A/N:

I started this on Fringe's mini hiatus, because I just couldn't wait the two weeks for Entranda. Spoilers through Do Shapeshifts Dream of Electric Sheep?, but AU after there. All spelling/grammer mistakes are my own. No infringement intended (ha!), so please don't sue. I love reviews, though they're not required. They're just a nice little perk.

-S


He should have noticed the small differences: the way she carried herself, the subtle changes in her demeanor; her patience with Walter. He should have noticed them, but he didn't. How could he? They were the same person, at least variations of the same person. But rationalization didn't stop the gnawing guilt he felt whenever he thought about the passing months where he grew closer to Olivia Dunham from the alternate reality, (or rather his own reality) than he ever did with the Olivia Dunham that had traveled universes to save him in so many more ways than one. Now, realizing the treachery, he wasn't sure how to bridge the gap between the deception, lies and deceit.

"Yes," Peter Bishop thought sardonically, as he watched Astrid and Walter through the glass window looking intothe hospital room where Olivia Dunham, his Olivia Dunham, fought against the restraints holding her hands to the bed, her copper hair in wild tendrils over her shoulders,

"Welcome to hell."

Taking two long steps to the next room beside Olivia's, he peered grimly into the hospital room that contained the blonde hair of the Olivia Dunham that he had come to know in intimate detail. He knew she saw him, staring back at him, narrowed eyes and bowed head, smirking. She never looked so terrifying, Peter thought, arms bound to her bed, but she wasn't fighting against them. It was like she was waiting for something, like she alone had the hidden knowledge that could save them all. Her cold eyes found his, and Peter could feel his face burn under her gaze. Shaking his head against her scrutiny he turned on his heels and walked briskly back into the mess that was his existence.