DREAMS OF DESTINY

"My interest is in the future because I am going to spend the rest of my life there." –Charles Kettering

Ten year old Walter O'Brien sits on the floor outside his sister's bedroom door, a weighty medical textbook he borrowed from the library open in his lap. He wants to be near in case she needs something. Logically he knows he could probably hear her call out from his room, which is directly across the hall, but he could get to her quicker from this position. It's more efficient.

And if he's being completely honest, the young genius is a little concerned. That's all. He's not apprehensive. Emotions like that are counter-productive and not conducive to finding solutions.

Because Megan had to leave school again today. All anyone would tell him was she 'wasn't feeling well' like he couldn't understand 'big, scary' adult words. It is frustrating to say the least, but he'd eavesdropped enough to hear some of the words anyway, in spite of the doctor and his parents trying to 'protect' him as if relaying information would damage him in some way. Gathering facts is always useful in problem solving. It is yet another glaring example of their lack of understanding. Having all the facts actually helps Walter run the odds. He is always more comfortable knowing than not knowing.

"Hey, little bro," Megan's voice sounds hoarse and slightly weak.

So he chooses not to answer for a minute wondering if sitting in the hallway has disturbed her rest after all.

"I can hear you rustling around out there, you know. Why don't you come in and sit with me a while? Maybe we can play a game or something," she continues.

Walter closes the huge tome and clutches it under one arm as he stands up. He turns and peers into the room, but only hovers in the doorway unsure if he should go in. "Mother told me not to disturb you. She says you need to rest."

Megan rolls her eyes and scoffs, "I've been resting all bloody day. I'm bored of it! What I need is some entertainment before my head explodes and you have to scrape my brains off the ceiling. You'd be doing me a favor. If we hear Mum coming up the stairs, you can hide under the bed."

Relief floods every inch of the boy as a grin plays at the corners of his mouth. He chooses not to point out the improbability of one's head exploding due to boredom because he knows exactly how annoying it is to be bored. "All right, then. I guess I can come in for a bit," He answers instead, and he practically runs to the chair beside her bed and doesn't hesitate for a second before dropping into it. He sets the book back down in his lap and rests his elbows on top contemplating his sister to see if she looks ill.

"Would you like to play chess?" He asks hopefully, knowing he can win without even trying.

Megan gives him a mock distrustful look. "Not a chance. You know I can't keep up with which pieces move which way and how many spaces. And I know you don't always tell me the rules right either. Think you're so smart. You're just a big cheater." She shakes her head at him, but not in an angry way, more like she's teasing.

And their conversation has made her smile. She's showing both of her dimples. Maybe he's cheered her up in a way. He read in the medical text positive attitudes help facilitate positive outcomes in patients. So he decides his being here isn't detrimental to her recovery.

Walter wants to keep Megan cheerful, so he asks, "Well, what would you like to play then?"

"Hand me a sheet of paper and a pen from my desk over there. I want to show you this thing I learned at school."

Oh, good. Learning. Maybe their school isn't quite as useless as he thinks.

He almost bounds over to the desk accidentally letting the book drop to the floor in his haste. It makes such a racket, they both freeze, waiting for their mother to yell up the stairs, or worse to come and check on them. But all stays quiet. She must be outside helping with the chores. Much better.

As he bends over to pick up the book, Megan asks, her eyes twinkling "What's with the massive book, Walter? You almost gave us away. Are you after doing some weight lifting? Or a little heavy reading? Get it?"

She winks at him and he huffs out a short laugh at her nonsense. But he replies, all seriousness, "I'm finding out what's wrong with you. I'm going to fix you."

"The doctors aren't even sure yet. They're running more stupid tests on Monday. I have more holes in me than Swiss cheese from where they've been poking and prodding. I feel like a lab rat! I wish you would figure it out. That would show everyone what a brilliant brother I have and maybe they'll leave me alone!"

Walter's chest fills up with… something. It's a good feeling he doesn't have very often and only ever around Megan. No one ever believes him the way she does and he's unable to prevent his ear to ear grin. "Well, I'm going to read everything I can get my hands on. I'm sure I can find the answers."

"For now I can use your book as a desk to write on. Hurry up and bring it and the pen and paper. I want to show you."

While Walter is gathering the requested items, Megan is wiggling into a sitting position pressing her back to the pillows at the headboard. She puts one hand to the side of her head and closes her eyes wincing and gritting her teeth.

Her brother is instantly upset. "Megan? Are you okay? Do I need to get Mother to call the doctor?"

