Breaking Point
Written by: Addie Price
Summary: 'It was a war, Peter. And every war has its casualties. I'm just sorry it had to be Olivia who was made to suffer.' Everybody has a breaking point. And Olivia may have just met hers.
Words: 1,562
Note: To those of you who were reading my other fic, 'Home' I am very apologetic. I don't know what happened; I simply lost all inspiration for it. I may continue it someday in the future, however this story right now is my focus. To those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, that's okay. This fic is set after 3.17 Stowaway, however I may reference the previews for 3.19 Lysergic Acid Diethylamide in the hopefully not too distant future. Reviews are always greatly appreciated.

Rated T for brief language and my own paranoia.
Disclaimer: FRINGE is the property of FOX Broadcasting Company and its associates. I am in no way affiliated with FOX nor do I own any of the characters depicted in this story.

"You can't forget who you are, Olivia. You can't forget where you're from."
- Peter Bishop

A ring of a bell. A moment of confusion. A short fight. A loss. And just like that, a third person was living inside her mind.

William Bell's entrance to her psyche wasn't nearly as brutal or damaging as her doppelganger's. He wasn't forced into her mind with injections and drugs, his memories weren't rooted into hers. No, he had slipped into her consciousness as easily as a passing thought as his soul was joined with the magnet inside her.

But the mind is made for one only, not three.

So it was when the third entered Olivia Dunham's mind that it began to break down. It was the third that destroyed her mind and tore her psyche apart. It was the third that landed her in the mental hospital where Peter doesn't know whom he'll face when he visits each day.

He drops his keys and phone and belt into the tray offered by the orderly. The young nurse smiles at him before unlocking the door that leads to the hall that leads to Olivia's cell. She's been a danger to herself since she arrived and anything that could be used as a weapon mustn't go past the hallway to her room.

The walls are white, the floor pearly. Walter stopped visiting a while ago; he couldn't bear the sight of her in a mental institute, couldn't stand to see her so broken. Astrid still visits every once in a while with Peter and Rachel is there almost every single day. Ella hasn't seen her aunt since before she was institutionalized; her mother refuses to let her see Olivia this way.

The orderly smiles softly at Peter as she unlocks the door to Olivia's cell and waves him through. Sounds become muffled as he enters, the padding on the walls and ceiling and floor absorbing any excess noise.

Peter vaguely wonders who he'll be facing today.

Her hair is braided, beginning at the crown of her skull in a French braid and them continuing down her back in a basic plait. She turns to face him as he enters.

He knows the instant he looks into her eyes. It isn't her.

"Peter Bishop." Her voice is filled with disdain. "So nice to see you again." It isn't hard to tell she thinks it's anything but.

He nods at her. "And you too."

"Tell me, Peter. How are things going on your side. Have we destroyed you yet?"

He keeps his distance. This type of meeting usually turns violent. "Look around, Dunham. You're living there. You tell me."

She gives a sharp laugh, the sound sending shivers down his side. "Still looks like hell to me, Bishop."

He wishes that he could at least have Bell today if he couldn't have Olivia.

"What happened with the war, Bishop? Did we lose?"

Peter shrugs. They've had this conversation before."Nobody won, nobody lost. You know that, Dunham."

She smiles slowly at him, the gesture not quite reaching her eyes. They never did with her. "I know. I just like to hear you say it. To admit that you failed."

"We didn't. We never wanted to destroy your world. We just wanted to save ours."

She moves closer, her smile widening dangerously. "I wasn't talking about your world, Peter. I was talking about Olivia."

It's strange, to see her talking about herself as if she's somebody different. He has to remind himself that she is; this isn't Olivia Dunham speaking, it's her alternate, planted firmly in her mind.

He flinches as her arm brushes his, reaching up to his throat. "It would be so easy," she whispers. He scoots backwards to find nothing but wall behind him and presses himself up against that, trying to get as far away from her as possible. She trails a hand along the side of his neck. "I was trained so well. Just a quick jab," she makes the motion, swiping at his neck. He flinches. "And I could kill you. Crush your windpipe. Just. Like. That."

