WARNINGS: Do not archive without my knowledge. Written by a non-native English speaker. Not proof-read. Pardon me.

CHAPTER RATING: R (The F word is used. Blink and you'll miss it).


CHAPTER 2 –

HOW CAN I HURT WHEN I'M HOLDING YOU?

Weaponised.

That's the word Walter used. Peter isn't even sure if it exists on the dictionary. He doesn't check though. He won't. He refuses to take his father's words seriously. Walter is just being Walter – overreacting, reading too much into it, worrying too much about him, as he usually does.

Lying in his bed, all alone in the house, and with his father gone with Astrid to browse for god only knows what, Peter can breathe at last and think things through. Those were rare moments, when he would find himself away from Walter and Olivia all at once. After all, his job never leaves him many options: he is either with his father on the lab, or either with Agent Duhnam chasing after some criminal. With the latter, he has far too many unresolved matters to be at ease, and with Walter, things are only getting worse.

Peter refuses to give in to his father's delusions. He's perfectly fine, and absolutely conscious of what he is doing. Nothing is taking control over him, nor is his temper being changed by an outside force – such as a doom's day machine that was much likely built by an ancient people who lived before the dinosaurs. That would be overly far-fetched – even for them, working on the Fringe Division.

The truth is much simpler: Peter has merely grown tired of doing nothing but react when they keep attacking them mercifully.

In fact, Peter has grown tired of many things in his life, most of them work-related. For starters, he has a hard time calling his role on the Fringe Division a "job". It is more likely a "life", and this thought alone is enough to bother him.

Also, there is Walter.

There is always Walter. After all, he is the reason why Peter finds himself where he is now – and this sentence is true in every possible interpretation, he thinks bitterly, while sitting up on the bed and leaning against the wall, the thoughts making him too restless to just lay there.

Things had been different, colder, between Peter and Walter, since the events Over There. He knows and he feels that he will never be able to completely love Walter as a father any more – he was trying and almost achieving that goal short before he found out the truth. Now, however, things are different, but they are handling a civilised, almost father-son relationship, albeit the new light that the truth has cast on Walter. At some stressful nights, he feels like snapping at his father with some harsh comment, but before he can summon those words, he looks into Walter eyes and he sees it – he doesn't have to remind him of that. In the past two years, his father has become gradually aware of all the damages he has inflicted on the world(s) and on other people, and these ghosts are now a constant presence around him. Peter feels it's only fair, so he holds back the urge to inflict more pain upon that man who is, all the at once, the reason for all his pain and all his (brief) joy.

Peter reaches out for his nightstand and grabs a coin, which isn't there by accident – he already has it strategically placed for his use when he wants to let some of his stress out. Since he got back from the Other Side, he has flipped over that coin far too many times...

After the shapeshifters killings, though, things have become almost insufferable on the Bishop's residence, and from time to time Peter has found himself snapping at Walter. The man just won't let go of his son's actions, even though Peter has a clean conscience about it. He knows he wasn't doing anything wrong – it might seem brutal, he admits that much, but it wasn't wrong per se.

And then there is Olivia. Or Olivias.

Those work moments (meaning, his entire life) he shares with her have grown exponentially oppressive to Peter – and lately, even the spare times he happens to share (even if briefly and completely by accident) with Olivia makes him feels like he has a knife stuck to his windpipe, of which he can just get rid when he's away from her.

That thought, he thinks, is even more painful than the knife itself.

Peter gets up from his bed and walks towards the desk, covered with entries from the other Olivia's journal, scattered and with markings he made on important passages.

Olivia. The name echoes in his mind, and without noticing, Peter drops the coin.

He misses her.

He misses their talks, and the easiness between them while bantering, and the way she would smile coyly when he snapped a smart-ass comment about something. He misses the other Olivia, the Olivia before she went Over There, that would share a rare laugh with him once in a while, and who truly enjoyed his company. Since she got back, she isn't the same – "isolated" doesn't even start to describe her. She has never been an easy person to socialise, but lately, it was a whole new level of aloof. What had hurt the most was how eager she was to be around him before he cut her off with his truth. Now he doesn't even have the bond they shared, the friendship that went beyond romance.

He knows she needs time to think it through. He knows she needs her breathing space right now. He knows she won't be able to look into his eyes for quite some time. He knows it will take her even longer to forgive him. He knows a lot of things when it comes to Olivia Duhnam – but knowing things doesn't make it any less painful.

