Author's Note: I started working on this piece right before 5x02 aired, because I had a few paragraphs in my brain that needed to come out. The plan is to have four parts - Beginnings, Loss, Reunion, and Finality. This wasn't written from beginning to end, but as inspiration came to me, so some pieces of the other sections are already written. My goal is to have each section fit in with existing canon at the time of publication. No guarantees on how long it will take me to finish this.

Disclaimer: These characters, their lives, and their universe are not my property.

Part One - Beginnings

She is Olivia Dunham, and so, on the night when her water breaks, a slight trembling in her hands as she shakes him awake and gets dressed is the only sign of her fear and nervousness. While she dresses and gathers her things, she methodically works through her mental checklist of necessary items, to help push down the thoughts that try to invade her mind, but as she sits down in the passenger seat she can no longer hold back the flood of worries filling her mind, the same fears she has carefully ignored for the past nine months.

What if...? What if I don't know how to be a good mother? What if I can't love her the way she needs to be loved? What if something happens to her? Or worse, what if something happens to us and she is left alone in this broken world? What if...? "We're playing the odds, Peter. What do you really think our chances are of having a normal life?" Gambling with my own life, our own lives, that's one thing, but now? What if... what if...?

The thoughts careen through her mind, repeat over and over, a litany of her worst nightmares, as she stares straight ahead, sees terrible scenes play out in front of her, scenes filled with blood and death and anger and sorrow, and she clenches her hands together in an attempt to hold on to what's real.

He is Peter Bishop, and therefore, on the night when she wakes him at 3:37 AM, he is so nervous and excited that he puts his shirt on backwards and inside-out without even noticing, almost forgets her overnight bag, and has to go back for the car keys which he left on the hook. On the way to the hospital, he alternates between driving 15 over the limit and muttering condemnations to himself after each of the four wrong turns he makes, all the while constantly turning to check on her, to make sure she's alright, to make sure their baby is alright. And so it doesn't take him long to notice that she is most definitely not alright. He reaches over and threads his hand between hers, breaks her death grip on herself.

"Hey...are you okay?... 'Livia? What's wrong?"

As she looks up at him, the haunted pain he sees in her eyes drives home into his soul, and he knows immediately what she's thinking about. He's seen this before, in a future that almost was, in the eyes of a different Olivia, one who didn't want to bring a child into a broken world.

I wish I could tell you that it will be okay, that we don't need to worry about what the future might bring, but I can't, I know all too well how empty that promise would be, how no matter how hard I work to protect this family, there will always be the possibility that you could be torn away from me at any moment. But I wish you could see past that, could see what keeps me going, that even in the midst of all the insanity in the universe, there can be love and happiness and goodness. Look at us, Liv - look at all that we have, despite everything that's come our way... Let me in, let me show you the world as I see it...

"Honey, you're not alone in this. I'm here."

He squeezes her hand gently, silently encourages her to allow him to help pull her out of the private hell she is inflicting on herself.

"Peter... I'm scared."

And though her quiet admission causes him pain because of what she must be feeling to get her to admit that, he also breathes a silent sigh of relief.

"Don't be. We can do this, you know, you and me. We've dealt with monsters and shapeshifters and nefarious masterminds and Walter cooking naked on Tuesdays, so I think holding together a family is well within what we can handle..."

"Not funny. This isn't a joke..."

"... I know. Seriously though, Liv, I know the world is a scary place, and the idea of trying to raise a kid in the middle of it is pretty daunting, but don't give up on it before we even start. People still have families in this world, and I think ours probably has a better shot than most, because we know what's really out there. This kid will have you to look out for her, and me to take care of her and of you, and a grandpa who'll spoil her rotten, and it won't matter what the world outside is like, because our family will be good."

The sound of a car horn behind him rudely interrupts their conversation to inform him that the traffic light is now green, and he quickly focuses back on the road, but out of the corner of his eye he sees that she is thinking about what he said, and so he waits patiently until she is ready to speak. She stares out the window for a few blocks, and then he feels her gaze come back to him.

"Do you really believe that - what you said about our family having a shot at a good life?"

"Yeah, I do."

He smiles at her, willing her to believe along with him, and his heart lifts as she finally smiles back softly.

"Okay then. And Peter?... Thanks."

"Any time... Damn. That was our turn..."

When the contractions start, and with them comes the pain, she doesn't scream or cry; she only reaches out without looking for the hand that she knows will be there when she needs it, because it always has been. Even in those early days when she knew he resented the position she'd placed him in, when she wondered every week whether she'd call his phone to find the number disconnected and him gone, he had been there with an encouraging word, a joke to coax a smile out of her, a relatively sane presence in the middle of the impossibility that was becoming their life. He has always been her rock, her constant when she needs something to hold on to, and today is no different.

Between the waves of pain, as she closes her eyes and breathes deeply, tries to prepare for the next round, she feels his fingers gently brush her cheek, tuck a strand of sweat-soaked hair back behind her ear, as he whispers her encouragements that she only halfway hears. Words have no meaning for her at this moment, only sensations and emotions.

