She'd been avoiding him for nearly a week. It was hard to look at him. He was fucking flickering. Or glimmering, or whatever the hell other sort of jacked-up verb Walter wanted to use. He didn't belong in her universe. The weird thing was, he wasn't flickering when he opened the door. Then she got a look at what he was wearing. He was dressed for a date, and, while she wasn't exactly surprised, that scared her, and then he flickered.
They made it through drinks…barely. Peter could tell something was amiss. She could see it in his eyes when he walked her to her door. The ever-present mischief in his eyes was gone. Disappointment and confusion replaced it. She was hurting him, she knew that, but whatever Walter had done was hurting both of them.
She hadn't been able to face Walter either. She didn't want to hear his excuses. This was ruining everything, and was possibly responsible for the coming apocalypse.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when her phone started ringing. "Dunham," she answered shortly.
"Olivia! Something's wrong!"
"Peter, what—where are you?"
"The floor is shaking. Walter's freaking out. He said they're coming, said you should know."
"Peter, where are you?" she demanded.
"Our house!"
"I'm on my way."
She called Astrid and Broyles en route to the Bishop's house. The house was flickering from the inside when she screeched to a halt. It had stopped by the time she broke through the door. Walter was sprawled on the floor, bleeding from a gash on his head.
"Walter! Walter!" she said, kneeling next to him and pulling him to a sitting position.
"They took him," the older man wimpered. "They took my boy!"
"Who did? Walter, where's Peter?"
"They took him back!"
"What happened here?"
"I don't know exactly, but I think soldiers or whatever from the other side came and took Peter back with them."
"We'll leave how for later. A more pressing question for the moment would be why?"
Olivia shook her head, and looked over at Walter. Astrid was sitting on the couch with him while the forensics guys buzzed all around. He was muttering incoherently and pushing away all of Astrid's attempts to get through to him. Olivia took a deep breath and forced her gaze back toward Broyles.
"They were taking him back," she explained simply.
"Obviously, but why?"
"You don't understand. They were taking Peter back where he came from."
"Agent Dunham, what are you saying?"
"Peter was glimmering the last time I saw him."
She saw the look of shock on Broyles' almost always-implacable features. She turned away and knelt down right in front of the elder Bishop.
"Walter, I need you to look at me. Walter!"
"I'm not even sure he's in there anymore, Agent Dunham," Astrid whispered, gently rubbing the older man's shoulders.
"Walter, I don't care how you did it," she told him quietly. "I know why you did it. I understand, Walter. You wanted your son back."
He finally met her gaze and nodded slightly. Olivia squeezed his hand and continued, "But why have they come for him now? The universe could have taken him anytime in the last twenty-five years. People did this. Why now?"
"I don't know. I don't know," Walter repeated, tears streaming down his face.
Olivia growled through gritted teeth as she ran her hands through her hair as she stood and turned away from him. She jerked her head toward a glimmer at the base of the stairs.
"Wait!" she yelled at the tech that was about to sample the source of the glimmer. "Walter, was Peter wounded before they took him?"
"I-I-I don't know."
"This is blood, and it's not from this side," she said, pointing to the spot.
Walter slowly stood and came closer. "I don't believe Peter was wounded," he concluded reluctantly. "He-he was fighting them. He's not the most compliant person in the world, you know."
"I know, Walter."
"Someone bring me a Geiger counter."
"What are you thinking, Walter?" Olivia asked as a tech rushed to fetch the equipment Walter requested.
"Peter's blood wouldn't be radioactive from crossing over anymore, but this could be from his attacker. I need the Geiger counter to know more."
"What good would analyzing the attacker's blood do?" Broyles asked.
"I won't know until I analyze it," Walter hissed back as the tech handed him the Geiger counter.
The fast clicking sped up until the clicks melded into a buzz as Walter waved it over the pool of blood. His expression became grim as he said, "This is the blood of someone recently crossed over from the other side. I need samples at my lab right away."
The headache, the nausea, and the sticky, wet feeling on the side of his face told him he's taken a blow to the head. The voices he heard sounded like they were coming from underwater. He forced his eyes open and swallowed an involuntary groan. Straps across his forehead, chest, wrists, and ankles kept him secured to an uncomfortable chair. An IV went into one arm. Various other sensors and wires were attached to his chest and head.
He didn't recognize some of the equipment. As a matter of fact, he didn't recognize most of the equipment. Everything felt wrong. He couldn't remember much except flashes of light and men in strange uniforms. Whatever the hell was going on, Olivia would figure it out. That's what she always did.
A/N: So...my first Fringe fic. Will probably be a few chapters long. Hope I did the characters justice.
