Part 4: Priorities

Peter secured his bullet proof vest into place. "And you stay here," he said and pointed a firm finger in Olivia's direction.

She held up her hands in surrender. "Don't worry. I wasn't planning on going anywhere."

They were—along with about a dozen or so other SWAT and FBI agents—standing behind a row of big, black standard issue SUVs. The cars were corroding off an abandon warehouse. Their prey was trapped inside the building. For the past six months, Fringe division had been almost exclusively focused on the apprehension of about a dozen shapeshifters.

These were not the hybrid shapeshifters that William Bell and David Robert Jones had created, but a few left over from the original wave Walternate had sent over. Their mission directive should have disabled itself, but this handful had gone rogue. Abandoned by their creator, they had become shape-shifting terrorist without a clear objective.

They caused six of the last eight Fringe events. The numbers had slowly dwindled. Now only the three or four hold up in this warehouse were left. Now, they were cornered. Or hopefully cornered. The FBI was going in guns blazing to end them. The goal was termination.

Olivia was seven months pregnant and aware enough to know the gun battle was not where she belonged. She and Peter had been on their way home at the end of the day when the call came in. He was the expert; he should be there and they needed to act now. There wasn't time to drop Olivia off. She was going to hang back behind the barrier.

"The vest won't fit anymore," she said. She received jealous looks from other mothers in the birthing class, but she was clearly pregnant. Her rounded belly stuck out like a ball underneath her shirt.

"Very funny, Liv," said Peter.

"Alright, people, let's go!" barked Broyles.

The SWAT team went first. The FBI agents were gearing up.

"Be careful," she said to Peter as he pulled his gun from its holster.

"I will. Love you."

"I love you too."

She watched them rush across the open space between the line of SUVs and the building itself. It was getting dark.

She paced back and forth, fiddling with the clasp of her own holster. She could only wait. She knew she was pushing it by just being here. She was still working cases now that her morning sickness and migraines had stopped. She didn't really go out into the field without persuading Peter, Walter, Broyles, and Astrid usually. No surprises. That was the rule.

She just about had to force Peter to drive straight to the warehouse instead of thinking of somewhere to leave her. She had sworn up and down that she would wait where it was safe. And she planned to. But she couldn't deny that it was hard. She felt her purpose was to protect. Events in her life provided her with the skills. She wanted to be beside Peter making sure he stayed safe.

She paused and looked back at the building. Nothing had happened yet.

She wasn't alone. Six other FBI agents leaned against the SUVs with guns at the ready. She had promised Peter that she wouldn't even provide cover.

She wanted to be in there, but she had someone else to worry about now. Someone else to protect. As if her baby knew what her mother was thinking about, she kicked and did a somersault. Olivia rubbed her belly.

"You've got to be patient too," whispered Olivia. "He'll be back soon."

She started pacing again. It was cold, and it would be getting colder as it got darker. Still her peacoat was open in the front to ensure she had easy access to her weapon. She hoped for everyone involved that this raid would be over soon.

Gunshots rang out. Olivia snapped to attention. More shots and shouting. Her heart rate increased. All she could do was wait. She'd stopped pacing.

The sound of crashing glass reverberated above the gunshots. A figure burst from a small, peaked window at the very top of the warehouse. The shapeshifter fell the sixty feet and hit the ground with a crunch. It immediately started firing a shotgun at the line of SUVs. The agents began firing back.

Olivia did a strange thing. She had planned to provide cover, despite what she had told Peter. She didn't think she would be able to stand back. No matter what her intentions, she ducked. She didn't reach for her gun; she didn't take a position. She crouched down and pressed closer to the car.

The battle didn't last long. The shapeshifter—in the form of a woman—had no cover. She went down almost at once and stopped moving. The other agents moved forward to secure her.

Olivia straightened. She couldn't stay hunched over like that for very long. All the weapons had stopped firing. There were still shouting coming from in the warehouse, but the shots had stopped too. Still, she stayed where she was.

With a frown, she watched the agents dealing with the shapeshifter, her eyes flicking to the door to the warehouse every few seconds. She couldn't relax until she saw Peter walking through that door.

Two SWAT agents exited and took up positions around the dead or dying shapeshifter.

