Peter had spent hours searching for Olivia. She wouldn't answer his calls and no one had even seen her in 24 hours. The last he had heard, she had stayed late at the lab, combing through details of previous cases, searching for answers to questions that haunted her. Answers that he knew she'd probably never find. And now here it was a day later and she hadn't turned up anywhere. They had been planning on making a trip up to Cambridge to visit an old witness. But when she never showed up on his doorstep and didn't even call, he knew something was wrong. Broyles said he had agents out looking for her, but after the incident with Mitchell Loeb, Peter couldn't trust anyone at the Bureau. He had to find her on his own.

Fear and worry tugging at his heart, he decided to try the lab one more time. "Olivia?" he called hopefully, his voice resounding in an echo. The lab was silent and slightly chilly. Gene mooed in the corner of her stall. After ducking his head into Walter's office and even checking the walk in supply cabinets, he still could not find Agent Dunham.

Peter was frustrated, his worry and concern bubbling within him, tearing and clawing at his throat they filled him with sorrow as well.

Wrapping his jacket tighter around him, Peter turned up the thermostat in the lab, reminding himself to admonish Walter later for not checking such things before he left. Biting his lip and turning away from the thermostat, he gave the lab another once over. His eyes came to rest on a peculiar array on the lab bench. Peter found a neatly folded pile of clothes, next to which lay a towel with an iphone on top. Confused, Peter picked it up in his hands. He went to turn it on and discovered it was Olivia's. After all she was the only woman he knew who had the FBI logo set at her wallpaper instead of a picture of like a cute puppy. She had a pass code set to it, however. Peter laid it back down with a sigh. He didn't understand. Olivia's things were here, but where was Olivia? If she had been taken surely they wouldn't have left her things behind like this, let alone in a neat organized pile.

"Olivia?" He called out again.

Upon further inspection of the items on the lab bench, he found a manila folder that lay open in a rush, things scattered all over the counter top. Carefully tucking the contents back inside, Peter closed it and examined the front. It was blank with no indication of what if contained. He knew it wasn't Walter's, Astrid had organized and labeled every box of paper Walter owned. And it wasn't from the bureau, it lacked the glaring red classified stamp and the ID number in the corner. Peter glanced around before opening it. Inside was Olivia's own personnel file. Everything about her, her history, her medical information. Everything. Disappointed because he had already been through these papers once before (unbeknownst to her) he tossed it back on the table, his frustration growing hotter in his blood.

A loud thump and clang startled him and he whipped around, his body already in attack mode. He relaxed though as he realized it had only been the furnace kicking on in the vents. Sighing and unclenching his fists, Peter put his hands in pockets and continued to look around for any more signs of Liv.

He caught sight of a computer monitor that had been left on. "Oh my god..." He breathed. On the screen was Olivia as she lay in the alter-tank. Her eyes were closed and the water was dead still, meaning she herself hadn't moved in a long while. Scared out of his mind, Peter scrambled down the steps and rushed to Walter's giant tank. He wrenched open the metal doors, each one landing with a loud clang.

"Olivia!" Peter cried. She lay still in the tank, her body in an awkward position. It seemed as though she had crawled in head first. None of it made sense.

"Livia!" Peter called again. When it had evoked no response from her, Peter knew he had to get her out and awake. Walter had expressed concerns that any prolonged exposure to an artificial dreamstate would cause severe side effects and even death.

Peter ducked his head and climbed into the tank after his partner. He was oblivious to the tight cramped space, concerned only about making sure she was safe. He touched her face, "Livy! Wake up, Olivia." He urged. "Please!" Tucking an arm under her head and the other around her body, he lifted her gently. She was limp and unresponsive in her arms and her body soaked his shirt and his jeans. The chilly water went unnoticed by him though. "Olivia." he whispered and gently shook her to no avail. She wasn't waking up. Tears were pushing at his eyes, building up in excruciating pressure. He wouldn't let himself cry; not yet. Not until he was sure. With quick fluid grace and gentleness, Peter removed the electrodes from the sides of her head where she had placed them. They left sickening red circles that screamed out in contrast against her pale white skin. He bowed his head to her mouth, searching for any exhalation. Peter pressed two fingers to her neck searching for her pulse; for any sign that she was still alive.

It was there, dangerously slow and faint, but the blood still pulsed beneath his fingers. He sighed in relief but knew he still had to act quickly to save her. She was clinging to life by a thread; he had to save her before it snapped and she fell into the darkness forever. He wouldn't lose her.

Moving fast and yet taking care not to hurt her, Peter lifted her completely into his arms. He carefully maneuvered them, turning his body to the side and sloshing back to the open doors to the tank. His back groaned and throbbed from bending over in such and awkward position and carrying her dead weight in his arms.

Peter was oblivious again however, focused only on getting her out of this damn water-filled coffin and into the lab. He struggled to climb out, paying careful attention to her and making sure he didn't smack her head in the process. Instead his own forehead made contact with metal. He stumbled, momentarily feeling her slipping out of his arms, he held her closer and pushed away the pain radiating in his skull. Peter pulled Olivia into open air and onto the lab floor. He gasped from the exertion. Peter gently laid her on the floor before scrambling to his feet and dashing to the counter to fetch the towel. "Hang on Liv, I'm coming." He grabbed a second towel on his way and rushed back to where Olivia laid still in a puddle of water on the floor.

He swiftly wrapped her body in the towels. He held her in his arms again. "Come on Olivia... Come on. Stay with me." He breathed, rocking her back and forth and rubbing the towels against her skin, trying to warm her up.

A minute or two passed by and she still hadn't shown any sign of respose. "Okay. Okay." Peter wiped his nose with the back of his trembling hand and tried to think of what to do. "Okay!" He struggled to his feet once more, carrying her to the table. He swept off the junk that littered the lab bench, sending several beakers and vials to the floor where they shattered. Peter laid her down gently and then began ripping open Walter's drawers searching for a syringe. He slapped one on the table and sprinted to the shelves of chemicals and medicines.

In a matter of seconds, his fingers closed around the glass vial of adrenaline and he rushed back to Olivia, thanking god for Astrid's organizing. Peter ripped off the top of the wrapper of the new syringe. His fingers trembled in rolling earthquakes as he withdrew the clear liquid from the vial and up into the needle. He held it in his teeth while he unwrapped Olivia from her towels and exposed her chest.

Peter raised the siringe in his fist. "I'm sorry about this, sweetheart." He told her before he brought it down to stab her square in the chest, pushing down the plunger. The drug was instant. Olivia's body bucked on the counter, her eyes flying open. She gasped for air and her fingers clawed, searching for something to grasp.

Smiling and finally allowing himself to cry, Peter pulled her close again. She gripped his shirt and panted tirelessly, shivering all the while. "Thank god. Oh Liv... Thank god." He murmured, kissing her damp hair over and over.