Author's Note: So. This one goes out to Wheresmyluce. Because she accidently put the idea in my head, wouldn't let it die when I tried to kill it, and is therefore more or less responsible for its existence. Happy birthday, Luce-deficient one. This one's on you, for better or worse, so I hope you like it.

Now. This is what happens when I don't have the time or mental energy to start on the real sequel to '9 Crimes' yet. I'd call this one a sort of epilogue to that story. But as you'll see, I'm skipping ahead from where that one left off. And through the magic of multiple timelines, multiple universes (and mostly just creative license), I'm giving myself an out here. If I reference past events in this one, there's no guarantee that they will play out that way in the real sequel, where I go back and fill in the blanks. Many timelines, multiple universes, this is just one possible version of how things could play out.

A few last bits of business. I shamelessly stole/reworked things from the recent Fringe promos. Also. This one has a lot more references to Fringe elements/events than 'Crimes' did. And in my world, we didn't have the disappearance/timeline reset at the close of season 3. Length-wise, this will have at least another chapter, possibly two or three, depending on if I feel like writing and if you guys feel like reading Finally, if you didn't read my first Sarah/Olivia fic (gasp), you'll probably do okay with this one, though there are a few references back to it.

Sorry for the long AN, but I felt the explanations were needed this time. Thanks for reading, reviews are much appreciated. And a very happy birthday to Wheresmyluce. Since this is her fault, please forward any hate mail to her. Lol.


"You know what I think?" Olivia asked. Her voice was calm and easy, like everything today. The sky was clear, the weather warm, but they still had this section of the playground to themselves, and the whole world felt peaceful.

Next to her on the park bench, Sarah took her eyes away from Ella and Savannah, giving her attention to Olivia. The redhead and Olivia's niece were on the swings together, settling an argument over who could go the highest. Their shrieks of laughter filled the air, and Sarah continued to listen as green eyes met green. "What's that?"

"I think that I could stay here the rest of my life and be happy."

Sarah considered that, lips curving in a smile. "You maybe, I don't know about your sister though. Didn't she want Ella back by four?"

Olivia returned the smile, lacing her fingers together with Sarah's. The gesture, small as it was, probably would've made her uneasy in a different situation. There were an abundance of idiotic people in the world, and as a rule, neither she nor Sarah were big on public displays of affection. But no one was paying the slightest bit of attention, and Olivia was too relaxed to care either way. Sarah's hand in hers only increased the feelings of contentment. This sort of happiness still felt new to Olivia, and she meant to savor every bit of it.

The warmth lasted for another few seconds before it was replaced by ice cold dread. Because she and Sarah looked back at the girls at the same time, saw the threat at the same time. They weren't alone anymore. From nowhere and everywhere came the men with the unnaturally pale skin, a sharp contrast to their dark suits. The hats were in place, as usual. They always looked the same. What was different, what made it all wrong, there were so many of them. Ten, fifteen, every time Olivia blinked there were more.

It wasn't only their numbers, or the fact that she hadn't seen one of them in years. Nor was it the fact that her previous encounters with them rarely ended well. It was the looks they wore. The faces were blank as always, yet they weren't. Olivia didn't know what they wanted after all this time, but their faces showed some form of intent. And, she knew this with certainty, whatever their purpose here, it didn't mean good things for her. Or anyone.

It was a big park, lots of families scattered around. Apparently they too recognized the danger, because people who'd been wrapped up in their own lives a few seconds earlier were now joined in a single purpose. Escape. Parents were running for their kids, scooping them up and bolting. Kids that had been screaming with laughter or excitement were now screaming for real. And the Observers were headed straight for Sarah and Olivia. They'd reach the girls first though.

Savannah and Ella had stopped their contest, but were frozen in place. They stood by the swings, apparently in shock as they watched the Observers move ever closer. Olivia ran for them, called to them. Sarah was at her side, doing the same. But there was an invisible force pushing against them, slowing their progress to almost nothing. Olivia wasn't sure the girls could hear them. Her own hearing was fine though, and she heard the bomb before seeing its terrible effects.

There was a noise, louder than the cries of panic. The sky was too bright. Her eyes burned and Olivia screamed Then the wave of cold that'd hit her on seeing the Observers was replaced by a wave of scorching heat. The explosions followed, the sky caught fire, and in a millisecond, so did everything else.

The blast wave hit the Observers first, turning their clothes and their too-pale skin into ash. And in the place of fabric and flesh, there was metal. Eyes that had always looked human, regardless of their lack of emotions, those eyes glowed red now. After the façade was ripped away from the Observers, the bomb did its work on the rest of them. People writhed and screamed as the wave hit, burning them to nothing. Then Olivia screamed, because the fire found the girls. She watched her niece and the redhead she'd come to love get obliterated. She screamed and screamed, knew Sarah was screaming too, but she couldn't hear her own voice, or Sarah's. Ella and Savannah, she heard them perfectly.

It all happened so fast, yet it seemed to take forever. She had time to rebel, at least in her head. They stopped it. They stopped it. It couldn't be happening. But it was. The girls were dead. In another moment, Olivia would join them. The world would join them. She had time to find Sarah's eyes, find her own horror and anguish mirrored there. She'd let go of the brunette's hand when the Observers came. She found it now, clutched it tight, resolved that she would die looking into the warmth of Sarah's eyes, not at the hellfire that would be her undoing. Then the fire came for her, and she knew nothing else.


