What's worse? New wounds which are so horribly painful or old wounds that should've healed years ago and never did? Maybe our old wounds teach us something. They remind us where we've been and what we've overcome.
They teach us lessons about what to avoid in the future. That's what we like to think. But that's not the way it is, is it? Some things we just have to learn over and over and over again.

"Olivia. Do you think I could have some yogurt? Strawberry perhaps?" Walter looked up from his dinner almost timidly, his questioning voice barely audible.

Olivia looked at him in surprise. When she noticed his sad gaze, she set down her own fork and sighed. "Walter, we don't have any yogurt here."

Walter just sighed and nodded mutely, his gaze already downcast again.

"Tell you what. If you still want some tomorrow, I'll get you some, okay?" Olivia forced herself to smile, something that hadn't come easily to her in the last few weeks.

Walter just nodded absentmindedly. He grabbed his fork once more, but instead of eating he merely pushed his food around, separating the peas and carrots into neat little piles. Olivia watched him. She wasn't hungry either.

"Okay, I think we can go now." Walter pushed his plate away and looked at Olivia expectantly, the yogurt already forgotten.

"Go where?"

"Well to the lab of course. There's work to be done." He got up from the table and went into the hallway. "Come come, we have a long day ahead of us, my dear." He called from the front door.

.

Olivia had to blink back the tears burning in her eyes and took a deep, ragged breath.

.

"What are you waiting for?" Walter's barely existing patience was already running thin.

"Walter."

He didn't hear her. How could he? Olivia's voice carried nothing of its usual strength.

"Olivia!" He called once again from the door.

"Walter! Come back here!" Olivia sniffed and wiped at her eyes, before she got up from the table.

"Well, what is it?" Walter stood in the doorway to the kitchen, scarf around his neck and one arm by now in the sleeve of his coat.

"It's nine p.m., Walter." She moved over to him and took his coat out of his hands. "There's no need for us to go to the lab now."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." She took his scarf from around his neck and deposited it on a kitchen chair.

"Hm. I could have sworn it was morning already." He sat down again, hands in his lap and eyes downcast. His momentary burst of energy and activation seemed already fading.

Olivia got the dishes and started cleaning the kitchen. When she was done, she turned around and leaned against the counter. Walter was still sitting at the table, his hands idly playing with a thread on his trousers.

.

"Olivia?"

His hesitant voice almost broke her heart. "Yes, Walter?"

"I don't think I like strawberry yogurt. Do I have to eat it?"

"No, Walter. You don't have to. How about I get you some jell-o instead? The blue one, maybe?"

The older man nodded vigorously. "Olivia?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe you should get some strawberry yogurt. Just in case. It's Peter's favourite, you know?"

"I know, Walter." The burning sensation at the back of her eyes was back. She knew what was coming. The same question he asked every night.

"Do you… do you think that maybe – that maybe he will be back tomorrow? Peter?"

"I don't know, Walter." She sniffed again, hoping to stop the tear that was forming in her left eye. "But he will come back. You know that. He promised he would be back."

.

Truth was he hadn't. Peter hadn't promised anything. He hadn't even told Olivia that he was leaving. But then again, he didn't need to.

.

"I think I'm going to go to bed." Walter got up and looked intently at her. "You will be back tomorrow?"

She escorted him back into the hallway and watched as he climbed the first steps of the stairs, gathering her own coat and scarf from the rack. "Of course, Walter. I'll be here for breakfast, just like every morning. As long as you're here, I'll be here."

"Good. Until tomorrow then."

Olivia's hand was already on the doorknob when Walter called her one more time. "Olivia?"

"Yes, Walter?"

"Is it my fault? That Peter is gone?"

Olivia took a deep breath, her chest aching with every intake. "No. It's not your fault, Walter. It's mine."