AN: This is just a one-shot thought rant and I'm not expecting much from it. Normally, I don't do this kind of story but I'm working on getting back into fanfic writing again. This is my first real fic made for this site in years. I guess this show's inspiring me if it's got my muse going so soon after watching an episode. I have a comical one-shot in the works and a multi-chap that will be a while to post, so we'll see if my writing does get better.
Hopefully this story is decent enough to cure your Fringe fic fix. If not, please don't sue.
Disclaimer: Fox owns the show/characters and for the love of god they better not screw it up.
Spoilers: 1x06 The Cure
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She would get a variety of different cards in the past decades she's been getting them and with each passing year, she tried to think nothing of them.
It's been the same every birthday, however. Olivia would always break her vow to maintain self-control whenever she thinks about those stupid cards that she knew would come.
This birthday was one of the worst in history. She hated to admit that she really did screw things up this time with Broyles and going in for work tomorrow would not be satisfying…but it was comforting enough.
It doesn't surprise her that her stepfather knows where she lives. It's all a game to him as to how far he could drive her off the deep end without having to be present. He walks around today somewhere unknown, with bullet-wounded proof that she is that weak.
Thinking of you. Perfect, Olivia thought. It never fails for things like this to keep her shuddering until she finally fell asleep at night.
But why did the timing had to be so wrong? She was so close from shaking off the visions of John in her head, and the thought of the ring stowed away in that box. The moment she woke up that morning and the day began she kept pleading to God 'no case…no case…just let me be alone this time'. Two minutes after that, she picked up the phone and it's Broyles.
All of the exploded corpses and suicides she witnessed today would have had no emotional drainage on her if this had been any other day. Olivia was sure of it, because between the stalking stepfather and the backstabbing lover, the dark deadly dealings of the Pattern now seemed welcoming to her.
Yes, she was seeing melted bodies, exploding heads, and rapidly aging men before her eyes. At first these things did scare her but she was at the point now where this would be normal, almost routine. Routine is a comforting thing, she thought to herself. She couldn't help but believe that the Bishops had somehow made her transition into this new world bearable.
The next case she will have to deal with will involve gruesome deaths of some sort that only Walter can explain. And in the midst of his unusual methods of learning more about the bodies, Peter will whine about how ridiculous he's being, and Astrid will help out without defying Walter (as much as Olivia knew she really wanted to).
It was all she had to look forward to after the birthday is over.
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"Some birthday, huh?"
Peter arrived to take a seat at the hotel bar after Walter ruined any chance of him sleeping in a normal bed again. He saw Olivia coming in as he sat down. No need to ask why she came all the way back to his hotel just for a drink, and in turn, Olivia knew her face gave away everything…the fact that the card did come again.
In an instant, Peter with a wave of his hand to the bartender, got the two of them their first round. She sipped her drink quietly, which bothered her but not him…all because he understood.
She replies to his question with an awkward smile and nod.
And there they waited out the night with few words exchange. This time, now that her birthday was over, Olivia had her phone ready hoping for another dark disturbing case of death by unnatural science. Perhaps Broyles would forget about her "episode" once she gets back to doing things by the Fringe book again.
Because the truth was, she loved her work. Looking into another string of bloody, oozing science-defying corpses brought a much warmer feeling to her now than dealing with the living. There was more light in that dreary Harvard basement than in all of the outside world put together.
The phone rang and Peter watched the smile on Olivia's face grow surprisingly big.
He looked at her oddly after Broyles informed Olivia of a clutter of bodies found with unusual plant life growing out of their stomachs…or something that sounded like that.
"You can't possibly be excited about bringing Walter more corpses to play with."
No response. She has told Peter enough about herself for now. The last thing she wanted him to think now was that she had completely lost her mind.