His hand in hers, anchoring her. The murmur of his voice, easing her tension. His solid presence, calming her fears. This is all that matters, at least until the pain comes again.

Eventually, after what feels like an eternity to her, it is over, and as she hears her daughter squall out her indignation at her entrance to the world, her heart beats faster in nervous anticipation, already filled with love for a child she hasn't yet seen.

He's pretty sure he lost all circulation to his fingers about five minutes ago, but there's no way he's even going to try to pull his hand out of her white-knuckled grasp. First off, she's got pretty much an iron grip, so the effort would probably be pointless, but more importantly, this is about all he can do for her. And that inability to do anything concrete is driving him insane.

Who would have thought, even five years ago, that I'd wind up being the guy who's mentally freaking out because his wife's in labor? Funny how the world changes...

Really, all he wants to do is make her pain stop, but that's definitely outside his power, so he's stuck with holding her hand and hoping this happens quickly, both for her sake and his own. He's no good at standing by while she's hurting, never really has been. Ever since she showed up in his life with her tough-as-nails exterior and her eyes full of pain and desperation, his protective instincts have always kicked into overdrive wherever she's concerned. Of course, back then he knew better than to offer her more than a few comforting words or a quick touch on the arm, but that didn't stop him from wanting to be able to do more.

You really did a number on my life, Olivia Dunham... I hadn't cared about anyone except myself in nearly twenty years, but it took you less than a day to start to work your way into my heart, and now, I can't imagine life without you. You're my world...

His grasp on her hand tightens to match the strength of hers, an involuntary response to the emotions rushing through him, and she looks up into his eyes as the next contraction starts. Together they wait out the pain, hands clasped and gazes locked, connected by a love stronger than the laws of the universe.

And finally, just when he thinks that he can't take seeing her pain anymore, the doctor is saying that it's time, and then there's a flurry of activity, nurses moving around, blocking his view, and then he hears her for the first time. She's got quite the set of lungs on her, his daughter, and he thinks to himself that her cries may be the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. The look in his wife's eyes says she's thinking the same thing, and they share silent smiles.

Moments later, the nurse is saying his name, holding out a squirming, blanket-wrapped bundle, and he turns, reaches out with shaking hands. He's nervous beyond belief, but as he takes his daughter into his arms, his fears disappear, replaced by absolute wonder at the miracle that he's holding.

And as he stares in awe at this miniature, wrinkled, beautiful person, who is his to love, his to protect, he knows that his life has changed again like it did that day years ago in Baghdad. Olivia gave him a home, a reason to stop running, and now the tiny, squalling child in his arms has given him a purpose.

"Be a better man than your father." You are my daughter. My daughter! I would do anything for you, give everything. You will never be alone; you will always know you are loved.

He brushes his lips on her forehead in a gentle kiss, still marveling at how perfect she is, then carefully places his daughter (he thinks again, my daughter!) into her mother's waiting arms.

"Kiddo, meet your mom."

Her world has been turned upside down in an instant before, many times, but as she holds her daughter close, drinks in every detail of her face, she knows that none of those moments could ever come close to this one. She may be utterly exhausted and still sore, but the love that she feels for this precious little one fills her like nothing she's ever experienced before, as she gently traces those tiny features with a fingertip, whispers to her baby how beautiful she is, how perfectly her little body fits against her mommy's, how much she is loved.

But even the rush of emotions cannot defeat her body's demands for rest, so she gently transfers their little piece of perfection back into his arms, and she drifts off to sleep, carried along on the lullaby that he hums for their daughter.

Some time later, she wakes to the sound of his voice, and opens her eyes to see him pacing back and forth across the room, tenderly rocking their daughter in his arms as he quietly elaborates on her perfection.

"See, you have one perfect nose, which I bet is going to look just like your mom's, and two adorable ears, and I'm sure that when you open those squinty little eyes they'll be a beautiful shade of blue, and here we have one little hand, complete with five tiny fingers..."

He stops then, just a few feet from her, and she sees his face break into a giant grin, as he gazes down at the tiny fingers that have just wrapped around his, with a look of absolute amazement and adoration. And in that instant, she loves him more than ever.

She watches him without moving, not wanting to break the moment, but after a few seconds the little fingers lose their grip, and he looks up and meets her gaze.

"Did you see, Liv? She grabbed my finger!"

And he moves over to the bed with his precious cargo, hands her their daughter so she can share in this first of many firsts.

"I saw."

The smile on her face as she looks into his eyes and then back down at their baby girl speaks the feelings she can't put into words, and he wraps his arms around them both, encircling their little family. It's then that she knows what perfect contentment feels like, and she whispers softly to their daughter.

"Welcome home, Etta."

That day in the hospital, they have everything they could ever want.

And for three years, one month, and five days, the world is exactly as it should be.