Yeah, so. There was supposed to be one more chapter before this one, but writers block officially left me with no ideas. Absolutely nothing. So I apologize for this jumping to this so quickly. But I'm sure you will enjoy it. :')

It was a good thing the moon was so bright that night, or there would have been no light at all. The way the water was illuminated almost made it look dream like. Appropriate; given that was how she felt. She hadn't been back here in years, and this was her last chance to change things. She put all of her hopes into this mission because if this didn't work; she didn't know what she would do. She couldn't think about that, not now.

She got as close to the water as possible, stumbling on the unsteady ground a couple of times. She placed Walter's device in the wet sand and did exactly as he had told her to do. Pushing every button accordingly and precisely. She would not screw this up. She was heavily dosed with Cortexiphan at the moment and she could feel it running heavily through her veins. It was a strange feeling, hard to describe, but she always felt sort of off when her abilities were activated. And she hadn't used her abilities in years, she almost had forgotten what it felt like. She pulled her satchel securely over her shoulder, all it contained was an extra set of clothes and a stack of ten dollar bills-the largest currency that was the same on the Other Side. Olivia activated the device, closing her eyes and letting her mind slip away. The tranquil sounds of the woods around her helped ease her mind, and she was grateful for that. She waited. The device clicked. One…Two…Three…

Nothing.

She tried again, and a third time, and a fourth. Still nothing. She cursed out loud, a fury of anger building inside of her as she pounded on the device in frustration. Her anger only turned to despair, a lump in her throat formed after the fifth time she tried with no luck. She kneeled in the sand, the bottoms of her jeans becoming unavoidably soaked from the water only feet away, but she was beyond caring. She had prepared herself for this, but that didn't stop the tears that she tried so hard to suppress. Like it mattered; there was no one around.

She was alone, like she had been for so long. And evidently; like she would always be-as far as she was convinced. There was no one there, no one to hear her yell 'no' over and over again. She couldn't help but think to herself how pathetic she must look, sitting in the wet sand at three in the morning, with technology like no other; all a feeble attempt to find her lost love whom she had lost to another universe so many years ago. She thought of him then, and how he always believed in her. How her powers seemed to be unlimited when he was around.

But he wasn't there now. And maybe that was why it wasn't working.

Now, she thought of him. She let herself think of him harder than she had in a long time. Maybe the connection was still there somehow. She tried again.

Still nothing.

She breathed out sounds of despair, letting herself be washed over with the truth; that it was over.

Where was she supposed to go now?

Then she felt weak. Like every bit of life was slowly being drained out of her. She was not sure if was natural or not, but hardly cared. She knew she wouldn't die. High doses of Cortexiphan sometimes had harsh side effects, but they never killed her. Walter even said so; her body was so used to the drug now that it would take massive, massive amounts for it to become even mildly life threatening.

Not that that was important now.

She thought of Walter, and how she was letting him down now too. Even if it weren't entirely her fault. He would blame himself, she figured. And she did not want to see that. She had let herself down too, and above all, Peter. She had let Peter down this last time, and he would never even know it. The ache in her chest grew, and even if it were just a side effect; she swore this was what it was like to feel your heart break. She tried one last time, knowing that if nothing else; the devices batteries would give out soon. Nothing happened, or so she thought.

And everything went black.

She was found early in the morning. A man who lived near the lake walked his dog there every day around sunrise. He was no one important or significant to her. No one who would have known her from the other side. Just a man who was shaken up at finding an unconscious woman during his early morning stroll. She thought she was dead, evidently. A body that had been discarded into the waters; or had drowned, no washing to shore. It wouldn't be the first time. But as he got closer he realized there was still color on her skin, and her breathing was shallow, but it was there. She couldn't have been in the water anyhow; her hair and clothes were completely dry. Other than what was affected by the wet sand. The man tore through the bag he found next to her looking for any sort of identification. But to no avail. He couldn't wake her up. Paramedics and police arrived some twenty minutes later.

As a result of her lack of identity, they ran facial recognition. Only to confirm that she was in fact Olivia Dunham.

"Nonsense." A nurse said when she pulled up Olivia's medical record, "Olivia Dunham has been dead for six and a half years."

Great.

Truth be told, doctors there had seen it all. Sometimes there would be anomalies like two people looking exactly like each other; but having no blood relation. Sometimes records were wrong. Or maybe she had faked her death. This was something completely different, though. DNA came back to confirm that she was who she was.

Sometimes you haven't seen it all.

It was their obligation to call her next of kin.

