in the story, portraying the difficulty of the relationship with Walter and his parents and their attitudes toward him. For readers who do not want to read the actual depiction of the scene, I am italicizing the text of those four paragraphs to bracket them off to make them easier to skip.

Walter lay awake in bed as Paige finally drifted off into a restless sleep next to him. She had been so worried about him but he couldn't bring himself to tell her what she wanted to know; he could barely admit it to himself. He lay there in the dark listening to the sound of her breathing and let his memory take him back to the last time he'd heard that name, Aveline. The last time he'd thought of her, the final time he'd tried to be the son his parents had always wanted.

Summer 1992

Walter O'Brien knew something about minutes that stretched on forever and hours that felt as if they would never end, having sat through Mr. Creevy's maths class all year, reluctantly holding his tongue more often than he would like at something or other the man had said that was imprecise or just plain incorrect. But all of that was nothing compared to the morning Walter woke to an uncharacteristically quiet house.

There was no sound of his mother making breakfast, his father chopping wood outside the back door or Megan complaining about waking up early for school. Not a single familiar sound of home. The only sound he could hear was an unfamiliar one. Walter followed it down the hall toward his sister's room. He pushed open the door and found the source. It was his mother crying. His mother never cried. Walter felt a knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

He looked into the room and saw his mother seated by his sister's bed, sobbing. Megan lying on the bed, her eyes huge, struggling for each breath.

"Megan!" Walter cried, running to her bed as if he would throw himself on the bed with her.

Before he could reach her, his mother stood and intercepted him. "No. You can't touch her. We don't know what's wrong with her yet. Your father's gone for the doctor. Until he comes, until we know more, you must keep your distance. I can't have you getting sick too."

That made no sense to Walter. How could his mother sit at Megan's bedside and not worry about getting sick herself? How could she be concerned that even short exposure could cause him to become ill as well? It made no sense! Walter wanted to argue with his mother, as he usually did, but something in her eyes made his gut twist harder in fear. He had never seen his ever-competent mother so undone, so afraid.

Megan's eyes followed Walter as he turned to walk from the room. "Mam," Megan wheezed.

Louise turned her attention back to her daughter. "I want him here. Please, Mam."

Walter looked at his mother hopefully. "I promise not to catch her illness."

His mother looked unimpressed at his words, but then she looked over at Megan and her gaze softened. "Fine. You may sit with her until your father and the doctor come. Do not get her over excited," she commanded.

Pleased not to be banished from the room, Walter pulled another chair close to the bed and sat down. Louise returned to her seat as well, wiping away tears tiredly as Megan's breathing settled for a few moments. She dipped a cloth in a nearby basin of cool water and placed it gently on Megan's forehead, hoping to bring the fever down, even if only a little, before the doctor arrived.

Walter sat stiffly in the chair, not sure what to do now that he was here. Megan opened her eyes and without hesitation, reached out her hand, grabbing Walter's. On instinct, he tried to jerk it away, but Megan held tight, her eyes boring into his. Walter felt the familiar pressure of his sister's hand around his. Megan was constantly trying to touch him, hug him, comfort him. He took a deep breath as the familiar feeling of wanting to crawl out of his skin at another human being's touch started to abate and he found himself grasping her hand as well.

The three of them sat like that, the only break in the silence was the occasional sound of Megan's wheezing and his mother's quiet sobs. After an eternity of waiting, his father returned with the village doctor. Before he would even examine Megan, he shooed Walter out of the room. Once the man was satisfied that Walter was no longer underfoot, he leaned over and placed his stethoscope on Megan's chest.

Walter refused to truly leave Megan and stood in the doorway watching until his father came over and shut the door firmly in his face. The message was clear: Walter was not welcome. There wasn't anything new about that. Walter knew that he was supposed to be in school today, but if his parents had forgotten that fact, he had no intention of reminding them. Grateful for the reprieve, he walked to his room and soon was lost in his thoughts, wondering if he could find a way to cure his sister of whatever it was that ailed her.

For the rest of the summer, every moment that Walter wasn't required to be in school or helping his father with farm chores, he was out exploring every square foot of the farm. He stopped even trying to pretend he was doing homework. He stopped eating meals with his family. He wanted to be in his room studying, learning as much as he could about why Megan was sick, and how to help her but he just couldn't stand to be indoors more than absolutely necessary. He needed to be outside, away from the constraints of four walls and a roof. No building felt large enough to hold all of his fear, his worry, his pain at witnessing Megan's suffering.

So he walked. He explored. He even spent his nights in the loft of the barn with a partially finished roof when he could convince his mother to let him do so. When Walter could bring himself to come inside, he would bring Megan the books he had begged, borrowed, or stolen for her, anything to try to keep her occupied and entertained. But never again did he sit in the room with her the way he did that first morning.

