"Adversity has the effect of eliciting talents which in prosperous circumstances would have lain dormant."
-Roman poet Horace
"So, first, we got a match for Jones' DNA and fingerprints on the mug from Olivia's apartment," Charlie tells him in the bullpen at the Federal Building.
Peter nods. He was sure they would.
"But Broyles says we have to run this one on the books so Harris can't roadblock us, so we sent a forensic team out there, too."
"And they found something," Astrid continues.
She hands Peter a sheet of paper—a chemical analysis report. "What is it?" he asks, more to himself than anyone else.
"We ran it, and got a hit on a patent filed in 1981 by—guess who—Massive Dynamic. It's called—"
"Cortexiphan," Walter murmurs next to him.
He looks up at his father, half-way wanting to strike the man.
Walter takes a deep breath. "I was afraid of this. Jones is attempting to activate Olivia."
"That's what the lights were about," Peter says, not a question.
"Yes," Walter agrees.
"Wait, go back," Charlie says, confused. "What is Cortexiphan and what does it have to do with Liv?"
Olivia felt sick to her stomach looking at the picture.
So she hit it. Inside her pillowcase, as deep as it would go.
A man calls "Attention!" and everyone rushes into lines. Olivia finds herself between Nick and Nancy, the only two people who'd spoken to her directly since she'd run in.
She recognizes the man by his swollen and bruised nose, which she'd broken the day before.
Next thing she knows, every single one of them drops to the floor and starts doing push-ups. She's made it through thirty-seven of one hundred when her arms start to waver, but she doesn't fall and doesn't stop. Luckily, she's not the last to finish.
The man barks out orders until every last one of them is about to pass out. He's about to call out another when the door behind him opens and Jones enters.
Everyone—even their 'drill sergeant'—returns to attention and lowers the volume of their ragged breathing.
"Good work, everyone. Ten minute break—then we'll head to your group work."
What 'group work' is, Olivia doesn't know. She turns to follow Nick until she hears her name.
"Miss Dunham, a word."
Nick glances back but doesn't stop. Olivia turns in Jones' direction, but doesn't get within four feet.
He closes the distance for her. "How is your first day going so far, Olivia?"
"Just swell," she answers dryly, earning herself a few glances.
He seems to ignore her sarcasm. "Good. I'm confident you'll soon begin to see the point of all this," he says, glancing around them. "Then you'll understand why I've brought you here."
"Look," Olivia hisses through her teeth, stepping closer in defiance, "you may have everyone here either loyal to you or terrified into submission, but not me. I know what you're capable of, and I don't plan on sticking around to be your pawn, Jones."
As Olivia speaks, the smile on Jones' face slowly get wider, and it makes her spine straighten and her fingers curl into her palms.
He turns and leaves without another word.
Olivia, both unnerved by his reaction and relieved by his departure, returns to her cot and sits.
Her aching muscles, screaming before, relax slightly. The pain reminds her of her training, when she had been a rookie.
"Olive, are you okay?" Nick asks.
She nods numbly. "I'm fine," she says, not meaning it at all.
"Does Rachel know?" Charlie asks.
"Olivia didn't even know until last night," Peter sighs, glancing in the direction of her empty desk.
Walter stands next to Peter, staring at the ground and shuffling his feet back and forth nervously.
"Does she know Olivia's missing?"
Peter looks back at him. "No."
"We shouldn't tell her yet," Astrid says. "Don't worry her. We're gonna find Olivia."
"How?" Walter asks.
No one answers him.
A few moments later, Charlie asks him, "Do you remember any of the other Cortexiphan subjects' names? If Jones took Olivia, maybe he took some of the others."
"And he may have left a trail," Astrid adds.
Walter shakes his head. "I…I'm sorry, I can't. I'm afraid my memory's not what it used to be."
"But are there records?" Astrid asks.
"If there are, I don't have them."
"But someone we know might," Peter says.
"Who?" Walter asks.
"Nina Sharp," Peter sighs. "Guess it's time to call in another favor."
'Group work' turned out to be something Olivia didn't expect.
They were made to stand in a big circle, with their arms spread out on either side of them. A man—a different man, an older man—stood in the center and gave instructions.
"Close your eyes," he says, "and open your mind. Let it reach out and fill the entire room."
Olivia peeks open an eye, and sees everyone else is doing as they're told. The man turns to face her and he closes her eye again.
"Let your mind go," he continues in what Olivia assumes is supposed to be a 'soothing' voice. "Timothy, how many can you feel?"
"Fourteen, I think. No, thirteen…and a half. Someone's holding back, not connecting…She's confused, lost." He takes a deep breath. "It's Olivia."
Olivia opens her eyes at the sound of her name.
