Work Text:
I
“Now I know how weak you are.” His voice rings in her head, and although Broyles does his best to subside her doubt, the words haunt her.
She views her empathy as a strength, or she had, before John, before Charlie, before the last year of her life changed all meaning to what was and is. She cares for Walter, that's why she did it because Walter is the key to so many locked doors. because he would do the same to save her Because Peter asked her to. it's that last one, Peter’s cries to help, he didn't want to lose his dad again. Olivia understands that part more than most, a pang of longing in her heart as she watched father and son embrace. Her mom always made her feel safe, and despite only a few memories of her biological father, so had he.
But now sitting alone at home she thinks of that words, weakness. A trait many men have tried to attribute to her. Walter called her strong, and so had William Bell. She takes a shot of whiskey at the memory. Her strength didn't save Charlie, it didn’t save John, and it can’t save her from the nightmares.
Peter.
He always says the right thing, his eyes sincere as he thanked her for saving Walter flashes in her mind. Peter who calls to check in on days they aren't working a case, Peter who knows when she doesn’t want to talk but somehow sees right through her... She sees him too, how he tried so hard to assume the persona of a con man, gruff, with no weakness… there's that word again and that feeling again, that Peter and she are alike in so many ways. That they see the other and know the other's pattern as if it were always meant to know.
She never felt that with John, he didn’t know the extent of the truth about her stepfather or that she is scared that Rachel will fall into the path their mother did. So why after only a few months did Peter know? She loved John, loved that he said all the right things, and loved her. John never called her weak, he never made her feel small, and she wouldn't have let him if he tried, but she always felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for something to go wrong, she fought like hell when it did, but it didn't save him.
Peter.
Bringing her coffee, making sure she eats, joking with her niece about Olivia’s fear of roller coasters.
Peter didn’t make her feel weak, or strong, or like she couldn’t be both.
She takes another shot of whiskey, burning her throat and letting her vision blur. It's enough, she knows that much. She wasn’t weak today, she saved Walter because he is important, she saved him because Peter asked, and he needed her… it doesn't feel like a weakness, to be needed by him but it scares her nonetheless.
II
Normalcy, the concept rattles in her brain as she tries to sleep. The people of Edina didn't want to be treated like some freak show, that's why they did all they had to do to hide. She knows it's outlandish to compare Edina to her own feelings of being different, but she can’t help it.
Peter.
Again making her feel seen, making her laugh at the reality of them both being weird. He got it, he always does. With his consistent jokes about her being a little weird, she can feel his affection when he looks at her with that teasing grin, it makes her heart beat loud in her ears.
He was brave for his dad again, Olivia could see the hurt Peter was feeling. He didn’t want to shoot that man, he didn’t want to hurt anyone. It occurs to her he is probably getting just as little sleep as she is and she wonders if he would answer on the first ring if she called he would. He didn’t want to talk about it, and she understood. She’d done all she could to make sure he knew she was there for him, just as he'd been there for her. It seemed more prevalent these days, the way they volleyball checking in on each other.
Normalcy, as defined by the people outside the Fringe division, or normalcy, defined by the people within it. Peter brings her the salt and vinegar chips she likes, she invites him to get out of the lab to the field. They have a routine, he knows her coffee order, and she knows he likes to listen to 80’s pop music in the mornings. He calls if something gross is on the autopsy table to warn her, and she tells him when Ella is coming to visit so he can come to play Uno with her. Their routine, its her new normal. Bradley from high school may look at her like she has a third eye, Rachel may be concerned when she's sleep deprived and stressed from a case. But Peter looks at her and it feels like normal, feels like home.
III
She almost lost him, she almost lost him, and it's all too much. The shower steam fills her lungs and she lets the water beat down on her tired body. Peter is home, he's safe, but she almost lost him and she feels like she may break.
“I thought that was the point of having people who care about you? To have someone to talk to when you're scared.” his words like a premonition, moments later to be met with fear, deep, unknown fear. He was right of course, she didn't want to call Rachel to protect her and she was scared but afraid to admit it. And then he was the one in danger, she had composed herself, hands pressed to her lips, repeated a mantra of “it's going to be okay” in her head. He had to be okay, it was Peter.
Peter, he wasn’t allowed to die, Walter needed him… she needed him.
There was a moment for her, a moment of relief when he switched the swab, they were safe, they would walk out of the building and be okay, she'd ask if he wanted to get a drink because he was always offering, and this time she would. But it wasn’t and he wasn’t and for a second time, she was hit with the realization she might lose him.
Going back in was a risk, a risk she would take time and time again for him, just as he would for her. Walter had stayed, Astrid had stayed, and Olivia knew she would have too if they hadn’t been separated. The ties she’d bound with the Bishops left her in shock sometimes, like all the grey in the world flooding black and white. Newton’s words come back, the Bishop’s are her weakness, and her feelings for them, vastly different, and complicated. Maybe it isn’t a weakness, but tied to what Peter had said, it's just how it is when you care for people. Her mind goes from moment to moment over the last 20 hours, unable to concentrate on a single thought.