She didn't scream when she woke up. She wanted to, came close, but ended up biting the inside of her cheek instead. The silence was a reflex, a learned response. She'd had to be silent as a child, when her stepfather hit her and promised to do worse to her mother and sister if she spoke of it. Her first roommate in college almost asked for a transfer because Olivia and her nightmares were interrupting the other girl's beauty sleep. Since then, Olivia learned to be quiet, even after the nightmares.

The images from this one remained seared onto her eyelids, the same way her flesh had been seared off in the dream. Not for the first time, Olivia cursed her unnaturally perfect memory. She hadn't screamed, but her breath came hard and fast and she had to struggle for long moments to get it under control. She did that, then almost hyperventilated all over again because Sarah's side of the bed was empty. Another few seconds and she was okay again, though they weren't seconds she wished to repeat any time soon. A quick touch told her that the space to her left was still warm and Olivia shifted until she was in Sarah's domain. Pressing her cheek against the brunette's pillow, Olivia breathed in the familiar scent and forced herself to relax. She knew Sarah was here. The sheets were a clue, but not the main one. That was just an instinct, a sense. It had nothing to do with sights or sounds and everything to do with years of knowing the woman and sharing a home with her.

Fighting to replace the images of the nightmare with much-preferred thoughts of her lover, Olivia left their bed, trying not to shiver as the cool air mingled with the cold sweat brought on by the dream.

The light streaming into the brownstone's windows told Olivia that dawn was fast approaching, though she could've made her way through the place even in pitch dark. Nightmares were more Sarah's curse than hers, and having to search out the brunette during the wee hours wasn't unusual. She'd complain sometimes, share memories of the machine she claimed to loathe, how Cameron had thudded through the house all night. Olivia wondered if she recognized the irony, if Sarah even realized how much time she spent pacing their home like a caged animal. The place was fairly big, several steps up from her old apartment, and much nicer than they should've been able to afford.

She and Sarah had shared a lot of jokes over the unexpected benefits of saving the world. There couldn't be any public recognition, no medals or commendations. There was an extremely generous pay raise for Olivia, facilitated by Broyles, though he'd never admit it. Nor would he admit knowledge of Olivia's ties to a woman still considered a terrorist.

Rewards for saving the world, not that Sarah and Olivia had been the only ones. Walter, Astrid, Peter. Even the doubles from the other side. When Peter made that speech about the need to unite the two worlds, Olivia had never expected the others to listen, never expected the peace to last. Then again, she'd had trouble believing that J-Day was preventable, especially after learning about all that the Connors had lost while trying to accomplish that. But Fringe Division had taught her that nothing was impossible, even if it seemed impossibly difficult.

April of 2011 came and went and there were no bombs, no nuclear winters, no billion-plus death toll. To top it off, after years of hardship, they were actually able to heal much of the damage caused by Walter's little trip in 1985. The two worlds remained separate, but the bridge formed four years ago held them together. And, grudgingly or not, the peace had held as well.

She found Sarah by a window in the living room, staring intently at the world outside. Olivia hung back a moment, silently studying the other woman. If anything had seemed more impossible than preventing the nuclear holocaust or the collapse of two universes, it was the idea of the two of them working out. But pain was a great bonding agent, and they'd both had more than enough of that. They'd lost far too much between them, and risking the loss of someone else hadn't been appealing to either of them. The only thing Olivia could think was that their separate emotional blocks had managed to cancel each other out.

And then there was the sex, the other thing that served to bring them together in the first place. The sex was great, and that was definitely a point in their favor.

"Enjoying the view?"

There was a smirk in Sarah's voice and Olivia returned it as she crossed to her lover. Wasn't her fault. The shorts Sarah chose to sleep in weren't especially loose, and her always-wild hair was especially appealing when it had that sleep-tussled look. Sarah had also mentioned the cyborg's propensity for walking around in her underwear. If Sarah was going to adapt the machine's practices, Olivia sort of wished she'd give that one a try. But Sarah could actually feel cold, and Olivia didn't want to deal with the full sting of her wrath, so she kept her mouth shut. Barely. "Very much. Enjoying yours?"

Sarah made a noise that could've signaled agreement as Olivia's arms found her neck and shoulders, encircling them in a loose hold.

"Bedroom has windows. They have a view too, remember?" Olivia asked resting her chin atop Sarah's shoulder. "I remember distinctly, because the realtor seemed to think that view was worth quite a bit of money."

Sarah's hands went up, covering the blonde's with her own. "And while she was selling the windows, realtor forgot to mention the heating in here." Turning in place, Sarah moved until she was facing the other woman. "You're freezing," she added, running her hands down the length of Olivia's arms before encasing her hands again.

"And you're not?" Olivia questioned, raising an eyebrow at the goose bumps that were clearly visible, even in this light.

"I'm used to it," Sarah replied, a frown marring her features as she got a proper look at Olivia. "You all right?"

Olivia shrugged, avoiding a direct response. "Nightmare."

Frown deepening, Sarah cupped Olivia's cheek, offering a soft but thorough kiss. "Thought that was my department," said Sarah, moving her lips until they rested against Olivia's temple.

Sarah's palm was still on her cheek and Olivia leaned into it, only then noticing the bruises on Sarah's knuckles. Pulling back slightly, Olivia took the brunette's hand in hers, examining it. Sarah's other hand rested on Olivia's hip, and a cursory look confirmed similar damage. Shaking her head, the blonde took the hand that rested on her cheek, brought it to her lips. After giving the other one equal treatment, "Is it that hard to use the tape?"

Sarah shrugged again, lips twisting in a wry smile. "I've hit things much harder than that punching bag."

"True. You've also broken your hand."

"True."

"You ever going to quit looking for a fight?"

