There are so many dark, sad, Post-Marionette FanFics online… about Peter running away, about Peter drinking too much, about Olivia running away… I like to read them but they make me sort of depressive.
What if… there is some hope?
My first English Fringe-Fanfiction
No inFRINGEment intended!
Rating: K
Spoiler: Season 3, Post-Marionette (Episode 3.09)
She wasn't me. How could you not see that? Now she's everywhere. She's in my house, my job, my bed, and I don't want to wear my clothes anymore, and I don't want to live in my apartment, and I don't want to be with you. She's taken everything.
He remained on the chair, lost in thoughts. She was right – he could have seen it, he should have! He did it for a living: reading people, seeing things others can't see. The little details, the differences, he did see them with his eyes, but not with his mind. He so much wanted to believe that she turned to be less burdened and much happier, that her whole life had changed because of him. Big mistake.
"Peter?"
Walter was standing right in front of him.
"Agent Dunham seemed to be in a hurry to leave… is everything ok, son?"
Peter realized that there was no more urge to struggle against the word 'son'. Despite of origin or biological matters this man did love him like a real father used to love his own son.
"You were totally wrong, Walter."
"Wrong? About what?"
Peter gave him a faint smile. "She wasn't replaced by a robot."
"Oh! That… what did she say?"
"She doesn't want to be with me."
"I'm very sorry, Peter."
The older Bishop settled down on the chair next to the younger one.
"You don't have to – I think it's' a kind of progress. At least she admits her feelings. I didn't really expect her to be ok with it in no time."
"You are a wise man."
"No. Not at all. I messed it up, took the wrong words telling her what happened while she was trapped on the other side… I wasn't prepared to… . But it's simple psychology 101. Dealing with a loss follows a road - denial, anger, fighting… till you come to terms with it. Until you are able to deal with it, you have to go through all these stages. What really bothers me is the fact that I can't help her sorting it out, because I'm a part of the problem. The source of all the events."
"I know such feelings very well, Peter. There is not much you can do now – you have to be patient. She is strong, one day she will understand that both of you were the victims of a war. A collateral damage, so to say."
"Yeah, right. But for now… we should go and buy your milkshake, Walter."
Peter got up to his feet with a sudden verve and headed towards the car. Walter hesitated for a few seconds before following him slowly, leaving some distance between them.
"And what stage of grief are you on, my son?" he asked sadly in a low voice.