Title: Never Too Late

Fandom: Fringe

Pairing: Peter/Olivia

A/N: This is the first fic I've ever posted, so I'm nervous…Don't be harsh, please…

"NOOOOO!"

His own voice sounded so far away to him. Like it was all a bad dream.

But it wasn't. He could feel his muscles working as he ran towards her. She was lying on the floor with a bullet planted in her forehead.

Just like he had seen after stepping into the machine. In that future they were married and happy, although their universe was falling apart. They decided to have a baby-actually, he thought that they were going to have a small tribe of Bishops. But Walternate decided to destroy his, Peter's, universe, because he had destroyed his biological father's universe. So, he shot Olivia right in the forehead and killed her.

But he, Peter Bishop, had changed that future, prevented it from happening. He had given her a chance to live. He had given himself a chance for a happy life.

He had been erased. She had brought him back without knowing it. He had endured three months of not being remembered by anyone merely because she was alive.

And she had remembered him. Because she was his Olivia. As always, they had found each other. They were together, happy, making plans for the future.

But now he was holding her in his arms, crying his heart out. He had saved her from that terrible future; so why was she dead now? Why was it too late?

Walter was there, but Peter growled to him through gritted teeth not to touch her. That man was his father. He had taken Peter from his universe, but only in order to save him. And he had. He had lost his biological son, but the other Peter, the one holding on to Olivia as though for dear life, was alive. And Walter had raised him. And Walter knew. He always knew how Peter felt about Olivia.

So how could he have shot her, when the mere idea of Peter and Olivia goi8ng out on a date had excited him a timeline ago? How could he slap Peter now so that he would listen to him?

Peter felt so numb, so empty, as if someone had put their hand in his chest and removed his heart. But his heart was useless now. It was broken, shattered into little pieces that didn't seem possible to be put back together again. His heart was beating, giving him life, whereas he didn't want it. Olivia was dead, and a part of him had died with her. He was but an empty shell now; no heart, no soul.

Walter had the hammer in his hand. Olivia looked as if she was sleeping, but Peter knew that this was just a trick, a twisted joke his blurry eyes were playing on him. He had touched her hand a few moments ago, just as she had done once before his tests at Massive Dynamic. But her hand was cold, lifeless.

When Walter pushed that bloody thing inside her skull, Peter winced. The bullet was out, covered in her precious blood. But her eyes were still closed. It was too late. It always was too late. That possible future had been a warning. Take care of her, or this will happen. But he hadn't taken care of her. And now she was dead. And that bullet was what he could keep as a reminder of her.

Fear and pain were enveloping him at the same time, threatening to choke him, crawling into his chest, making him a cold creature made of stone. There was no shred of hope for him. He was meant to live alone.

And then he noticed it. The wound was closing. There was only a drop of blood on Olivia's forehead now. And although there were still tears in his eyes, tears running down his cheeks, he was smiling. His hand was on Walter's shoulder, his head against his, as they both looked at Olivia. She had made another miracle happen.

It wasn't too late, after all. No, it was never too late.

Reviews, please? I want to know if I should keep writing or not…