I don't wanna be with you.

That statement hurt him in several different levels – more than he could grasp or understand. It felt worse than discovering about the other Olivia's true identity. It felt worse than the betrayal, the lies, the bitterness, the confusion and unfairness of it, when he thought his chest might burst with pain. It felt worse than the guilt he feels over thinking of the other Olivia, and how he still cherishes the moments they had together.

Because he does.

He thinks about those moments a lot. He just can't help it.

After reading her notes, the ones regarding him, the ones mentioning him so dearly, Peter felt light-headed, and for a split second he forgot about his goal – to find out pertinent info about the ones from Over There and the Device.

He doesn't know what to make of it. He doesn't know what to make of himself and of what he feels about the two women who are the same and are both in love with him.

The pain is physical.

He feels physically ill when he thinks about the Olivias, and his blindness, and his feelings towards the other Olivia, and his love for his Olivia, and all the good moments that now he has to turn into bad ones even though they were wonderful and gave him the unmistakable feeling of belonging and oh god how the fuck could all of that be even possible or bearable in one's life...

It isn't right.

It isn't fair.

No one should have to choose between two versions of the same person.

But yet, who in this world had faced this kind of problem?

Peter laughs bitterly. No one, of course. And somehow, he is supposed to be the one to go through the absurdity of it all and remain sane and righteous. How is he supposed to do that, he thinks, as he pulls a drawer open and picks up two different photos – one, with the other Olivia, making all sorts of faces to the camera. The other, with the Olivia from this universe, a picture taken almost by accident.

He doesn't have the eidetic memory of Olivia, but he remembers that day in full details. Walter was making an experiment that required a camera and Astrid snapped a photo of Peter and Olivia talking, and by yet another accident, it was right on the moment that Olivia smiled at him.

Olivia.

She never asked for a copy of the photo, but Peter was eager to have his. It was the only picture they had together that didn't involve a crime scene where they were into frame by accident.

He puts down the two photos and sighs.

He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what to feel. His mind races in a million different directions, but all of them lead to the same place: a dead end. How can things feel so wrong when he is so close from the ones he loves?

Peter hears the door being opened downstairs, and muffled voices. "Peter, son, we're back!" he hears Walter calling out.

His brief moment of quietness flies out the window without waving goodbye, leaving him with only a heavy sigh and the burden of two worlds and two Olivias in his shoulders.

His Olivia won't let him breathe anymore.

She needs time, he tells himself. "Son! Please, come downstairs! You're going to love what we bought you!"

Peter gives the desk a small punch, irritated. "Gimme a second!"

He has been patient. He has given her all the space she can possibly need – and even then he knows it isn't enough, but there is not much else he can do about it.

Sha makes him feel like he doesn't belong. Anywhere. Not here, with her, not Over There, with the other her. He is trapped is some kind of void between the two worlds, from where he can only watch her from a distance, but never claim her to himself.

Amidst the confusion and the unfairness of all things, Peter knows what he has to do. He has already set himself into a mission, one that will have tangible conclusions.

He needs this mission. He craves it. He'd go insane if he doesn't have a mission. Olivia would drive him insane, so he sets off to something other than her.

The Device.

Peter will figure it out.

Peter will figure it out in order to save everyone. Walter is mistaken: he isn't doing anything wrong. He can't possibly be doing anything wrong. He wants to save them all, over here and over there.

And then, maybe Olivia will be able to look into his eyes without killing him with her grief.

Maybe.

"Son!"

"Coming!" Peter takes a deep breathe before opening his bedroom's door and stepping outside.


END NOTES: Title was taken from an U2's song called "A Man and a Woman".

Ok, now: this is Peter's POV. It doesn't mean that everything that he thinks is right. I, for once, do believe that the machine has changed him somehow, even if it is only regarding the lack of regret he has about killing those shapeshifters. And, poor Walter. It takes a bad man to recognise another.

I think we'll have two more chapters to end all this angst once and for all. Sorry if I rambled too much with Peter, it's just that he's my favourite character and to me he is in a whole new level of Screwed Up – I know Olivia has been through some big sh!t herself, but I don't think she has as much going on as Peter does right now on the show.

Also, I'm changing the story's rating. I think we'll have a lil' more swearing ahead, but nothing too exaggerated, I hope.