The house is completely dark when Peter gets back home. He doesn't bother turning a light on as he lets himself in, tracing a weary and familiar path up the stairs as he makes his way to the bedroom.
Olivia's in bed and though its dark and he can't see her face, he doesn't believe for a second that she's actually asleep. He decides not to confirm his theory however, sitting on his side of the bed and instead makes quick work of undressing. He discards his jeans on the floor and then proceeds to strip his coat and shirt off and, vaguely surprised as his hands come in contact with damp patches of fabric.
A violent shudder passes through his body as he brings the shirt up to his nose, and inhales deeply, breathing in the mingled scents of sage and lavender and human tears from when his daughter had spent all night crying into his chest and holding on so tightly to him that the fragrance of her shampoo had bled through into his clothing, and he has to clench his jaws together so furiously that his teeth gnash against each other and he barely gets through the urge to cry.
He can feel the indentations that her tiny nails have left on the back of his neck as she had dug into his skin, desperately holding on, as he had attempted to peel her of his person, crying and fighting back with every ounce of strength her little body could muster.
Peter had never known his daughter to throw a single tantrum in all of her four years. She had always been much too clever for that, choosing willful manipulation through her charms over messy and loud protest any day. "She gets that from you," Olivia had said when Peter had remarked on Etta's ability to pretty much get her way with everything and everybody.
"And of course it doesn't help that all she has to do is look at you and you'll bend over backwards to do her bidding." She had joked, but her voice betraying a hint of worry at his pathological inability to deny her anything.
Which is why he hadn't quite known how to handle Etta when she had uncharacteristically wailed and trashed against him as he had tried to put her down, kicking and screaming like the many kids he had seen at airports and parks, as anxious and slightly frazzled parents attempted to quiet them down, always thankful that he was not one of them.
"Stop it honey, please…" He had pleaded with her unable to bear her distress, futilely attempting to calm her down as she cried in big breathy gulps, struggling for oxygen, her petite frame shaking in his arms but still stubbornly holding on almost like she was trying to weld herself to his body.
"It's okay baby, I am not going away. Just please stop crying okay," He had finally said unable to take it anymore. It was a terrible lie but he couldn't help it, worried that she would give herself a panic attack if he didn't get her to stop. He stopped fighting her steely grip around his neck and settled her into his lap and rocked her gently, rubbing her back till she wasn't struggling to breathe anymore and murmured soft words of comfort into her hair and for a few moments, as he reveled in that feeling he almost forgot what he was about to do.
"You promise?"
"I promise…"-
"Peter..." Nina had called out from behind him after what seemed like an eternity had passed, her voice understanding but betraying her anxiety. "We have to leave…soon. It's not safe here. " She had been beyond patient for the past hour as Peter had unsuccessfully tried to get Etta to get into the car that was to take them both to an undisclosed location, where she could be hidden and kept safe. She understood how difficult it was for him to do this but she also knew she had to be the voice of reason if they were going to successfully pull this off.
"I know…" his throat constricted, " Just… give me a few moments, please..." he said and then tilted Etta's face , which was buried in his chest, bringing up to his gaze, brushing the damp blond locks of her face and as their identical eyes met, he saw her face change with an understanding. Without words she seemed to know that she wouldn't get her way this time around.
"Etta…" her name came out like a plea, almost a prayer… and he wanted to tell her so much, explain so much, but couldn't when he saw the look of comprehension on her face.
"You're leaving me aren't you daddy?" It wasn't an accusation, but the way her eyes looked at him, he knew it was just that. For the first time, he saw in his daughter's eyes the pain of betrayal and to know he had caused it, tore at his insides.
"I have to honey, you'll understand someday, I promise," He had whispered back, still unable to tear himself from her gaze which seemed to seeing into the very depths of his soul. "I love you more than you'll ever know." He told her, running his hands desperately through her hair, trying to register everything he could about her for one last time…
… before he gave her up to some unknown future.
"I love you too daddy," she said quietly, without much emotion. He saw a placid almost catatonic calm overcoming her in the next few moments as she let her hands unclasp from behind his neck, slipping away from him in mind and body, all resistance gone, seemingly resigned to whatever fate her father had forsaken her to.
And in the end that's what really breaks his heart, even more than the animated shrieking and the violent desperation with which she had fought his decision to leave her behind.
