His Fault

Hi, just a little one shot I came up with whilst I should have been doing work, It's kinda depressing so be prepared, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own scorpion, CBS does

He sat in the car, without his hat, without his friends, without his family. He didn't even have his phone on him, he wouldn't put it past Walter to track it. He knew they thought he was in a dingy alley, squandering his pay-check at cards, riling up the other participants until they snapped and he ended up fleeing for his life. Normally? Yes, but not tonight. They had no idea why the day was important to him, they didn't even know it meant anything. He'd worked hard to keep it that way, because Heaven forbid the shrink had his own problems, his own trauma from the dark days before Scorpion, before his mother was diagnosed with bipolar, back to when he was six years old and she was pregnant with a younger sibling for him. The young Tobias was excited about the prospect of having someone to spend time with. His parents were boring, it was all "go and play quietly Tobias, mummy's got a headache" and "sorry son, can you go play in your room, I'm trying to watch the racing, if Daddy's been clever then you might get that book you wanted" A sibling would give him someone to talk to, someone to play with. He waited months for the baby to be born, endured the months of being invisible when everyone cooed at the giggling bundle of joy. He waited years for his little sister to be old enough to crawl and play. When little Sarah Curtis was 3, Toby was the happiest he'd ever been, His mother's headaches reduced in frequency, his father was out of the house more; which was good, it meant less shouting, and he had someone he could be himself around. Little Sarah adored him when they were growing up, he'd read to her, play dress up and drink "tea" with her. Even changing her nappy and bathing her when their parents forgot. It was a pity they hadn't spoken in a long long while, but now, he felt, was the right time to go and see her…

Stepping out of the car, he picked up the flowers from the back seat, he wasn't prepared and didn't have much cash on him so they were cheap ones from a petrol station; they were however, bright pink, and that was really all that mattered, she was still a child to him and that was, and always would be, her favourite colour. He pushed open the low black gate, it had been painted since he'd last come, and stepped onto the path. Trees provided dappled shade as he walked the route he'd never forget, flowers in various states of decay stretched out in rows either side of him as he reached a secluded spot surrounded by a hedge, their parents thought it best that she was kept separate from everyone, nobody understood why, nobody agreed with her, but when she was in one of her moods, you didn't say no. He sat down beside her and placed the flowers down in front of the moss covered slab of stone. He had no jug or vase to keep them upright, no water to prolong their life, they'd die quickly he supposed, in a grim twisted sort of way it was fitting for the situation.

"Happy Birthday sis" he muttered quietly, societal conventions dictated that he should be crying, asking the sky "Why did you have to take her so young?" arms flung out in despair. But that's not how Toby felt, he felt wretched with sadness, but his overriding feeling was anger. He was angry at himself, logically he knew it wasn't his fault, but he still felt responsible, and that made him angry, and that anger never left him, it was always there; but now, sat by her grave, a bubbling torrent of disgust was aimed at his parents. Yes, he felt deep down that it was his overriding lack of judgement that killed her, but he wouldn't have been in that situation if their parents hadn't left them alone that night.

Their mother walked out for her hospital appointment; confident in the knowledge that they'd be fed at 6, in bed by 7, herself to be home at half past. But, their father, who forgetting that he had kids, turned off all the lights and left to go to the pub. The ten year old Toby was left to care for a four year old, alone, at night. Falling asleep wasn't his fault, Sarah couldn't sleep the night before and he'd spent nearly four hours telling her fairy stories, he was exhausted, so when Sarah had gone into the bathroom, he had every intention of going with her to make sure she washed her hands, but he had a moment of self indulgence and lay down on the floor and was asleep in seconds.

That's where he woke, many hours later to the sound of hysterical screaming, he assumed it was Sarah but as he couldn't see her in the room so he wandered into the hallway, to glance into the bathroom and see his beloved sister lying motionless on the floor, water everywhere, some tinged red. The paramedic said she'd slipped off the step stool when she was washing her hands, an accident, couldn't have been prevented, she said. His parents didn't agree.

The dew from the grass had soaked his jeans by the time he'd let go of the anger, as much as he could anyway, and thought about leaving, Toby had spent years imagining what life would have been like if she was still with him. Her first day of high school, not being scared because she knew her big brother had told some of his younger friends to look out for her. Her teenage years, asking him advice about boys, after all, her big brother had a PhD in Clinical psychology. That cut close to home after Ralph asked him for relationship advice just the other week. He loved that kid, and whilst Walter saw him as a son, Toby saw him as a younger brother, and that realisation made him smile a little. He was a big brother after all.

I'd love to know what you think x