TITLE: His Touch

RATING: T

SPOILERS: Over There Part 2

SUMMARY: A P/O reunion scene. Only Peter can calm her when she returns.

DISCLAIMER: Characters not mine, blah blah blah, don't sue me, blah blah blah


The ringtone of his cell phone abruptly startled him out of his accidental cat nap at the lab. Peter quickly berated himself
for allowing the indulgence of sleep. He had not planned on sleeping at all until Olivia was back safe and sound.

Answering his phone, he heard the authoritative voice of Broyles: "We found her. She's back."

Astrid and Walter were watching Peter as he took the call and noticed the change of expression on his face. They quickly
walked over to him; they knew it had to be news about Olivia. Peter moved his mouth away from his cell to quickly blurt
out to them, "They found her."

"Oh that's wonderful!" Walter proclaimed and clapped his hands together and held them in a prayer-like clasp.

Peter shook his head and held out his hand at Walter to shush him. Peter didn't quite dare celebrate yet. Something in
Broyles' voice seemed to tamper down the joy of the news he had so anxiously wanted to hear.

Returning to his phone call with Broyles, he fired out to him, "How? Where?"

"We found her collapsed on the stage in the Opera House. Walter's idea of keeping the door open a crack must have
helped her to get back on her own."

"Is she okay?"

"That's what we're trying to determine. They transported her by helicopter to Boston General," Broyles added.

"I'm on my way," Peter said hastily as he hung up with Broyles.

Astrid and Walter picked up on the fact that something was wrong and their happiness was zapped when Peter hurriedly
grabbed the car keys off the work table. "You guys stay here. I'll call you in a bit," he called back to them.

Peter's adrenaline quickly rushed throughout his body, sending his nerves reeling on end and his legs swiftly running
through the doors of the lab.

Arriving at the hospital in record time, Peter was ready to bolt into her room when Broyles stepped in front of him to prevent
him from going in.

"You need to be prepared first before you go in there."

With panic present on his face and his patience gone, Peter let out a long breath. "What's going on?"

"She is showing classic symptoms of having been held in solitary confinement. She's huddled in the corner of the room and
won't let anyone go near her. Most likely they kept her in the dark because she's shielding her eyes from the light. She's very
combative and sensitive to touch. She may be suffering internal damage as well; she was beaten and her arm is broken.
And from the looks of it, they didn't give her much food or water, but she has plenty of needle marks so they must have been
drugging her."

Broyles paused and looked towards her room. Peter realized that as stoic as Broyles usually was, he was noticeably upset at
seeing one of his Agents in such a state.

"I never would have believed she could be so...broken," Broyles sadly admitted.

Peter blinked slowly and swallowed hard. One of the reasons why Peter found himself drawn to Olivia from the start was her
inner strength and riveting tenacity. To have those qualities stripped raw from her in such an unimaginable, vicious way proved
to ignite a hot anger deep within Peter's being. If his father were here right now (the real one), there would be no second
thoughts as to how Peter would be at his throat, gripping him hard and squeezing the very life out of him with no remorse.

"She says she won't talk to anyone but you," Broyles said quietly, returning to his matter-of-fact demeanor. "You need to get her
calmed down and convince her to let the doctors and nurses do their job. Her injuries need attention."

Peter nodded glumly and Broyles stepped aside to let Peter through into the room.

Broyles said he needed to be prepared. Peter quickly realized that nothing could have prepared him for the sight now before his
eyes when he walked into her room.

Olivia looked small and frightened cowering in the corner. She protectively cradled her broken arm in an attempt to keep the bone
from being moved. Her face was a canvas of purple bruises under tracks of tear stains and dirt. Her vacant stare out into thin air
showed no sign of her usual determined, strong-minded spirit that Peter knew and loved so well. The compulsive way she rocked
herself back and forth against the wall did nothing to ease the trembles and shivers running involuntarily throughout her body.

In an instant, Peter's soul shattered and ached for her. His first reaction was to run to her and enfold her in his arms, not only to
make her pain go away, but because he had missed her so much and was so relieved that she was alive. But he instinctively
held back. He knew that if he was going to reach her, he would have to be more stand-offish, at least at first.

He approached her slowly and quietly knelt down on his knees in front of her line of vision. Although she was looking right at him,
there was no connection in spirit made. Peter felt his heart beat thumping in his throat.

"Olivia..." he half-whispered, half-choked out. His own agony was heard in his voice.

As quiet as his voice was, she was startled by the sound. She curled her body up even tighter and lowered her head to try to
make herself disappear.