The tiny smile disappeared. "Not looking," she refuted.

Olivia repressed a sigh. Waiting then. Expecting. She didn't blame Sarah, particularly after what her own subconscious had just come up with. Still, it got difficult sometimes.

"I've gotten better," Sarah stated, apparently reading Olivia's expression. "I'm trying," she added.

There was something like a plea there, a rarity from the brunette, and it broke Olivia's heart. "I know," she asserted, eyes cutting briefly to the chair near the window. No gun this time. And she'd stopped carrying it when Savannah was with them, when Ella visited. That brought the unwelcome images back to the surface, and Olivia had to find Sarah's gaze in order to steady herself. The girls were twelve now, long past the days of swings and playgrounds. Lately their idea of fun was to drag the women shopping and pester Olivia about expanding her wardrobe beyond the usual work suits.

"What was the dream about?" Sarah asked, concern lacing her voice.

"I don't know. Don't remember," Olivia said, the lie spilling out before she could stop it.

Sarah made a small noise of disbelief. "You remember everything."

"Come to bed with me and maybe I'll remember."

Olivia's voice was warm, teasing, but Sarah still looked away, glancing out the window again. "In a few minutes."

This time Olivia didn't try to stop herself from sighing.

"Sun will be up in a few minutes," Sarah persisted. "I'll be fine then. Just a few minutes."

The words came out half desperate and half defensive, and something else broke inside of Olivia as the other woman turned to face the window instead of her. The brunette had been saying 'just a few minutes' for a few years now.

"I'm trying," Sarah repeated, still not looking at the blonde.

"I know," said Olivia. Facing the window herself, she cautiously brought her hand to Sarah's back, rubbing gentle circles against tight muscles. When some of the tension started to ease, she continued her ministrations elsewhere, arm moving up until it was draped across Sarah's shoulders. Shifting closer until she was pressed against Sarah's side, Olivia was heartened when the other woman let out a breath before restring her head against the blonde's shoulder.

"You're still cold," Sarah stated, guilt clear in her voice.

"So are you." A pause. Then Olivia brought her mouth to Sarah's ear, gently brushing her lips against the lobe. "I know you're trying," she said softly, punctuating the words with a gentle squeeze to Sarah's shoulders. "Try now. Try trusting me when I tell you the sun will come up again, even if you're not watching for it."

Nothing for a moment. Then Sarah's lips found Olivia's neck, her chin. She planted small kisses before finding the blonde's lips, lingering there for much longer. And then she smiled a little and held her hand out, and Olivia followed her back to the bedroom.


"I shouldn't be doing this," Sarah stated, setting a plate of food and a cup of coffee in front of Olivia. "First morning to ourselves in weeks and it still feels like I'm working."

The quirk of Sarah's lips bellied her words, and Olivia smiled herself, briefly touching her hand to Sarah's. The blonde had made breakfast, as per usual, Sarah had offered to serve, and Olivia wasn't going to let false griping on the brunette's part spoil her good mood. "I've told you before, I think that diner is tougher on you than the Bureau is on me."

Sarah pulled a slightly sour expression before heading back toward the stove. Time hadn't totally erased her unease with the other woman's occupation, never mind the protection offered by Broyles. "Bureau runs you ragged. Just that it's slightly less ragged than they used to, so you think you're on vacation."

Olivia chuckled at that before indulging in her first sip of coffee for the day. The bridge had helped stabilize the world Over There, but Olivia wasn't certain that it hadn't fixed things here as well. Whether it was due to newfound synchronicity between the two universes, or simply because the ripples from Walter's deeds could only go on for so long, fringe events had almost become non-issues. Since Peter stepped into the machine, the amount of unexplainable phenomena on this side had slowly tapered off. Then came last year, when Fringe Division officially ceased to exist. That brought an unexpected sense of loss, but nothing that wasn't bearable. She stayed on at the Bureau, returned to the profiling she'd always been so skilled at. Astrid was there too, so Olivia didn't have to worry about losing touch with the other agent. Walter's initial devastation at losing the Harvard lab was soothed by the fact that the whole of Massive Dynamic was under his control. Not that Walter cared about anything outside of the science division, which he took full advantage of. Fortunately he had Nina Sharp to keep him from running the company into the ground, and Peter to keep him from blowing the building up or otherwise killing anyone during his experiments.

"And the restaurant isn't ridiculously tough on you?" Olivia asked, setting her cup down and bringing a forkful of eggs to her mouth. Career differences aside, the blonde knew that her long hours at headquarters weren't the only reason they hadn't seen enough of each other lately.

"Diner is tough on me because I'm the only one there who doesn't drop a plate or get an order crossed every five minutes," Sarah retorted, making a plate for herself and setting it aside temporarily to pour her own cup of coffee.

"So you acknowledge they overwork you."

"I acknowledge that I spend more time there than I'd like."

"Should I even bother pointing out that you don't need to be there at all?" Olivia asked. Her salary was more than enough to keep them going, not that money was the main consideration. If Sarah didn't keep herself busy, the nightmares would cross into the daylight, and there'd be holes in the hardwood from all of her pacing.

Throwing a smirk over her shoulder, Sarah turned back towards Olivia, beverage in hand. "You shouldn't, yet you still do," she said, leaning casually against the counter as she sampled the hot liquid." I have two skill-sets. Thankfully, one of them seems to be useless now. So I fall back on the first one and be happy that I haven't spilled coffee or dropped a plate in eight years."

"Couldn't be prouder of you," Olivia quipped. "I also can't understand how you can possibly be happy with that waitressing job."

