A/N - Hey folks. I had an idea and it was driving me nuts and this little story was born.
So enjoy and review people.
You know the drill
P.S - I don't own Fringe...
:)
Everything
Olivia had a hard time believing the creature in front of her. Gone were the soft, round cheeks, the gap tooth grin and the beautiful innocence. There was a stunning, young woman sitting before them and if it weren't for the fact that she knew in her bones that this was her daughter, she never would have believed it. It was helped by the fact that she saw Peter and herself there and occasionally a frown that echoed Walter. Peter hadn't let her go, his touch a constant presence since she had woken up, almost as if she was going to disappear. Right now his hand was on her knee, his fingers sometimes grazing her face as he pushed hair from her eyes, which were glued to Henrietta. There were so many things that she needed to say but she didn't know where to start. An apology perhaps, for bringing her into a world that was less than perfect. For leaving her to be raised by someone else, to leave her without parents and for missing out on birthdays and Christmases that should have been marked by them being together.
"I'm sorry."
The words seemed empty, hanging there between them. They were too small and didn't cover all the things that Olivia wanted to apologize for. Henrietta shook her head, a very Walter frown on her face.
"For what?"
"For not being there. For missing out on your entire life. For everything."
Henrietta shook her head again.
"I know what you did, what you tried to do. I know what was sacrificed."
Olivia nodded slightly and went back to examining her daughter. Peter, who had a little more time to process the entire situation, was watching her. He was worried; she could feel in in his touch. She hadn't been long out of the amber and her body was still weak but she could feel her strength building as she watched Henrietta. Her daughter. The words echoed in her mind the same way that they did when she was first born. It was a foreign concept back then too. Like when she had first married Peter. Her daughter and her husband. It took her time to be able to get used to stringing those words together.
"You frown like you grandfather."
The words slipped out of their own accord and Henrietta smiled widely and there was Peter in the small twitch at the corner of her mouth. Olivia could remember all those things that she had first thought when Henrietta was born, the way that Peter and Walter's little mannerisms were all over her face.
"What else?"
Olivia smiled slightly.
"You have your father's eyebrows. You always did."
Henrietta brushed a finger over the arch of her brow, a flush coming to her cheeks.
"That's what Walter said."
"He's right. You chew your lip like me when you are thinking too."
Henrietta released her lower lip from her teeth and Peter chuckled. It was a sweet sound in a world that seemed colder form the one that they had left behind. Olivia tentatively reached over and grazed her fingers against Henrietta, unsure of how far to go. There was only a moment's hesitation before Henrietta clasped her mother's hand tightly and Olivia could feel the relief that only her daughter could provide. In this enclosed space she could smell her too. Olivia remembered the smell when she was born, the intoxicating scent that all new-born's had. She could remember the scent of her the last time she held her, a mixture of soap and crayons and now she smelt like something else, something that Olivia would never be able to describe.
"I really am sorry."
Henrietta shook off the apology again, glancing at Peter.
"I don't want to do this."
For a moment Olivia felt panicked then she saw the twitch, Peter's twitch at the corner of her mouth again.
"I don't want to waste time on guilt. You did what you had too and I know that. I'm just glad that I have you again."
Her slight smile was enough and Olivia knew that she would be forgiven. It was another thing to forgive herself but for now, this was enough.
"How did you find us?"
"Because I'm stubborn. When I was old enough to understand, I started searching for you. I kept being told how much you loved me but no-one would tell me why you left. In protecting me, they made me more curious. And Simon helped."
It was hard for Olivia to comprehend that her daughter had relationships with men, in her mind Henrietta was still the little girl that constantly asked why. And there was that pain in her voice too. Peter told her how Simon had allowed himself to be encased in amber to save them, the trading of one life for another. She didn't like the pain in Henrietta's voice, the shadow that lingered there. Simon was important to her. There was a banging behind the closed door and Henrietta shifted. A second later an older man popped his head around the corner, his cheeks flushed.
"Etta, they're coming."
The door slammed closed again and Henrietta stood.
"You have to go. Now."
Olivia shook her head.
"I'm not leaving you."
"You're not strong enough to fight. And we are prepared for this."
Henrietta stood, her eyes half on the door and half on her parents, directing her instructions to Peter.
"Go up the air vent. The opening will take you through to a back alley. Turn left and there is a black car parked out there. The keys are on the front left tyre. It has a GPS system which will tell you precisely where to go. Ask for Joe. Got it?"
