you're working so hard
and you're never in charge
your death creates success
rebuild and suppress
She pauses just inside the door of Broyles' office, waits for him to lift his eyes to hers before crossing the room. She drops into one of the chairs, and winces at the soreness in her joints. She wonders briefly if she'll have the energy to stand up again. She can think of worse places to sleep.
It's long minutes before she speaks, but he just waits, watching her with eyes that look as tired as she feels. He's patient, and she hates the thought that Christopher will die without his patient, protective father by his side.
Her eyes burn with unshed tears and her voice is rough and seems loud. "You were right."
He leans back in his chair.
She clarifies just for something to say, words to take up the quiet space in the office. "About me needing time."
She wants to ask him if he knew about Peter and the other her and whether he just looked the other way, but she doesn't really want to know the answer. She doesn't want to know if he disapproved, or maybe he was secretly happy for her, happy that she was happy.
He just nods. "Take as much time as you need."
She almost tells him that there isn't enough time, that there won't ever be enough time. She's pretty sure he already knows that.
She meets his eyes and says, "Thank you."
The flight to Chicago is crowded and turbulent. She was hoping for a mostly-deserted red-eye, but apparently she's not the only one who needs to be half-way across the country before morning. She's got a carry-on full of clothing that still has the tags attached and nothing else. She didn't even go to her apartment, just booked the first flight she could get and went from the office to Target to the airport. She tries to let the noise of the plane lull her to sleep, but she jolts awake every few minutes and by the time the plane lands she has a pounding headache.
The taxi driver makes her think of Henry, and she hopes he's okay. She hopes that helping her didn't put him in danger. She hopes he didn't end up like Broyles. She hates that people over there who had no reason to help her were the ones that got hurt.
Rachel and Ella are just leaving the apartment, and Ella squeals and throws her arms around Olivia's neck. Olivia never wants to let go of her.
Rachel hugs her too, and asks, half-laughing, surprised, "What are you doing here?"
Olivia can't answer at first, just buries her face in Ella's strawberry-scented hair. She tries to smile when she looks up at Rachel. "I just… can I stay here a few days?"
"Of course." Rachel frowns and looks down at Ella before looking back up. She lowers her voice. "Liv, what's wrong?"
She just shakes her head and hugs her sister again. "I'll tell you later."
She staggers to Rachel's bedroom and remembers to kick off her shoes before she crawls under the blankets. She hasn't moved by the time Rachel gets home that night.
Rachel pulls a blanket over her and lays on the bed so that they're face to face, like when they were kids and neither of them could sleep. She just waits, and Olivia wonders if everyone in the world knows that if they just wait and stare at her, eventually she'll talk to them.
"Peter cheated on me."
Rachel's face flickers from disbelief to anger to utter confusion. "What?"
Olivia shrugs, but she's laying on her side so it doesn't really work.
Rachel frowns. "I didn't even know you were seeing him. How long…?"
"A couple months."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She shrugs again, and pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders.
The anger is winning out now, and Rachel's voice is indignant. "How could he do that?"
Olivia can't stop the bitter little laugh, because she wants to defend him. She wants to tell Rachel that it wasn't his fault, like maybe if she does she'll start to believe it herself. She just shakes her head against the pillow. The movement shakes loose the tears that had been welling in her eyes, and it's like a flood. Rachel scoots closer, and Olivia cries into her sister's shoulder for hours, days. She doesn't know how long, she just wishes she could stop crying, stop hurting.
She wishes she could tell Rachel everything. She thinks it's unfair that the people she can tell are people she can't bear to talk to now.
Eventually she stops crying, and Rachel strokes the hair on her temple just like she does for Ella when she can't sleep. Olivia can't close her eyes, though. She keeps remembering how she remembered Peter when she was over there, keeps imagining what the real Peter was doing instead.
Rachel's fingers go still against her temple. "Do you have to keep working with him?"
Olivia thinks about the answer for a long time. "Yeah. What we do is more important."
"More important than what? It's ridiculous that you can't ask for a transfer."
"I don't." Olivia swallows hard against another lie. "I don't want a transfer."
"Then make him leave. He can work somewhere else."
"He can't, really. I need him." The words taste like bile on her tongue.
"Liv…"
"It's okay."
"No, it isn't. I thought Peter was…" Rachel trails off and looks sad and lost.
Olivia knows she wants to say that she thought he was different, that he wasn't like Greg or anyone else who's ever hurt either of them, and Olivia wants to say she's right. Olivia wants her to be right. She wants, just once, to trust someone and for them to not hurt her in completely justifiable ways.
She wants incredible things to stop happening to her.
She wants the universe, both universes, to leave her alone long enough to get a full night's sleep.
"Hey. I'll be okay." She smiles at Rachel, and Rachel smiles back at her.
"Yeah, I know. You always are."