"The risk of getting shot or stabbed is minimal. That's all the benefits package I need."

Olivia cringed at the thought of what Sarah had gone through, bringing a piece of bacon to her mouth to try and cover it up. "There are other jobs you know. You could start fresh, with something you actually like."

"I like not getting shot." More seriously, "Every article I read, all the best degrees are in computers. Didn't particularly like school when I was nineteen, and I've spent longer than I care to think about trying to kill a computer system before it killed everyone else. So why then would I use my fresh start to take classes with a bunch of nineteen-year-olds, learning about the things I was trying to get rid of?"

"Fine, I surrender," Olivia replied, watching Sarah grab her plate from the counter. "Now sit down and eat with me."

Sarah raised an eyebrow as she began to walk across the spacious kitchen. "You're bossy in the morning, have I told you that?"

"Not in the last twelve hours," Olivia teased, lowering her eyes to her plate as Sarah moved toward her.

Her breakfast held her attention for all of two seconds, and then her ears were assaulted by the sound of smashing glass. Olivia's head snapped up to find that Sarah could no longer claim bragging rights on her perfect coordination skills. Cup and plate lay in pieces on the tile. Coffee was mixing with syrup, and Sarah was staring at the waffles on the floor with a mixture of shock and panic. Then her gaze shifted, eyes finding Olivia's just as her nose started to gush and the coughing overtook her.

Olivia was up and moving before the fear had time to fully set in. Sarah fell forward and it was all Olivia could do to ease her down. The brunette was clutching at her, but her grip was frighteningly weak, and Sarah was close to dead weight in Olivia's arms. Both women were barefoot, still in sleepwear, and Olivia sliced her foot open while trying to keep Sarah from doing the same thing. The pain and the blood didn't register, but the blood coming from Sarah's nose certainly did. It stained the brunette's shirt, then it was on Olivia's as well.

Olivia heard herself talking, heard the terror in her own voice that was so uncharacteristic for her. She asked what was wrong, knowing there'd be no immediate answer. Sarah was struggling just to breathe past the coughing, and Olivia was fighting to sit her up enough to keep her from choking on her own blood. She needed a napkin, needed her phone, both of which were a few feet away on the kitchen table. A few feet that could just as easily have been a few light-years in this situation. Green orbs that should've been bright and sharp were dull, barely open, and Olivia had to rail against the sting of her own tears.

Sarah liked to joke that Olivia could remember everything. Like a terminator, she'd said once, only half-teasing. Olivia got the impression that the other woman was jealous. She remembered the dream that'd woken her earlier, remembered it with a clarity few people could achieve for more than a few minutes. Later, she would remember the horror that seized her upon Sarah's collapse, the helplessness and confusion. And she'd remember the dream as the harbinger to all that. The Observers and the bombs shattered Olivia's world right before the plate and glass shattered, and her life was plunged into a hell that was far less literal and far more terrifying.


It was a long day full of doctors and questions and tests. And by the end of it, Olivia felt like she'd lost a fight with one of the shapeshifters. She wanted to collapse, physically and emotionally. Curl up in a corner somewhere and hide from the unfamiliar deluge. Walter said it was possible that the Cortexiphan trials had dulled her emotions somehow, explaining why things that would leave other people in straitjackets didn't affect her, at least not as much as they should've. If her emotions were stilted, it didn't feel that way now. There were still stores of Cortexiphan left at Massive Dynamic. Olivia had half a mind to go there now and demand that Nina turn some of it over. Maybe the drug would help her deal with this.

Drugs. Sarah would be taking so many of them now. Olivia suspected that the sheer number would boggle even Walter's mind, and he still spent an inordinate amount of time and money creating new forms of LSD.

Instead of falling apart like she wanted to, Olivia, cleaned up the kitchen, though not before getting in an argument with Sarah over who would perform that task. There should be comforting words, she knew that. She didn't have them. She kept fixating on the moment they learned about the cancer. She'd felt all the blood leaving her face, felt the drop of her stomach as it tore itself to pieces on the way down. And then she'd looked over to Sarah and found that her lover wasn't surprised. It wasn't the thing to focus on, but Olivia couldn't stop herself, just as she couldn't stop the anger that was trying to overtake the fear.

Sarah showered while she cleaned, after they argued about whether or not Olivia needed to stand guard at the door. Then Olivia showered, examining her own naked body while thinking of Sarah's.

Leukemia. Leukemia meant bruises. She thought about the state of Sarah's hands, wondered how many black and blue marks had come and gone without her noticing. The nosebleeds apparently were not a new occurrence. Olivia had been working too much, hadn't realized. Sarah hadn't told her. Seemed that was true about several things. Olivia stayed in the shower until the water was ice, using the noise of it to cover her tears.

When she entered the living room, Sarah was by the window again. The sun was setting instead of rising this time, but it still looked beautiful. That made Olivia feel worse. Outside everything looked fine. The bombs from the dream, they should've been falling, the Observers flooding the streets. They always showed up at important events. Olivia had been groomed to save the world, she was supposed to be important. Presumably then, the destruction of her entire existence should warrant some attention.

Sarah looked at her as she entered, without turning away from the window. "You're cold again."

She was. Hadn't bothered to properly dry off after the shower, and her hair was cold and dripping. That fleeting glance from Sarah brought a flash of hot anger. Maybe because the brunette had no right to look at her at all, not after her lack of surprise at the hospital. Maybe it was because Olivia wanted the look to be longer, wanted Sarah to have the guts to turn around and face her. Olivia wasn't sure which, supposed it didn't matter. "I'm fine."