Peter nodded and moved, climbing onto the table between them, popping the air vent off easily. Olivia shook her head, her daughter's hand clutched in her own.
"I'm not leaving you again."
Henrietta shook off her hand and pushed her towards Peter, who grabbed her wrists, gently lifting her onto the table.
"You have to go. I'll be fine. They can't read me like they can everyone else. I'm safer than most."
Peter glanced once at Henrietta before grabbing Olivia's waist and lifting her into the vent. He paused for one more moment.
"We love you."
It didn't matter that the words hadn't been said for so long, he still felt them, the passion he had for his daughter hadn't changed. It was the same from the moment she had been placed in her arms.
Henrietta smiled.
"I know, Dad. I love you guys too."
Peter nodded quickly, lifting himself through the vent, sliding it closed behind them. Olivia had already started crawling and Peter ignored her sobs. He refused to admit that this hurt him too. Eventually they made it to the end and into the alley. He took Olivia's hand as they pressed themselves against the cold wall, moving slowly. The black car sat exactly where Henrietta had promised it would be, the keys cool against his fingers. Olivia slid into the seat beside him, shaking, her face wet with tears.
"Liv?"
She turned her head and looked at him, her face pulled into a deep frown.
"We left her again. We only just got her back."
Peter shifted in the seat slightly, taking a moment to glance around the quiet street.
"We had to Liv. Do you really want to risk your life fighting when you aren't strong enough? You barely made it into the room to see her in the first place."
Olivia sighed, her face sad.
"I know. But we left her. Just like we did before."
Peter reached over and squeezed her hand.
"She needed us safe. Before, we had no choice. Now we do. She needs us strong; she needs us alive for this. The war hasn't stopped just because we were in amber."
She said nothing more and Peter threw the car into gear and they started moving, the GPS cheerful guiding them. Twenty minutes later, they were outside a rundown house, the windows boarded and only the barest of light despite the darkness. He sighed and glanced at Olivia. There was something wrong. She was shaking, her skin deathly pale and pinched.
"Liv, stay with me."
Olivia mumbled something and he slipped from the car and ran up the cracked steps, banging on the door. A tiny slit opened, a pair of eyes watching him.
"I'm here to see Joe."
"Name?"
"Bishop. My wife is in the car."
"Etta's parents?"
"Yes."
The slit closed and he heard a series of locks shift before the door finally opened. A slim redhead stepped out, a large gun in her hand.
"Get your wife inside."
Peter nodded and went back to the car. He opened the door and barely caught Olivia as she fell into his arms. She was still shaking and a fine sheen of sweat had appeared on her forehead. Peter scooped her up and carried her into the house.
"Put her on the sofa."
The redhead closed the door, sliding, by Peter's count, eight locks into place. She flicked the safety of her gun and placed it against the wall. Peter gently lowered Olivia onto he sofa and watched as the redhead moved closer, a damp cloth in her hands.
"She's still weak from being in the amber. She needs to rest. Wait here."
She handed him the cloth and he gently wiped Olivia's brow, her skin cold against his fingertips. He pushed some hair from her eyes and tugged a blanket from the back of the sofa onto her. The redhead came back into the room, a needle in her hand. Peter shifted in front of Olivia a little more, his eyes narrow. He wasn't going to let anything hurt her, not after just getting her back.
"What's that?"
"Basic glucose, it will help stabilize her system. The adrenaline in her system has run her dry. She needs this."
Peter didn't move and the red head shifted on the balls of her black boots, her voice hard and impatient.
"What do you need to know before you let me help your wife? Etta sent you to me. She trusts me and you need too as well."
Peter measured her for a moment with his eyes, seeing nothing but honesty and frankness on her face. Finally, he shifted back and watched as the redhead slipped the needle into Olivia's vein. She stepped back and put the cap back over the needle.
"She will sleep for a while then she should be fine. It's not the best idea to run around when you are just out of the amber. It can take the body a while to adjust to moving again."
Peter made sure that Olivia was tucked in before standing and extending his hand.
"Peter Bishop."
The redhead smiled slightly.
"Joe Carter."
Peter blinked.
"I was expecting a man."
"Everybody does. That's half the fun. Do you want something to drink?"
"Sure."
Joe moved and Peter followed, finally getting a chance to look at the safe house. It was barely furnished but it was neat and tidy. When they got to the kitchen, it was just as orderly as the rest of the house, cups and plates stacked neatly. Joe pulled open a small fridge before tossing him a can of soda.
