Snapshot: ~Road Not Taken~ Through the Dark

Disclaimer: Of course I don't own something as cool as Fringe.

Right so for this fic im totally ignoring the season finale where they talked it over in the morning blah!

Rated: T

Type: Oneshot

Pairing: Olivia/Peter

Beta'd by: I Was Here Moments Ago

Requested by:udontknomyname

Peter POV

When Peter had left the table to use the washroom, he hadn't even considered the possibility of returning to an upset Walter. Yet, as he made his way back to the table, that was exactly what he saw: a haggard man with his head down, shaking with the effort to control his weeping.

"Hey." He said, trying to get his father's attention.

Sitting down, he leaned forward, concerned. He hadn't seen his father like this before.

"Hey Walter." Placing his hand over Walter's, he frowned. "What just happened?"

Silently he waited for an answer.

Shaking more violently than before, Walter continued to cry. Covering his son's hand with his, all he could was shake his head.

Patiently Peter sat, his hand still clenched in Walter's, waiting. He knew this wasn't going to be like any of the other times Walter had become emotional.

No, this time it wasn't going to be some trivial issue easily dealt with.

"Ag..Agent Dunham." Walter started, tears hindering his speech.

Peter's heart lurched at her name. "Agent Dunham what? Walter what?"

Sobbing again Walter shook his head.

Hand tightening around his fathers Peter fought to keep his voice even. "What about Olivia?"

No response.

"Is she okay?" He needed to know, if nothing else, he needed to know she was safe.

Unable to meet his sons gaze, he stared at the table. "She..she was here."

"Just now?" He pressed. Already, his fingers ached to call her and reassure himself.

"Yes."

"Was she… what happened?"

This latest case had been hard on her, the similarities between herself and the dead girl too close for comfort. Walter, his emotionally stunted father, was upset. Not even as a child had he ever seen him quite like this... quite so human.

Taking a breath, Walter slowly let go of his son's hand. Leaning back in his chair, he slowly settled.

"She wanted to know what Bell..what we did to her as a child."

Peter's stomach dropped.

"She wanted to know why we did it." Tears started to blur Walter's vision once again.

Oh God, he felt nauseous.

Olivia had finally asked the question that had plagued his own mind night after night. Questions he had been too scared to ask. There was something deep inside of him that feared the answers the questions would bring. There would be no going back, no pretending everything was still okay.

"What did you say Walter?" He asked, his voice sharper.

Oblivious to Peter's feelings on the subject, Walter hiccuped. "That I didn't remember, I didn't know why."

Tears ran down his face once again.

The walls were starting to close up around Peter. Suddenly suffocating, he needed to escape this place. Needed to leave and find Olivia, didn't want her to be bear it alone. No matter how hard this whole thing was on him, it was twice as bad for her.

She had lived. Was living with the consequences of his selfish father.

Watching Walter now, he couldn't even muster up the anger and resentment he usually felt. Before him sat the shell of his former self, broken and drowning in guilt, something new to him.

"Come on Walter." Standing, he helped his father up. "Let's go back to the hotel."

"I'd rather listen to my records." He mumbled. "Yes music would be nice, something with an instrumental melody."

That was fine with him.

Leading him through the door and into the lab, Peter half-heartedly made sure Walter was fine.

"Walter, I'm going out for a bit. Stay here and wait for me or call a cab and go back to the hotel, okay?"

Nodding, Walter's attention was already on the boxes of records.

Without another word, Peter turned and left the building. Making it outside, he finally slowed his pace down. Staring up at the star filled sky, he tried to make sense of it all. Pulling out his cell phone, he hit speed dial one and waited.

One ring.

A second.

A third.

"Dunham."

He winced at the sound of her voice. Even through the phone he could hear her confusion and vulnerability. His mind shifted to the last time he had heard her sound like that.

At the hospital, when she had thought herself responsible for the wife stabbing her husband, she had sounded as hollow as she did now. It was just another example of what Walter had put her through.

"Hello?"

"Olivia." He started, suddenly unsure of what to say.

"Peter." Her voice weaker.

"Hey."

"Hi."

Sighing, he knew he was going to have to say something. "I talked to Walter."

Her gasp was audible.

"I… uh… I was upset, and I didn't mean to be so hard on him."

Her apology was definitely not something he wanted.

"No," He said, cutting her off. "You had every right to be mad, and Walter needs to know that what he did affected people.

"Peter." Her voice cracked.

"Where are you?"

"Sitting in my car outside my house."

"Lock your doors." He ordered, her safety his first priority. "I'll be there in five minutes."

"Walter..."

"Is at the lab, he's fine."

Less then five minutes later, Peter pulled up behind her parked SUV. Getting out, he walked to the passenger side of her car and knocked. Hearing the door unlock, he pulled the handle, swinging it open. He took one glance at her reclined in her seat, eyes unfocused and hands clenched. Sitting down, he closed the door.

"Hey."

"Hi," She whispered.

Pulling the lever, he lay down beside her. Following her lead, he stared out the windshield.

"Harris is dead."

He didn't offer his condolences.

"It was him." Smiling meekly, she seemed so out of it. "We followed him to a warehouse where we found him drugging the other sister to make her activate."

Closing her eyes, she shuddered.

"I got trapped in the room with her. She was panicking, her skin burning up. I was so sure I wasn't going to get out of that one."

His heart seemed to stop. Her tone held none of the panic it should have.

"Suddenly, Harris was on fire and it was over." Fidgeting, she looked over at him.

Her eyes were full of tears.

"He helped do that to us and can't even remember what 'that' is."

There was no need to ask who she talking about now.

"He said something terrible is coming and all they wanted to do was prepare us."

A single tear made its way down her face.

"Peter, what's going to happen?" She asked, pleading for an answer she knew he didn't have.

Reaching over, he grabbed her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"Whatever he did, what ever happens, you're not alone. No matter what, you have people who will help you."

People who would protect her.

He didn't say it out loud but he knew she understood what he was saying. He squeezed her hand.

No matter what, he would be there.

Silently, connected emotionally by a man who had ruined both of their pasts, and connected physically by the comfort the others touch offered, they sat there in the dark as the moon moved across the sky.

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