Nothing but lies

Summary: It's probably a troubling sign that her conscience comes in form of the Secretary's son. OneShot.

Warning: Not sure about Walternate's title and Ella's age. Feel free to correct me.

Set: Post-Amber 31422, so spoilers for episode 05.3

Disclaimer: No copyright inFringement intended.

She can still hear her voice.

Small, child-like, full of happiness, anticipation and expectancy. Ella's voice. It is the voice of her niece, the voice of a girl that has turned eight years old today. It is the voice of a child which doesn't exist.

At least not on this side.

Olivia sits at the window of the living-room and stares outside into a night that seems blacker than usual. Maybe it is new moon – she never really cared for the moon calendar since it did not affect her sleeping patterns. Or maybe this night seems so dark because she feels so… lost. She feels like she does not belong here, like she is a stranger desperately trying to fit in but standing out nevertheless. And if she believes what she has seen, when she believes what her head and the ghostly figure of the secretary's son try to tell her, then she is an intruder. An impostor, a marionette, a stranger. If she believes what her heart is telling her, she really does not belong here at all.

She has lied to them.

I didn't go anywhere, I didn't see anything. It just was all black.

Yes, she has lied to the Secretary and his head scientist because if it's true what she thinks (and feels) they have lied to her even more. They have lied to her and forced her into a universe she does not belong, they have tampered with her memories and her emotions alike. And she does not feel the slightest bit of guilt knowing what she has done because she knows what they must have done to her first.

Shivering, she wraps her arms around her and closes her eyes.

Okay. So if she is right, then she isn't Olivia Dunham. No, that isn't right. She is Olivia Dunham, but she isn't the Olivia Dunham from this side. She belongs on the other side. On the side on which the WTC has been attacked by terrorists, on which her mother has died years ago and her sister is mother to a beautiful little girl named Ella.

And she has talked to her.

Another possibility, of course, is that there is another Olivia Dunham on the other side who has a niece and a sister and she is the Olivia Dunham on this side who has a mother and works for the Fringe Division and who is in a stable, happy relationship. If they are able to implant memories, it might be the other way round, as well. But how is she supposed to know which way is right?

You don't always need proof, Olivia. Why don't you just believe what your heart tells you?

It probably is a troubling sign that her conscience came in form of the Secretary's son. There he is again, as soon as she opens her eyes, leaning against the door frame casually. He is wearing a dark sweater and his hair is slightly mussed. His smile is warm and cynical at the same time.

You have seen it, you have talked to Ella, and you still don't believe me? What do I have to do to convince you?

"You're in my head. You don't exist."

That one's starting to bore me. Don't you think there is a reason for my coming again and again to tell you what you already know? And haven't you seen proof that I am right? I'm in your head. I only know stuff you know. You think I'm lying? Can you lie to yourself, Olivia?

"You tell me," she answers, fed up with always having to force herself to believe he isn't real. She isn't sure whether she is the person she believes she is, so she is going mad anyway. Who cares whether she talks to ghosts or… whatever?

I'll tell you.

He walks over – walks? and sits down on the sofa right next to her. The cushions don't give under his nonexistent weight. His eyes bore into hers.

You know you don't belong here. You know there is a reason why they have given you her memories, forced you to be her. You know they are planning something because they are trying to get you to cross over. It seems like you have this ability but the other Olivia hasn't, so they need you, and the other Olivia has gone in your place to make sure nobody notices you are gone. She probably has a mission on the other side, too, and since we know Walter – this Walter – is planning on destroying our side, it has to be something dangerous. Dangerous for us, for our side. And you know this isn't a lie, it's the truth. So what are you going to do, Olivia?

She has to think about his words for a while, because he has used pronouns she never thought she'd hear him utter again. But he is in her head, isn't he, so why shouldn't he use them?

Our side. Us. We.

"I have to find out what they are planning," she finally says carefully. "And I have to find a way to contact…"

Contact you? Contact Peter? She settles for another way. "I have to find a way to tell Broyles. The one on … the one on the other side."

The ghostly man in front of her nods encouragingly.

That sounds like a plan.

Olivia gets up. "I have to…"

First, you have to get some rest.

His voice is calm, but insistent. She considers it slowly. Yes, maybe he is right. She should get some sleep, she should probably eat something, as well. There is no way she will be able to function without rest. But God, she wishes she could.

Suddenly, revelation comes crashing down on her.

She is on the wrong side. She does not belong here. She belongs on the other side, with Rachel and Ella and Walter and Astrid and Broyles and – and Peter. She belongs with Peter. She has to get back – she wants to get back – she wants to see him again, to hear his voice, feel his hand on hers. She came to this side to get him back and she has succeeded – he has gone home. But now, she is here, and the other Olivia is with him. That's not right. As sudden as the revelation, sickness follows at the thought of Peter smiling at her other self, talking to her, listening to her, touching her. Kissing her.

Hey.

The ghost of the Secretary's son watches her with concerned eyes.

Everything okay?

No. Nothing is fine and she sees a ghost in her living-room. She is seeing the ghost of the man she loves and nothing is okay. Everything is just one great lie: She told Peter he belonged with her and now he is with her other self. He told her he cared for her and he probably isn't even able to distinguish both her selves from another. Her entire life here has been a lie. She has no mother, she has no boyfriend, she hasn't even got Charlie anymore. Everything around her is a lie. True, it is a beautiful one. But that doesn't make it less painful.

"Yes," she lies and turns into the direction of the bathroom.

He doesn't follow her.