.X.


Part 2


Peter had landed on top of the fake Olivia and a brief rat-tat-tat of gunfire erupted from the front of the auditorium. He looked up and around, hoping he had gotten himself as far away from the energy field as possible and that he wasn't a sitting duck from the goons storming in with their trigger-happy guns.

She started pushing and clawing at him to get off of her, rage flashing across her face. Fauxlivia crawled out from under him.

"Cease fire!" she yelled at the troops.

The soldiers halted their advance at the sound of her voice, guns pointed down, but ready.

Peter tried to get up, but his right foot erupted in agony. It felt like pins and needles were being jabbed into it from all sides from the ankle down. Olivia reached a hand down to Peter and he hesitated before grabbing it and pulling himself up. He managed to put some weight on the foot with only a little grimace. He didn't let go of her hand and pulled her close to him. His breath a whisper in her ear.

"I know who you are," he told her. And she looked at him coolly, calculating. He had no doubt in his mind.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she pulled herself away from him.

She was furious at him and barely hiding it. This was definitely not his Olivia. And that was not his Walter, also looking furious as he walked down the aisle of the theatre followed by another team of swat police at the ready.

"What did you do that for, Peter?" she asked him loudly, fire in her eyes as she put on a show. "We were about to go home!" It was Olivia's voice and her face, but it made his heart pang to know it wasn't her. They'd been so close.

If she was going to keep this little charade going, he was too. "I tripped, sweetheart," he told her, mirroring the fire in his eyes right back to her. She narrowed her eyes. From day one, Peter had irked Olivia with that little word and he was smugly satisfied to find out it worked on this version, too.

What's going on here?" Walter asked as he marched up to them, his trenchcoat billowing behind him, oblivious to the silent war raging.

Before Fauxlivia could even open her mouth, Peter spoke. "They threatened me. They took me hostage, Walter. I managed to escape," he glanced at her. She was harder to read than his Olivia, or maybe he just wasn't used to her. Would she rat herself out or keep up the act? All but the secretary knew the deceit was over.

"Monsters!" AlterWalter said to him in a disgusted tone. "At least you managed to escape, son," he smiled and glanced first at him and then at Olivia. Peter caught the look she gave Walter. Somethings in life were constants stretching across both worlds, he guessed, because even the Walter and Olivia of this world were conspiring against him.

Broyles, in a military style beret and fatigues, came up to the group. "Sir, I have to recommend quarantining the area right away. You and your son will have to leave quickly," he said to Walter. Peter couldn't wrap his head around Broyles calling Walter 'Sir' even though it was happening right in front of him. "If we don't quarantine now, they could use the hole again to get through."

"What's a quarantine?" Peter asked. It didn't sound good. If he needed the hole again to get through, how was he going to find another one? This one was very convenient.

"It plugs the hole permanently so they can't exploit the weakness again. An unfortunate side effect is that it...kills… everyone within the area," Walter told him. "But it's all for the greater good."

"On our side, no one is quarantining anything, no one is getting killed. I've used a device that electrically seals the hole. My father-" it slipped out before he thought about it, "I mean-the other Walter, built it. I was able to take it apart and study it. I believe I can make one for your side."

Walter looked angry for a moment. "Our side," Walter corrected him.

Peter gave the Secretary a shaky smile, he hadn't realized he'd slipped up again. "You're right. Our side." But it felt hollow even to his ears.

But Walter appeared intrigued. "Colonol Broyles, please afford my son whatever he needs to make this device. Set him up at the Fringe Division Lab," he stated proudly.

"Yes, sir, right away," Broyles looked at Peter and motioned at two soldiers. They stepped forward.

"Escort this man to Fringe Division HQ. This is Peter Bishop, the Secretary's son. Get him whatever he needs." They nodded.

Peter gingerly stepped forward but the pins and needles feeling in his foot had still not gotten better and he hobbled over to them.

"Son, are you alright?" Walter asked him, placing a hand on Peter's shoulder.

"I don't know. I might have sprained my ankle. It's nothing," he said trying to wave off the concern.

