Lincoln's first case started with 3 dead bodies, only one of which had died a particularly gruesome death.
"This guy's brain melted. Are we sure it's not that computer virus?" Lincoln said, as the corpses were wheeled in.
Walter looked puzzled and then said, "Ah. No. It is definitely not the same. In that case, the brains leaked out through the nose and ears, this man's brains burned so hot it became gaseous and then liquid and drained down his spine." Walter pulled off the top of the man's skull. "See?"
Lincoln said, "Okay, I believe you."
Olivia noticed Lincoln wincing at the sight. Peter looked up from his examination of the other two dead bodies. "These two, on the other hand, died of perfectly ordinary bullets. Fired by gas brain, right?"
"Mr. Ottoli. Warren Ottoli shot his wife and sister when all three were out to breakfast," Olivia said. "The witnesses said he stood up and said nothing as he shot both women. One witness said his movements were jerky, like he was being controlled. That witness also suggested it might be alien abduction syndrome."
Lincoln was the only one who smiled at that. Olivia said, "Then Ottoli collapsed. And after examination, they brought all the bodies to us."
Lincoln said, "They're also bringing us Ottoli's computer and other things from his house."
Peter said, "Did he live with his sister? I assume he lived with his wife."
"Never assume," Walter cackled.
"He did live with his wife and his sister," Olivia said, looking over the file. "He worked for a company that mediates billing disputes."
Peter said, "Any link in his file as to why his brain melted down his spine?"
"Nothing. We're waiting on his medical records," Lincoln said.
They spent the day examining everything they'd received from Ottoli's residence and workplace. Olivia took the copied files from his laptop home with her on a external drive.
"What are you looking at?" Peter glanced at Olivia's laptop screen and the many many tiny squares of thrusting and pumping. "That looks like porn."
"It is," Olivia said, shutting her laptop. "From Ottoli's computer. Just tons and tons of pictures and videos. I'm checking to see if they're too big or have odd metadata. I can't take it anymore. If I have to look at one more woman in thigh highs getting fucked in the ass, I will, I don't know, do something to my eyes."
Peter took the laptop from her. He said, "I bet there's a video here where something gets in a someone's eyes."
She glared at him. He opened the laptop and said, "Show me where you stopped. I'll take the bullet for you."
"The 500th woman wearing thigh highs and heels," Olivia said. She glanced at Peter and the tiny movement of his mouth. She said, "Really?"
"What?" Peter scrolled down. "Tell me when to stop. And why you're so opposed to thigh highs."
"I've never worn them," Olivia said. "I'm not opposed, I just don't get it. It's the hose, right? Women in hose but still naked."
"I didn't say anything," Peter said. Olivia just looked at him. "Tell me where to stop," he repeated.
"That one, that was the last one I could look at," Olivia said. "I'm going to wear that outfit tomorrow."
"Please?" He smiled at her. "But not in that pink, you'd look better in black." He stood up. "I'm taking this to the bedroom."
She sat back on the couch and read files for a half hour. It wasn't working, she couldn't find the threads.
Peter called her from the bedroom. She went in and he turned the laptop around to face her. "Look at this," he said, pointing to a drawing on the screen.
She swallowed and made a face at the drawing. Peter said, "It's case related. Look what that woman in the corner right is holding."
Olivia looked. "That's, that is a tentacle dildo. That's exactly what they looked like."
"Exactly," Peter said. "If you just look at the art, it's all the same artist, and I bet that's not the only thing from the other side in them."
She sat down next to him and looked at the art he'd selected. "You're right. How does that happen?" She looked closer at the five pictures. "This is all the other side. I mean, the shoes and the phones - look, that guy still has his ear cuff on."
"He looks happy. Maybe he was just drawn that way," Peter said.
She cupped his obvious erection through his underwear. "Please tell me this wasn't about the tentacle dildo."
"Hey, I looked at porn for half an hour. Set aside your issues with wardrobe, ignore all the ones where the women look like they're not enjoying having their faces shoved into some guy's ass, it's generally attractive people having sex."
"I don't have issues with the wardrobe," Olivia said. "I just don't find it hot." She tugged Peter's underwear down.