Olivia squeezes her eyes shut, tapping her head against the shower tiles. She can’t get the images out of her head, Peter angry and with her gun, yelling that she betrayed him. He wasn’t in his right mind, she knows that, but his words and actions echo in her mind. Doesn't he know I would never betray him? Doesn’t he see I came back for him?
He does, after the fact, in the recovery room.
Lucky for me you were.
When it's just them she places a hand over his, and his eyes twinkle with confused joy.
“I just.” she stops herself. “I’m really glad you are okay.”
He smiles at her weakly
“I was… I was really… worried.” She admits,
His eyes flutter, fingers tighten around hers. “I'm okay,” he whispers before falling asleep.
She watches him, the calm in his face, the way his chest rises and falls, his hand warm against hers.
She's not ready to fully accept it, all the emotions she feels, it's too much, and her shower is growing cold. She pulls herself out, finding herself heavy with a fear she can not shake.
IV
She hated it, to be honest, the way he gave her butterflies with that smile. You look lovely Agent Dunham . It’s not like he never complimented her, he does, often. And the way he mentions at least once a week something about her gun or that she's giving him a look. How does he know me so well? How can he tell I'm worried about Ella or thinking about Charlie or simply just need caffeine? He sees her, it comes back to that, and she hates it… and she loves it.
She sees him again too, the remorse he feels for selling Walter’s books, the truth behind why he did it. She doesn’t blame him for it, the anger, it’s similar to her own. She watches him try and try to make it right, that's the thing about him he is good, no matter how much has happened to him, he is kind and she thinks, another reason they get each other so well.
She takes Walter's words in nothing I wouldn’t do for family. They were never going to prosecute him, he didn’t have to clarify. Walter would do anything for Peter. Olivia would do anything for Rachel. Peter would do anything for Oliva… she would do anything for him.
V
52 hours ago she called him in the middle of the night, his voice sleepy and hers light as they bantered about the trip to new york. 52 hours ago she was just Olivia, who didn’t remember the pain and trauma of her time in Jacksonville, 52 hours ago Peter hadn’t almost kissed her, and she hadn’t almost let him.
He protected her, immediately and profusely. He stood his ground to keep safe.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked as their plane took off, “Because I can get the pilot to turn this plane around.”
“I’m sure.” She wasn’t sure, not even the slightest, shed done her best to repress the sheer idea that Walter had experimented on her and the ramifications of what that meant.
It made her feel sick, walking into rooms filled with children's toys and dust, it wasn’t okay what happened in those rooms, what happened to her and her schoolmates. Every time she looked at Peter she could see he felt the same, that anger he holds for his father flaring. He was watching her as she traced her eyes over playing cards and dolls, she knew he wanted to put a stop to it like all those times she willingly got into the tank, he wanted to stop the pain before it could hurt worse.
He sought her out, more than once, first at the swings. Making sure she knew she wasn’t alone by just being there. His presence in her life over the last year had grown from co-worker to friend, from acquaintance to confidant.
He finds her the second time, feeling like a child trapped in a nightmare, she isn't alright, none of it is alright. Walter is correct though, her anger outweighs her fear. She is angry about what happened to her, she is angry that she can’t seem to stop it and angry at the past and the unforeseeable future.
The flight back to New York is filled with silence, but she can feel his eyes on her again, watching just in case she needs him.
When Olivia seeks Peter out, she is ready to admit it, she's scared, because it's not fair that she is the one who has to figure this out, it's not fair that it's all on her shoulders and that her childhood self had to endure this pain. His touch on her cheek electrifies her entire body, both grounding her and making her feel weightless. She can tell him the truth, he's the only one she feels safe to break in front of, “I’m scared.” she admits, “Don’t be.” when his eyes flicker to her lips she knows, she knows that if he kisses her it will be soft and sweet and take away the pain for a few beautiful moments, but then the realization hits, she's scared, she can see what needs to be seen.
Hours pass before she sees him again, and when their eyes meet they both smile, she did it, they did it.
“Hey.” she approaches him.
“Hey.”
“So. I know we've both been up for two days but, I could really use a drink.”
“Oh yeah?” he chuckles
“Yea…”
“I could go for a drink.”
“Great, I have to debrief with Broyles and then go home, but tonight? 9 pm? I can come to pick you up… we can pretend to be normal.” He laughs, that laugh that makes her heart beat faster. “Sure. see you tonight,” he answers.
52 hours ago she called him in the middle of the night. 35 hours ago he stood up to protect her. 24 hours ago he checked in on her to make sure she was alright. 8 hours ago he put his hand on her cheek and reassured her it would all be okay, attempting to seal it with a kiss. If universes weren't merging, if people weren’t waiting on her, if lives hadn't needed saving she would have kissed him, she knows it to be true, she would have kissed him and it terrifies her more than she can take. Heightened emotion, anger… fear… love. She can see how they are all woven together now.
She takes a shower and changes her clothing, a leather jacket, and a pair of jeans. They've gotten a dozen drinks together but this feels different, she checks the mirror one last time, she's scared, but it's the good kind, the kind wrapped up in dizzying happiness she hasn't felt in ages, she takes her hair out, giving it a shake, she's terrified, and it feels so good.