There should be more. She should go up to Sarah as she had this morning and wrap her arms around her and tell Sarah to trust her, promise it would be okay. Except in six months it wouldn't be, not if the doctors were right. She'd speak to Nina later, get the names of better doctors, get second and third and fourth opinions. Right now she couldn't make herself move, and Sarah was rigid anyway. "You should be resting," she said, wishing she could make her voice warmer.

Sarah chuckled humorlessly, eyes still locked on the street outside. "I was in bed all day. Details just weren't how I planned them." In a quieter tone, "How's your foot?"

Olivia shook her head behind Sarah's back. As if the glass mattered. Sarah's concern for the trivial injury had her torn between warmth and more anger. The anger quickly won out. Maybe it wasn't the lack of Cortexiphan in her system, Perhaps she'd just been around Sarah too long.

No. It could never be long enough, and now the clock had been sped up enormously. Sarah jumped it when she came through time eight years ago. Eight years, most of them spent with Olivia, and the brunette hadn't found time to open her mouth until she was coughing and bleeding on the kitchen floor. "It's fine. Is there a reason you didn't tell me?"

Tight shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh. "Too many to count."

"Try me."

Another sigh. Silence. Then, "Your mother, for one."

Olivia grimaced, glad Sarah couldn't see it. Marilyn Dunham had died when her daughter was fourteen. From cancer. "How about we keep it to you and me?"

Sarah finally turned to face the blonde, though she made no attempt to move closer. "Not possible. Because it's not only about you and me. It's my mother and yours, and my Charley and yours. It's Reese and his brother and your John and Cam-" Sarah halted there, but only momentarily. "And all the rest."

"What are you talking about?" Olivia asked, pretending she hadn't noticed the slip and trying to ignore the feelings that came with hearing the cyborg's name.

"I'm talking about everyone we've lost. Long list between us, isn't it?"

"It is. And what? You never thought to inform me that you might be joining it someday soon?"

This time it was Sarah who grimaced, but she didn't back down. "I couldn't lose anyone else. All right? For years now, all I've done is lose people, and I know your record hasn't been much better. I was looking for reasons not to be with you. Your job should've been enough, but it wasn't so I looked for others. And don't tell me you weren't doing the same because I know you were about as anxious to get close to someone as I was." The words dripped with undisguised sarcasm. "I didn't want to lose you. And I didn't want to risk you losing me, what that would do to you. Especially after your mother. Bad enough that John and Savannah might hate me for leaving, I didn't want to risk that with you too."

"But you did. We both risked a lot and now we're here and you didn't tell me. All this time, you didn't-"

"What if I had? If I'd told you in the beginning that you might have to watch me die just like your mother and everyone else, what would that have meant for us?"

"It would've meant you were being honest," Olivia snapped, making a conscious effort to keep herself from screaming.

"Yeah. Honest about something that may or may not have been an issue, I didn't know. Cameron didn't know, you don't think I asked? There was no guarantee one way or the other. And if I'd told you, what would've happened? You would've relived what happened with your mother. You would've panicked every time anything went wrong with me. It would've been this cloud hanging over us. Constantly. I'm sorry. I am. But I couldn't know that it was going to start dumping rain today."

That weakened Olivia's anger, but didn't obliterate it. "You know what John Scott did. The lying. I loved him, but for a long time I thought the worst of him, because of what he kept from me. And Walter could've lost Peter-two worlds could've been destroyed-because of Walter's secret. His wife killed herself, because of it. You're not the only one who doesn't like secrets, Sarah."

The brunette had nothing to say to that.

"You know, the lying was fun. When we met in the bar that first night and you lied through your teeth the entire time?"

"That went both ways as I recall."

"It did. And it was fine, because nothing real was supposed to happen. We were playing a game and we both knew it, even if we weren't talking about it. But not everything was a game. What happened in my apartment wasn't a game, at least not completely. And later, after the shapeshifters and the machines were gone and we built a life together, that sure as hell wasn't a fucking game!" She was losing the battle at keeping her voice down. The swearing wasn't usually her thing. Another consequence of living with Sarah. Taking air into her lungs, Olivia forced the exhale to be slow, forced her voice to something approaching normal decibel levels. "It's not a game anymore, and you're still playing like it is."

"No. I'm not."

"So you were protecting me. So I wouldn't worry or have to face bad memories. You know you're not giving me much credit with that defense, right?"

A pause, a steeling breath from Sarah. "It wasn't only about protecting you. It wasn't mostly about protecting you." Another pause, this one longer than the last. "John was nine when they locked me up. For nine years, I knew the world was going to end, knew there was a good chance that I wouldn't be able to do a damn thing to stop it. And then I went to Pescadero, and I went a little crazy. I think you know how much I like admitting that. But you know what? I was losing it before then. I can see that now. The knowledge was too much and I was already going crazy. Them trying to treat me for it, that just sped it up.

"Nine years I knew the bombs were going to fall, that I'd probably die along with everyone else. Nine years before it really, really got to me. Then I got two good years with John before the fucking machines came back for us, and Cameron told me about the cancer. I didn't think anything could be worse than Judgment Day, but in some ways, the cancer topped it. Because as bad as it was knowing the exact date the world was going to end, at least I had a deadline. At least I could learn and teach John and prepare. With the cancer, I had a year, a year that meant nothing after we jumped ahead. No idea what kind, no idea what might've caused it. And how was I supposed to prepare? I saw doctors, again and again they said I was fine. Can't fight something that hasn't happened yet, not when it comes to that. So I took vitamins and ate vegetables and tried not to feel like a time bomb. Tried not to feel like I had before, like it was just a matter of time before everything blew up. But still, every time I felt sick for reasons that didn't have to do with getting beat up. Every time I lost my appetite, I wondered. Is this it? Is this where it starts? And it never was. It never was. And at some point, I couldn't take it anymore. The waiting, the wondering. So I had checkups while you were out, once a year. Once a year, I let myself worry again. Because the rest of the time, I couldn't handle it. I couldn't. It's been eight years since we jumped, and I was reaching my limit. Eventually the waiting and the wondering and being petrified of what might happen in the future? It would've made me crazy again. I promise you, I would've lost it again. And I probably would've lost you in the process, and I didn't want that."