He pulled her by the waist so she was kneeling on the bed, between his legs. He started getting her pants off her. He sat forward enough to kiss her jaw. He murmured, "You prefer more realistic choices? Wrinkled slacks on the floor, wet panties that aren't thongs?"
"I don't like to only watch," she said. She unbuttoned her shirt. She shifted enough to get out of her pants now that Peter had pushed them down to her knees. She threw her shirt and pants somewhere off the bed.
All that porn, she thought, but they ended up having sex with Peter on top in the missionary position. Excellent sex, the kind that made her wish again she and Peter had gotten their shit together so much sooner so they could have done this more often in her lifetime.
She dreamed Peter died in the machine, disintegrating in front of her eyes.
!
"This is so intriguing," Walter said. Peter kept his eyes firmly on the porn drawings and tried to block any movement Walter made out of his peripheral vision. Peter really didn't want to know. Lincoln looked over Walter's shoulder and said, "Whoa."
"I have to show this to Nina," Walter said.
Peter said, "Really, Walter?"
"Yes," Walter said. "I'm trying to make sure the company continues to be financially successful and I am quite sure that tentacle dildo would be very remunerative."
Peter said, "More than the treatment that keeps people alive when their heart has been removed?"
"Probably not," Walter said. "But you never know, the sexual urges of the modern soul can definitely be quite powerful."
"It looks Hieronymus Bosch-like," Lincoln said.
"I was thinking more Where's Waldo, only very detailed," Astrid said.
Walter looked around at the three of them and then back to the drawing.
"No one's enacting that for you, Walter," Peter said.
"No, no, I was just trying to picture it, see if it was feasible. Is this a scene our erotic artist saw for him or herself? Is he listening in on someone's dreams from the other side?" Walter said. "How did Mr. Ottoli acquire these?"
Astrid said, "I did an image search but nothing's coming up yet. He had software on his computer, he could have drawn this."
"But there was no sign of any other artwork on his computer or in his house, not that he'd done himself," Lincoln said.
"If you're drawing detailed orgies, you just don't draw 5 of those and then nothing else," Peter said.
"Unless someone else drew them and took over Mr. Ottoli's body," Walter said.
"Or it was art therapy," Astrid said. "Maybe?"
"What would he be in therapy for?" Lincoln held up one of the drawings and squinted at the lower corner.
"We know what he was in therapy for," Peter said. "Clinical depression."
Astrid said, "Drawing orgies is a treatment for clinical depression?"
"More effective than most anti-depressants," Walter grumbled with a pointed glance at Peter. Peter glared at him until Walter looked away.
Then Walter said, "OH oh oh, I have an idea!" He walked briskly into the storeroom, humming.
!
Olivia had been searching for more art that included details from the other side. It was a slog. Lincoln came into her office and said, "Whoa," as soon as he saw her screen. Then, "Looking for more other side erotica?"
"No luck so far," Olivia said. "None at all."
"Walter had an idea and then he and Peter started talking about transcranial something. I decided I could better contribute by helping you," Lincoln said.
"I'm not sure you can, you've never been to the other side. No one's spent as much time there as I did," Olivia said.
"You could tell me things to look for. It sounds like you'd like to share the burden," Lincoln said. He listened to her describe the dildos, ear cuffs, and other things she'd seen he might look for. He nodded and started on his own search.
"Can I ask you a personal question?"
Olivia met his eyes and nodded. Lincoln said, "There seems to be some tension between Peter and Dr. Bishop on this issue of drugs. Prescription drugs."
Olivia leaned forward. She said, "Dr. Bishop was in St. Claire's for 17 years and he has a very low opinion of more traditional therapy approaches. Peter, you may have guessed, is taking anti-depressants as prescribed by his doctor."
Lincoln said, "I got the impression he was forced into that."
"Who gave you that impression?" Olivia frowned.
"Peter," Lincoln said.
Olivia shook her head. That sounded like Peter. Lincoln said, "Why was he forced into therapy, if you can tell me?"
"The real question is, what didn't get me forced into FBI therapy?" Peter breezed in and sat down next to Olivia. He smiled at Lincoln's blushing embarrassment.
"Sorry," Lincoln said.
Peter smiled again. He said, "So, we have something else to research."
"Thank God," Olivia said. She closed her browser completely and wiped her history. If only she could do the same to her mind.
