Na Einai Kalitero Anthropo Apo Ton Patera Tou
Walter Bishop adjusted the calibration on the neural scanner before him and frowned. Olivia and Peter would arrive shortly, and he needed to be sure the readings would correct when he examined Peter; it wouldn't do if he declared Peter fit, and then the boy went on some sort of Observer killing spree.
The door to the lab opened with a creak, and a breathless Olivia appeared, Peter practically draped over her like a second coat. "Could I get a hand?" she pleaded.
Walter barely looked up. "Astralagus, please?" he said briskly.
Astrid was already halfway across the room. "Peter!" she exclaimed, slinging Peter's other arm over her shoulder. "Peter, can you hear me?"
Peter's head lifted slightly at the sound of her voice; Astrid couldn't help but gasp. Blood coated his neck, staining his jacket and the shirt beneath. His eyes were glassy and bloodshot; it took him some time to focus on her face, but a weak smile formed as he slurred, "Astrid."
She returned a relieved smile through her tears, and reached out to touch his cheek. "There you are," she breathed. "Thank God. There you are."
"Bring him over here, please," Walter instructed as the trio staggered toward him. "Peter, do you know where you are? Do you know who I am?" he asked, gripping Peter's arms to steady him.
Peter nodded painfully. "Walter?"
"Good." He saw Peter's brow crease in confusion. "What is it, son?"
"I… think I'd like that pain medication now, okay?" he said in a tight, quiet voice.
"Unfortunately, I can't do that, " Walter replied bluntly. "I can't run the risk of anything interfering with whatever is happening in your brain now that you've removed the tech."
"Walter, he's in a lot of pain," Astrid countered. She could feel him trembling as she helped Olivia with him, and he seemed to be getting paler by the second.
"Yes, well, he should've thought of that before he did something so monumentally stupid, hadn't he?" Walter snapped.
"Walter!" Olivia barked.
"Liv… 's'okay," Peter said as he sat down on the exam table.
Walter began removing Peter's clothes; the blood soaked jacket and shirt were dropped on the floor, leaving Peter shivering and bare from the waist up. Walter reached behind Peter's neck to untie the leather cord holding his wedding ring. "Please…" Peter protested softly. "Don't?"
"It has to come off. I need full access to the wound," Walter replied, untying the cord.
"It's all right, Peter," Olivia soothed. "I'll hold onto it." She took the bloody cord from Walter and squeezed it in her palm, holding it against her heart. Smiling at Peter, she said, "Okay?"
"Okay," he said, lowering his head to his chest as Walter examined the wound on the back of his neck.
"Well, you did a rather good job with the incision. I suppose you had some practice when you put the thing in your neck, so I'm not surprised." Peter started to lift his head, but Walter put a firm hand on his hair. "Stay still, I need to work."
After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Peter said, "I'm sorry, Walter."
"Why? Were you sorry before, when you were about to go out there and kill Windmark? Are you sorry for abandoning everything we've been working toward, just to follow your own selfish path?" Walter walked around to face Peter. "Are you sorry for this?" He pushed the left sleeve of his lab coat to reveal a pale bruise around his arm – exactly where Peter had grabbed him during their conversation earlier.
Peter reached out with a shaking hand. "Oh, God… Walter… I didn't… "
"Didn't what? Didn't think? I thought that's all you were doing. You didn't care who you hurt." Walter snatched his hand away before Peter could touch him.
"Walter, stop it," Astrid warned him. "What are you doing?"
"That's enough, Walter," Olivia added.
"No," Peter said in a voice full of self-recrimination. His head pounded; his vision swam. But he took a breath, and looked directly at Walter. "I'm so sorry I hurt you, Walter. I didn't mean to, I swear."
"Didn't you? I was in your way. I was trying to stop you. And isn't that what Observers do? They simply remove the obstacles in their way by any means necessary. Good God, Peter, what were you thinking? You promised me! You said you would help me, and then you did this, all for yourself. You became one of the monsters who murdered your child!" Walter shouted.
Peter closed his eyes in pain, both physical and emotional. "I have no excuse, Walter. You're right."
"Did you enjoy not feeling anything? Did that make everything better for you? To run away from the pain of being human? To run away from your dead child? From Olivia? From me? But then, that's what you do. You run away. Didn't you do that to your mother in the other timeline? You ran away from her when she needed you."
"God! Walter!" Astrid cried.
"You ran away with him when you got angry at Olivia and me. And you ran away when Etta went missing. Because that's what you do. You abandoned us because that's what you do."