"Well, we can have them take you to a hospital and have it looked at. I know how advanced the other side is medically, but believe me son, we are far more advanced You'll be back on your feet good as new in ten minutes, even if it's broken."

That sounded too good to be true for Peter. Why be a martyr? He had a job to do and needed to be 100%. "Hospital it is, I guess," Peter agreed. The soldiers got on either side of him and he leaned on them as they made their way down the stairs and off the stage.

When they got outside, Peter got his first-hand look at the effects of the blast he'd heard earlier. His stomach dropped. There were dead bodies lying all around, burnt out husks of cars and flesh littered the street. What if Olivia was caught in the blast? What if her body was lying here and he'd just passed by it without even a glance? Was that how they made the switch? His mouth went dry and he leaned just a bit more heavily on the shoulder of one of the soldiers. He hoped he hadn't trapped himself on this side with a tyrant for a father and a doomsday device made for him only to find out Olivia was dead.

"Are you really Peter Bishop?" the soldier he had leaned a little heavily on asked in awe.

"Uh, yeah," Peter said. "Why?"

"You're only the most famous kidnapping case of all time," the one on his left spoke up.

"Really?" he turned to look at the other guy. He seemed sincere.

"Yeah. I remember it growing up, your face was all over the news channels. A man that looked like your father stole you right in front of your mother. They were both suspects, but the charges were dropped. Your father got involved in politics to find out the real reason behind your disappearance. I guess we just found out, huh Tom?" he looked at his colleague and laughed.

"Yeah. Another universe. Son of a bitch. What's it like over there?" Tom asked him.

"Almost the same," Peter answered. "But still very different."

"You got big bugs running around too? Damn, I'll never get over that," Tom shook his head. "That started about three years ago." They reached a vehicle and opened the doors. Peter got in the back of the armored truck. The soldiers got in front and started the car, driving away from the scene.

"Did someone set off a bomb out here?" he asked as casually as he could.

"Uh, well, it appears that way. We were called in about a minute after, so we didn't see what happened. Leveled everything, from what it looks like."

"Were there any survivors?" Peter asked. He hadn't seen any medical personnel or ambulances tending to the victims.

"Don't know. Like I said, we came in a little late," Tom said.

"Did they capture any of the people from the other side?"

"I don't know. Like I said—" he seemed a little annoyed.

"You came in late. So where was the Secretary?" Peter asked them. His father had showed up a little too quickly. Had they been tipped off?

"Hmm, well he was probably around the block in a staging area, don't want a big wig like that getting in the way. We weren't very far away either. We were lucky to be as far behind as we were, or we'd be smoked pork chops like the rest of them."

Peter stopped asking questions, he had enough answers for now. If Mr. Secretary was right around the corner, with Fauxlivia waiting, they could have caused the distraction and made the switch. The Secretary of Defense, his father, blew up his own troops to infiltrate their side and they almost succeeded. It was making him queasy. He had been so willing to follow this man, so eager...

And where was Olivia?


.X.


Olivia came back to awareness slowly. She was laying across the backseat of a car, hidden behind darkened windows. She tugged at her hands but they were bound tightly behind her. She twisted around and sat up, trying the door handles, but they were locked and there was bullet proof glass between her and the front seat. She leaned close to the glass and looked out the window. She saw movement down the block and she jumped. It was Peter!

He was being led between two heavily armed soldiers and he was looking at the wreckage all around him. It all came back to Olivia in a flash.

She screamed his name as loud as she could.

"Peter!"

He didn't hear her and she watched in vain as the soldiers opened the door and he jumped inside.

"Peter!" She yelled again, not as loud, trying to shake the car at the same time. But she watched the truck pull away and her heart sank. Peter hadn't made it back to the other side. He was still in danger. She was trapped and there was destruction all around her. She hadn't thrown any of the grenades Bell had given her, but something had exploded. If it was any of Bell's, she'd probably be dead by now and not caught up in this nightmare. Did they capture Bell, too?

She hung her head and rested it on the door. They had been so close. So close to getting back. She wondered what went wrong. What would become of her and Peter and Walter. She couldn't believe this was happening. They had failed.