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Why she had to come here, she didn't know. The four dark walls offered no comfort, there was no deep emotion spurred by the interrogation desk; the room was a part of everyday life for Olivia Dunham.
But the man inside the room was an anomaly. He was an impossible creation, and she was responsible.
He hadn't heard her enter, or perhaps had chosen to ignore the fact that she had. She let the door swing shut, and felt his gaze on her as it clattered to a close. She was surprised though, that his was a look of confusion. She had expected to meet that confident, almost cocky expression she had so despised and yet found so attractive. The one he had used when he fixed their problems as easily as if he just had to change the batteries.
He sat up from where he lay, swinging his legs off of the makeshift bed that had been set up for him. The man who claimed to be Peter Bishop hadn't slept either.
Olivia took a few steps towards him, and drew a seat opposite him. At this level, she could see where his eyes had reddened, and she could feel sadness emanating from him.
"Why are you here?" she asked plainly.
Peter wasn't going to play nice. "I could say the same to you."
Olivia bit her lip in annoyance but shifted her glare to the floor. She wasn't going to pick any fights. Her eyes focused on a corner of the sheet on his bed, and she took to examining the creases and folds while she cleared her head of the angry retorts she had so wanted to come back with.
"I'd like to understand"
"You think I understand?"
Time seemed to be draining, every moment she left his question unanswered she felt the tension increase, the daggers plunging through both of their bodies. A change of tactic was her solution.
"Why me?"
He stared at her blankly, as if she couldn't have asked a more obvious question. As she met his eyes she saw something more than contempt and upset. It flickered only for a moment but it was definitely there, and what she saw scared her. Taking a deep breath Olivia rose to leave, feeling his presence engulf her as he rose too, taking her arm in his hand.
"Don't go" he whispered.
The eyes that held so much were left unmet as Olivia stood still and stared at the floor, paralysed not only by fear and confusion, but at the shivers sparked by his ice cold touch. It was only then that she noted the freezing temperature, but she wasn't sure that this was the culprit for the goosepimples littering her body.
"I don't understand"
Olivia's voice seemed loud as it reverberated off of the walls. She was glad of the late hour and the empty federal building. Peter remained silent, and she continued to stare at the floor as she felt his hand leave her arm. It seemed like the worst thing in the world, but she turned her head to glance at him through her peripherals. He was leant against the wall, arms cushioning his head with his hands hiding his face. His gentle sobs were so quiet she thought she imagined them.
The overwhelming desire to comfort him was strong, but she resisted. She was hurting because he was hurting, and that she couldn't comprehend. Her connection to this stranger, this anomaly was so farfetched, so unlikely, and yet at the same time it was so real. Olivia sat back down, and after a few minutes, he caught his breath and returned to his seat too.
When he finally met her gaze again, she couldn't help herself, she offered out a hand to the stranger, to her stranger, to show him he was not alone.