An Ever-Fixed Mark

Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken…

William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

Astrid Farnsworth never asked for any of this. As a young recruit at Quantico, she had visions of rising through the ranks, doing amazing things, and perhaps even becoming the first woman of color to be named FBI Director.

Those visions seemed so dim to her now, as she swept up amber chips and cookie crumbs from the lab floor. Walter was sleeping off the effects of his latest marijuana binge; how and where he managed to find a never-ending stash of weed, when they were all in hiding, was a mystery to her… one she had no desire to solve.

Peter and Olivia were out scavenging for supplies, Peter being the more adept of the two at the art of procurement. What seemed like a lifetime ago, Astrid had called Peter the best dog-robber she'd ever met, earning a quizzical look from his lookalike daughter.

Etta… Astrid sighed, feeling the familiar pang in her chest. They all had so little time with her… "Oh, Sweetie-pie," she whispered sadly, using her pet name for the girl.

"Hey," a soft voice said behind her.

She turned to face Peter. "Hey," she said, a bit embarrassed. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I think about her all the time, too." Peter shrugged out of his jacket, draping it over one of the lab chairs. "She loved you to pieces. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, the feeling was mutual," Astrid sighed. Suddenly determined to snap out of it, she straightened herself and took a deep breath. "So, how are you feeling?"

"Me? I'm fine. Why?" Peter asked, confused.

"Why? Because you felt sick as a dog all day yesterday, and hardly slept a wink last night, that's why."

"And you know this how?"

"Come on, Peter. I could tell you were having another one of those headaches all day," Astrid scolded.

He smiled wanly. "And here I thought I was being so brilliant at hiding it."

"Not from me, you weren't." She set the broom aside, and took a step toward Peter. "I woke up in the middle of the night, and I heard you out here. I thought about coming out to see if you needed anything, but you went back to your room just as I was getting up. Seriously, Peter… are you all right?"

Peter bridged the gap between them and took her hand, swinging it between them. "Sure. I guess I can't expect there to be no negative after-effects of implanting, and yanking out, Observer tech from my brain, huh?" At Astrid's dubious look, he amended, "Okay, okay. Walter made me promise that the next time I have a really bad headache, I'll let him do another scan."

"And? You don't think yesterday's qualified as a 'bad headache'? Peter, I saw you. You managed to do it out of Olivia and Walter's sight, but I saw you almost fall yesterday. If I check that chair over there, it probably has dents from where you grabbed it to stay up. I didn't say anything that time, but I swear, if you don't tell Walter… "

"You're right. I'm sorry. Yeah, it was pretty bad yesterday, and last night. But on my life, Astrid, I swear, I'm okay this morning. I don't get it – one day I'm fine, then all of a sudden, everything turns blue, and I think my head's going to explode."

Astrid squeezed his hand. "Do you… ya know… "

"No," he replied quickly. "I never start thinking like them. I'm always, well, me. For good or ill," he added with a smirk.

"Thank God for that," Astrid said frankly. "You scared me, Peter."

"I know. And I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven. I can't imagine the pain you've been going through. Losing Etta again."

"You lost her, too, you know. Like you said, the feeling's mutual."

A wistful smile crossed Astrid's face. "She was the cutest flower girl ever."

Peter nodded, his smile matching hers. "Of course, I don't know if the folks in the aisle seats thought so. She had a throwing arm like a major leaguer, my girl. I think they were picking rose petals out of their teeth for days."

"Maggie said her favorite moment of the ceremony was seeing her Uncle Harry spitting flower petals out of his mouth," Astrid laughed briefly, but her smile faded as quickly as it had appeared.

"You were both beautiful brides," Peter said, walking over to one of the lab computers with Astrid's hand still in his.

"You were a very fetching bridesmaid," she replied. "Walter, too."

"Yeah, well, I have a confession to make." Astrid looked at him expectantly. "Until about an hour before the wedding, Walter was flirting with the idea of wearing a full-length gown, which he felt was more befitting his title."

Astrid whistled through her teeth. "I can't believe I'm actually glad he stuck with the purple tuxedo."

"You and me both. I never could've found a pair of Spanx to fit him, and I can only zip up one member of the wedding party at a time. Olivia had dibs." He chuckled. "Best wedding ever. It even had mine and Olivia's beat."

"I thought your wedding was wonderful," Astrid argued.

"Yeah, I know… but it didn't have Walter in the purple tux."

Grinning, Astrid said, "How did you talk him into a morning suit, anyway?"

"Believe it or not, I just asked." Peter sighed, shaking his head sadly. "We'd gotten to a really good place. Again."

Astrid rubbed his arm sympathetically. "I'm so sorry, Peter. I keep trying to remember things, but it's like… "

"They never happened. Yeah, it's okay, Astrid. I know." He put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a brief squeeze. "Now… I'm glad you mentioned Maggie. I wasn't sure how to bring her up…"

"What do you mean?" Astrid said.

"Well, when I couldn't sleep these last few nights, I did some research. I hope you don't mind," he replied as he typed on the computer keyboard.

"Research? You mean about Maggie?" Astrid asked hopefully.

"Yup. You never mentioned her. We were able to find your dad's grave, but then everything went to hell, and I never got the chance to find Maggie for you. Well, I have now. She's alive, Astrid." Peter hit ENTER, and a database entry appeared: Gallaudet, Margaret.