The baby was still kicking. "He'll be back soon," she repeated as much to herself as to her daughter. But where was he?

There was a radio in the car. She opened the driver side door and leaned across the seat for the receiver. The position was no longer easy. Her fingertips had just reached the console when something hard jammed against her back.

She knew what the object had to be. A few months ago, her reaction would have been entirely different. A few months ago, she probably would have fought back. A few months ago, she probably would have tried for her gun. A few months ago, she probably would have gone for the shot. Today, she froze.

"Get away from the radio and get your hands in the air," said the shapeshifter holding the gun.

She raised both hand up beside her head as she had done with Peter but with deadly seriousness.

"Turn around. Get on your knees," he said.

Again, she did exactly as she was told. It wasn't easy. She nearly fell forward as she lowered herself one knee at a time. The first slowly and the second hit the gravel hard to keep herself upright. She was terribly exposed.

The shapeshifter loomed above her. He looked like an older man. Give him a nice suit and a shave and he could've looked like an English gentleman or Santa Claus on the off-season. However, he'd been living in a warehouse for weeks. He was dirty. There was one bullet wound bleeding silver mercury in his shoulder and another in his hip. He wore a torn security guard uniform and carried a sawed off shotgun.

The shapeshifter looked her over and took in her pregnant belly and then the gun and badge attracted to her belt. He smiled nastily.

"The keys are in the ignition," said Olivia. "I won't stop you."

"And the big, bad FBI is going let us just drive away? I don't think so. You are coming with me. I need leverage."

He leaned closer to her, and she flinched. He laughed low. His hand hesitated around her middle, just longer enough for her to question what he was after. Then, he grabbed her gun from its holster and tossed it aside.

"I won't stop you," said Olivia again.

"Quiet," the shapeshifter said. "Let's go."

"I—I can't," she said.

His jaw clenched. "You do as I say and if I get out of here, maybe you will get out of here."

"I mean I can't stand up. I can't get up."

He growled. He lunged forward, grabbed her roughly by the elbow and pulled her up. He wasn't human, so it was easy. He yanked open the door and shoved her towards the backseat.

"Please," she said. "Let me go."

"I said quiet. Get in the car!"

"I'm not asking for me. Please." She braced herself with both hands around the doorframe. "Please. Peter! Someone! Help!"

She couldn't fight back. Any physical attack would put her baby as risk. She was scared. She wasn't scared for herself because she had been in these situations too many times to count; she was scared for her baby. She was trying to buy time. She needed Peter to come out of the warehouse. She needed one of the agents to look in exactly the right direction.

The shapeshifter wasn't in the mood. He flipped his gun so he was holding onto the barrel. He cracked her in the face. She was on the ground, and she tasted blood. A few months ago, this kind of warning would have been a fuel. The same fire didn't light now. She was just scared. Her mind raced. She couldn't see an out.

"My aim will be a little different next time," said the shapeshifter, towering above her.

He reached down. With a large hand, he grabbed her by throat and lifted her up. He pushed her against the car. Her back slammed against the back door. His grip wasn't tight; he wasn't trying to strangle her. He just held her pinned against the vehicle.

"Please," she gasped. "I'm worried about my baby. You can go."

He shook her slightly. "Well, you should have been in my way." He paused and then added, "In your condition."

"Please," said Olivia.

"Here's how it's going to go. You are going to drive. You are going to drive quickly and without stopping. When we are far enough away, I will use you as leverage to get some of my people back. It's your baby's only chance. Do you understand?"

She doubted that any of the other shapeshifters would survive. The orders had been shot anyone that wasn't an FBI agent. She didn't express this, however. It was her only chance. He wasn't planning to kill her; he needed her to drive. Perhaps, the injury to his right leg was worse than it looked.

"Yes, I understand," she said.

Every long minute meant Peter had a greater chance of finding her or of her seeing a way to escape. The shapeshifter was violent, and he was unprepared. She didn't know if that was better. It also made him desperate. He dug the gun into her belly with a firm pressure.

"I don't think you do understand. I won't kill you. I'll pull the trigger right here. Bam. You might die; you might not. It will."