Late one night several weeks after Megan had first fallen ill, Walter was passing the time inside an old shed in a remote corner of the property. He wasn't sure if anyone else even knew it was there. It was raining heavily and he didn't relish getting drenched so he stayed under the cover of the roof despite how deeply uncomfortable it made him.

He walked around the interior perimeter of the building, running his hands along each joint, mentally measuring its dimensions. Unexpectedly, his fingernails scraped against something that wasn't quite the right texture. He stopped and ran his hand over the odd patch of wall once again. Something was definitely out of place, so Walter slipped the knife he always carried from his pocket and scraped at the blemish on the wall, near the floor. He realized it was a board that didn't quite fit. It was something that had been pushed in with some force. Carefully he leveraged the blade of the knife until the board wiggled loose and he could move it aside. Walter reached into the dark space that he had just created and after a moment of blindly searching in the crevice, his fingers curled around something wrapped in oilcloth. Walter pulled the object out and unwrapped it. In his hands was an old book, a journal. Walter brushed some dirt that had fallen on it, then opened the cover which moved stiffly as if it didn't want to be disturbed.

Walter moved into the glow of the lantern hanging from the eaves and saw the name written on the first page. He almost dropped it in surprise. Aveline O'Brien.

The name set his teeth on edge. It was familiar, of course. It was his great-grandmother's name, his Granny, the one who taught Megan the bedtime stories she always insisted on telling him before she had become so ill. He didn't know why, but he always had that reaction to anything about the woman. He wanted nothing to do with the book, but he knew that Megan would enjoy it. Walter felt a stirring in his chest, a glimmer of happiness, to be able to give his sister something like this, something that might take her mind off of her misery for a little while.

Walter rushed into the house, knowing Megan rarely slept through the night anymore, despite her slowly improving health. He intended to take the book to Megan's room to give it to her. But for some reason, his feet didn't obey him. Instead, he crept past her room, hoping she wasn't awake after all. He took the book into his room and placed it on his desk. He flipped on the small desk light, then sat down in the chair and stared at that name. He didn't know how long he sat there lost in thought when he heard a noise in the doorway. Hoping it wasn't one of his parents, Walter stood up, shoving the book underneath a pile of old schoolwork.

Megan shuffled from the doorway, heading directly for whatever he was hiding. "What did you find, little brother?" she asked in a weak voice, so unlike her true one.

Reluctantly, he pulled the book out and placed it on the desk so she could see the name written on the first page. "It looks like Granny's journal."

Megan's eyes focused on the name. She grabbed the book before Walter could even react. "Where did you find it? Did you read it? What did it say?"

Walter just shook his head, speechless at Megan's reaction. He wasn't sure what was happening. Megan seemed almost angry with him. He was well acquainted with anger. It was the reaction his father had to almost everything Walter did or said. This wasn't anger. It was close, but not quite the same. "Megan…" Walter started.

"You haven't answered my questions. Where did you find this? Did you read it? Tell me!"

The book had upset Megan, Walter reached for it, to take it away, take it out of her sight, but when he did, she held it more tightly, pulling it to her chest. "No. It's mine now. I'm keeping it. It's not yours. I don't care if you found it, it belongs to me. You don't even remember, why would you even want it?"

Megan was acting so strangely. He had planned to give it to her, she didn't need to take it from him. Walter was confused by her reaction; he thought she would be pleased by the book. Walter's eyes flickered to the door, he hoped the commotion Megan was making wouldn't draw their parents' attention. "It's for you," he told her. "I didn't read any of it, just the first page with her name on it." Megan relaxed slightly at his words. "I know you like the stories of her life that she told you when we were young. When I saw that it was her journal, I thought you might like to know more about her than those old bedtime stories. I'm not interested in the ramblings of an old woman." Even as he said those words, he knew they weren't true. Normally he wouldn't be interested in such a thing, but Megan's surprising reaction to the journal had piqued his curiosity and he longed to know what was in it.

Megan surprised him once again relaxing, smiling at him the way she did before she had taken ill. She looked so much like her old self for a moment that Walter felt hope for the first time in weeks. If this journal would bring back the old Megan he would gladly give her the thing without a second thought. "Is it all right if I take it back to my room?" she whispered as if remembering for the first time that it was the middle of the night and she was supposed to be asleep in bed.

"Of course, Megan. It's yours."

Megan gave him a brief one-armed hug. The other arm still holding the journal tightly. "Thank you, Walter. I'm sure I'll enjoy reading it, later. I'm feeling a bit tired right now. But I will take it back with me to my room." Megan smiled at him once again and walked slowly out of his room. Walter simply watched her leave, confused by both his strange reaction to Granny's journal and Megan's even stranger one.