Marilyn didn't take it well to say the least.

Her first reaction was to call Peter. "I just got a call from the hospital…" She told him, "They said they found Olivia unconscious somewhere upstate…Olivia is dead, Peter."

"I know she is." His words were dark, but caring. The notion that it was his Olivia hadn't even entered his mind yet. He wasn't sure what to believe. People don't just come back from the dead-albeit he had done it before. But the situation was entirely different. He didn't want this to be happening. Because whatever it was, it wasn't good. All this was going to do was induce pain and open old wounds. For a moment he blamed the hospital, because his anger needed to be directed somewhere. "Do you want me to come over?"

"Yes." Marilyn whispered over the phone.

Peter's relationship with Marilyn was unfortunate. At least, it wasn't the kind of relationship someone would hope for with the grandmother of their child. When she first found out that Peter was Henry's father it came as shock. There was resentment in the beginning. He had only come back a few months after that Olivia had died. She was grieving, so she blamed Peter for leaving his son, and in a way for the death of her daughter. Even though neither were really his fault, he didn't know. Their relationship grew and became friendlier as Henry got older, but even Peter with his knack for reading people felt paranoid at times. Not that he exactly 'comfortable' around her at first either. In his mind the Marilyn Dunham he knew of had died a long time ago. It was so strange, and almost felt wrong. Just like everything else had at the time. She had full custody of Henry at the time Peter came back, and he didn't even think to interfere with that. She was grieving, and her grandson was all she had. Peter wouldn't even think about taking that away.

"What do you need me to do?" Peter asked her when he got to her house.

She was hesitant, "Can you go there for me? To the hospital. Find out something. I don't want to face this right now."

"Of course." Peter replied quietly, "I don't know how much they'll actually tell me, but I'll try my best."

"You have a way with people, I'm sure it will be okay." Marilyn told him genuinely.

Peter smiled shyly, "Let's keep Henry away from this, at least for now, it will probably just get confusing and I don't think that will be good for him."

She nodded, "It's for his own good, thank you, Peter."

"No need." He assured.

More or less, it took a lot of convincing for him to get them to talk. He could have easily gotten information if he has used his Fringe Division connections, but they were the last people who needed to know about this right now. The idea of this being his Olivia eventually came to him during the long ride there, and the idea didn't leave. It honestly was his most rational theory. More believable than someone coming back from the dead. Maybe she had finally done it, finally crossed over after so many years. In the back of his head he always thought that if she were able to, she would have done it by now. But maybe things changed, maybe she couldn't. He tried not to play 'what if' too much. But it was unavoidable. The thought was there, and he was trying to get his hopes up. He thought then that maybe it was a shape shifter somehow, even though they were almost positive they all died out a long time ago.

He hated to do it-whoever she was; he needed to see her-Peter pulled the 'mother of my child' card and eventually they gave in. Not to mention that they knew who Peter was, and the last thing they needed was the Secretary of Defense all over that hospital.

Peter walked down the hallway, he spent a few minutes standing outside of the room he was told she was in. His hand grabbed the doorknob, but he couldn't avert his gaze to look through the glass. Part of him just couldn't. For all he knew this could be the one moment that he had only dreamt of for so long, and all he was doing was delaying it. He was scared, for so many reasons. And above all; scared of the disappointment that he was most likely about to face.

But then he stepped inside her room, and started to believe that he was wrong. He started to hope.

There she was.

Her gold hair laid messily against the pillow, and the white sheets contrasted her still yet seemingly pale skin.

He knew.

Slowly, he walked over to her bedside, pulling one of the chairs next to her bed. Intuitively he grabbed one of her hands in his, and used his other to stroke her hair and then her cheek, cradling it lightly. He almost invasively felt all of the features of her face, just to make sure she was real. He didn't care. She was unconscious anyway. The doctor had explained to him that there was no brain trauma or anything in her system that would result in her being in this state, he ignored them, thinking they had just missed something. But now that he saw her he understood, he had seen her like this before. And she would come out of it.

"Olivia…" He whispered, holding her hand so tight that she probably would have flinched if she were awake. She didn't react. "I'm here." He knew she could hear him, when she had fallen into these presumed 'Cortexiphan comas' before, she told him how she could hear him, even though she couldn't understand what he was saying. She could somehow feel that he was there. Peter continued to talk to her, mostly telling her how much he missed her, but saving some of it. For later on when she would be able to respond.

He sat there for a little over two hours, but it felt like days. Inevitably he grew impatient. But finally, she slowly stirred from her current state.

