A/N: I had some free time during my exams. This chapter is a bit short, sorry, but you all wanted an update soon, so here you go

**anything in italics is thoughts.

PREVIOUSLY

"You haven't told her. You're poking around in her mind and she doesn't know." her head turned sideways as she dug deeper into his mind, "But she's fragile, you don't want to hurt her. You're only wanting to know what she doesn't feel ready to tell you face to face, things kept secret. Things like her step father, her childhood." she took his thoughts from straight from his head.

She knew everything. This was going to be a problem.

4. Poking Around, Two Can Play At That Game

Peter's Story

That girl, Aimee. How much did she know? How far had she dug in his mind? Peter lay on his bed, hands running through his hair. Do I tell her? Would she be upset, angry, or would she be okay with it? He didn't know what to do. There were still too many questions about Olivia he wanted answers too. He was in love with a woman who he knew hardly anything about. Her past, her family. The best he knew was she shot her abusive father, a bit about Rachel, Greg and Ella.

It was only fair, since she seemed to know just about 'everything' to do with him and Walter.

He knew that if he got alone with Olivia and Aimee, the case, Aimee's father, her family, it would stir up Olivia's own memories. That's what happened to him. Whenever Walter brought up something, something Peter remembered, it was all he would think about for ages.

POPOPOPOP

The next day, Aimee was sitting patiently as Broyles and Olivia talked over what they were to do with her. Her mother couldn't take her; she had been admitted to a psychiatric facility late the previous night, having a mental break down, attacking several nurses, Aimee having stayed at the Bureau. Aimee's aunty, Marlene had taken her two sisters, Kate and Patricia, but refused to take Aimee.

Marlene had told Broyles that Aimee wasn't welcome. She snooped around, always in their heads. Marlene didn't see her as a 'special' child. She saw her as a 'freak' accident. A creation from her sister (Aimee's mother) and Aimee's father, a one night stand and a bottle of tequila. Aimee had a different father to her sisters, making her feel more like an outcast then a sibling. Most of her extended family didn't like her; her mother was always a 'good girl' and saw Aimee as the 'mistake that ruined her life'. Her mother always said she loved her, that of everything that could have happened after her and her father's one night stand, she was glad it was her.

Peter could see how upset this was making Olivia. An outcast child herself, at least that's what he had perceived, from watching her during abandoned child cases, fringe and FBI.

Peter offered to take Aimee out to get lunch seeing as she had been holed up in the lab most of the day, reading what books Walter had to offer. Much to Olivia's dismay, Astrid had coaxed her to go with them that she had been working hard enough.

POPOPOPOP

"Fish and Chips?" Peter asked, surprised, "You want fish and chips?"

Aimee nodded. She was a small teenager, standing a bit under Olivia's shoulders.

They walked towards the local diner. When asked what dish Aimee had never had, 'Fish and Chips' was her answer. Fortunately, one diner nearby did Fish and Chips regularly.

Peter listened to Olivia, trying not to let her know he was. She seemed to be blocking . . . well everything. De-attaching herself from the case, form the world. Sometimes he wished she would just open her eyes, just so she would see that he was there for her. He could hold her when she cried, be there for her. But she never did. Bottled up, hidden away.

Olivia's Story

"Agent Dunham?" Aimee's voice pulled Olivia away from her day dream. She was thinking about the case, her own father, Rachel always being the favourite. She hated when cases hit too close to home.

It had been what felt like days, since she had heard Peter's dream, since she had decided to close off his mind, so she couldn't hear him no more. But Aimee's current situation, her own ability threatened to expose her secret. But she continued the facade that she couldn't hear a thing.

"Yeah?"

"You were dazing off, again." Peter said.

"Oh, sorry. I guess I'm just tired." Olivia smiled sweetly; forcing her eyes open wide, trying to wake up.

Their meals arrived soon after they had sat down. Meat pies and chips for Olivia and Peter and Fish and Chips for Aimee.