The admission, the raw honesty of it, broke through the walls of anger Olivia had surrounded herself in. Most of it wasn't even directed at Sarah, not really. The brunette should've said something, if not five years ago then at least when the symptoms began. But Olivia should've noticed. Since college, she'd been trained to make observations, connections. She should've realized, but nothing was as it should be anyway. This shouldn't be happening. It wasn't fair, not after everything they'd both fought already. If she were honest, the majority of Olivia's anger was directed at a God she didn't even believe in. The one that let her mother get abused by a sadistic bastard of a stepfather, the one that later gave her cancer and took her away. The one that now threatened to take Sarah as well.

Shoving the rage and resentment aside for later examination, Olivia crossed to the other woman, enfolding her into a warm embrace. Sarah remained tense for a few moments before giving in to the contact, returning the hug and resting her head against Olivia's shoulder.

The blonde fought off more tears. At least Sarah's hold was tight again, not like this morning when she could barely keep a grip on the other woman's shirt. Olivia tried not to think about how long that strength would last as she smoothed a hand through messy locks. "You wouldn't have lost me," she whispered, close to Sarah's ear. "You won't," she added, quiet ferocity entering her voice.

"I'd tell you the same, but I don't want to risk lying to you again."

"Stop it," Olivia commanded, battling a compulsive need to hug the woman tighter. "You're not going anywhere."

A sigh, a kiss to Olivia's cheek. "Not if I can help it, no." After a moment, "I should've told you when it started. I just…all those times that I wasn't sick, that it was stress or exhaustion. I almost convinced myself that it wouldn't happen. I wanted so badly to believe that it wouldn't happen. I was weak."

"No."

"Yes."

Pulling back a bit, Olivia cupped Sarah's cheek, placing a brief, tender kiss on Sarah's lips. "I'll help," Olivia promised. "Nina will help. She knows doctors-"

"Great," Sarah intoned wryly, resting her forehead against Olivia's. "My favorite person, the redhead with the robot arm."

Olivia smiled, just a little. Sarah was actually getting better when it came to Nina Sharp. She'd stopped letting her hand drift toward her waist, and her gun, every time the woman entered a room. "She'll help," Olivia murmured, gently massaging the back of Sarah's neck. "I'll help. We'll beat this." She waited for an affirmation from Sarah. None came. She tried exceedingly hard not to let that break her again. "We'll beat it," she repeated.

Because they had to. Olivia was assaulted with a memory of Nina smashing two snow globes together, symbolizing the destruction of two worlds. It had to be curable, no matter what those first doctors said. Because if it wasn't, if Sarah's life ended, then Olivia's world would shatter just like the globes, just like the glassware that broke as Sarah collapsed.


Olivia drained her glass for the third time. Her head was starting to pound, but it distracted her from the sounds of fifty college kids on their post-exam benders, so she dealt with it. She shouldn't be here, didn't belong. She should be home, keeping Sarah's spirits up. And she'd go there soon, she promised herself. Just as soon as the booze made it so that her own spirits didn't feel completely crushed. The bartender asked about a refill and she was reaching for her wallet when she heard the voice.

"Hey, I got that."

Peter. Suddenly he was standing there pushing cash across the bar, and the shock of it was enough to lift her from the haze of alcohol and despair. "Peter," she said, less a greeting than an exclamation of surprise.

"Hey stranger. Long time no see."

She didn't know if that was her fault or his, wished she didn't care. "Hey. What are you doing here?" As if she didn't know already.

"Basically, what I was doing at the last three beer joints. Looking for you."

Olivia nodded slowly as a fresh drink was set in front of her. Raising it slightly, she tried to make her lips form something resembling a smile. "Found me. Thanks for the drink."

"You're welcome. Mind if I sit down?"

Olivia thought she might, but gestured at the stool next to her anyway. "I assume Walter spoke to you."

"Astrid and Nina beat him to it, but yes." The barman asked for an order and Peter bought something without taking a drink. When the other man was gone again, Peter's voice had softened considerably. "I'm so sorry, Olivia."

Olivia sipped her drink to buy time, to cover the fact that her eyes were too bright. "No, I'm sorry. Walter must've been upset."

"He was," Peter conceded. "And so were you. Rightfully. He gets that."

Upset was an understatement. It'd been so much easier to be hopeful a few weeks ago, before the cold hard truth set in. She'd spent countless hours dragging Sarah to doctor after doctor, every one of them carrying Nina's highest endorsement. The opinions were unanimous, and awful. Then she'd practically lived at Massive Dynamic for days, scouring every old file, every dropped project. The notes left behind by William Bell were equal parts fascinating and disturbing. Before he died, he'd speculated or made progress on some amazing and terrible endeavors. None of them was a cancer cure, or the start of one, or the glimmer of one of his genius leaps of intuition that might've provided a starting point.