The man in the center of the circle turns to her. "It's okay. It'll take some time before she's fully connected," he says and Olivia realizes he's not talking to her. "Just pull her under as best as you can."
The man raises his hand in a gesture for her to close her eyes.
She does.
When she does, something comes over her. It's slow at first, but it spreads through her mind and her entire body, like a slow-burning fire under her skin.
"She's under."
"She was only dosed yesterday. It may get harder to pull her in as it burns up, she'll have to be complacent."
She doesn't know how, but she knows that Timothy nods.
"Now I want everyone to pick an image, a single image to send out. Timothy, one at a time, name off the images and who they came from."
A moment passes before he speaks. "James, a hospital bed. Miranda, a cup of coffee. Nancy, a window. Susan, a bus. Alan, a book. Nick, a teddy bear. Sally, a strawberry. Cameron, a clock. Olivia, a photo…" He trails off, even though he's only gone through about two-thirds of them.
"Timothy?"
"It's Olivia, her image is…fuzzy."
"That's fine. Move on if you can."
He takes another deep breath. "Lisa, an apple. Ken…"
"Nick, it's your turn."
"Okay," he says from beside Olivia.
"Contentment."
Olivia doesn't know what's going on, but she relaxes a little in her own skin.
"Fear."
Olivia tenses, her body on alert. Several people around the room begin to breathe a little faster.
"Laughter."
The entire circle begins to laugh, including Olivia. It's as if her mind has been hi-jacked. Only then does she realize what's going on.
"Pain," the man continues.
One person lets out a broken sob—it sounds like James. Several others inhale sharply. Someone groans. Olivia doesn't know why or where from, but she hurts. She's about to lose her balance when it fades away, receding like heartburn.
"Good. Now everybody take a deep breath and open your eyes."
They do.
"You know the drill, now. Sally, work with Nancy and Susan, for today."
She nods. Everybody heads back in the direction of the room where they ate breakfast. Olivia follows, as she has been for the past two days and, she supposes, will continue to do until she escapes or knows the routine. Hopefully the former, she thinks.
James is led in the direction of the other doors, helped by the man from the circle.
When they arrive in what Olivia mentally dubs the Cafeteria, every pair—and, in Sally, Nancy, and Susan's case, trio—takes a separate table.
Olivia sits across from Nick.
"What do we do now?" she asks.
"Now," he says with a gentle smirk, "we figure out what you can do."
Charlie flew with Peter and Walter to New York. The trip felt long, but ultimately was shorter than driving would have been.
Massive Dynamic is much bigger than any of them expected.
And even though Charlie's the only official agent, Walter's name is the one that gets them in to see Nina Sharp. Olivia's name helps, too.
"Agent Francis," Nina says, shaking his hand.
"Miss Sharp," he returns.
"Peter, Walter," she nods to them.
Peter nods back. Walter smiles. "Hello, Nina."
She smiles back uncomfortably. "What can I do for you today?"
"We're here because you told Olivia that there was a second trial of Cortexiphan in Jacksonville," Peter says.
"Yes, I did."
"We need any and all records on that trial and the Wooster trial, as well."
"I'm afraid there's not much by way of records. William was a man of many talents, and although documentation was one, secrecy was another. Whatever he had, he didn't keep it here."
"Ma'am, I know that you're running a major corporation here, and I understand the need for…discretion. But if you are withholding evidence, we could charge you," Charlie says.
Peter's sure that Nina knows Charlie is bluffing, but he can also see the threat makes her a little nervous and even more curious.
"Withholding evidence, Agent Francis? Has there been a crime committed?"
"Yes, ma'am, Agent Dunham is missing."
This definitely catches her attention. "Oh, I had no idea. And you think this is related to Cortexiphan?"
Peter says, a little rudely, "You called Olivia last night and told her about Jacksonville. How did she sound to you? Surprised?"
"I suppose, but—"
"I was there when she took the call, Miss Sharp, and she was scared. Do you know why?" He didn't even let her try to answer. "Because Olivia grew up in Jacksonville. On a military base."
Nina didn't respond.
"Please, Miss Sharp, we believe the person took Olivia has taken other Cortexiphan subjects, too, and those files may lead us to wherever she is," Charlie adds.
"Look, I'm truly sorry about Olivia. I am. I'll give you what we have on the Cortexiphan trials, but like I said, it's fairly light."
"Well, we'll take it anyway. Thank you." Charlie stands, holds his hand out to her again.
"You're welcome," she says, taking it.
Peter is the first out of the office, and Charlie's not far behind.
"Nina?" Walter asks, still in his chair.
"Yes, Walter," she sighs.
"You've known about Olivia the whole time, haven't you? You must have recognized her mane from the start. I didn't, but I'm not exactly the best at remembering," he giggles nervously.
