Breaking Point
Written by:Addie Price
Summary: 'It was a war, Peter. And every war has its casualties. I'm just sorry it had to be Olivia who was made to suffer.' Everybody has a breaking point. And Olivia may have just met hers.
Words:
Note:Thanks to zeusfluff, noz4a2, castleisbomb and Monica for their reviews! You guys really encourage me to write faster!
Rated T for brief language and my own paranoia.
IMPORTANT: To those who read Chapter 3 before 4/11: When I originally wrote the chapter, I included Agent Jessup in it. I decided that she wasn't necessary and rewrote the chapter without her. But I had uploaded it before those changes were made and accidentally published the original chapter. You don't need to go back and read Chapter 3, just know that Agent Jessup will no longer be included.
Disclaimer: FRINGE is the property of FOX Broadcasting Company and its associates. I am in no way affiliated with FOX nor do I own any of the characters depicted in this story.
"According to the old legend, if you run into yourself, your double, it means you're supposed to die."
- Mike Flickner
He is dead. She knows he is dead. He died in her arms, years ago. Which is why it is so hard for her to understand how he is standing here before her now, eyes warm and welcoming.
He is dead.
She's wary of him; she has every right to be. Before he died, she discovered the truth about him. He was a traitor to his country, a traitor to her. And she had loved him. She had loved him with everything she had and he broke her. But she recovered. And now she's broken again.
He raises a hand to her and opens his mouth to speak but she can't hear a word he says. The wind rushes around her as she stands in the middle of the bridge, her eyes going in and out of focus like an unstable camera lens.
Fog settles around her, around him. She can still see him, but his outline is vague; she feels like she needs her glasses to see clearly. A figure walks out of the fog, tantalizingly slow as she anticipates the person's arrival, wondering , praying that it will be Peter.
It isn't.
It's her. She steps out of the haze and onto the bridge, her eyes light, her hair dark. "Olivia," she says, a sadistic smile playing across her lips. Her features mirror Olivia's, but she knows that this woman isn't her. But at the same time, she knows this woman is her.
Her other self steps towards her, raising a hand as she begins to circle her. "Pretty, little Olive." The woman takes a strand of her hair, rubbing it between her fingers. "Pretty, little Olive with the pretty blonde hair and the pretty green eyes. How would you feel, pretty, little Olive, if you weren't so pretty anymore?"
Suddenly, the woman lashes out, scratching at Olivia's face, leaving long red lines down her cheek. She raises a hand to the wound and she can see John yelling for her and trying to reach her but he's being held back by some invisible force and the wind carries his voice away long before it can reach her.
"How does it feel, Olive? How does it feel to be damaged?" The woman strikes out again, this time punching her in the jaw. Olivia stumbles backwards, clutching her jaw. She can feel a bruise beginning to form. The woman drives her knee up into Olivia's ribs once, twice, three times, causing her to double over further on herself in pain. "To be imperfect?" She slams Olivia down to the wooden pier, where she lays, gasping for breath. "He'll never love you now," the Other Her sneers from above her, placing a foot on her back as if to hold her down. "He never loved you at all."
She's too weak. She tries and struggles against her doppelganger's strength to rise to her knees, to overpower her. But she fails. Over and over and over again, she fails. The Other Olivia flips her easily onto her side with her foot then bends next to her. She pushes a few strands of hair off Olivia's face, then lowers her mouth to her ear. "Not so pretty anymore, are you, Olive?" Olivia can hear the sneer in her alternate's voice. "There's no way he'll love you now. He never loved you anyways, little Olive."
The ground beneath her is no longer wooden dock but asphalt. She pushes herself up to see her Alternate grappling with John Scott a few yards away. A hand closes itself around her forearm and she lashes out at it. She realizes just in time that it's William Bell and that he isn't there to hurt her and she stops her attack before she hurts him. He gently helps her to her feet, letting her lean against him for support as she wraps an arm around herself. "We have to beat her, Olive. We have to drive her out."
"I can't," Olivia whispers, fear and pain lacing themselves in her voice. "She's strong, Willem. She's just too strong."
"If you can't defeat her, then she'll take over your mind. She'll destroy you, Olive. You'll be nothing more than a forgotten memory in the corner of your mind."
Yards away where John and her Alternate are fighting, John gives a yell as Olivia drives a kick to his ribs. Blood trickles from his mouth and he's gasping for breath. But in the midst of it, his eyes meet hers, drawing her into him with a protectiveness she hasn't seen in a long time.
William's voice pulls her from him. "We can't help you, Olive. We can only stall. We'll do as much as we can, but ultimately you have to be the one. Walter and I, we trained you Olive. We created you into a soldier to protect the universe. But you can't do that with her in your mind."
Olivia whimpers. "I know. I know. But she's strong. I can't defeat her on my own."
William nods. "I know. I've asked Peter to get Walter down to the hospital. He'll figure something out to help you."
Then Fauxlivia is there. She grabs William and throws him to the side as if he's no more than a rag doll. She shoves Olivia to the ground, where she scrapes her palms on the asphalt. Her alternate stands over her, a wide grin spreading over her lips. "You can't stop me, pretty little Olive. These two that you've brought to help you - they're useless. Merely pawns, insects. They can't do anything for you."
The light shifts and Fauxlivia is still standing before her, but a piece of tempered glass, wire meshed within, separates them. A white light fills the room and there are walls to the left and right and behind her. A curtain lowers itself over the glass, blocking her view of her doppelganger, grinning as she disappears.
The cell. She's back in her cell, the one on the Other Side, where Walternate injected her with the memories of the Other Her and made plans to cut into her head to see why it was she could cross without harm.
She feels a panic begin to rise in her chest, constricting her lungs and throat and making it difficult to breathe. She gasps for air, feeling herself floundering for traction in her own mind. She knows, deep down, that she's retreated even further into herself. The walls around her mind are back up and stronger than ever and then anyone who wants to get in will have to work harder than ever before to knock them back down.