They ate in silence, Olivia laughing every now and then at Aimee scoffing her meal. Either she was quite hungry (with terrible hospital food, who can blame her) or she really enjoyed Fish and Chips.

"Do you want to talk, about it." Peter asked suddenly,

"I knew a decent lunch would come with a price. What do you wanna know? Why I killed my father? What made me tick? What could possibly make a 14 year old murder someone?" she said this simply, not rudely or insultingly. She was calm, having expected that question.

Peter and Olivia looked at her across the table.

"You've had that question on your mind for the past 20 minutes, trying to figure out the best way to ask it." She ate another bite of her crumbed fish.

"Oh." Was all Peter said.

"He would come home drunk, yell at my mum, say that she was cheating on him." She spoke calmly. "My mum had separated from him, got pregnant with me and took him back when she realise she couldn't support having me by herself. He never forgave her for it, said she was a 'cheating bitch who deserved everything she got'. I was nothing but filth to him. Someone to do his dirty work, clean, cook, the things my mum never knew how to do. He treated my sisters with great respect. They were the favourites, but when he was drunk, none of us were safe."

She continued eating; pausing to calm her nerves every few sentences.

"One day, he hit my mother so hard she became unconscious. My sisters were screaming at him to stop, to leave them alone. He was drunk, so I thought I'd mess with his head. Make him hear things, talk to him, make him confused. He knew it was me. Said my voice was always an annoying squeal constantly in my head. He started beating me, the usual, with his belt; the buckle would leave marks on my skin, to remind me of my wrong doings." She lifted her black shirt, showing several belt-buckle marks on her arm, some disappearing around her chest. Olivia pushed back the flood of emotions, the hurt that poor girl went through,

"When he started to scratch me, the closer he got, the more scared I became and then," she shrugged innocently, like it didn't matter, "he fell over, dead. Blood pooled out his ears, eyes, his mouth. He exploded from the inside. At least that's how my sisters put it."

Olivia understood where she was coming from. Defending herself and her family. Just like Olivia had. She still remembers that day as if it were yesterday. The sound of her step-father's car returning, pulling up into the driveway. The door slamming shut as he approached again, opening the front door. Anger evident in his blood-cold eyes. He was determined to make her pay.

When she shot him, all she felt was relief. They were safe now. Everyone was safe. Rachel no longer cried at night, Olivia having to sing her to sleep. Rachel usually hid in her closet, behind her book rack. Their step-father was too big to fit behind it, to reach her. It was her getaway.

They finished their meal in silence, walking back to the lab. Olivia told Aimee how brave she was, standing up to her father. She knew that she could never tell her this, as an agent of the law, so she thought it instead, knowing Aimee would hear it.

You should be proud. Despite what you did was wrong, killing a man, you defended not only yourself, but your mother and your sisters. You had the courage to do something no one else every could.

Aimee looked at her as she thought this, Just like you did.

Olivia heard this happily. They were more alike then she had originally thought.

Peter's Story

Peter could hear them. Olivia, telling her that she did what no one else had done, and Aimee's reply. But he wondered, could Olivia hear it? Or did Aimee 'project' (is that the right word, he wondered) the thought into Olivia's mind? He didn't dwell on that thought for too long. He was consumed by Olivia's memories. Her step-father. The flood of emotion that rippled under the surface, tears being held back. He had never felt so much sadness before. Olivia was glad she shot her step-father, but regretted not killing him.

Peter looked at her as they walked, Why did you never tell me about your step-father? I've always been there for you, you know you can trust me. He thought, knowing she couldn't hear it.

But Olivia turned, looking face on at him.

Oh no. Was all he thought.

A/N: okay so I know I've kinda repeated heaps form the show about her step-father but I'm not really sure where I want that to go, what past to build it on, but I will eventually

Hope it was okay, this was a quick, 'I had 30 minutes free-time' thing.

Until next time, Au revoir