"Please." She was begging. Every single part of her attention was directed on his face inches away from hers. His lip curled in something of a growl.

Someone shouted. The shapeshifter let her go. She fell to the ground again. Her knees hit the gravel. He raised his shotgun and fired. The agents on the other side of the car fired back.

Olivia hunched down, covering her head with one arm and her belly with the other as the bullets flew above her. There was a bang from behind her. The shapeshifter fell beside her. More mercury flowed from a hole in his forehead. He stared at her with empty eyes.

Someone else pulled her to her feet. It was Peter. She collapsed into his arms. She wasn't crying, but she couldn't seem to catch her breath.

"Hey, it's okay. You're safe," he said softly.

"Peter, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. It's over. You're safe."

She swallowed and looked up at him. Her breath still came in shaky little gasps, like a toddler.

"You're okay," he said again.

"I shouldn't have been here."

"Let's not worry about that now."

He led her away from the shapeshifter. She looked back at the body. He still stared unseeing at her. He directed her to the SUV at the end of line. He opened the door to the backseat and had her sit on the edge.

The chaos of the end of raid still swirled around them. The warehouse had been swept. Agents were removing the bodies and other evidence.

She took a few more steadying breathes as Peter bent down in front of her. He put a hand to her cheek. She winced.

"What did he do to you?" asked Peter.

"He hit me."

She folded her hands in her lap around her belly and stared down at them. She'd regained control, but now she felt guilty. It felt like a sign.

"Did he do anything else?" he asked.

"No, just scared me."

"Me too."

"The paramedics will be here in a minute. We're going to hospital."

"I'd rather Walter."

"Okay, Walter, but the paramedics first."

"No, I want to go to the lab. I want to get out of here."

Peter made a face that said 'c'mon.'

"I'm fine," she said, and even she didn't believe it.

"Babe, you're going to be all right."

"I need sugar," she said suddenly looking up.

"What?"

"I want orange juice or anything sweet. It always makes the baby kick. I need to feel her, Peter. I need to."

He covered her hands with one of his own. "It's okay, Liv."

"It's not."

"I'll see what I can find." He stood up and took a step away.

She gasped. His focused back to her. Olivia smiled and placed her hands on either side of her belly. "She moved."

"Good." He was far more relieved then the one simple word could convey.

The baby did a somersault just to make sure Olivia felt it. She nearly started crying. 'I'm sorry,' she thought.

"I still want to make sure she's okay," she said out loud. "I want to get out of here."

"Broyles is going to want a report, but I'll see what I can do. You'll be okay?"

She nodded. He wandered away. She rubbed her hand over her belly. The baby kicked back. It was the only thing that made her feel marginally better. She shouldn't have been there, and now she was desperate to get away as if the shapeshifters were going to suddenly jump up and start shooting again. She had been reckless to even think she could be anyway near a raid. Nowhere was safe. Would a good mother put her baby at risk? She took another shaky breath. The answer to that was obvious.

Peter returned with Broyles behind him. Peter was holding an ice pack. He handed it to her, and she brought it her cheek without commenting.

"Agent Dunham," Broyles said. "Everything alright?"

"Yes, sir. I want to go home," she said.

He looked her up and down. "Report by tomorrow," he said without asking for any more explanation. "Take care of her," he added to Peter. Say what you about Broyles' cold stare, he was a softy at heart.

"Not a problem," said Peter.

Broyles walked away.

"Can we leave?"

He didn't know why she was in such a rush. "Please, let the paramedics check you out."

"Walter can do it. I want to leave."

"Okay, I'll take you home and I'll have Astrid bring Walter to the house."

"Just take me to the lab."

"Okay, okay."

"Thank you."

She stood up, still holding the ice pack to her face. They made their way to back to their SUV and climbed in. Even as Peter pulled away and the warehouse receded, she still felt like something else was going to happen. She fought the need to check the back of the car for another hiding shapeshifter.

It was a long, quiet ride back to the campus. She was stuck inside her own head as she had been for the last seven months. The two sides of herself seemed at odds again. She wanted her baby safe, but the only way she knew how to do that was by being in the field. She had to face that and sooner than she had ever expected.