"Enjoy that by the way. We had to break into an old building to find the dozen that we have in the fridge. One of the rarities of this day and age."
He popped the top and drank deeply, the cold sweetness burning his throat. He finished half the can before placing it onto the cracked table. He watched as Joe lit a cigarette, sucking on it deeply.
"So how do you know Etta?"
"She saved me."
"From what?"
"Some bullies. We were seven. They were beating on me and Etta stepped in, all blonde fury and stubbornness, telling them to stop. When they didn't, she kicked the biggest in the shin, making him cry. After that, they left us alone."
Peter laughed, he couldn't help it. He could not have been happier that she had taken after her mother in her sense of injustice in the world. He knew she was stubborn too and had that horrible fearlessness the made him scared for her but proud all the same.
"Is she going to be ok?"
The words slipped from his mouth even if he didn't want to know the answer. Joe sighed and finished her cigarette, putting the butt into a cup and Peter could hear the small sizzle as the heat hit the water. She ran her hand through her tangled hair, tugging it away from her face.
"Look Mr Bishop-"
"Peter."
"Peter, she's safer than the rest of us. You know those old radio's with the AM and FM frequency's?"
"Yeah."
"Well she kind of works like that. The rest of us are on the FM and she's on the AM. It hard to explain exactly how it works. But they can't read her."
Peter nodded slightly, wondering briefly if it was from the Cortexiphan that had been pumped into Olivia's system. If he had the timing right, she still had it in her veins when she got pregnant.
"She's got something else too."
"What?"
Joe lit another cigarette and through the wisps of smoke he studied her and waited for her to continue. He could see the scars on her face and smaller ones on her arms. He wondered if she had gotten them fighting the war. Her eyes were old too; there were shadows there, the same ones he sometimes saw in his own gaze and in Olivia's.
"When the Observer's first came, they killed people, wiped out entire families. It was a way to keep order and fear. They left the bodies on the streets as reminders. I remember the way it smelled, the blood and the rot. My grandfather said he saw less carnage in the wars."
Joe shivered slightly before continuing.
"We were at school when they pulled us all out of the classroom. The lined us up. They tried to do it size wise but I was scared and wouldn't let go of Etta's hand. They went down the line one by one, reading the thoughts. When they got to me, I was angry. I hated them and that's exactly what they saw. Then there was this pain. I know now that they were trying to wipe me but it wasn't working. Etta was doing something, I don't know what but she blocked their ability. The pain stopped and my thoughts were gone. I think Etta took them, hiding them from the Observer's. I didn't feel any of the hate. I just felt…..quiet, you know? They seemed confused before they focused on another child. They wiped her. She was standing two down from me and I watched as they liquefied her brain."
Peter nodded slightly, remaining silent.
"I asked Etta later how she did it but she wasn't sure. She was scared and she just kind of wanted me to stop thinking, and I did. She said she needed me not to die. That's twice she's saved me. I'm not going to stop fighting until she does."
Peter shifted in his seat, struggling to take in all the information that he had been given in such a short space of time. He had gone from being stagnant for twenty years to finding his family again and discovering that his daughter, now an adult, had powers that allowed her to hide from her enemies. It was a lot of information.
"She works well under pressure. I freak out and go to my crazy place while she can calmly think of her next move."
"Your crazy place?"
Joe smiled.
"Yeah. Etta is the thinker; I'm the one that goes for the gun. We balance each other out I think."
"Certainly seems that way."
"She also cares too much. It drives me nuts. Do you know how many times she has gotten hurt trying to help people that don't deserve to be helped?"
Joe seemed to realize her mistake the same moment that Peter felt the pain in his gut. He didn't want to think about Etta getting hurt, he didn't want to think of a person threatening his little girl.
"I'm sorry. You don't need to hear that."
"It's ok. I'm just having trouble putting this person together with the little girl that I remember."
"She stopped being that little girl a long time ago. She's a good person, your daughter."
Peter wished he could milk Joe for every story and memory of Etta. He only had a few years' worth while Joe had a lifetime that he wasn't part of. Peter decided to focus on the task at hand, leaving his regret to be dealt with later. There was nothing that he could do about it now. They made the only move that they could when they encased themselves in amber. And one day he would make his peace with the loss that sat heavy on his heart.
"So, I assume there is a plan?"
Joe nodded.
"Of course. And it's a simple one too. To stop the Observers. Etta's been at it since she was old enough to hold a gun. As for right now, we stay here for twenty-four hours and if she hasn't returned, then we move onto the next safe house. Etta wanted to make sure that you stayed safe, regardless of what happened to her."
