so basically chapter two =10 FREAKIN REVIEWS! and chapter 3 =5 REVIEWS! (cut in half?) i know it's strange and I'm slightly worried that I may have done something wrong, but I have no fear that you loyal story lovers will read this! anyway i want to say THANK YOU SO FREAKIN MUCH. and now, onto the next chapter!
I own the typos.
Walter and Walternate were at it again.
Nose to nose and toes to toes Walternates hard features were like stone compared to the face of venerable Walter with half his mind. He was only there because after he had watched Olivia dress and eat breakfast-actually drink it, in the form of coffee-she had been called to The Bridge because they were at it again, arguing more defined than before, a bunch of jibberish she didn't understand without him there and he knew it.
Her faces scrunched expression was priceless.
Walter rambled on about quantum this and physical that, while Walternate countered his argument with string theories and D evolution and more nonsense that at some moments, if Walternate wouldn't take a breath, he wouldn't understand. So he stands there and wants to desperately translate for Olivia, but he can't. So instead he watches the unfolding argument with pity in his eyes, a soft twinkling.
And then the double walks in with all her swag and fiery charade. There's an unhealthy gleam to her sea green eyes and while he used to want to strangle her he feels oddly indifferent to her presence in the room. Walternate turns when he sees blonde Olivia stiffen and almost shake. When Peter had existed, it was the double that had broken Olivia apart in shards of gorgeous bomb. Since he never was, what broke them apart this time? Or was it a naturally uncomfortable feeling, mutual on both ends?
"Agent Dunham," Walternate speaks, addressing the glamour of a woman, "What can I do for you?"
"Sir," she says, "There is a fringe event that requires your attention."
"Of course," he says, "I will be out in a moment."
She nods and leaves, the hop in her step so noticeable that he wants to rip his eyes out. Walternate turns back to Walter, face cold, harsh.
"This isn't over," he hisses before leaving. Walter stands defeated with his shoulders hunched. In a flash he straightened, pointing out his finger and shouting at him.
"You're right," he says angrily before he too, spins around to face blonde Olivia.
"It's all right Walter," Olivia tries and Walter shrugs.
"I am just like him," he says, "Or I was."
Olivia gives him that tight, sideways grin that she gives when she doesn't really know how to comfort or console something she doesn't understand. The smile doesn't touch her eyes and Peter moves for the first time from his corner, on the line of The Bridge, the space between the two universes, a space only he can stand on. He crosses to her side, away from his and circles the desk like a prowling cat, stalking, watching, waiting. He can't see inside her mind, but something's weighing on it, heavy.
"Walter," she says in her tone that means business. He picks up his head and turns to her, listening fully. "Walter I've been seeing things."
"Are you tripping, Agent Dunham?"
"And hearing things."
Walter doesn't dismiss her this time and he faces her fully. "Who did you see?"
"I don't know him," she says, "But he knows me, by name."
"You don't know him?"
"I don't think I do," she says again, "But he feels familiar, Walter."
"Perhaps it's deja-vu," Walter rambles and Peters mind picks up. Maybe Walter knows what's going on.
"No," Olivia dismisses, "It's not deja-vu. It's not like I've been there before, it's like he's missing."
"Like John?"
"Different," she answers, "I think his name is Peter."
Peter wants to shout at her that she is correct, that she remembers him and that he is there and so excited for her to come home to him. But he knows that no matter how loud he screams she won't hear him.
"I told Elizabeth that if we had a son, I would have named him Peter," Walter say idly, "But no matter. Agent Dunham, can you hear him now?"
"No."
"Can you see him?"
"No. But I feel him here."
"Do you want him here?"
"I want to know why," she says impatiently, "Why do I feel like there's someone lurking around me."
"We can run some tests," Walter suggests, "We can put your consciousness into a sleep state and perhaps you can connect with your entity."
"What if," she whispers, 'What if I don't want to?"
"No," Peter says, unable to stop himself, "No, no, no, no. Don't say that Olivia," he says, coming closer, standing between her and Walter, "Don't talk that like. It's me, you know it. You remember me, you're the only one. I'm n-"
"Well Agent Dunham," Walter says, talking over Peter's own monologue, "If that were the case, why did you bring it up?"
"-you want to remember me. I remember you, please." He takes her face in his hands, cupping her cheeks with a firm grasp but when she turns her head it slips through his ghastly fingers, whispering away like smoke as she turns around, beginning her pacing.
"What would it take, for me to connect?"
"Well, you could go in the tan-"
"No," both Olivia and Peter say at the same time.
"You could take a mild sedative, then a hallucengenic. We can access your mind that way and make open to your visitor."
"He's not a visitor Walter," Olivia says firmly, "He's a presence and he's always here."
"Do you want him gone?"
"I don't know!" She says angrily, "I can't tell if he's good or bad. You know me Walter, what if he's here to inhabit my mind next? I need to know-"
"I would never hurt you," Peter whispers, listening to her heartbreak. It's almost as if she's not the same woman, as if all the things that happened to her, the result of him, direct or not, happened differently. Who inhabited her mind? Who had retrieved her?
"Agent Dunham," Walter says, "I know it's hard to think about after your last trip, but if you'd like to meet your next inhabitant I suggest you should."
Olivia cocks her head to the side, as if the decision were weighing on her mind.
"And you can get rid of him?"
Peter felt himself pale.
"Always," answers Walter, "I can rid him now, if you'd like."
"Olivia, don't do this," Peter growls, "Don't go."
Peter figures it's time to leave, and October seems to sense that it's his time to go for his strange phone device rings. Peter darts from the area with his brief case in hand, other hand clamping down on his hat as he graces the balcony of The Bridge, the sea air whipping around him in a without a temperature or texture. October meets him there.
"She does not remember."
"She wants to rid me."
"You cannot let her do that."
"Why? She does not remember me," Peter growls
"She must."
Peter whirls, finally losing his temper and grabs the man by his lapels, and shoves him against the railing. He needs answers, he craves them and this man has some, not all, but some of them.
"Why?" he hisses, "You told me it's better this way, without me. Now you're telling me she must remember. What is going on here?"
"You want answers," says October, his eyes soulless and darkening at him, "And I can help you."
"How?"
"Come with me."
And Peter does, disappearing in the flash that was so uniquely theirs.
ooooooooo a mystical place all the observers home? where is it? What's happened to Olivia that she just wants to rid Peter's "presence? Did Walter have a duaghter if he did not have a son? tell me what you think!