Olivia opened her eyes, and through her hazy vision she could tell she was in a hospital. Her heart instantly dropped to her stomach, thinking something had went wrong trying to cross over. But when more of her senses came to function again, she could tell there was someone else in the room. She felt there was another hand holding her own. She turned her head and she could only see his shape through her blurry vision. Could it be? She thought. She blinked heavily a few times, realizing it was true. Somehow.

She didn't say anything, she couldn't. She was in shock and simply stared at him for a few seconds, taking him in. Peter stroked her cheek, and she sighed now knowing that this was real. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, while pain was still evident behind his eyes.

"Peter." She rasped, hardly louder than a whisper.

"Hi." He breathed at the same volume, full of relief and something else. He leaned over her, placing his forehead on her own.

Her arms weakly grabbed his face, "Peter…" She whispered again, as if she was telling herself he was here. "What happened?" She had no recollection of how she got here.

Peter could tell she was still not entirely aware, though, "I don't know." He told her with a yet relieved laugh, "…You did it." And she didn't have to ask what she did. She knew. But her state got the best of her again, she relaxed into the bed again, letting go of his face. She slipped away again for a few seconds, but Peter didn't care. He understood. She was here, with him. And that was more than enough. He was still partially leaning over her when she opened her eyes again, she smiled. After a few minutes things started to make sense again, she became aware of everything around her. And Peter could see it, he could see the color come back to her face and her eyes began to sparkle again. Just like he remembered her. He sat on the bed next to her, and she pulled herself up so she could be at her level. He put a hand on her shoulder, but it wasn't enough. He could read it on her face, and he pulled her to him as tightly as he could.

It was a moment where everything came together again. The reunion they both had only dreamt of for years. He kept one hand on her head while the other was wrapped tightly around her middle, he rocked her as he rubbed small circles onto her back. Olivia wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, pressing her face into the crook of his shoulder. He could feel her crying beneath his grasp, and he only pulled her tighter, if that were even possible.

"I'm here." He tried to hush her, "I'm here."

That only made her cling to him harder, words being confirmation of what she had wanted for so long. He was there. It was funny how she had forgotten the sound of his voice, and the feel of his touch, yet at the instant she had those things again she wondered how she could ever forget.

She never gave up hope, she never let go of this. Despite how many people told her she should. It didn't matter now, they didn't matter now. It was worth it.

They were together, now.

More realization hit her, she pulled away just enough so she could see his face, "What are you doing here?" She asked then, "How did you know I was here?"

Their faces were only inches apart, Peter could see her eyes were now a stunning shade of green from the tears she had shed, he missed that-looking into here eyes when he spoke to her. "I uh…you had no ID on you, Olivia. But they were able to prove you were Olivia Dunham, but this Olivia has been dead for a long time. They called Marilyn…and she called me." He swallowed, realizing that there was going to be a lot of explaining to be done, from both of them. No doctor was going to have the sense to just release a dead woman. And they were lucky the police weren't involved with this yet.

"Oh," was all she said, "You know, my plan was to find you and stay in hiding, and now…"

She had just impossibly hopped universes, the last thing Peter wanted her to do was worry. She had made it this far, "I'll figure something out," he comforted, "You're here…the last thing I can do is make sure you're safe.

She smiled then, "Thank you."

Somehow Peter used his ways to take her home with him. When he explained it to her she almost laughed at the conman that was still inside of him.

They knew this was only the beginning, that people were eventually going to find them and questions were going to be asked. But they couldn't worry about that now.

Outside of the hospital, Olivia took in her surroundings, it was all the same-yet it wasn't. But there was Peter. And that was all she needed. Her minded drifted for a moment, snapping back to reality when she felt his hand take hers. She smiled, like she always had when he did that. It was those simple small gestures that she had missed.

"You okay?" Peter asked.

She nodded, "Yeah," she breathed, smiling, "I'm okay."

Before they went any further Peter turned towards her. He used the thumb of his free hand to draw a line on her chin. There was no question asked, he leaned in and kissed her deeply and lovingly. Another thing he thought he'd never be able to do again. Olivia opened her eyes when they pulled apart, for a second the glimmer was there-well, everywhere-and she didn't even know why. But like that it was gone, and Peter could almost tell. "I missed you." He told her then, quietly.

Olivia nodded, unable to speak, but if it weren't obvious enough he could read it on her face. She missed him too.

Chapter 4 is already written. You want it? Let me know. ;D