Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I had no idea reviews could make me so happy! ! I'm having a LOT of fun writing this story. Hopefully you'll have just as much fun reading it!

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Chapter 2- Hope

He opened his eyes and for a moment, couldn't see a thing. He lay still in the dark and slowly, his surrondings came into focus. He was lying on the cold ground, water soaking into his back. There was a deep, musty smell hanging in the air. Dead leaves. He was in a forest. He grunted, sitting up. His whole body was sore and stiff, and his shirt was wet all over the back.

He put his hand out behind him, feeling until he found the rough bark of the tree. He leaned back against it, looking up at the sky. No stars flecked the night and the moon was barely a sliver, not lighting the ground around him enough to see anything. It was quiet out. No wind rustled, no animals stirred.

"Hello," came a voice, right above him. He nearly jumped out of his skin. He scrambled to the side, prodding at the ground until he grabbed a large stick. He held it up threateningly.

"Who are you?" he asked. A small woman crouched across him. She almost seemed to glow, illuminating the woods around her. She was tiny. Small and slender, thick blond hair cascaded down her back. Her skin was as pale as fresh snow with a strange green tinge and her eyes were unnaturally huge and sparkling blue. Her head tilted quizzicly to the side, and her round lips tilted up into a smile. She barely seemed human, but in a strange way, she was beautiful.

"Does it really matter? I am here to help you," she purred. Her voice was high pitched, but it resonated deeply.

"Great," he muttered, clambering up. She stood up with him. She was wearing strange clothing. It was a tank top and skirt, but they were badly tattered and stained with black and crimson liquids. She wore no shoes, and clutched a shawl around her shoulders. For some reason, she felt familiar.

"That's right," she smiled. "Sense me. You know."

He closed his eyes and reached out to her with his mind. He was so close to knowing who she was… but he pulled back, abruptly snapping the connection.

"I don't have time for this bullshit," he growled, striding away. But what was it he had to do?

"You're going the wrong way," she lilted. He turned around, staring at her for a minute, then strode the way she was pointing. It was nice here, cool out, but not too cold. There was a strange smell lingering in the air, but it was a good smell. As he walked, the trees grew less and less frequent. The tangle of vines and tall grass beneath his feet slowly turned into stones in some sort of pattern.

Pattern. He was here because of the pattern. He had to focus. He had to do whatever he had to and get back. For Walter. Astrid. Olivia. He had gotten distracted. Cursing himself, he drew their faces in his mind. Astrid's smiling face. Walter, chuckling. Olivia, with her long hair and amazing eyes and perfect smile…

"Who is she?" asked the girl, materializing next to him. He jumped. He had thought she had disappeared a little ways back.

"A little warning next time?" he growled.

"Someone you care about?" she pressed.

"Who?"

"The girl you were just thinking about."

"How do you know what I was thinking?" he asked. She just smiled.

"Yeah," he finally said. "Someone I care about."

"And does she care about you?" she asked, the smile on her face growing until it stretched (almost literally) from ear to ear.

"I don't know," he said softly. "I hope so."

* * * * *

Peter thrashed like a fish. His back arched so high, Olivia feared he was going to hurt himself. He poured out sweat by the gallons, he was covered with dead skin. Walter was taking reading after reading of his heart, blood pressure, and brain activity. He barked out orders to Astrid to change the drips, to pulse electricity into the chair, to inject him with some fluid or other. It was up to Olivia to wipe his face or to put the bit in his mouth so he didn't swallow his own tongue.

She didn't have a chance to eat. Peter had started raking his nails against his palms, drawing blood. She cleaned it off, forced small juggling balls into his hands so he would squeeze those instead. He was burning with fever, the cold water did nothing to help. Olivia felt so bad for him, she felt physically sick. Her entire body ached for him, for his pain. He was tensing up so much, he burst a blood vessel in his wrist.

His back spasmed again, higher this time. Olivia heard something crack. She pushed down on his chest, trying to keep him still, and something under her left hand gave and she found herself wrist deep in blood. He had broken a rib and she had just forced it up through the skin.

"Be careful, dammit," barked Walter, but he wasn't angry. He laughed again, maniacal laughing. For the first time, Olivia found herself honestly fearing him. She had had no idea he could be so cruel. He could do this to his own son. But then she looked again, truly looked, and saw the fear hidden in his eyes. He was almost as afraid as she was.

Olivia grabbed a length of gauze, wrapping it around his chest. They had nothing else and there wasn't time to get anything better.

A knock rang out. Walter muttered something obscene under his breath and Astrid answered got it. Charlie strode in, but pulled up short when he saw Peter. Spazaming, dripping sweat and blood, and moaning, he was an awful sight. Olivia tried to wring her washcloth over his face again as he started to noislessly cry, but ran out of water. She hurried over to the sink and Charlie came up beside her.

"I am so not going to ask," he muttered, glancing over just as Astrid pumped electricity into the chair. Olivia nodded wearily, pushing her hair back.

"Listen. You want me to take a turn?" asked Charlie. His reluctance was clear, but his question was sincere.

"Thanks. But he asked me to stay with him. I have to do this," she answered, smiling weakly at her friend.

"You really care about him, don't you?" said Charlie.

"He's one of my closest friends," she said, looking down.

"That's not what I meant," said Charlie seriously, looking down at the blond. When she gave no response, he gave up and asked, "Will he be alright after this?"

"I hope so."

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So I brought Charlie into this chapter. We won't see too much of him (I grind my teeth everytime he has any screen time on the show and my least favorite quote is when he asks Olivia if Walter is stoned), but I figured I might as well. Also, there's not much action in this chapter. I promise to try and put more in the next! I forgot the disclaimer last time, so here it is: I do not own Fringe. I do not own Olivia, or Peter, or Walter, or Astrid, or Charlie (thank GOD). Anyways, REVIEW. How about this: if you leave a review, I promise to respond. Cross my heart and hope to… well, I don't hope to die, but I do hope to join the Fringe Division!