"We believe Ottoli received transcranial magnetic stimulation to treat his depression. Walter thinks that's why his brains melted and probably why he went crazy," Peter said.
Lincoln asked the question so Olivia didn't have to. "What is transcranial magnetic stimulation?"
"It's a legitimate therapy for severe depression," Peter said. "Walter thinks it sounds great and suggested I should try it in lieu of the quack drugs I'm on so we're on a time out right now. Anyway, it involves using magnetic pulses to the brain. Walter and I theorized that somehow Ottoli's doctor or someone else modified the treatment for more of a mind control use."
"Just a time out?" Olivia looked at Peter's calm face.
"Astrid is being mean to him, too. I think she's refusing to respond to him unless he actually calls her Astrid," Peter said. "But I thought you two could start looking into TMS practices here in Boston."
"Was the TMS on Ottoli's medical record?" Lincoln was already typing.
Olivia scanned the file in front of her. "No." She looked back at Peter. "Why are you so sure?"
"We found generic pamphlets for TMS in his stuff, he has withdrawals of over $500 every two weeks for the past three months," Peter said. "We think he didn't want it on his medical record."
"Or paid by his company health insurance," Olivia said.
Peter said, "Also we have no idea how it all ties into the other side porn."
"I'm happy to look at anything else," Olivia said.
!
Peter and Astrid visited Ottoli's doctor. The man insisted he had not referred Ottoli for TMS. "I don't think it would have helped him. He was coming along fine."
Peter said, "And he never expressed the desire to kill his wife or sister?"
"Of course not," the doctor said. "He tended much more to suicidal ideation."
Astrid said, "Have you recommended any of your other patients try TMS? Someone Mr. Ottoli might have met in the waiting room?"
"None," the doctor said. "I'm not a fan of TMS. The studies are inconclusive, in my opinion."
Astrid suggested they walk around the area around the doctor's office to see if they saw anything. They both ordered lattes at the small coffee place in the lobby of the building where the doctor's office was located. Astrid said, "That guy was no Dr. Felton, huh?"
"Have we all seen her?" Peter wasn't surprised.
Astrid shrugged. "I like her. Don't you?"
"No," Peter said. "But I'm there against my will."
"Even now?" Astrid frowned.
"Yes, even now," Peter said. "Maybe it's Walter's bad influence. I just don't like shrinks."
"I don't have an opinion on all shrinks," Astrid said. "I said I like Dr. Felton."
"I appreciate her intelligence," Peter said.
"She hasn't stabbed you yet, which shows you she's really tolerant," Astrid said.
Peter smirked at her. "So I also appreciate her patience and tolerance."
Astrid found the pamphlet for a specific TMS place in the nearby juice bar. Peter drove to the doctor's office.
Astrid flashed her badge and asked to speak to Dr. Shakfin. The receptionist rubbed her eyes and said, "You can't. He's dead."
Peter said, "When?"
"Yesterday," the receptionist said, sniffling. "It was very sudden. I've had to make all these calls."
Astrid invoked the power of the FBI to look at Mr. Ottoli's file after confirming he was a patient. Peter went back to where the equipment was and started poking at it. He'd read about the procedure and the equipment involved this morning. He carefully removed a panel on the machine.
The receptionist said, "You can't do that!"
Peter just looked at her and then back at the machine. He said, "When was the last time Dr. Shakfin had maintenance in for this machine?"
Astrid had followed the receptionist in. She said, "You don't think the doctor did whatever was done to that machine?"
"Well, he's dead and I don't see any tools around here," Peter said. "I could be wrong. We need to get this back to the lab."
"No, you may not," the receptionist said. "We rent from a specialized company and they're coming."
"Refer them to Homeland Security," Peter said. He was able to remove the box he had found attached to something else entirely in the machine. He squatted on the floor and looked the box over.
Astrid arranged for all the equipment, the doctor's body, and the records for the last week of appointments sent to the lab. She said, "I'll stay here and see what I can find while I wait."
Peter said, "I'll take your car?" Astrid shook her head. Peter said, "I'll catch a cab."
!
By the end of the day, Brandon, Walter and Peter were poking and prodding at the box at Massive Dynamic. Olivia was at her apartment with Lincoln going over the other files. "So it's not from the other side," Lincoln said.
