Unsatisfied? A Fringe Fic by SJO
Note: Fox owns Fringe, not me. I realize this may not be accurate to Olivia's character, but I was just thinking about this scenes and had a few thoughts on it.
I can't believe it.
I can't believe it! He'd lecture me on that?
Anyone could've told Broyles that's the way I am. Charlie could've told him this. John could've told him. Astrid could've told him. Hey, by now probably Peter or Dr. Bishop could have said the same thing.
I'm never satisfied? You better believe it.
For crying out loud, this is the FBI. We're the spies that are supposed to know everything about everything. People think we know all their secrets and have them locked away. Isn't it natural not to be satisfied if you don't get every question answered? Isn't that our job? We're supposed to know the truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth.
The truth is out there . . . and the truth will set us free.
Free.
How can he not think about that? With every unanswered question, every riddle, every unsolved puzzle, someone is not free. People are in danger of being abused, or abducted, or . . . killed. As long as there's the Pattern, we are not free.
Like this gentleman who lives at Little Hill, it could be anybody. It could be John. It could be William Bell. It could be the President. It could be a demon. It could be my stepfather–
Unsatisfied? There's a reason I'm unsatisfied.
Isn't that the way it's supposed to work anyway? The spies always get their man. We save the day, justice is served, bad guy caught. Roll credits. Drop the curtain. Close the book. We're safe. We're free.
What does he think this is, a suspenseful cliffhanger on some late night TV drama?
But he's right. That's the way it's supposed to be, but its not. Evil is still out there, taunting us, daring us to follow. Someone else will get hurt. Someone else will probably die. We're not the good guys. We're the guys who get there too late.
Oh, I just wanna grab the loose threads in this Pattern and watch it unravel!
I guess that's what Broyles wants too. Maybe that's why he says it's my dissatisfaction that makes me so good. He knows, though, that it's gonna take a while.
Maybe he's got a point. Maybe I gotta learn to rejoice in the victories I do achieve. You know, I am relieved that I saved Loeb, and I hate the nightmare his wife went through. I worked so hard for them, and in the end, we got what we needed.
But I just can't shake this feeling. Call it worry, call it fear, call it dissatisfaction. It's just knowing that the demons are still out there, terrorizing innocent people and standing in the way of the truth.
My hunger and thirst for that truth is insatiable.
Will I ever be satisfied?