A/N - Sorry about the late update guys. I had an idea and due to the idea had to restructure the ENTIRE concept.

So, as always...I don't own Fringe. But I did ask for Joshua Jackson for Xmas. Nothing else, I am easy to shop for.

Enjoy guys. Read and review

xo

Chapter Two - Losing Touch

Olivia was examining herself in the mirror when Peter arrived. Basic bruising was a very loose term for what she was seeing. There was a dense line across her chest from her seatbelt, her left side was darkening with bruising, starting just under her arm and ending just above her hip. In an attempt to make herself seem a little more human, she had brushed her hair, wincing as the hard teeth of the comb found the marble sized lump just above her hairline. She had a few cuts too, mainly to her body, a few to her face. She knew that they were lucky but the continuous throb of her body argued against her.

"Olivia?"

"I'm in the bathroom."

"Can I come in?"

Olivia flicked the lock on the door and Peter slipped in, closing it behind him. He greeted her with a quick kiss before his gaze locked on her battered body.

"Shit."

Olivia looked at the bag in his hands.

"Apparently, this is what basic bruising passes for now days. Plus, I've had worse. Clothes?"

He handed her the bag and watched as she tried to get dressed as quickly as possible. Peter worried enough without physical evidence to provide him with more ammunition. She struggled to pull on the basic white undershirt before tugging on the jeans, jumper and coat. She instantly felt more human then she had a few hours ago. Under hospital policy, she had to be in a wheelchair, only moving from it once they were outside the actual hospital. She felt ridiculous with Peter pushing her, whistling slightly to himself. She barely made it out of the building before making a move to step out of the chair, humiliating herself further as her ribs thumped painfully from her sudden movement. She gasped, her hand instantly finding her side.

"I keep forgetting."

Peter cupped her elbow and she let him support her as she tried to straighten. Eventually she was at her full height again, Peter's arm around her waist as they made their way back to the car. Once he had her settled in the passenger side, he started the drive home.

"How bad is it?"

"What?"

"The car"

Peter frowned.

"Not the best. Most of the damage was on your side. It could have been far worse."

"My ribs disagree."

"So does my head."

Olivia glanced at his face, noticing a few minor cuts the crash caused.

"I'm sorry Peter."

"For what?"

"For hurting you"

Peter shook his head.

"Don't be ridiculous."

She let the argument drop and focused on the idea that she had a few days off. Peter had to help her into the house and she felt completely useless as she struggled to take off her jacket.

"Do you want me to run you a bath?"

Olivia opened her mouth to protest before the distinctive ache in her body made her think twice.

"Do you mind?"

Peter gave her a quick smile before ducking into the bathroom. She could hear him humming to himself as the water started. Olivia remained in the kitchen and started making herself something to eat. Peter had picked up a fresh loaf of bread yesterday and she pulled out four pieces of the thick, grainy bread. By the time Peter had come out of the bathroom, she was putting the finishing the touches on the ham sandwiches. Peter shook his head at her as she handed him the plate.

"You should be resting."

"I'm hungry. And I made you one. Just consider yourself lucky."

She watched him eat.

"Is it bad?"

Pete cocked his head slightly as he chewed. She reached over and lightly touched the gauze.

"Your head."

"Just three stitches. Not even enough for a cool scar."

Olivia snorted.

"I never understood the thing with men and scars."

"It makes us look tough."

"I have scars."

Peter leaned forward and used his thumb to wipe some mustard off the corner of her mouth.

"But you are the exception."

"You're bias."

"I know. Sad, isn't it?"

Olivia ate the rest of her sandwich before heading to the bathroom. Her aching muscles relaxed almost instantly. She closed her eyes and let her body sink further into the hot water.


Olivia blinked a few times and in those seconds something in the bathroom shifted. The room seemed dimmer, colder and danker. She looked down and realized that the bathtub was empty and she was fully clothed. She went to ease herself out of the tub, surprised to find that her side didn't hurt at all. The bath mat felt soft and familiar beneath the balls of her feet as she approached the mirror. She wasn't alone. The girl was there again, as clear as she had been the night before on the road. Olivia studied her carefully, taking in as much detail as possible. After a moment, their eyes locked and the desperation and fear was there again, thick and lingering.