"No," Olivia said. "But it seems to have some connection to the other side? It creates a link? Or a window? I'm sure at some point Peter will send an email with an explanation I just barely understand."
"We think this guy, Dr. Shakfin, didn't do it," Lincoln said.
"No, they're sure of that. First, he was murdered in his apartment around the same time we took all of Ottoli's personal effects. Someone put that box into his machine and used it to make Ottoli kill, and a side effect seemed to be that Ottoli also saw porn from the other side," Olivia said. "I don't get what the plan was. Mind control? Something else?"
"And who else got the treatment that makes their brains melt?"
Olivia exhaled. "Do you want another beer?"
"No, I have to drive home eventually," Lincoln said.
Olivia said, "Your boyfriend is out of town?"
"He's back tomorrow," Lincoln said. "I guess we both have to go it alone tonight."
Olivia flipped over to the next file. "I tell myself I want my alone time but whenever I have it, I can't think of anything I want to do."
"And then you call him because you miss his voice," Lincoln said, smiling.
"Oh, no, I never call him," Olivia said. "He calls me."
!
Later, Peter tried to explain while Walter and Brandon added in completely extraneous comments behind him. "The box transforms the magnetic stimulation. The resonance that whoever is using, he's aiming to take them over, but it's also opening a small window to the other side."
Walter, as always, wanted to talk about the Soviet experiments on children that used some of the same methods. Brandon, unfortunately, also found the whole thing deeply intriguing. Neither of them had ever read the footnotes, Peter was sure.
Lincoln said, "Didn't we already know that?" He looked adorably confused.
Peter said, "We didn't know it for sure. Now we have a better technical grasp of how he's doing it. Have we identified other patients?"
Olivia came into view behind Lincoln. She said, "We're interviewing them today. Are there signs we should be looking for?"
"I have no idea," Peter said. "Sorry for the lack of help."
Astrid stepped into the Skype frame. "I think we have a lead on the man who installed the box. The receptionist said he had a Russian accent, in her opinion. The company who owns the equipment didn't send anyone over, and none of their techs have a Russian accent. It could have been a put on, but none of them match the physical description or the pictures we have from the security camera. However, facial recognition did get a hit."
"Is the guy a commie?" Walter said from behind Peter. "I told you, Peter. This is based on the Soviet experiments, those Commies and their magnets!"
Astrid slightly rolled her eyes. "We think he's a Russian scientist who the CIA believed was part of what you might call the Soviet Fringe division. Weird science stuff. So yes, Walter, he was probably a communist twenty years ago. He looks to be late 40s, good shape, 5'10" and wearing a wig in every single capture we could find."
"It's like a sci fi spy novel," Walter said, excited.
"I suppose," Astrid said. "Unfortunately, the only information we have is from the CIA and they either know nothing or aren't going to share. They say they're going to track this guy down."
"We'll never get to talk to him or find out why he's building mind control devices," Peter said.
"Probably," Olivia said. "Broyles doesn't have the same pull with the CIA he used to."
"I can ask Nina," Walter said.
"That's an excellent idea," Peter said.
Finally, everyone left and it was just Peter and Olivia on Skype. He said, "I love you."
She smiled at him and said, "See you soon."
!
Every single one of the 12 patients Olivia and Lincoln attempted to interview were under the unknown Russian's control. They figured it out as each patient immediately tried to kill both of them as soon as they saw them. Luckily, only three had guns. None of the three were particularly good shots. The rest used knives or tried to hurl heavy objects. Olivia and Lincoln ended up unscathed.
Each patient died a minute after the attempt to kill. "It is not that their brains turned to mush," Walter said. "This is absolutely a completely different process."
"Sorry, Dr. Bishop," Lincoln said. "I was too busy making sure they didn't kill me or Olivia."
Olivia said, "It's not very good mind control if you can only do one act and then poof, no brain." She was leaning against Peter, happy to have him back in the lab.
"Maybe it's great mind control," Peter said. "One act, no witness left to question."
"But none of them were very good at killing," Lincoln said. "Except Mr. Ottoli. Do we think this scientist had something against either of the women?"
