Disclaimer: I do not own Fringe and make no profit from this work of fiction.
Spoilers: I wrote this after watching the promo for 4.09. This is my take.

She has to get him.

The truck passes through the portal device and she slams into a water tower. The last thing she remembers is herself pulling her out of the rubble.

Jerking awake she's in the lab, but not. Things are much messier, for starters, and Walter's room is an office: two desks shoved together near the back. The bookcases were full, science journals, entertwined with her profiling books. She kept those at the FBI office because she knew Walter start self-dosing anytime he saw a profile that hit too close to home. They also weren't in alphabetical order but by case which was a stupid idea that must have been Peter's. Her favorite coffee mug was on the one side and she could see someone else's right next to it. Someone had placed her on the couch and she was pretty sure her right arm was broken.

"Walter? Astrid?"

Astrid popped her head around the corner and she looked relieved, "Walter checked your hair for red dye and we sealed the breach. Olivia, my Olivia said we couldn't take you back to headquarters because she didn't think that Broyles would like a third Olivia on his hands."

"Thanks. Is Olivia around? I need to talk to her about Peter."

Astrid's eyes start to water, and sniffles, "Peter disappeared when we turned on the machine. She's distraught, we told her there was a tear and that was the only thing that got her out of bed."

To be honest she's not paying attention. When you had a photographic memory you tended to memorize new surroundings rather quickly. The desk clock next to the makeshift mass spectrometer said it was noon. Walter could not be seen/heard/smelled so that must mean he was out at lunch. Walter was out of the lab. Maybe the Deli off 3rd. Maybe he hated the place. Astrid was on babysitting duty and if her half-eaten salad was any indication she was worried. There was no sign of Lincoln anywhere- not his area, not his extra pair of glasses. She and Peter have a life together, they share an office. There's a picture of the two of them on the wall, laughing at something and she looks at him the way he looks at her.

"My Walter never leaves the lab." The chuckle is dry but she decides she likes the office more like this, "He has an old TV and a sleeper sofa and I have to stop and get him red vines before I come in otherwise he pouts at me for hours. And I cave because he's stuck here. I didn't ask for this you know, my life was manageable until Peter showed up."

"So was mine," Astrid smiles knowingly. Something tells her that this Astrid was very similiar to her own, "I'd tell you to rest but I don't think you'd listen."

"I need to talk to Olivia."

Her Black SUV is not in the parking lot, so they take Astrid's. Not that she could drive here anyway, apparently. The car ride is in the wrong direction and much too short of a trip. The Bishop House in her universe was tattered and abandoned, weeds growing out front. This house had been freshly painted, had new windows and looked much more homey. They would probably plant tulips in the spring, a bright set of reds that complement the house.

Astrid senses her apprehension,"She's been staying at the Bishop House. After she was put on leave of absence she started cleaning."

Olivia decided not to ask about the leave. There is no way she'd ever take a leave willingly, let alone at Broyles insistence.

The house is immaculate, new flooring, new paint, new furniture. Not one speck of dust, there was a new kitchen countertop and fixtures. Astrid motions towards the stairs and the two of them ascend towards the master bedroom. The hallway was lined with pictures, her as a girl, Ella, Rachel, a little boy that must be Peter. For some reason it struck her as odd, her alternate self living in this house.

With Peter.

And Walter.

He was mildly-annoying at best, so casual about everything, so unaffected. And Walter being Walter at all hours of the night would probably drive a normal person insane. The two of them together would be a handful and the two of them would probably make it work. Who knew? They probably had three kids in the master plan. They were in love. The sentimental part of her was happy for them. Rooting for them, even. But the realist in her knew that the last person she loved had betrayed them and there was no way she could trust someone like that again.

Olivia knocks on the door, three quick raps before entering. She was not expecting the warm colors or antique lamps. It was out of a magazine; the wallpaper was expensive and matched the carpet, the bedspread matching the lamps. It was like fall exploded in the room and it was beautiful, the sun really made the room look amazing. And there was her other self, curled into a ball asleep in the middle of the bed. In the middle of the day.

Before she even approaches the bed, Olivia bolts awake screaming. It was an interesting perspective of events, the screams sounded foreign, the heaping sobs definitely did not. Whatever scared her was in her dreams, her intrusion practically going unnoticed. The cries stop almost immediately upon their eyes meeting and she exhales the rest of her shaking away.

"I knew someone would come."

Olivia's mouth isn't moving but somehow she knows her alternate is speaking to her. She also realizes her other self must be crazy because she'd seen hours of her self being recorded; interviews, and at trial. She had a certain composure that her own alternate shared and this woman was not her. Messy hair aside, she looked defeated. This was an awkward situation but she needed the other woman's help to get home. Comforting, unfortunately, was not one of her strong suits.

Their 'conversation' is short, she does her best to assure her that Peter is alright and that David Robert Jones needed to be stopped. Olivia doesn't seem surprised at the news and calmly dismisses her before curling back into her ball. She had the distinct feeling that Olivia slept in the middle of her bed to avoid rolling over and realizing Peter would be missing. Her heart breaks a little at that, but then she also gets the feeling to take her badge and car keys from the drawer in the kitchen.

As she was leaving, Olivia noticed an IV bag shoved in the garbage with a little label reading 'Cortexiphan', along with several needles. She wasn't sure what that was but it was probably dangerous.

She makes a mental note to not return.