She'd been at the end of her rope when she went to Walter. When he echoed the sentiments of everyone else, that it might be possible to prolong Sarah's life a bit, but saving it didn't seem possible, that was when Olivia lost her tenuous hold on control.

"I've seen you defy the laws of physics and nature a thousand times. You've interrogated people who're already dead. You…you ripped a hole in the universe to save Peter."

"Olivia-"

"No, Walter. You saved Peter. And then you and Bell, you created Cortexiphan so that the other kids and I could save the world. You developed this drug that gave us these abilities that no human should have. You destroyed childhoods and lives with this. You turned me into a weapon in this war that you started in the first place, when you took Peter. And now after what you've done to me and who-knows-how many others, you're telling me you can't save her? Just like you couldn't save John Scott? I lost him, and now I'm supposed to lose Sarah too? You can save Peter, and you can turn children into lab rats for some noble cause, but you can't do this one thing for me? IQ of 156 and you can't do this one thing I need from you, in return for sacrificing myself to your noble, high-minded experiments?"

He'd been crying when she finished. Olivia had just enough time to notice this before her own tears burst through and she had to get away. It'd been years since she'd gone off on him like that, years since she'd felt such boiling hot rage directed at him. She'd known it was unfair even as she said it. Walter had done his best to save John Scott. And the rest…those were old wounds that'd scarred over years ago, while Walter worked to atone for his mistakes. Olivia was simply in so much pain that attributing it to Walter was easier than having no one to blame at all.

"Did he tell you everything?" Olivia asked, fighting the urge to drown her shame in more booze.

"Think I got a pretty decent play-by-play."

Olivia sighed deeply, looking at the bottom of her glass instead of at Peter. "I'll apologize tomorrow."

"He understands, Olivia."

Yes. Walter would understand better than anyone. Olivia gave herself another second, then made her gaze lock with Peter's. "What I said about Walter saving you, I didn't mean that-"

"-that he shouldn't have?" Peter finished, finally making use of the drink in front of him.

"Yeah. That. Don't think that I'm not glad that you're-"

"I know," Peter assured her.

"Good." Despite all the repercussions, Olivia couldn't have Peter believing that she wasn't glad Walter had saved his life.

"I am sorry."

Olivia blinked away the brightness, nodded, sipped her drink again. "Thank you."

"I'm also sorry I had to hear it from Walter, Nina and Astrid first."

He didn't sound angry or frustrated. Just confused. And hurt. Olivia would've thought it impossible for her to feel any worse. She kept forgetting how few impossibilities their really were. "You have a lot going on." God that was bad. "I was going to tell you. Haven't fully made the rounds yet."

The excuse was exceptionally terrible, but Peter didn't call her on it. "How are John and Savannah taking it?"

Logical to assume they'd know already. Should've been pretty high up on the list of people to inform, which was pitifully short anyway. "John's still…drifting."

If Sarah had trouble adjusting to life without the perils of a future war, John was even worse. The waitressing wasn't much, but it was more than John had. Sarah at least had experienced it before, remembered life as something other than a fighter, a symbol, a legend. John's whole life had been centered around a purpose that no longer existed. He'd been struggling to find a new one ever since the world kept spinning four years ago, when Cameron said it should've ended.

Cameron. He'd been struggling there too. Whether he'd loved her or only thought that he did, he'd never gotten over her departure. Just like his mother, though he didn't know that. Besides the fact that she was dying, the only other thing Sarah had kept from her son was the truth about her relationship with Cameron. And despite their mutual disdain for secrets, Olivia couldn't say she blamed the brunette. Some truths did more harm than good.

"Well. I definitely understand drifting," Peter commented.

Of course he would. Before she chased him down in Iraq, Peter had spent years running scams, hopping from place to place. That Peter was trying to escape memories of his father and his childhood while John was trying to escape the specter of a John Connor who didn't exist here, that hardly mattered. "Last I heard, he was working on a fishing boat somewhere. Cell reception isn't great." That was utter bullshit. Sarah hadn't forced him to stick around and play house with her and her new lover, but she'd never go a day without knowing where he was, or at least having a reliable means of contact. But the brunette gave that excuse, so Olivia parroted it and sipped her drink again.

"What about Savannah?"

Olivia closed her eyes, fighting off a burning tightness in her throat that had nothing to do with alcohol. "She doesn't know either. Not yet.'

'"How is that possible?"

"She splits time between us and Ellison. Been staying with him since last month."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Sort of an odd custody arrangement."

Olivia shrugged. "He missed her, wouldn't let it go."

"You must miss her too."

She did. She'd continue to, for the next week. She'd also dread Savannah's return, a totally unfamiliar feeling. A cancer diagnosis was hardly the best thing for a twelve-year-old girl who'd already lost so much to come home to. "How's Henry?" Olivia asked after a protracted silence. Peter's gaze sharpened on her with that question, his eyes studying her intently. The blonde did her best not to react, and fortunately her best was better than that of most people.

"He's good," Peter replied. There was caution and a bit of pain in his voice, but there was also no mistaking the slight upturning of his lips. "He's really good."

"I'm glad," Olivia replied. It sounded a little forced, but she still meant it. She just… Henry would always be a sore spot between them. Sarah wasn't wrong when she said they'd both looked for reasons to push each other away in the beginning. And without Henry, Olivia would've had all the reasons she needed. They might've gotten past Peter's mistakes with the other one, if those mistakes hadn't resulted in a child, if Peter hadn't found out about him. But Peter wasn't going to abandon his son, not after the years of absence from Walter. And Olivia couldn't be around the boy. She'd managed to make peace with the other version of herself. Cooperation between the two sides made that a necessity. But Henry was too much. She'd made the mistake of looking at a picture once, saw a perfect blend of herself and Peter, a perfect child with her eyes. Who didn't belong to her. The boy was four, she hadn't seen his face in two years, and she planned to keep it that way.