Peter nodded slightly. Fighting, always fighting, that was what they were constantly doing and now their daughter was forced to carry on that legacy. And Joe too, battling a war that they started all those years ago.
"It's kind of weird putting face to the name I've been hearing all these years. I'm a bit of a fan of you are your work with the Fringe division."
"Really?"
Joe nodded.
"You try being best friends with a girl who is a walking encyclopaedia of Fringe knowledge. Plus, your reputation kind of precedes you."
Peter nodded slightly, only half taking on the compliment. He wanted to know more about his Etta.
"So Joe, can you tell me something?"
"What?"
"Was she ok? Growing up I mean?"
Joe shrugged.
"Yeah I guess. She always talked about you guys but not how it affected her. But I had my parents until I was fourteen and she was constantly at our house. I always felt guilty because I always forgot that she didn't have what I did. I always just kind of took her on as part of my family."
Peter frowned at the mention of Joe's parents.
"Did the Observer's-"
"No. Car accident, just the run-of-the-mill wet road routine."
"I'm sorry."
Joe shrugged.
"I had Etta. She made it easier. She's a tough cookie. Don't tell her I said that. She might get ideas."
"Peter."
Peter jolted from his seat back into the living room where Olivia was stirring on the sofa. He dropped to his knees, feeling more relived at the colour that had appeared on her cheeks. He stroked her face, her skin warm beneath his fingertips.
"Hey you, welcome back."
"What happened?"
"Your body couldn't handle the adrenaline and you passed out."
Olivia frowned at her new surroundings.
"Where are we?"
"A safe house."
"Etta?"
Peter sighed.
"She's not back yet. But she will be. Soon."
Olivia shifted herself into a sitting position and looked around the safe house, her eyes falling on Joe. Joe moved closer, offering her hand.
"Hi, I'm Joe."
Olivia shook her hand, glancing at Peter.
"Who are you?"
"Etta's best friend. I'll find you a change of clothes. If we have to move, you need to keep hidden."
Joe slipped from the room and Olivia followed her exit before her eyes returned to Peter.
"How long was I out?"
"Not long. You need something to drink."
Peter returned to the kitchen, grabbing his can of soda before returning and handing it to her.
"Enjoy it, apparently soda is hard to come by now."
Olivia finished the last of the can quickly, smacking her lips slightly. She hadn't realized how dry her throat had become.
"That was good."
Peter offered her a smile before taking her hand and helping her stand. She was steady on her feet and she looked like herself again. Joe came back into the room, her arms full of clothes, placing them on the end of the sofa.
"Bathrooms down the hall, first door on the left."
"Thanks. Peter, can I talk to you for a second?"
Joe disappeared into the kitchen again and Peter followed Olivia down the dark hall and into the bathroom. Two small candles flickered as he closed the door.
"Who is she?"
"Etta's friend."
Olivia rolled her eyes.
"I know that much. I mean can we trust her?"
"Etta sent us here. If Etta trusts her, we should too. She seems like a nice girl. She and Etta have been friends since they were seven. Apparently, our daughter saved her not once, but twice."
Olivia smiled slightly, stripping off her old clothes and pulling on a grey top, black hooded sweatshirt and black jeans. They were all slightly too big for her but it was enough to cover her hair and her face.
"So what's the plan?"
"According to Joe, after twenty-four hours we move to the next safe house."
"But Etta – "
"Will be fine."
Peter's eyes narrowed as he examined Olivia's face.
"But you need to eat something."
Olivia leaned forward and touched his face.
"You worry too much."
"Talk about the pot calling the kettle black."
He leaned his forehead against hers, inhaling that delicious scent that was nothing but pure Olivia.
"I missed you."
"We were in amber."
"Yeah but I knew you weren't there. I could feel it."
Olivia sighed, lacing her fingers through his.
"We are together now. And we have Etta back. She's gotten so big."
"I have no basis for comparison but I think that's what kids are meant to do."
"You know what I mean."
She shifted again and embraced Peter completely, pressing her face into the pulse point at his throat. She had forgotten how soothing that heavy, steady rhythm could be.
"I know. But she's beautiful. She looks so much like you."
Olivia could feel the smile and pride in his voice.
"You're there too. She's got your kindness in her eyes and that secret little twitch that you get when you are trying not to make fun of me. And she's far braver then she should be."
"Like I said, just like you."