Peter parked the car. She got out and marched towards the building where the lab was. It was dark by now and the campus mostly deserted. It was dinnertime and most classes where over.

"What's up?" he asked when he caught up with her.

"I want to go home. I want to make sure my baby is okay."

"Is that really all?"

"What else would there be?" she said, more sharply than she intended.

He shrugged as he held opened the door to the main entrance. She frowned and kept walking.

She pushed her way into the lab and called out for Walter. He stuck his head out of his office, already in his bathrobe.

"Olivia, dear? I thought you left." He saw the ice pack in her hand and the bruise already forming on her cheek. "What happened?"

"We ended up at a raid. I got involved. I was wondering if you could take a look."

Walter looked confused.

"Broyles called," explained Peter as he entered the lab. "They found the shapeshifters hideout. We're the experts so he wanted us there. Olivia stayed back, but one of the shapeshifters cornered her. We think everything is okay, but would you check? Please."

"Of course," Walter said. He wrapped his robe tighter around him. "Olivia, have a seat on the table. Son, get the portable ultrasound."

They both followed his instructions. Walter bustled around gathering a few medical supplies.

"It's mostly my cheek," said Olivia. "I've felt the baby moving."

"A good sign," Walter said.

He pulled her hand with the ice pack away from her face and tilted her face so he could get a better look. He gently probed along the bone. She jerked away from his hand.

"Sorry, dear. It's not broken. Two butterfly stitches. Keep the ice on it. There will be a nasty bruise for a few days."

He applied the bandage.

"Thanks," said Olivia.

He nodded. Peter came over with the portable ultrasound. Walter took it from him and flipped open the screen. Olivia knew the drill by now. She lifted her shirt. Walter balanced the machine on his arm. He put the wand to her exposed and rounded belly. Peter rested his hand on her shoulder.

The ultrasound made a few gurgling noise before the heartbeat started thumping through the speakers. He flipped around the monitor, so Peter and Olivia could see. The baby's little silhouette was clear. She kicked and Olivia saw it on the screen and felt it inside her.

"The heartbeat is regular. She's active. I would say you don't have anything to worry about. Just pay attention. If anything changes, call the hospital."

He took the wand away from her skin. The sounds cut off. She wanted him to turn the machine back on. He smiled at her. She forced a smile back.

"Thank you, Walter," she said.

"You're sure?" asked Peter.

"Not one hundred percent. Never one hundred percent, but I am confident my granddaughter is fine, so is her mother."

"Let's go home then," Olivia said.

"Liv, what's the rush?" said Peter.

"I'm tired."

He backed off. "Okay."

"Can we borrow this?" Olivia asked, pointing to the ultrasound.

Walter agreed. They said good night for the second time and made their way back to the car again. It was another quiet ride back to the house.

Again, Olivia got out of the car as soon as Peter turned off the engine, still clutching the ultrasound machine.

"You hungry?" he asked, following her into the kitchen.

"Not really."

"I'll make pasta or something. Sound good?"

"Whatever."

She didn't wait for him to say anything else, but went directly upstairs to the bedroom. They were still living in the campus house. They'd finally found a new home, but it was in escrow and would need some work. If the sale officially, it would be almost two months before they would be ready to move.

She set the ultrasound down on the bed. She pulled off her suit jacket and tossed it onto a stack of boxes. With a fair amount of reaching, she got her shoes off. Then, she crept across the bed, curled against the pillows and the tears came. She hardly made a noise, but her whole body shook. She was afraid. She was a little kid scare of the dark, of what she didn't understand. Had her doubts been right? Had it all been confirmed even before the baby was even born? Could this possibly be meant to be if she had come so close to losing it already? Was a family something she was supposed to have?

"I'm sorry," she said out loud through her sobs. "I'm so sorry."

She didn't really know whom she was talking to. She spoke to the baby certainly, but to herself as well for letting her get her hopes up. And to Peter for letting him believe she could handle this.

Gradually, her crying slowed. She let the wet tears sit on her cheeks and listen to her own breathing. Finally, she reached for the device and turned it on. She rolled over on to her back, pulled up her shirt, and pressed the probe to her skin. She wasn't very skilled with it, which frustrated her even more. It should be easy. She felt like she was nothing but a stomach sometimes. She made a noise of exasperation and pushed the machine away. Tears burned in her eyes. Could she do anything right?

