Hello lovely people! I know I'm supposed to be working on Strange right now, and I am, but the set photos were released. And they're driving me insane.
Also, my wonderful twitter friends, whom I love dearly (you know who you are 3), and I have been obsessively discussing our mighty love of Peter WHUMP.
So, put those two things together in my brain, and this comes out. Plus I was in a really shit mood & decided that it was a good idea to take it out on Peter & Olivia (mostly Peter, because it's hotttttttt). According to whomever tweets as Peter I'm a sadist, which I will vehemently deny. Although, maybe I am, just a little, when it comes to Peter Bishop. BUT CAN YOU BLAME ME?
DISCLAIMER: I don't own FRINGE.
This was getting ridiculous, she thought to herself. She had been in this maddeningly dark cell for however long. She didn't know. All she knew was that it was time to get out of here. But how? She began pacing as her thoughts compelled her body into motion. Apparently, it was supposed to help. She wasn't one for just sitting around and waiting anyway. Suddenly, it hit her, like a ton of bricks. There was no normal way out of this cell, trust her, she'd searched and searched, combed every damned centimeter for any weak spot, and had come up with nothing. But thankfully for her, she wasn't normal. Cortexiphan. If the drug gave her the ability to travel between universes, then certainly she could use it to travel within one, right? Right. The drug works mainly on perception, so she just had to perceive different surroundings. That's essentially what she had done with the others and Walter. She'd have to get scared first. But she wasn't scared that time. Oh, but you were, she argued with herself. You were scared, scared of losing…him…forever. Peter. Her mind trailed off.
He was home now, so to speak. He was with…her. The other one was there, and she was here. She wasn't necessarily worried about Walter, or Astrid. Or even Rachel and Ella, for that matter. Her alternate would have to be completely incompetent to even consider harming any of them. She would certainly be found out if she did. Besides, Olivia didn't think her alternate would be able to hurt her sister, after she had lost her own over here. She knew for a fact that Peter wouldn't be in any danger of dying either, but only because Walternate needed him. Olivia did worry though, about Peter not noticing, taking things too far with… Stop. Stop, stop, stop. She absent-mindedly scratched at a non-existent itch on her arm. Focus. Fear. Be scared.
Initially, she had been scared of being locked up in this cell, on this side, by Walternate. She had been scared when they began taking her out to a room full of odd-looking medical equipment, strapping her down, and doing who knows what. She fought it every time. She refused to give up, give in to defeat. She wouldn't give him that pleasure. She was stronger than that. She had, however, stopped begging to be released. She was above begging. After the first several times, she'd just meet Walternate's cold stare with a fiery glare, which seemed to agitate him to the point where he stopped coming to see her. He'd tried questioning her, but she refused to answer any of his questions, which further irritated him. So, yes, at first she had been scared, but now, she was just increasingly annoyed. It frustrated her. She stopped pacing and plopped down in her cell. Well, what now? She let out a heavy sigh as she leaned her head back against the wall of her cell and closed her eyes. Then, something completely unexpected happened.
She was sitting at the bottom of a set of stone steps, with Walter? Her Walter. The nice one. He was rambling on about the deliciousness of coffee cake and how fantastic those little crumbs on it were. He had some in a brown bag. Apparently Peter had stopped on the way here to get him some. She tried to look around, but couldn't. She didn't see Peter anywhere. She momentarily wondered what was going on, until she realized she'd experienced this before. She was seeing through her alternate's eyes, except this time was different. She didn't feel in control at all. She was merely observing. She watched as Walter stood, and felt her alternate follow suit. Upon turning around, she was greeted with a familiar and comforting site. Peter. In a suit. Olivia felt a sharp in-take of breath that was all her own, while her alternate smiled. She heard them speaking.
"So," her alternate questioned flirtatiously, "how'd it go?"