Nina doesn't answer. She stands again and walks up to him.
"Where's Belly, Nina?"
"He didn't do this, Walter."
"I know he didn't. David Robert Jones did."
Nina glances away, and then sighs again.
"Please, Nina, help us find these children. What we did back them wasn't right, but what Jones is doing now is worse. He found Belly's manifesto. But there was a part missing, about how our children are our greatest resource. If he hasn't read that, how will he know to stop?"
Nina looks at him, and walks back to her desk. She picks up her phone and pushes one button.
"Yes, could you give the Wooster and Jacksonville files to the agent outside, please? Yes, all of them. Thank you."
Walter smiles at her again. "Thank you, Nina."
"My ability?" Olivia asks.
"Yeah," Nick says.
"Well, what's yours?"
He laughs. "What happened in the circle out there?"
She thinks back. "You made everyone feel what you were feeling."
He nods. "They call it reverse-empath. It's harder to do with the others, but with normal people it's easy." His eyes drop for a moment, but the find her again. "What have you done so far?"
"I turned out some lights, I think."
"That's just the activation test," he says. "Anything else?"
"No."
"Well, we'll just have to figure it out. Look around. What do you see?"
She looks at the group closest to them: Sally and the twins.
Sally holds a ball of fire in her hands. Nancy and Susan light different objects on fire just by looking at them.
She glances over at Timothy and his partner. The second guy, she remembers from the photo his name was Mark Little, but his cot is labeled Cameron James. He looks like he's just closing his eyes, but the table next to him slides closer, as if magnetized to him.
Miranda Greene makes her hand go through the table. Her partner Tessa makes a spoon bend just by looking at it.
"Do you remember anything? From when we were kids, from Jacksonville…"
Olivia shakes her head. "No. Nothing like this. Which is weird, because I have an eidetic memory." She sighs.
"It's okay, Olive," Nick says, laying a gentle hand on her wrist. It makes her think back to the bar, to Peter.
The light above them flickers.
Nick looks up. "What were you just thinking about?"
"Nothing," she says immediately. "Just…thinking."
"Well, think some more."
"Why?"
He smiles. "An experiment."
She hesitates, but nods. She closes her eyes on instinct, and let the memories of her and Peter in the bar fill her mind.
They drank, they talked. She drove him home. He kissed her.
Something above her pops, and she hears the tinkling of broken glass on the cement floor. She opens her eyes and finds all eyes on her.
"Is everybody okay?" Nick asks. There's murmurs.
Olivia suddenly feels drained. "Did I do that?" she asks softly.
The light that burst leaves a gaping square of dark in between the other fluorescents, which still flicker on and off periodically.
"'Fraid so," he says.
Peter goes over files on the plane with Charlie. He goes over them again on the way back to the lab, and another time at the lab, locked away in Olivia's office.
One passage in particular though, he can't help but reread. And every time, it makes him a little sick.
Subject 13 shows signs of increasing instability. Came to school with a sprained wrist, mother said she fell down the stairs. Subject can be introverted, but forms intense bonds with those she allows close to her. Does well in partner groups. Highly protective of partner. May have experienced crossing-over, but trigger is unknown. More testing needed.
What makes him sick is the sprained wrist. Her own mother claimed she fell down the stairs, when likely her step-father had been beating her. He tries not to judge, but it's hard not to.
What makes him reread, though, is the information on a partner. If only the other child was identified, even just a subject number, it may be a lead.
"Walter?" he calls, file in hand. He leaves the seclusion of the office in search of his father, hoping desperately for a miracle.
"Yes, Peter?" he calls back.
Peter finds him in Gene's stall, just finishing up a milking.
"Did all the Cortexiphan subjects have partners?"
"Oh, yes," Walter says, lifting the metal bucket from beneath the cow. "We felt it necessary for the children to have someone to rely on. Like the 'buddy-system' at summer camp."
Peter shakes his head. "Disturbing," he murmurs.
"Why?" Walter asks.
"I think I may have found something on Olivia, and was hoping you could maybe remember the name of her partner."
Walter thought a moment. "Nothing's coming to mind, son. Maybe a little LSD could help."
Peter placed a hand against his father's chest, stopping him in his tracks. "Let's not, for now. Okay?"
"Fine," he concedes. "But if you find anything on Subject 14, that would be him."
"How do you know?" Peter asks skeptically.
"We went in numerical order, son."
A/N: Whoop-whoop! Chapter 4, up and running! And this is a long(ish) one! Now I just have to write Chapter 5…and find a quote to put at the beginning of the chapter. If anyone's wondering, I scored the one above from an essay I wrote in English class. Totally used Olivia as my example, too. Because apparently I try to work Fringe into school essays…REVIEW, MY LOVELIES.