It wasn't much longer before Peter came looking for her.

He knocked on the open door. "Honey, are you all right?" he asked.

She glanced up over her shoulder and wiped the tears away, forgetting about the wound on her cheek. She winced again. Peter gave her a sad look, but it did reach his eyes, like he was trying not to laugh. He wasn't taking this seriously.

"If you say anything about hormones, I'm going to hit you," she said.

"You'd have to get out of bed fast enough to catch to me."

She grabbed the pillow next to her and chucked it at him. It hit the floor at his feet with a thud. She let out another frustrated grunt and flipped over so her back was to him again. Tears burned in her eyes.

"Babe, what's going on?" he said. He wasn't laughing anymore. He sat down on the bed.

"I'm just feeling inadequate," she said into her pillow. "And terrified."

He leaned over her. "Everything's fine now. I told you. I'm not going to lose you again. Either of you."

"This is about me."

"You did exactly the right thing."

"No, I gave up. I was going to let the shapeshifter go."

"You did what you had to do to protected her."

"What if you hadn't been there? Today could've turned out very different."

"But it didn't," he said firmly.

"But it could have. What if we had lost her?"

"Don't even think that. I know there is only so much I can say. I don't think you have anything to worry. It's hard on you now, but you just proved to me that you know what you're doing. Me, on the other hand, what do I know about being a dad? I had a good mom. She did her best, at least. But Walter? Oh man. Where do I start?"

She looked at him over her shoulder. Was Peter worried too? He'd spent so much time trying to make her okay, trying to convince her they could do this. She hadn't heard him say anything like this before. In a way, it was a relief. She wasn't the only one who was scared.

"What do you mean?" she said.

"Walter is Walter. He's the only father I know. I spent a lot years angry at for what he did to me. What if I handle things the way he did? He chose the worst option every single time."

She flipped over in his arms, so they were face to face. Her belly pressed against his torso.

"You won't repeat his mistakes. I know you're not going to experiment on our child. Be a better man than your father, right? You are going keep her safe and make her feel loved. The way to do for me."

He kissed her on the forehead. She curled closer.

"I'm sorry I have been such a mess," she said. "I don't mean to keep making this about me."

"You don't have to apologize. You have the hard job. You're the one with the big belly and everything. You're the one who has to worry about her every second of every day."

"Is any of that going to change after she's born?"

"Your belly won't be huge."

"Hey," she said, softly.

"I think you look amazing."

"Keep going."

"You're positively glowing."

"And?"

"And I've never seen a woman as gorgeous as the woman I'm holding right now."

"Better."

They were quiet for a while. She watched as Peter's eye begin to close. The next time she opened her own eyes the room was entirely dark. They had both fallen asleep.

She sighed heavily and looked around. She hated the feeling of waking up from a nap and not knowing exactly where she was. She had to look around for the digital clock. It had only been about twenty minutes.

She sat up and stretched. Although she could have very easily stayed curled up in Peter's arm forever, she was hungry. Gone were the days when she could skip a meal and not worry or having nothing but a bowl of cereal and whiskey.

She slid off the bed and felt her way to the bathroom. She flipped on the light. It spilled across the floor and the bed. Peter sighed in his sleep. Standing in front of the sink, Olivia tried not the gaze too closely at her reflection. Crumpled button-down shirt, hair falling out of its ponytail, puffy red eyes, and, of course, the vibrant black and blue mark across most of her cheek. It was quite a sight. Still, she tried to ignore it as she wet a wash cloth and pressed it against her face. She left the cloth in the sink and moved back into the bedroom.

She perched on the edge the bed. She gazed down at Peter. He looked like little kid when he was sleeping. She leaned down as best she could and kissed him on the cheek. She would let him sleep. She'd make enough pasta for him to reheat later if he wanted food.

As she stood back up, he stirred. After a couple of snuffling noises, he opened his eyes and yawned.

"Hey," he said.

"I was trying not to wake you."

"No, it's fine. I'll never to sleep later."

"Then, come have dinner with me."

He got up and stretched too. "Lead the way."

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