"Who are you?"

Her voice was shaky and she felt chilled to the bone. Her stomach twisted as the girl shifted slightly closer. Her lips formed and moved over words that Olivia couldn't hear. She extended her arms and the slashes were there, deep and violent against the pale skin. She could hear the drops, smell the copper that drifted lazily in the air. Olivia was finding it hard to breathe.

"Please, let me help you."

The girl opened her mouth and started to scream. It was nothing that Olivia had ever heard before. The force of it pushed her to her knees and made her feel like she was fracturing from the inside out. She clamped her hands over her ears, the sound making her head pound. She looked up and saw the blood spilling from the girl's mouth, thick and fast, a never ending flow.

"Stop."

Olivia could feel the fear coursing through body, a jagged blade that tore at the very core of her.

"Stop. Please. Stop."

The scream continued and the blood was starting to pool at Olivia's feet, warm and sticky and she fought the urge to vomit. She closed her eyes tight and with what little energy she had left, she fought back.

"STOP!"

It came out in a scream, pale in comparison to the girl's but it was suddenly silent, her scream mixing with the thick, copper scent of spilt blood.


When Olivia finally looked again, she was sitting in the corner of a normal bathroom. Olivia stayed where she was, tears coursing down her cheeks. And that is where Peter found her a second or so later, obviously a reaction to the scream.

"Olivia, what's wrong?"

Olivia shook her head, her eyes locked on where the girl had been, waiting for her to return.

"She was here."

Peter looked around the bathroom before his eyes focused back on Olivia. She only just realized that she was shivering because she was naked, a small puddle of water forming beneath her.

"Who?"

"The girl on the road. She was here. I had a dream last night, she was there and I must have fallen asleep in the bathtub. She came back."

Peter knelt beside her, placing his arm around her shoulders.

"Liv, you banged-"

"This has nothing to do with my head. I swerved to avoid her before the crash. She was here Peter and there is something wrong. She had these cuts, she was bleeding. It was everywhere, I could smell it and then she started to scream and -"

She started crying again, ignoring Peter's shimmer. She was terrified, she could feel the acid of it at the back of her throat. Peter stopped protesting, pulling a robe around her naked shoulders, rubbing her arms, trying to warm her up again. They stayed there, curled in the corner until Olivia stopped shaking and the ache had returned to her body.


She waited until Peter was asleep before slipping from his embrace. She didn't want to have the dream again but she knew she had to find out who that girl was. She had a clear imprint of her in her head and perhaps that would help. She grabbed her laptop and headed to the living room. She accessed the FBI database and started flicking through the missing persons files. She wasn't even sure what she was looking for, all she knew what was the girl looked like, no age or scars. That was where Peter found her a few hours later, hunched over the laptop, a large mug of coffee beside her.

"You didn't sleep."

"It's hard to sleep when you're going crazy."

Peter touched her hand, frowning slightly.

"You're freezing."

Olivia looked down at her bare arms and for the first time noticed the goose pimples that dotted her flesh. She didn't feel cold. Peter grabbed the blanket off the back of the sofa, folding it a few times before placing it around Olivia's shoulder's. He glanced at the screen.

"What are you doing?"

Olivia continued to flick through the images of the young woman on the screen. It was getting depressing just how many people were missing. She pondered for a moment how many had disappeared due to the altercations with the other side.

"Trying to find her."

"A ghost?"

Olivia shook her head.

"One thing I learnt from Walter is that everything has a rational explanation, regardless of how unbelievable the truth may be. She's not a ghost. She was real."

"If she's so real, then how can she get to you?"

"I would love to know. But she's real. As solid as you or me."

Peter nodded but Olivia knew that on some level, he didn't believe her. She almost didn't believe herself. But she heard the scream, smelt the blood and could feel the desperation and fear. And it wasn't her own. A few years ago, it would have been easy for her to dismiss this as nothing more then a result of a head injury but her mind had been altered with the exposure to the world of Fringe. And by the experience with John. Nothing could convince her that the girl was not real. So she did the only thing that she could, she kept searching. Peter refilled her coffee cup and turned on the T.V but she could do nothing but focus on the files in front of her.