Olivia laughed slightly and pressed a sweet kiss to his neck before pulling away, keeping their hands tightly together. They left the bathroom and the first thing that Peter noticed was the smell. When they got into the kitchen, Joe was sitting at the table, three plates of macaroni and cheese in front of her.
"Sorry it isn't much and it's from a carton but if you add salt and close your eyes, it almost does the trick."
Peter pulled out a seat for Olivia before taking one himself. It tasted like cardboard and the fake cheese was heavy and thick but they needed to eat. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Olivia first ate tentatively then with gusto, clearing off her plate before he had his own. He shifted half the food over from his to hers and watched as she cleared that off easily too. Joe barely picked at hers before offering it to Olivia as well.
"You need the strength. Plus, I've had this four times already this week."
Olivia offered her a smile before accepting the third helping. When she was done, she sat back with a small sigh. Joe got up from her seat and filled up two glasses with water, handing them each one. Peter drunk his quickly, watching as Olivia did the same. Water gone, Olivia sat back with a slight sigh.
"Thank you Joe."
"You are welcome. Now, you should both get some rest. You can have my bed, I don't expect to be sleeping much tonight. I never do when Etta is hitting the town."
Joe showed them the bed and closed the door quietly behind her. Neither of them wanted to sleep, thoughts on their daughter in the night, fighting monsters that they should have been fighting with her. Instead, they settled under the covers and Peter curled around her and she enjoyed the heat and smell of him. They whispered in the dark, comparing notes on Etta. She didn't know how much time had passed before she heard a series of hard bangs on the door. It was Etta. She didn't know how she knew it was but the confidence she had in the thought outweighed the question. She knew it as surely as she felt Peter's arms around her. She slipped from Peter's embrace and pulled open the door, pausing as she watched Etta argue with Joe.
"Etta, you can't keep doing that."
Joe had her hands on her hips, her voice angry. Etta's face carried a deep frown and it took Olivia a moment to see the smudge of blood around her face. Etta tried to move around Joe but Joe blocked her path. Etta stepped back and adopted the same pose, standing off against her friend.
"And what was I meant to do Joe? Let them take her? They would have just killed her and I'm not about to let that happen when I can stop it."
"I know but what did you get in return? Beat up and bleeding. We can't fight this war without you and if you keep trying to be a hero….."
Joe's sentence lingered, unfinished and sad in the air. Olivia could see the concern in Joe's face and in the way she held her shoulders. She was far too familiar with the pose herself. Etta moved closer to Joe and placed her arm around her shoulders.
"I can't stop fighting. It's genetic."
"As you like remind me. Constantly."
Etta moved in closer still and for a moment they stood together, heads bent, a mixture of blonde and red.
"They will help us, Joe. We can end this. I promised that a long time ago, remember? I told you what saving them would achieve. Then everything we have been through will be for something. After all these years, don't start doubting me now."
Etta moved back and playfully tugged at Joe's hair.
"And it was a good night. I'm not dead, am I?"
Rather than comment, Joe growled, a low angry sound. She didn't like the idea of Etta getting hurt anymore then Olivia did.
"Are they here?"
Joe sighed and moved out of the way.
"Of course they are. I fed and watered them too. They had one of your sodas."
And Olivia could finally see her daughter in her full, injured glory. Etta was bleeding from a gash over her eye and a series of small cuts on her arms. She had rips in her clothes too.
"Etta."
Olivia said nothing else as she moved around Joe and closer to her daughter, her finger's gently examining the wound. It wasn't as bad as it looked.
"I just nicked one of those tiny, annoying veins in my eyebrow. I'm fine."
Joe sighed, throwing up her hands slightly.
"Believe me when I tell you that if she looks like this, the bad guy looks worse. I'll get the first aid kit."
Olivia took her hand and led her into the kitchen. Joe reappeared a moment later, placing the first aid kit on the table. Olivia gently pushed her daughter's hair out of the way before starting to clean the wound.
"You know, you got worse when you were three."
"I did?"
Olivia offered her a small smile.
"Your father took you to the playground and you were determined to get onto the monkey bars but you were too small. When his back was turned, you somehow managed to get yourself on them regardless, slipped and cracked your head on a bar."
Joe snorted slightly.
"Sounds like Etta. And it explains so much."
Peter came into the kitchen, a small smile on his face.
"I felt so damn guilty for weeks after that. But the worse part? Going home to find your mother waiting at the door for us. She knew something had happened. She always knew when something happened."