Peter shrugged at her, smiling, "We got the funding." He was excited, proud. He should be. He continued, "The committee was reluctant at first, obviously, until I explained to them the full extent of what we're dealing with here."
"That's splendid!" she heard Walter exclaim.
"Good for you," she heard a voice so very similar to hers tell Peter, while placing a hand on his arm.
Peter looked at Walter, who promptly dismissed himself, leaving Peter alone with her alternate. Peter watched Walter walk away, and then locked his gaze on hers again.
"I wish you would've gone in there with me," he spoke softly, smiling at her again.
"I know," she said, frowning apologetically, then playfully, "but I thought the whole 'business deal' end was your forte."
They shared a laugh. And then Olivia watched as Peter's hand curled itself under her alternate's chin, tilted her face up towards his, and placed a sweet kiss on her lips. Several seconds later, his arm was wrapped around her alternate and hers around him, and she heard Peter tell the wrong her, "Come on." as they walked off, smiling and laughing.
Olivia forced her eyes open and let out an indignant scream. She was incensed, furious. She was also upset and dare she admit it, a tiny bit scared. But that was a good thing. Focus on these feelings, she instructed herself. Feel, Dunham. Feel. So she stood, and embraced her feelings. Every last one of them. Closing her eyes again, she pictured herself outside, out of this cell, free. Olivia felt a tingling sensation rip through her entire being, and when she opened her eyes, she was in the middle of a bustling street in New York City, arms out in front of her, in hospital attire. She was starting to draw attention to herself, so she quickly darted into the nearest clothing store that she found. She managed to conceal herself amongst the customers and clothing racks fairly well. She grabbed a pair of jeans, a blouse, a coat, and boots. She casually entered the dressing room, removed every last tag and sensor on the clothing, and refused to think about how or even why she had obtained such nefarious shop-lifting skills. When she exited the store without turning a single head, or setting off any alarms, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She knew where she needed to head next.
She grabbed a newspaper off of a stand without anyone noticing, and was beginning to think that the citizens over on this side were slightly dense, until she realized they were preoccupied. She glanced around her and she saw dozens of people, shouting and screaming. They all looked angry and disgusted. There were several police officers trying to calm the riotous crowd of protesters. She listened for a moment to see what exactly was going on. It was an anti-quarantine demonstration. Apparently, Fringe Division and their methods of containing incidents over here were not looked upon with favor by the general public. She instantly regretted stopping to listen when she saw a cop notice her. He hurried over to her, speaking breathlessly with relief, "Agent Dunham! Agent Dunham! Oh thank God!" She looked at him. "These people are getting out of control. We are trying our best, but our efforts to quell them are only making them angrier. We need your help." Great. "Uh," she stalled. "As you can see," she glanced over her casual attire, "I'm currently off-duty at the moment, but" she looked around and saw Charlie, along with the man who had shot Nick, "Agent Francis has just arrived, and I'm sure he'll be happy to help you." She smiled at the man and turned before he could object. She could almost swear that she heard him mutter "Bitch" under his breath, which satisfied her to no end for a reason she didn't understand.
When she arrived at the opera house, she noticed that it was closed. Roped off, obviously to keep the public out, as it was the site of a major Fringe event. None of the very few people meandering the streets even thought twice as she entered the place. The street itself was mostly dead, everyone in the immediate area was held up in the protest, including all of the law enforcement officials, something for which Olivia was truly thankful. She jogged up to the stage and stood in the center, just like she had before. She held her arms out. She concentrated. She could do this alone. She was the strongest after all, right? She focused all of her energy and all of her emotions on one thought, home. She closed her eyes when everything started to spin. She felt dizzy and stumbled, and then everything stopped. A sense of calm overwhelmed her and she began breathing heavily. When her breathing slowed to normal, she opened her eyes. The dark, dilapidated, empty, broken-down theater that greeted her eyes seemed so beautiful to her. She did it. She was back.
Chapter 2 is written. It will be posted per your request ;)