"I didn't," Peter said, his voice heavy with pain and exhaustion. "I didn't abandon you. I needed to find Etta. I needed to find our daughter, and bring her home. For all of us. Because I loved her. And because you loved her. I needed to find her because of the days she spent here with you, playing with Gene and listening to Violet Sedan Chair with you. Because of the times she spent with Astrid, pretending to knit. Because of the Sunday mornings she'd come running into our bedroom and jump on us to wake us up. I had to find her for my family, Walter. For all of us." He tiredly wiped the tears that had fallen. "I had a family, Walter. For the first time. You say I abandoned you? I stayed here and searched for my baby girl. I didn't go anywhere. You all left me. You all left."
He swayed slightly on his feet. Olivia took a step toward him, but he waved her off. "I… I can't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…" He turned and fled the room, leaving a stunned Olivia, Astrid, and Walter in his wake.
"I'll go, make sure he's okay," Astrid said, rushing after him.
Walter turned to Olivia. "Olivia, I – "
Olivia's hand connected with Walter's cheek, snapping his head back. "How dare you," she growled. "How dare you do this to him, say those things to him."
"He was supposed to be a better man," Walter argued. "He was supposed to help me. And look what he did!"
"Yes, look at what he did. And look at what you did."
"I know what a man is capable of when he grieves. Peter should have known better."
"But he didn't know, Walter. All he could do was feel. And we gave him no outlet. He had to be strong for us. He always has to be strong for us. Who's strong for him?" Walter opened his mouth to speak, but she continued, "And don't you ever compare this to what you did. The only person Peter hurt here was himself. How many people did you hurt, Walter? How many lives have you ruined?" She gestured down to Walter's hands, still covered with Peter's blood from the first aid session. " How much blood is on your hands?"
"I know," Walter said dejectedly, his face crumpling. "I was just… I was frightened."
"You were frightened," Olivia said in disgust. "God, I'm sorry Etta and Simon ever put those pieces of your brain back. Because if this," she said, waving her arms angrily at Walter, "If this is the man Peter had to deal with growing up, it's no wonder he was glad when you were sent to St. Claire's."
Astrid followed Peter as far as the doorway to their room and hesitated. "Peter," she called softly inside. A second later, she heard a groan and a muffled thud. Rushing into the room, she found Peter on the floor next to the bed, shaking violently. "Oh, God," she said, crouching next to him. "Olivia! Come quick! He's having a seizure!"
Olivia ran into the room and stared in horror at Astrid struggling to keep Peter from hurting himself as he seized. Walter rushed in behind her with a syringe. "Move!" he commanded. Olivia stepped aside, and Walter crouched next to Astrid. "Hold his leg, please, Astrid," he said softly; as soon as she grabbed Peter's jeans-clad leg, Walter stabbed the syringe into his thigh, depressing the plunger.
It took a few endless seconds until Peter began to calm, his clenched hands relaxing. He slumped bonelessly against Astrid, who had maintained her iron grip on him throughout the seizure. "You're okay now," she murmured as she combed her hand through his hair and kissed the crown of his head. "You're gonna be okay now."
Walter moved over on the floor to allow Olivia to join them. "Peter?" Receiving no response, she looked fearfully at Astrid, who offered her a watery smile.
"It's okay, he's breathing, Olivia," she reassured her.
"Peter," Walter said in a stronger voice. "Peter, I need you to say something, son. Talk to us."
"Come on, Peter, please?" Olivia pleaded. He slurred something nearly incoherent; Olivia's hand flew to her mouth, a heartbroken smile on her face. At Astrid and Walter's confused looks, she said, "He said, 'It's your turn to change her, sweetheart.'" Tears fell, but she laughed.
"Walter?" Astrid looked to the older man.
"Hm. Peter, you need to get up." Again, Peter's words were slurred. "What was that, son?"
"No school today. 'S' a holiday…" Peter muttered, trying to snuggle closer to Astrid.
"So it is," Walter said gently. "It's all right. I think his mind is rebooting itself. His temporal lobe and amygdala are most likely rejecting the effects of the Observer tech, and are trying to regain control of Peter's thought processes. Hence, the seizure. Memory and emotion are winning out over super-rational thought. That's why he's remembering these kinds of moments – quiet moments, moments of rest, of peace and safety and home."
"Home," Peter sighed as his eyes opened. Blearily, he looked up at Astrid. "What… " At the realization that he was on the floor in her arms, he said, "Awkward."
Chuckling, Olivia stroked his cheek. "I don't think your wife will object," she offered.
"Son, are you with us?" Walter asked, his fingers pressed against Peter's neck to check his pulse.
"Dunno," Peter replied, rubbing a shaking hand across his face.
"That'll do for now," Walter said brightly. "Up you go, I need to do a scan, and I can't very well do it here on the floor!"
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