Exclusionary Detailing
Fandom: Fringe
Characters: Olivia Dunham/Alternate Frank Stanton
Rating: T
Summary: She doesn't tell them everything.
Notes: Post-"Marionette," and all the anger and hurt therein. This was supposed to be a lighter Olivia/Frank piece, but it turned on me.
Olivia lies.
Not about anything important. She imparts her official debrief with as much information as she can recall, every scrap of relevant data another weapon in a possible war against the other universe. She tells her team much the same, and their concern is both welcome and exhausting.
But she lies by omission, neglecting to mention the more personal aspects of her stay on the other side. The way she treasures the borrowed moments with Marilyn Dunham and Charlie Francis—not her mother, not her Charlie, but so close that seeing them had been like visitations from the dead. The way she misses the presence of Lincoln Lee, so much a part of her time on the other side that it keeps throwing her to look around and realize he's not in this universe. (His double works at the FBI in Hartford, but Olivia has no legitimate reason to contact him and it would just be too confusing anyway.)
She doesn't mention Frank Stanton at all.
Olivia has at least one secret nobody knows, and she's going to keep it that way. Frank was away most of the time Olivia was in the other universe...but not the entire time. The night before he left for North Texas, with Frank knowing he was about to be called up and both he and his girlfriend inside Olivia's head wanting to make up for time lost to Liv's "breakdown," they'd made love. Sweetly, enthusiastically. Joyfully.
Even—maybe especially—while Olivia had been under the influence of the other woman's memories and emotions, it had been a comfort to know he was out there, wanting to come back to her. It's...complicated, thinking about Frank now, knowing that all the touches and loving words between them had been a lie.
Similar, but not the same, to the lie the other Olivia perpetuated here.
(Peter should have known. He couldn't have known. He should have known.)
The parallels aren't lost on her: what she did to Frank, the other Olivia did to Peter. But Olivia had her mind stolen from her, her personality overwritten, so both she and Frank were the victims of that particular deception. That other Olivia had no such excuse. And Frank legitimately couldn't have known, but Peter...no one had replaced the interloper's memories, no one had brainwashed her into being someone she wasn't. All her choices were her own, all her actions were her own, and Peter should have known the difference.
It's not the same at all. Despite all her anger, Olivia cannot forget that Peter was a victim too.
Olivia clings to the possibility—slim, but there—of slow-burning revenge, for both their sakes. If Frank ever mentions the night before he left for North Texas, that redheaded bitch will know. She'll know that Olivia slept with her boyfriend, and she'll know whose fault it really was, and she'll never tell a damn soul. Whatever her faults she does love Frank, and telling him would only hurt him. It'll gnaw at her, that secret, and Olivia can't help but hope that it's a slow poison, eating into everything she does.
And if she leaves Frank over it...Olivia would be sorry for his sake, but only to a point. He deserves better. Someone who doesn't seduce another woman's boyfriend as part of a mission. Someone who would truly appreciate all his kindnesses.
Olivia appreciates his kindnesses in retrospect, safe but not content in her own home. Even if they hadn't been meant for her, Frank's calls had still been a comfort in a confusing time, his voice full of warmth and love. She's brought the sound of his voice back with her, a memory she's going to hold close. One small stolen compensation for a stolen life.
But there are more than one. Olivia has a number of memories now that both do and don't belong to her. Things said to her, meant for the other woman with her face, but taken to heart nonetheless. Henry Higgins' kindness. Lincoln Lee's care and obvious affection. Marilyn Dunham's maternal embrace. Charlie Francis, hale and sarcastic and alive. Colonel Broyles, who died to send her home. She'd sworn to him that she would find a way to save both universes, and she intends to hold to that promise.
The other side was full of people who lived and loved and fought to save their dying world. They didn't deserve to suffer for the actions of a few. For their sake—for Frank and Henry and Lincoln and Marilyn and Charlie—Olivia needs to find a way to save them all. Walternate and Fayette and the redhead could burn, for all she cares. But for those she loved and who loved her for two stolen months, Olivia has a promise to keep.
I think it was ridiculous for the show to suggest that Frank and Liv didn't have sex after not seeing each other for weeks, given that he was immediately heading out of town. C'moooooon. —and after more research, canon backs me up on this! From "Olivia":
SECRETARY BISHOP: Give her the weekend. After that, she should be fine to go to work.
So she has at least the weekend while Frank's still home. Assuming she goes back to work on Monday: I don't believe "The Plateau" happens all in a day. It looks like mid-morning by the time Fringe appears on the scene of the bus accident. Liv goes home for lunch and talks to Frank about the North Texas outbreak. Lincoln has 8 hours until his burns start to regress, and he pushes that time limit. Next scene, it looks like night outside the windows when Milo returns home to talk to his sister. And then it's day again when Liv and Charlie go to the hospital and follow the long chain of evidence to Milo, culminating in a daytime chase. So unless they want us to think alt-verse days are 16 hours long, I'm not buyin' it.