"It's me, Olivia, it's Peter."

He gave her a moment to let that phrase sink in, but she still had not changed her body position. Peter ever-so-gently reached out
a hand to touch her shoulder, but before he made physical contact, she sensed his movement and struck out at him.

"Don't TOUCH me!" she hissed as loud as she could with her gravelly, tired voice. Her vocal chords had been strained from all the
screaming she had done in her cell on the Other Side.

Peter recoiled quickly and felt the sharp, icy sting of her words. She was not recognizing his presence, and the menacing way she
spoke made him realize just how badly she must have been treated by her captors.

Urgently wanting to reach her now, he tried again, this time stronger and louder. "Olivia, it's me. I'm here..."

With her face buried in her arms, he heard her whimper, "I just want to go home."

She rocked back and forth quickly, her stress very apparent.

"You are home, Olivia. You made it back. I'm here. Please look at me. Olivia."

Although he couldn't see her face, he heard her start to cry. Peter didn't know how much more of this he could take.

"Olivia...please..." he pleaded, tears threatening to form in his own eyes.

After a moment, she finally looked up at him and saw him.

"Peter?"

She blinked her eyes in the light, fresh tears glistening down her cheeks.

"Hey," he said affectionately with a bittersweet smile.

She slowly reached out to touch his face, not sure if he was real. Her hand felt cold against his warm skin. He gently took her
hand away, kissed it and continued to hold it in his lap while he watched her work through her thoughts and return back to reality.

"I made it back?" she whispered in confusion.

Peter nodded while he swept away the wetness on her cheek with the thumb of his other hand. He couldn't take it anymore and
just had to hold her. He slowly leaned in towards her see if that was okay with her. He was grateful when she crawled the rest of
the way to him and melted into his lap. Olivia released a huge sigh of relief from her battered body while burying her face in his chest
beneath his chin, allowing Peter to surround her with his touch.

Peter had held her before, but this time was different. Never before had he so desperately needed her close to him. So many strong
emotions came crashing through his heart all at once and all he could do was shut his eyes to the dizzying sensation and breathe
her in. He couldn't speak. There were no words to tell her how sorry he was that she was left behind all alone, that his own father
did this to her, how scared he had been these last few weeks thinking that he had lost her for good.

After a while, Olivia popped up her head and looked around the room.

"A hospital? What am I doing here?"

Peter almost laughed at her question but he didn't. "You're hurt. You need medical attention. Why don't I help you up and you can
lie down on that bed over there?"

She looked over to the bed and saw all the machines and IV hookups surrounding it. That didn't look at all appealing to her seeing
that she had been hooked up to enough stuff recently.

She defiantly shook her head. "No. I just want you to take me home."

She left his protective embrace and proceeded to get up on her own, acting as if the last few minutes of her "insanity" had never
happened.

"You've got to be kidding me," Peter admonished while he watched her struggle to stand. He was half worried/half relieved that she
was so quickly returning to her usual stubborn self. "Olivia, you're severely dehydrated and your arm is broken. It needs to be set."

With a look of annoyance, she glanced down at her arm. "So grab me a coffee and let's go to the lab. Walter can set it."

"I don't think that's a good idea right now," Peter said as he gently led her over to the bed and helped her to sit on the edge of the
mattress. She was still giving him that stern look that nonverbally told him that she really didn't want to be here, but in her heart,
she knew he was right. She wasn't ready to see Walter's face again, regardless of which Walter it was.

Peter gazed at her tenderly, trying to convey all of the concern, worry, and fear that was still coursing through him. Taking her good
hand in his, he begged, "Please, Olivia, you've been through a lot...I mean, we didn't even know if you were dead or alive and God
only knows what they've...what he's...done to you..." He looked down at her hand he was holding and glanced at the restraint marks
on her wrist and all of the needle tracks on her arm. Anger boiled up inside him knowing that once again she was his father's lab rat
against her will. He felt queasy with uneasiness.

Olivia immediately pulled her hand back. She knew what he was looking at and it made her uncomfortable. Shutting her eyes, she
remembered every awful, horrifying, violating stab of that sharp needle intruding into her veins.

"Look, I'm going to stay here with you as long as it takes. You're safe here. Please, just let the doctor take a look at you and run some
tests so we can know that you're okay."

"Tests...no more tests..." she cringed.

"Olivia, we need to know," he said, imploring her by grasping her face with both hands. "I need to know."

The touch of his hands on her face did her in. There was something about his touch...so soothing, so calming. She could do this for him.

"Okay," she quietly agreed.