Ever since Walter had found the journal for Megan, he no longer felt the need to be outside. Megan's health was slowly returning and the world felt as if it had righted itself. Still, Walter was concerned that no one had any real answers about Megan's illness. He worried that her health could be taken from her at time. He refused to be blindsided again, so he was spending every hour he could in his room, studying medical and scientific texts, determined to find the cause of her illness as well as a cure.

For the next few weeks, every time Walter walked past her room, Megan was pouring over the journal. She neglected every other book Walter had brought for her. New books piled up on the corner of her desk, her bedside table, even the floor, all untouched. That was fine with Walter, if the life of their great-grandmother was so interesting to her, perhaps she would share some of her interest with him and he might learn why it fascinated her so, but every time Megan noticed Walter looking at her and the journal, she slammed it shut and slid in under her pillow. If Walter walked into the room, she feigned tiredness. She never let him get a look at the book again.

Walter hated being shut out of Megan's life like this. She was the only person who even tried to understand him. Now he wasn't allowed to see this part of her? Walter stewed over the situation for several days before making his decision. He couldn't stand that stupid book monopolizing all of Megan's time and attention and he intended to do something about it.

He did something that he hadn't done in years, he approached his father and spoke to him, intentionally.

Sean was out in a far field, repairing a fence. He looked up when his son approached. "What is it, Walter? I don't have any time for any of your usual nonsense."

Walter felt the familiar constriction in his chest at his father's words. He wondered briefly if anyone else's father spoke to them like this or if other fathers showed concern and kindness toward their sons. He knew his father never spoke to Megan this way. Am I really as useless as my father seems to believe? Walter felt his father's irritation growing at he stood there. He finally managed to push past the stray thoughts. He had come to speak to his father for a reason, to get Megan to pay attention to him again, to stop obsessing over that ridiculous book.

Megan's health had nearly returned and Walter had looked forward to spending time again with the sister who laughed and joked with him. The one who made him feel loved and cared for, despite how often he complained about her attentions. But none of that had happened. Instead, she remained consumed by the journal and he was tired of it.

"Father, I have come to speak with you about Megan, about how strangely she is acting, even though she is healthier day by day. I fear it's my fault. I found Granny's old journal hidden in the wall of an old shed. I thought it would entertain her while she recovered, but now I see that I was wrong." Walter nearly choked over the word, admitting he made a mistake never came easily. "She spends every waking moment reading it. She doesn't sleep at night, because she is reading it. She barely eats and neglects her schoolwork. When Mother thinks that she is taking her daily walk about the garden, she brings the book outside with her and reads it instead of walking. I believe that her actions with the journal are impeding her recovery."

Walter watched nervously as anger rose in his father's eyes. Sean considered Walter's words for a moment before dropping his tools and storming toward the farmhouse, Walter following close behind.

"You," Sean spat over his shoulder, "You, I will deal with later."

Walter gulped and nodded. He knew that this was a likely possibility, any mention of Granny angered his father, but he would take his father's wrath gladly to get that book away from her, to get Megan back.

They entered the house through the kitchen, where Sean pushed past a startled Louise. He burst into Megan's room, Walter and his mother close behind. Megan scrambled to push the journal under her pillow, but before she could, her father grabbed her wrist with one hand and wrapped the other around the leatherbound book.

"Da!" Megan screamed, fear rising in her voice and Walter felt a painful twist in his gut at the sound. Sean had never turned his anger on Megan before. Even Walter could see she was frightened by the look in her father's eyes. Sean pulled the book away from her reaching hands and Louise hurried to Megan, wrapping her arms around her daughter. Megan began to cry, "Please, Da, don't. It's mine!"

"Not any longer!" Sean raged. He opened the book and saw Aveline's name on the first page. He slammed it closed. "That woman was nothing but trouble in life and I thought that we were well rid of her, but now here she is, still causing trouble even in death." Sean looked up and saw Walter in the doorway. "It's always been that way with the two of you."

Walter blanched, not understanding how anything his dead great-grandmother could have done would have anything to do with him. If he hadn't been so focused on Sean, he would have seen Megan go white as a sheet at her father's angry words and push away from her mother.

Sean stormed out of the room, the journal tucked under his arm, Walter followed close on his heels. As soon as Sean reached the kitchen he pulled open the wood-burning stove that heated the small farmhouse and shoved the journal inside. Walter watched in horror as Sean stoked the stove, building up the flames that quickly consumed the book.

Walter could hear Megan crying from down the hall and he felt his stomach turn. He wondered if he would be sick right here on the kitchen floor. He hadn't imagined the scene would be this awful. He had only been thinking of his father taking the book away from Megan, not how she would react, not that he would do this.

Once Sean was satisfied that the book was truly burned beyond recovery, he turned his attention back to Walter. "You gave that book to your sister?" Walter nodded. Sean grabbed him roughly by the neck and pulled him out the door.

