This is my first Fringe fic – its based off of a few sentences that Walter and Olivia exchange at the end of Episode 2 – so it does contain spoilers. Tell me what you think!


'My God,' she thought to herself. 'What has he done?'

Olivia Dunham stared at Dr. William Bishop, and it took every ounce of training she had to keep her mouth from dropping open. What had he just said? What…what had he done?

"About my former colleague and his son – its one of the inherent pit falls of being a scientist - trying to maintain that distinction between God's domain and our own. Sometimes I forget myself – but then you already know that."

She had paused, knowing she was looking at him strangely, finally responding, "What do you mean?"

"If you've read my file, then you know the truth – about Peter's medical history. I've been meaning to ask you…"

"Walter, there was no mention of any medical history – just his birthday," she had said, feeling herself gasping for air inside.

Olivia looked past Walter Bishop's shoulder to the hunched form of Peter Bishop. His shoulders were tense, just having refused to sign the government waiver. As if he could feel her eyes on him, he turned briefly. Her eyes held his for a moment. Green. Walter had said that when Peter was born, his eyes were green. Unique from the start. Ninety two percent of Caucasian babies were born with blue eyes. But not Peter.

Her attention shot back to William Bishop.

"Oh. I was going to ask you just to keep it between just the two of us, but then I suppose there is no need." He was asking her to keep that little sentence between them. He looked at her expectantly, like a child that realized if the no one knew the truth, he wasn't in trouble after all, even though he'd just confessed to the kind aunt, the one who would protect him. But how could she? How could she even keep her jaw from dropping open? 'My God," she thought again. 'He can't be serious. What has he done to Peter?'

All she could do was nod. There was no other recourse.

She glanced back at Peter, suddenly terrified, suddenly understanding the strange and difficult relationship that he had with his father. And suddenly she realized that this was quite possibly just the tip of the iceberg.

After all, until a short time ago, Peter Bishop had viewed his father as a strange, eccentric man who had torn up a family over toothpaste research. And then, after years of distrust, anger, and unresolved father-son issues, he was faced with a world where his father was nothing short of a mad scientist.

Olivia couldn't blame him now. She couldn't look past this latest information. Now she knew why Peter couldn't call him father or dad. Now she knew why he simply called his own flesh and blood Walter.

She thought of the way Peter was with his father. How he acted annoyed, but how he'd really stepped up to the task of helping – of guiding his wayward, lost and confused father through a frightening new world neither Olivia nor Peter had known existed. Walter had known. But now he was the one that needed help to face it. Now Walter was the one that had to be guided back into his dubious work. And Peter, who was most likely more at home facing the dangers of modern day Iraq with car bombings and kidnappings, was now tasked with taking care of his half crazy, half brilliant father.

Olivia looked back at Peter, still hunched over what he was pretending to do, obviously still thinking of her request to sign the waiver. She knew then that she couldn't tell him. Whatever fragile peace he had come to with Walter would be seriously damaged if not destroyed. And what could she say? Peter, I'm sorry, but I think your father experimented on you as a child? No. She couldn't say that. Especially not without proof. And of course, there was always the chance that Walter was just rambling. It wasn't as if he was all there – completely in control of his faculties. Perhaps he was just rambling, putting himself in Dr. Penrose's shoes. Olivia could only hope.

She had come to like Peter – she had come to trust him – and she was surprised at that, so soon after she had been betrayed by someone else, she was shocked she trusted so easily again. She had even come to like Walter – his lost and confused demeanor, broken by pure moments of genius was endearing.

No. She couldn't tell Peter what his father had just said. But, God, what had Walter done? What had he done to his beautiful and intelligent child? She could only wonder, and hope she would never know.