She sighs and lets her hand drop. "I'm okay. I just get so dizzy when I first sit up. And the vision in my right eye is still a little blurry." She squeezes her eyes shut momentarily while Walter stands beside her bed biting his lower lip until she says, "I'm fine, little bro. I promise."

He cautiously lays the book and writing materials on her lap and she begins scribbling and folding the paper at intervals. "If I was going to do this right, I would have to use colored pencils, but I guess we'll have to write the names for the colors instead."

Walter has no idea what she's talking about. He just sits patiently waiting for her to finish. He doesn't care what the game is as long as it keeps his sister happy and feeling better.

Finally, she holds the folded paper up triumphantly between both of her index fingers and thumbs, a mischievous smirk lighting up her whole face. "We're going to find out the first initial of the person my brother is going to marry."

Walter wrinkles his nose in distaste and gives her a skeptical frown. "You learned this stupid game at school?" His initial assessment of the learning institution was spot on. He should have known.

"A friend showed me. Oh, come on! It's fun," Megan says holding the paper under his nose.

"I doubt I will ever get married, and a game on a piece of paper wouldn't be able to predict anything accurately. It's a waste of time."

Megan's hands drop back to the book in her lap. "What do you mean you aren't getting married? Sure you will."

"Not likely."

"You'll see. In another couple of years, girls are going to become a lot more interesting." She's back to gently teasing him again, her voice taking on a sing-song quality.

The young genius sighs, thinking of how to explain so his sister will drop the ridiculous subject. "Yes. I know all about puberty and developing a sex drive. That's in the medical textbooks too, you know. I'm saying no one will want to be with me permanently. You are the only person who really likes me. I'm too different from normal people and the chances of even running into someone like me are infinitesimal. Let alone finding someone who could tolerate living with me."

The smile drops from Megan's face and she puts her paper contraption down to cover one of his hands with hers. "Who says your wife has to be like you? She could be like me. Smart in her own way, but not a genius. Someone who could teach you about love and acceptance. You'll see. Her kiss will tell you if she's the right one."

Walter folds his arms in front of him and shakes his head. Romantic love is for fairy tales. The idea someone could be effected in some meaningful way by a kiss or touch is junk science. Not even that. Besides, people don't like him. Period. He is tired of discussing it. So, he simply states, "I don't want to play. It's dumb."

But he notices Megan's face appears stricken and sad. Now he's made her feel worse. What a great brother he is. Reluctantly and grudgingly, he says, "Okay, okay. Fine."

His sister instantly brightens and once again positions her silly 'predictor' on her fingers and asks him to pick his favorite color. Feeling uncooperative, he says, "I don't have a favorite. Colors are useful for classification, warnings and camouflage. Nothing more."

Megan snorts. "Everything in your room is blue and half of everything you wear. We'll go with blue then. B-L-U-E." She moves her fingers so the paper square folds and unfolds with each letter. Then she shows him the inside. "Now, pick a number."

He vaguely points to the number twelve and she proceeds to open and shut the device twelve times, shows him the open space again and asks him to choose one more time. Walter taps somewhere in the vicinity of the middle of two flaps. Megan frowns and looks underneath the first flap.

He lets out a burst of humorless laughter. "My wife's name is going to start with 'Q'? Really?" He laughs some more. "That's the least used letter in the English alphabet. Who am I supposed to marry then? Queen Elizabeth?"

Megan's chin sets stubbornly and she lifts the flap next to the 'Q', the other one he could have been tapping. "It's 'P'. See? That's a nice strong start to a name. I think I like her already…"

OXOXOXOXOXO

Walter woke up instantly remembering every detail of his very vivid dream. He hadn't thought of that game in such a long time. Megan had always been able to coax him into doing things he wouldn't normally do. That incident had been no exception. For years afterwards, she'd joked with him about finding the illusive 'Miss P'.

Paige mumbled something in her sleep and snuggled closer against his side.

And he was suddenly inundated with a sense of rightness. Of home.

Of course a childhood game couldn't predict this outcome. Of course a stupid folded piece of paper couldn't tell the future. Except it had in its own little way.

After all the confusion and doubt Mark Collins sewed between the new couple, he felt a strange sense of peace.

Hours before, the two of them hadn't reached any kind of solid resolution by discussing their thoughts. But when she started kissing him, he was very sure being together was the right choice. There really was no other choice.

He belonged with her.

Her kisses did tell him so.

AN: I have an idea to do another chapter from Paige's childhood and ultimate POV. Let me know if you'd like me to write that one too.