They sat in silence for awhile, listening to the clink of glasses and the too-loud voices of inebriated college kids. At one point, before she was kidnapped, before Henry, it wasn't uncommon for them to grab a drink together on the weekends. That hadn't happened since before Fringe Division closed, and even then, Astrid had been with them. And despite her earlier internal questioning, Olivia couldn't honestly pretend that their lack of contact now was his fault. He was constantly using the Bridge to cross between universes (as if he could talk about odd custody arrangements), but he still tried with her, despite unanswered voicemails or excuses about the hassles of work. It would be odd though, spending time with him now without asking about Henry. And inquiries about Henry might very well lead to inquiries about the other Olivia. Peter had made peace with the redhead as well.

Olivia was fairly certain the relationship was strictly about Henry. Fairly certain that Peter wasn't engaging in an inter-universal love affair with the woman who was, at least in some ways, a better version of Olivia. But she didn't need to risk being in a position of having (or wanting) to ask, so she'd limited her contact with Peter, focused on loving Sarah, and tried not to dwell on the fact that he still had a kind of hold on her. Just as the machine…Cameron, retained her power over Sarah's emotions long after her chip was taken through time and her body incinerated.

"You met her here."

It wasn't a question, but it left Olivia with one of her own. "What?"

"Sarah. This is where you met."

He attempted to hide it, but the sadness bled into his voice. Olivia tried attributing it solely to Sarah's illness, but she knew him too well. It shouldn't make her feel better, knowing that he wasn't the only one who still had power. It did though. For about two seconds. "Yeah," she said. She had to swallow more booze, along with the lump in her throat, before continuing. "How'd you know?"

Peter's lips quirked, gaze shifting meaningfully over the swarms of obnoxious college kids. "Why the hell else would you choose this place"

Olivia chuckled at that, and it wasn't completely forced. He made a good point.

"So. Was it nostalgia, or knowing that this would be the last place I'd look?"

Olivia sighed, considered. "Does it have to be one or the other?"

"No," Peter replied, voice going soft again. "You knew Walter would call. You didn't want me to find you."

Olivia sipped her drink instead of offering a pointless denial.

"You want me to leave you alone?"

He would if she asked. She put the drink down and met his eyes, letting the mask fall for just a second. "No," she said in a voice that was weak and raw and very unlike her own.

Peter nodded, bringing his drink to his lips and surveying the scene. The room was filling up, the kids getting louder and rowdier with each passing second. "Okay. You really want to stay here?"

Olivia followed the path his eyes had taken. There were two boys eyeing her up from across the room, appearing to egg each other on. Sarah had gotten rid of an overeager MIT student for her the last time they were here. "No," she repeated. "I can't…I don't want to go home yet." She couldn't face Sarah, face telling her lover that she'd failed to bring home a cure or a treatment that would make everything better.

"Okay," Peter said quietly, punctuating it with another nod. "Where to, Agent Dunham?"

The title made her smile a little, even as she started to shake her head. She'd lived in Boston for years, but her life had been her work. There wasn't an abundance of meaningful places to reflect. If there had, she wouldn't have been in this bar. Now, or years ago, after her return from the other universe and the revelation of Peter's affair. If she'd had anywhere else to hide, she wouldn't have met Sarah in the first place.

"I miss the lab." The words were out before Olivia knew they were coming. But on replay, she couldn't take them back. Walter, Peter, Astrid, they'd formed a kind of screwed up, dysfunctional family unit, even after things became difficult between her and Peter. And that lab had been the hub of it all. But it wasn't theirs anymore, hadn't been in over a year.

Peter didn't seem aware of the problem. He grinned at her, fully. It wasn't one of the sad little twists of the mouth they'd been exchanging since his arrival. "You really are feeling nostalgic," he said, eyes glowing with a mischievous twinkle.

Olivia regarded him with equal parts curiosity and suspicion. "Guess I am. But I'm not breaking into Harvard with you."

"Of course you're not," he agreed. Then he pulled a something from one of his pockets and, with a quick little flourish of the hand, held it up for her inspection. "It's not breaking in when you use a key."

Olivia watched the light play against the tiny piece of metal, a disbelieving smile forming on her lips. "We were supposed to turn in our keys," she stated, trying and failing miserably at making it sound like a reprimand.

"I did turn them in. Mine and Walter's. You saw me, I know you remember."

"I do. You didn't tell them you had a copy made."

"They didn't ask. Besides. You remember how upset Walter was at first. If he started ranting about wanting to check up on things and see the place again, which wasn't unlikely, you know that, then I wasn't going to drag him to some introductory chemistry course where he could influence a whole new generation of mad scientists."

"So you've been carrying that key in your pocket for a year, just in case."

"Uh-huh. Seems like a good idea now, doesn't it?"

It did. Still. "We really shouldn't," Olivia protested, voice at odds with her words.

"Probably not. Walter probably shouldn't be taking whichever drug it is that keeps him from remembering which office is his and which belongs to Nina."

"Oh God. Do I want to know?"

"Picture Nina Sharp walking in with her morning coffee to find Walter sitting at her desk, scribbling a formula for the perfect peach smoothie."

"Doesn't seem so bad."

"Wouldn't have been, if Walter had been wearing clothes at the time. That was an especially fun day." More seriously, but still with a smile on his face. "Come on. Let's take a walk down Crazy Lane."