Walter knew where they were going. His father pushed him past his mother's garden toward a small clearing that was not easily seen from the house. Sean complained bitterly about Aveline the entire way. "She brought only trouble and sorrow to my Da. It was because of her that he worked himself into an early grave, trying to care for her. She the ever ungrateful, aristocratic English bitch that she was, bewitching his father, Patrick, to take her for his wife instead of a fine Irish woman."

Walter saw the anger in his father's eyes and resigned himself to a thrashing that would likely be the most painful one he had ever endured. Sean removed his belt and gestured for Walter to put his hands on both sides of the fortuitously placed forked trunk of a small tree to brace himself for what was coming. Walter used the branches to hold himself upright as his father began wielding his belt, bringing it down again and again on the tense flesh of Walter's back. Walter wished that the whistling of the leather flying through the air and his own shouts of pain were louder. Even this far from the house, he could still easily hear the sound of Megan crying.

Walter didn't know how much time had passed. He had stopped counting the length of his punishments years ago. But eventually, the sound of the belt stopped. He stood unmoving, still holding onto the tree to stay upright. He heard his father replace his belt and walk back to the house and still Walter stood motionless. The sun moved across the sky and a chill began to settle into the air.

At long last, Walter felt ready to release the tree, he tested the muscles in his back, moving and stretching them painfully. Everything still seemed to be in working order. Satisfied that he wasn't permanently damaged, he slowly made the short walk back to the house. His parents both sat at the table eating dinner as if nothing was amiss. They ignored him as he walked through the kitchen and Walter returned the sentiment. He had intended to return to his room, but his feet stopped outside of Megan's door.

Soft sobs still emanated from the room and he entered without knocking. "I told him about the journal. I'm sorry, Megan." Walter whispered, his own cheeks still wet with the tears he hadn't even noticed falling.

Megan turned red-rimmed eyes to her little brother. "Sometimes for someone who says they're so smart, you're awfully stupid. I know you told him and I don't blame you. You didn't mean for him to do that. You didn't know how angry that name would make him. How could you?" She paused before continuing. "But I am still too angry to look at you right now. I just can't… not tonight, Walter, not tonight. I'm tired." Megan turned her back to him as she rolled over in bed.

Walter felt the sting of Megan's words and it was more painful than his earlier encounter with his father's belt. He walked silently to his room where he lay in the middle of the floor, relishing the sting of his painfully bruised skin pressed against the hard wood. He deserved every ounce of suffering he felt.

After a time, he heard his father's heavy tread move toward Megan's door. Sean tried to apologize to her but she refused to speak to him, to even look at him. He just stood there helplessly in the doorway until Louise led him away. "You can try again tomorrow, she just needs some time."

Walter listened as they walked past his room and into their own and closed the door, neither one even raising the possibility of speaking to their heartbroken son. He heard Megan's occasional quiet sobs as the night wore on and still, he didn't move from his place on the floor. Walter knew that he was the cause of Megan's unhappiness. He had told his father about the journal. He felt jealousy over her interest in the journal. When Megan got sick he felt like he was losing his only friend in the world and when she paid more attention to an inanimate object than to him, he couldn't bear to share her. His emotional reaction had hurt Megan. The one person he never wanted to hurt.

Walter saw himself clearly for the first time. He was just like her. He was just like his great-grandmother, Aveline. He was born to be nothing but trouble for his family. He had only ever known how to bring pain to those he loved the most, like Megan. As hard as he tried, he would never be able to escape who he was born to be, flawed and broken.

He slipped silently into the sitting room where the computer sat on a large wooden table and turned the machine on. His father's instructions had been quite specific in what Walter was and was not allowed to do with the device. Though there were many more interesting things to do, Walter had always obeyed his father's rules, yearning to earn even a sliver of his father's approval. He had always obeyed the rules until now, until tonight, until he realized that his father's approval was something he would never have. He was too much like Aveline, too damaged, too useless.

Shoving such sentimental nonsense aside, Walter's fingers flew over the keyboard as he typed and he smiled to himself, feeling as if he were coming home for the very first time. Walter created a new screen name and began his new life as a hacker, known only as Scorpion.

Author's Note:

In my opinion, the exact chronology of Walter's early life is open to interpretation. We saw bits of Walter's early life in the first few episodes of the first season: the O'Brien farm being raided by the US military, Walter's run-in with Mr. Creevy, Megan's illness, etc. We, the viewers, don't know exactly what order those events happened, only that they were early on in Walter's life, that he flashed back to them during season 1 episodes, and that they played by the same two young actors. I used that idea to possibly change around some of those early moments in service to this story. I hope this doesn't take away too much from your enjoyment of it.