Olivia caught her daughter under the chin, gently angling her head a little. The wound was shallow and Olivia placed a small plaster over it, leaning back slightly to examine her work. She then focused on the tiny pattern of cuts on her arms, gently cleaning them out.
"All done."
Olivia packed up the kit and sat back with a sigh.
"So, what happened tonight?"
"The Observers weren't the problem, the Loyalists were."
Olivia exchanged a quick look with Peter and noting his confusion, she turned back to Etta.
"Loyalists?"
"They work for the Observer's. I had to fight them for a young girl. She got too smart and they got pissed off."
Olivia frowned, her mind still having trouble connecting her little girl to this fighter before them. Peter's voice jolted her from her thoughts.
"Where is the girl now?"
Etta shook her head.
"She's at home. For all the safety that would bring her. I told her to keep her mouth shut and her head down. God knows if she will listen."
"You said the Observers can't read you, right?"
Peter's comment caught Olivia off guard. She had heard it mentioned before but she was barely listening. She didn't know what it meant.
Etta nodded.
"Why?"
Joe came back into the kitchen, her hands on her hips.
"I tried to explain it but you know I'm not good with those things."
Etta stood and moved around the small kitchen. She gathered four glasses and took another can of soda from the fridge. She smiled at Joe's hard look.
"I might have a concussion. I need the sugar. And I didn't die."
"Not funny."
Joe sighed and sat down beside Etta, who nudged her with her shoulder.
"That's why you're the comedian, not me."
Etta carefully poured the soda into the glasses, dividing it evenly between them. She slid two glasses over to Peter and Olivia before speaking again.
"It works like a curtain. They only read the thoughts that I let them see, nothing else. I've always been able to do it. I don't know how or why."
Peter knew that Olivia's thoughts went exactly where his went, to the Cortexiphan. He could hardly hate something that provided his daughter with the ability to be invisible in this war.
"Joe said that you blocked her thoughts too."
Olivia frowned.
"What? How is that possible?"
Etta shrugged.
"I don't know. I was trying to protect Joe. And it just happened. I took her thoughts, made them my own and hid them. They were trying to kill her."
Joe, clearly restless and uncomfortable at being the topic of conversation, shifted in her seat, and pulled out her packet of cigarettes. Etta opened her mouth, her frown deep but Joe cut her off with a hard look.
"Etta, don't you dare start."
"They are bad for you."
Joe laughed darkly.
"Look around Etta. These should be the last thing on your list of concerns. Now focus, Princess."
The comment was meant to be scathing and coming from anyone else, it would have been but Peter could hear the affection in Joe's tone. And Etta merely sighed and watched as Joe lit her cigarette, glancing at her parent's. Peter could remember the time after Etta was born, when he knew that there needed to be more children in their future. He wanted her to have a sibling, to have the relationship and the closeness that he saw with Rachel and Olivia. But it looked as if Etta had already found herself a sister. And despite her tough exterior, he knew that Joe cared for Etta too. Even though the war was raging, at least she had someone to watch her back.
"Did they view her as a threat?"
Joe laughed.
"Me a threat? They should have been looking at the blonde that was standing next to me."
Olivia shook her head.
"But they can see time backwards and forwards right? So shouldn't they know that Etta is a threat to them? That she was going to find us and end it?"
Peter could hear the confusion and it matched his own. From what little they knew, they should have seen this coming. They should be in this room right now, or more logically, they never should have been released from the amber to start with.
"Like I said, I don't know how it works. But it does and that is all that matters."
Joe moved out of her seat and pulled some large rolls of paper from one of the top shelves. She unrolled them on the table before them, the edges yellowed and aged.
"What are these?"
"Some of the items that I've found of the years. Walter needs these to build the machine."
"The machine?"
"To stop the Observer's. We will be meeting with Astrid and Walter tomorrow, get these to him."
Joe smiled brightly.
"So we are definitely moving tomorrow?"
"Yeah, we need too."
Joe nodded.
"Good. It's making me nervous, being here for so long."
Etta offered her friend a small smile.
"Then we will finalize our plan."
Joe smiled back and with a happy nod, left the room again. Olivia exchanged a quick look with Peter before examining her daughter again.
"What's the plan?"
Henrietta smiled widely and this time the glint in her eye was one that Peter was all too familiar with. It was the same look that Olivia got when a case was hot, when she knew that she was on the trail of the person that she needed to find. It was the same look she had in her eye when she had first blackmailed him. It was the same glint that he had fallen in love with.
"To finish this war and to claim our lives back."