"Oh, God," Astrid said, covering her mouth. Eyes wide, she looked at Peter. "She's alive. I never even hoped." She touched the name on the screen. "Are you sure it's her?"

"There aren't any photos, but yeah, I'm about 99% sure. Same birthdate, and this Margaret Gallaudet is also a nurse. Physical description matches, too."

"You found her. Peter, you found her for me." Astrid threw her arms around Peter's neck. She felt him wince, and pulled back. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

Peter gingerly touched the back of his neck. "That's okay. The stitches come out tomorrow. That'll be so much fun. So, what do you want to do?"

"What do I – oh, God. I don't know." She was silent for a moment. "Peter, does it say if she's with anyone?"

"No, no record of anything. We were all declared legally dead in '22, so… " Peter shrugged.

"Can we go see her?" Astrid blurted out.

"Um… sure, I guess. But it'd be an awful shock for her, don't you think?"

Astrid's face fell. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess it would. I'd just like to see her, one more time. To know she's all right, ya know?"

"Yeah, I know," Peter said, his thoughts turning to his lost child. I'd just like to see her, one last time…

"But it wouldn't be right," Astrid said.

"What if she didn't know we were there?" Peter asked.

"What? You mean, stalk her?" Astrid laughed.

"Not at all. We can just be in the neighborhood. Hang on a sec." Peter pulled out his comm, glanced at the computer screen, and dialed. He waited for a moment, then said in a flat voice, "This is Smith, Lieutenant for Captain Windmark, designation 18 from Sector 1-7. You have a health care professional named Gallaudet, Margaret in your employ. Please confirm her shift time this evening." He nodded. "Very good." Peter turned the phone off, staring at the screen.

"Peter?" Astrid said. He didn't move. "Peter!" she shouted.

Inhaling sharply, he blinked. "Huh? Oh, sorry."

"Remember I said you scared me when you had the tech? Well, you just did it again." She reached up and touched his face. "You back?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm back." He looked at her stern face. "I'm back. I promise." Patting her shoulder, he said, "We're all set. Margaret's on duty at 6 this evening. There's only one way into that building, so if we park outside, you can at least see her. Do you want to?"

She considered for a moment, then nodded hesitantly. "I do. I have to. I have to see she's okay." She looked at him sheepishly. "Peter would you mind… "

"Sure, Astrid, I'll come with you. Olivia can watch Walter for a couple of hours. It's her turn to unload the supplies anyway – I'm still using my 'injured party' card," he said, smiling mischievously.

"Thanks," Astrid said, hugging him with her arms around his waist this time.

"Anything for you," he said gently, hugging her back, his chin on top of her head. "I'll go let Liv know what we're doing," he said, turning to go.

As he walked away, Astrid said, "Wait, Peter! What happens if someone finds out there's no Lieutenant Smith?"

"There was one," Peter said simply.

"Really?"

"Yeah," he said as he continued to walk. "I killed him a couple of days ago."

-0-0-0-0-

"Jesus, you can't even play a decent game of car spotting in this timeline," Peter groused, fidgeting in his seat.

Astrid smiled patiently. "You know, you sound just like Walter when you get cranky," she said, holding out a Red Vine to him.

He glared at the candy. "Very funny," he griped as he snatched the vine from her hand.

"Yeah, it kind of is," she giggled. "Wait… " She straightened in her seat. "Oh, my God, Peter… I think that's Margaret!" She pointed out the windshield at the tall figure in scrubs and a heavy coat.

Peter took out a pair of binoculars and took a look. "Yeah, I think it… " He put the binoculars down silently. Astrid started to take the glasses from him, but he stilled her hand. "Hang on a second," he said softly.

"Why? What's wrong? Peter, I just want to have a look," she said, taking the binoculars from his lap. "I'm not expecting her to look the same, you know." She held the glasses up to her eyes, recognizing the love of her life instantly – and then seeing the tattoo on her right cheek. "Oh, Maggie… no," she whispered. "Which tattoo is that?" she asked Peter.

"'Serve,'" he said.

"That means she's working on their payroll. She's a true loyalist."

"I'm sorry, Astrid, I should've done more research on her," Peter offered.

She calmly lowered the binoculars as one tear streaked down her cheek. "It's all right," she said in a shaky voice. "You were doing something nice for me, and I appreciate it. We don't know what her situation was that caused her to forge an alliance with them… to collaborate with them. She did what she needed to do to survive. Just like we all did." She looked at Peter. "Thank you for coming with me. I'm glad you're here."

"Astrid… "

"I can never contact her. I'll admit, I thought about it when we decided to do this, but I know now that I can't. She'd… she'd turn us in. I know that. I don't want you to worry about that, Peter," she said matter-of-factly, although the tears still fell.

"It never entered my mind!" Peter protested.

"Still… I needed to say it." She took a deep breath, her eyes lingering on Maggie as she faded from view. "I'd like to go now, please."

Peter started the car, but turned to Astrid for a moment. "Hey," he said, brushing a tear from her cheek with his gloved thumb. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

She nodded with a teary smile. "Thanks. But I have all the family I need. I'm gonna be fine."

Peter threw the car into DRIVE. "Damn right. We stick together, and we're all gonna be just fine."

-0-0-0-0-0-