Chapter 4:

They finished shopping, dinner and had just pulled up at the hotel. Parking the car, they headed out and grabbed their bags taking it into the front lobby. Olivia booked two adjoining rooms, grabbing the keys and leading Peter towards the elevator.

"You really don't trust me?" He half-joked as they ascended to the sixteenth floor.

"What do you mean?" Olivia asked unsure what he was referring to. She held her overnight bag in one hand and the room keys in the other.

"Adjoining rooms," he emphasized.

"You're my responsibility, Peter. If you leave – I could lose my job." She wasn't sure how Broyles would handle the situation, it wouldn't be good either way. "Besides I need some sleep tonight and without an Agent standing guard all night – I figured leaving the door between our rooms open would be sufficient. Was I wrong?"

"No." Peter shook his head. The elevator doors opened and they walked out onto the floor. Olivia led the way towards one of the rooms, grabbing the key and unlocking the door. She followed Peter inside, turning the lights on and unlocking the door between the rooms, opening it up.

"Stay here." Olivia told him, taking his key with her as she headed out the main door into the hallway and to her room. Olivia unlocked the door, stepping inside and repeating the same routine, turning the lights on and unlocking and opening the adjoining door.

"I do get some privacy, right?" He smiled poking his head in to her room as she put her bag down on the floor.

"Well that depends," she smirked, "you can use the bathroom but the door stays open between our rooms when you sleep. You should know I'm a light sleeper and if you so much as creak that door open to the hall, I'll know."

Peter nodded slowly, "what if I need ice?"

Olivia shook her head, "that'll be difficult considering I'm holding onto your room key." She showed him the key. "Are you always this difficult?" She wondered how her other self dealt with him.

Peter merely shrugged, plopping himself onto the bed, sitting at the edge but he could still see her. "I'm not difficult. You're just being unreasonable." He countered.

"I'm being unreasonable?" She walked into his room, "how is it that I'm the unreasonable one, Peter?" She was standing less than a foot away.

"I came to you, I came to your team for help. I could have kept all the knowledge of Fringe Division to myself if I had really wanted to when I came here. You would have never known. I could have sold off your secrets to the other side if I wanted to – my allegiance is to you, Olivia, to your world. I know it sounds insane since I'm not Walter's son and you don't remember me either but the more I think about it, the more I realize I'm not going anywhere."

Olivia came to sit down beside him on the mattress. "You're giving up trying?" That surprised her. She almost was glad that he wasn't going to leave. Already he'd left an impression on her, a mark that wouldn't go away even if he did.

Peter let out a heavy sigh, "I'm not sure going back would fix anything. I changed the past by building the bridge between universes and for some reason it sent me here where no one knows me. There has to be a valid reason for that. All I can think is that the change is necessary or else the events of the future would still occur. You - she would die. If I did go back and find her, I'd have to stop Walternate from killing her." He admitted. "It's more than just that though. The world we came to live in, in the future was dark. It wasn't the place it is today. Walter was eventually arrested and convicted for what he did – taking me and destroying our world. Although I married Olivia, it was never the world we wanted. She told me she wanted children but she never felt right having them, bringing them into an unsafe and dying world." He felt her eyes on him, "it's a lot to hear I'm sure," Peter confessed, "but I love her and maybe letting her go is the best thing I could do. Maybe she's you but just different."

Olivia's eyes widened as she stood up from the bed, feeling rather uncomfortable at his admission. "Listen, I know you want me to be her. You want to be home and this to all go away. I understand that, believe me, Peter, I do. I'm not her though. I can't change that, I can't remember things that never happened in my lifetime. We're two very different people – even if we look the same." She reached out and gently stroked his cheek with her thumb. "She was very lucky to have you as her husband."

"You're not as different as you think, Olivia." He whispered staring up at her. He wanted to kiss her, to taste her lips once more. He wanted to see if it was her—the way she kissed, the way she loved him. Maybe he was stupid in thinking it would right some crazy wrong.

She leaned in, gently kissing the top of his forehead. "I'm not her. I'm sorry, Peter. Maybe I wish I was," she whispered, "but you deserve to find the woman you fell in love with, not settle for something less." She smiled weakly backing out of his room and headed into her adjoining bedroom. Quickly she made a beeline for the bathroom. Her heart was pounding, her insides ached. She had wanted to kiss him but knew it would be a mistake. She couldn't – he wasn't hers. She didn't know him and as right as it felt she knew that it was wrong.

Peter hung his head as he watched her disappear into her room and heard the loud clank of the bathroom door. What was he supposed to do? The woman who seemed a lot like the Olivia Dunham he knew was rejecting him. The Olivia he came to admire and fall in love with was no longer around. He'd built a life with her and eventually watched her die. Her funeral, for him it had been hell. Never in his life had he felt so alone. Never had he himself wanted to join her in death. He knew it was the cowards way out but she was everything to him. He had nothing to hold on to without her. Here though, she was alive, well, she just didn't know him. It was a sick twisted fate to find yourself face-to-face with a woman you shared your life with only for her to not know who you were. It was worse than amnesia because at least there was the chance she'd remembered. There was no chance, no hope that she would come out of this with the memories his Olivia had with him. They were two different people, she had been right. Yet staring into her eyes, the moment he had wanted to kiss her, he felt Olivia, his Olivia and desperately knew she was inside that woman, whether she knew it or not.