He stares down at her, defiance radiating from him. He doesn't want to give her the satisfaction of his fear, but in all honesty, he isn't scared for himself. He's afraid for Olivia. How much damage could this woman, this monster, do in her mind? How much has she already done?

All of a sudden, Olivia pulls away from him, tucking her hand against her chest. Her gaze drops and she stares at the floor, gasping as if she's just sprinted the mile. She raises her eyes to his and he can see that they've darkened. "Peter?"

Relief fills him. She drops to her bed and wraps her arms around herself, clutching herself as if her embrace is the only thing keeping her together. "She was going to hurt you, Peter. I saw it. She was going to hurt you and I couldn't let that happen."

Peter crosses the room to sit by her side, resting a hand on her knee. "Shh, Liv. She's gone now. She isn't going to hurt anyone."

Olivia begins to rock back and forth as if she can't hear him. "She's fighting me, Peter. It's getting cold."

He knows what this means, but he doesn't want this moment to end. "Can you keep her away?"

"It's not her."

She drops her arms and shuts her eyes. When she opens them, they are considerably lighter, closer to gray than green. And when she speaks, her voice is different. It deepens slightly and she speaks in a slower, wiser rhythm. "Hello, Peter. Tell me, how is your father?"

He breathes a sigh of relief that it's not Olivia's doppelganger and moves to sit next to him. "He's not doing well, William. He's taken yo-er, Olivia's institutionalization hard. It reminds him of when he was in a mental hospital."

William sighs. "I can imagine. And I bet he blames himself for this, no?"

"He thinks that if he hadn't triggered the magnet then this never would've happened."

"If he hadn't triggered the magnet then we never would've won the war."

Peter takes a deep breath. "I know. But I wish this never would've happened either."

William places a comforting hand on his shoulder. "So do I. But it was a war, Peter. And every war has it's casualties. I'm just sorry it had to be Olivia who was made to suffer."

The two sit silently for a few minutes before William removes his hand from Peter's shoulder. Peter looks at him, taking in his crestfallen face. "She's not doing well, is she?" he asks, fearing the answer.

"No, Peter, she isn't. It was hard enough for her to keep Fauxlivia from surfacing before my soul entered her mind. She's getting weaker. I've been fighting Fauxlivia for her, but I'm not sure how much longer we'll last against her. Whatever drugs they used to plant the Other Olivia's memories in Olivia's mind are strong; she's taken a deep hold here. It will take much more than our wills to uproot her."

Peter looks away, dropping his gaze to his hands as they twine themselves in his lap. "Walter's been trying to come up with a solution. But he can't think of anything."

"He needs my help, Peter. He needs to come here, to see me."

Peter shook his head. "He won't. He refuses."

Suddenly, William's hands are on his shoulders; he's kneeling in front of him, his eyes desperate. "You have to get him here, Peter. I can't leave."

Peter's hands grip William's. For a moment, for just a moment, he forgets that this isn't Olivia. "I know, sweetheart. I know."

Her eyes clear, a single burst of confusion and clarity filling them. "Peter?"

And he knows that William Bell has relinquished control, has given Olivia her mind, and body, back. He knows that William will fight to keep Fauxlivia at bay for as long as he can, will give him these moments with her. It's rare for Peter to see her twice in one day.

"Olivia?"

She leans forward, embracing him. "Oh, Peter."

He hugs her back, pulling her against him and burying his head into her shoulder as she begins to weep. "Olivia," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "Oh, thank God, it's really you."

"She's too strong, Peter. I-I don't think I can fight her anymore."

He pulls back and holds her at arm's length. He speaks in low, serious tones, his voice strong. "You have to Olivia. You can't give in to her. I already lost you to her, to them once. I'm not going to let that happen again. Walter and I will find a way to get her out."

"And what about William?"

"William won't fight you for control. He's a peaceful resident, not a violent one. You won't have to worry about him.

"And John?"

If he would've been standing, he would've stumbled. "John? John's back?"

Olivia nods, tears streaming down her face. "He says he wants to help me, Peter, but I don't know. I don't know if I can trust him. I don't know if he means what he says. I just don't know."

Peter hushes her and pulls her in tight again. "It'll be okay, Olivia. I promise." And as he tightens his grip again, he promises her and himself that he'll never let go.