No, it's the way she finally crumples like a paper doll, going so limp in his arms that he has to consciously listen for her heartbeat just to be reminded that she's alive and breathing. It's in the way she remains unresponsive as he belts her into her car seat, and he's not even sure she's aware of anything anymore, as he runs her hands over her smooth cheek, trying to mouth words of assurance that he's not even sure she's processing, not able to resist the urge to kiss her just one more time that Peter remembers thinking that anything would be a welcome respite from having to see his child like this…so lifeless.
"She'll be fine," Nina says squeezing his shoulder, fighting back tears as she gets into the car herself. Peter doesn't say anything, nodding with a stormy expression on his face that doesn't come close to displaying anything that he feels in that moment.
"She tends to kick off her blankets in the middle of night," he swallows painfully as the random thought occurs to him. "Make sure you tell," he breathes deeply still grappling over the fact that some stranger he doesn't even know will have custody over the precious life he had created with the woman he loved, "…whoever to tuck her in tight."
"I will… she'll be taken care of Peter. I promise." And she starts the car and Peter has this insane urge to tell her to stop, to abandon this ridiculous plan and yank Etta out of that car and just take her back home with him. And maybe tomorrow, they could stay up in bed and watch cartoons all day long and tonight will have been nothing more than a bad dream.
But all he does is stand there as the car revs up and speeds away, standing there for a long time after the vehicle is out of sight.
"Is it done?" a soft voice breaks through the reverie of his thoughts and he realizes that it's Olivia and he turns around to where she's lying still. She's in fact awake even though her back is still turned to him.
"Yeah," he whispers hoarsely, cringing at the harsh sob that he gets in response, but not quite daring to go to her aid just yet.
In all the years he has known her; it's the only time he has seen Olivia run away from a situation, and he knows that there is scant hope for the future when the strongest person he has ever known couldn't bring herself to face the hardest decision they've had to make.
"I can't," she had pleaded with him, refusing steadfastly to go with him tonight, her eyes a stormy green as tears flowed from them freely. "I can't say goodbye to her. Please don't make me," She had asked him in childlike words, words that Etta would use... and Peter had simply nodded, kissed her gently and left it at that.
And even though he had wanted her by his side tonight, wanted more than anything to have her strength to fall back on as he left their daughter behind, he can't help thinking that it's a small mercy she wasn't there after all. Because he knows the intense bond they share, Etta and Olivia, the way they amplify each other's emotions to a point where they often feel one and the same thing and while over the years, Olivia had learned to efficiently control her feelings to spare her daughter from being overwhelmed as she could at times , there's really no way she could have protected their daughter tonight from the onslaught of her pain and guilt
"I felt her," she's saying now, her voice shaky and she's still not looking at him but Peter can sense every expression her face is taking on, her silhouette further curling into herself and away from him. "I felt everything Peter. She was in so much pain and she was so scared," She chokes out and Peter almost wants to punch his fist through a wall if it'll stop the rage coursing through him at this unspeakable cruelty the universe has served them.
And then she finally turns to him and he thinks he'll simply die, cease to exist when he sees the look of indescribable aguish written all over her face, completely devoid of color.
"And the worst part is we're responsible," she continues, closing her eyes, trying to stem the flow of tears before she opens them again.
"We did this to her. We brought her into this world and then we abandoned her. We've caused her so much suffering, Peter and I felt every bit of it. What kind of parents would do this to their own child?"
"Olivia…"
"I am responsible for this," she's telling him now, her voice laced with self- disgust, recoiling violently from the hand he tries to lay on her cheek.
"Olivia..."
"I did this to her. I am the reason she has these abilities and her life is in danger because of that. It's my fault she has to go through all this. It's all my fault," she's hugging herself and crying so hard now and Peter fees like he that he'll never feel as humanely worthless as he does in that moment.
"I am so sorry Peter. I am sorry I did this to her, to us… I am sorry baby... I am sorry…" she keeps repeating the broken apology over and over….
"Olivia…" he takes her name again, not sure how he can help her through the private hell she's putting herself through.
"Liv, please… it's not your fault. None of this is." He says uselessly, not sure if any words can console her tonight.
Not sure if the both of them can even survive tonight.
So he does the only thing he can think of and lies next to her and pulls her into a frighteningly close embrace, despite her resistance and lets her cry into his chest, just like his daughter had not that long ago.
He feels her tears fall against him all night and even as if he thinks, there can't be suffering worse than this, he refuses to let himself cry, to allow himself that luxury.
Because if he gives into the weakness and catharsis that tears can bring, his anger will have weakened and he can't have that. He needs all the rage he can muster to drive him against them if he has to piece his family back together, no matter how long it takes.
What kind of parents would do this to their own child?
The kind who didn't have a choice Liv… he thinks to himself