He stood up, pacing the length of the bedroom. No longer was he tired. He glanced at his bags of clothes from the store, pulling out pajamas and headed into the bathroom for a shower. Maybe unwinding would be good. Maybe he could try and relax, settle himself so that he could get a few hours of sleep. It had been three years of torture building up inside of him until he'd finally won over Olivia's heart. He was beginning to think it would take another three years to break down the walls around her heart as well. Was he crazy? If he did find his way home and he was wrong – his Olivia would certainly kill him for sleeping with another Olivia Dunham. Just thinking about the logistics of it was hurting his head.

He stepped into the shower, feeling the hot water against his muscles. It was soothing and helping him relax. His eyes drooped, feeling his body growing ready for sleep.

Drying himself off, he quickly pulled on his pajamas and stepped out of the shower. He walked towards his bed, casting a quick glance into her room and seeing she was still locked in the bathroom.

With a heavy sigh he walked into her room, giving a slight knock on the bathroom door. "Olivia?" He didn't know what he was expecting to find but she'd been in there awhile. The last thing he wanted was her hiding from him. She made a groaning sounding and Peter couldn't help but feel his heart rate soaring. "Olivia, I'm coming in." He announced hoping she was decent. He didn't want her shooting him later because he'd seen her naked.

Pushing open the door he found her lying on the floor. "What happened?" He asked bending down, checking over her head.

She chewed her bottom lip, "I slipped," it was a lie.

"Olivia?" He asked her again. "What happened?" It was clear she'd hit her head. The injury didn't look severe but he was still concerned. He knelt down on the floor.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she whispered sitting up and grimacing. Although she'd been lying on her back, the front of her face had a small cut.

"Did you hit something?" His fingers reached closer to touch her forehead but she shied away.

"Don't." She held up a hand, not wanting him to touch the cut. "It was stupid."

Peter helped her to her feet and carefully maneuvered her to her bed, lying her down. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

She closed her eyes, lying on her back but she could feel his presence beside her. "Fine." She mumbled, "I went somewhere."

Peter's eyes widened as he nodded weakly, "you went over there?"

"I don't know. It's never happened before. At least, I don't think it has. One other time a few days ago I asked another agent for the Hourlies. She brought them, handed them to me. Then it happened all over again. I thought it was déjà vu. Or some weird time paradox. I didn't think anything of it. Except this time I was in front of a man – I don't know who he was but he cold cocked me with his gun." She gestured towards the injury.

"How do you know you were over there?" Peter asked curiously.

Olivia glanced at Peter, "I interrupted some type of deal going on. I don't know who they were – could have been the MOB, could have been Walternate's people. The room layout was different but it was still the hotel. I was in the middle of the room when I crossed over, they saw me. There wasn't much time that I was there – ten seconds most but it was enough to leave a nasty mark on my forehead."

"Maybe we should get another room." Peter suggested.

Olivia sat up in bed, "and say what? This room is haunted by another universe?"

"Then do me a favor and crash with me tonight," Peter offered. "I'd feel better knowing thugs aren't sleeping in your room on the other side. Just in case you do cross back."

"I don't think they're there anymore. Besides how do you know they weren't staying in the room next door?" Olivia yawned.

Peter stared into her eyes, "are you sure you don't have a concussion?"

"I'm fine," she groaned, "I'm just exhausted."

He wasn't going to argue. He knew crossing over could be taxing. "You'll stay with me tonight. Okay?"

"I need to get changed for bed first," Olivia slipped off her shoes and grabbed her bag, finding a tank top and pajama bottoms.

Peter watched her closely, making sure she was okay. "Use my bathroom," he offered.

"Okay." She didn't fight. She took her clothes and followed Peter back into his room. She headed for the bathroom, closing the door and quickly got changed. She didn't know what happened or rather how it happened. Was Peter to blame for crossing over? She didn't know how that could be. Once she was dressed she shut off the bathroom light and headed towards his bed. "This isn't going to be awkward for you, is it?" Olivia asked him, coming towards the King sized bed.

"Nope, I'll be fine." Peter scooted over as far as he could, leaving plenty of room for Olivia. He wanted her to feel comfortable. "Can I ask you something?"

"When don't you?" She smiled weakly climbing beneath the covers.

"When it happened – crossing over – you were scared, weren't you?"

Olivia hated talking about her feeling. She glanced down at the mattress, fixing the sheets, "do we have to talk about this?"

"The Olivia I know," Peter began explaining, "when she could see the other side and use her Cortexiphan abilities it was the combination of fear and love that triggered it."

Olivia glanced at him, "I don't know what you're trying to say, Peter." She certainly wasn't going to tell him she was in love with him. She'd only known him for a few days!

"Me either." He shuffled further down into the bed. He reached for the light, shutting it off. "Goodnight, Olivia."

"Night, Peter."