"No connection we can find," Astrid said. "On the other hand we have 12 boxes of personal effects to look through."
"I'll take the ones who didn't look at porn," Olivia said, sighing.
!
Astrid came over and handed Peter a coffee. She said, "This week."
Peter said, "Please tell me it's a good thing."
"Actually, yes," she said. "But you go first."
Peter shrugged. "This week has sucked."
"It doesn't have to be a good memory," Astrid said.
"Dr. Felton forced me to talk about this woman I dated and I spent the rest of the day thinking about how many people probably count me as a bad memory. Deservedly so."
"Chipper outlook ya got there," Astrid said.
"Outside this lab, the numbers really are pretty high," Peter said.
"Tell me about the woman," Astrid said.
"Telling it twice won't make me come off as a good guy second time around," Peter said.
"If it's really dire, I'll tell you good things next week with no trade off," Astrid said.
"I like the trade off, you know I love listening to myself," Peter said. "I don't need a second therapist. I don't like the one I have."
Astrid just kept looking at him expectantly. He said, "Can I have pie instead since you're so curious?"
"Deal," she said. "But I'm making enough for everyone."
"Why are you so interested in my history?"
"When all this is over, I'm going to write romance novels and I need plots so between you and Olivia I figure I'm covered," Astrid said.
Peter sighed. "I know that's not true. But anyway. The second person I loved, I met her in Houston. A friend emailed me that he had a great way for both of us to get rich. I knew he was trying to scam me but I thought it would be nice to see Texas. We fleeced someone else instead of each other and he left town until things cooled off. I was going to follow him but I went out to lunch at this taqueria in Montrose and my waitress was, she was beyond gorgeous."
"The equivalent to your next love except woman model?"
"She wasn't model pretty, she was just gorgeous. She asked me if I played piano and I said yes, and honestly, we started going out that night. So I stayed in my friend's apartment and we dated for about three months. She would waitress, I got a job at a bookstore, snuck into Rice University to use their equipment for other projects, life rolled on. One day I come home and she's packing her bags. She tells me her ex-boyfriend is back from Mexico and she's loved him since she was 17 so she's going with him."
Peter looked down. "I was angry. I kept saying 'what the fuck,' and she kept backing away from me. I was more than a half foot taller than her, and I was scaring her. She said I should never ever contact her and she ran out with all her stuff. I didn't do anything, you know, but I think of how she must have thought of me. She wasn't wrong."
"She was wrong that you would hurt her," Astrid said.
"Sure, but I'd hurt lots of people without even thinking about it. I never felt connected to the masses of humanity, I never minded taking people's money. They weren't real to me," he said. "I've beat the crap out of people and it never troubled me."
"Does it trouble you now?"
"I dunno, Dr. Felton," Peter said.
"Well, not to steal her thunder but everything you're saying sounds like almost logical given that you were kidnapped and surrounded by people who were like aliens to you," Astrid said, kindly.
"She never says things like that. Does she say that to you? She always sits there and waits for me to say it," Peter said.
"I'm pretty sure we're very different sessions, Peter," Astrid said.
"Because you're saner than me," Peter said. "Before you say it, I know it's not hard to be."
"How old were you?"
"19," Peter said.
"When I was 19," Astrid said. "I was a sophomore at Brown, and my girlfriend lived in her own apartment off campus. She loved to bake, too, and we'd make these complicated recipes together. Cakes with 20 ingredients and pies with handmade crust you had to roll with a particular roller or something."
"Your stories are always better than mine," Peter said.
"This week, I met someone," Astrid said, smiling broadly.
"Where? Are you sure she's not secretly transphobic?"
"I am sure and I met her at my friend's poetry reading," Astrid said. "She's brilliant."
"Does she know you're brilliant, too?"
"We talked about cryptology," Astrid said.
"So yes," Peter said.
!
Any day now, Peter thought. He slouched further into the couch, his arm around Olivia. They were having a belated housewarming party. "Very belated," Astrid had said.
"Well, now we're dating," Peter had said.
"It's also very belated for that," Astrid had said.
"Will you just accept we should have a party?"
So they had a party. Walter was already unbelievably high. He was explaining something to Lincoln's poor boyfriend. Peter didn't want to know. Astrid and her new girlfriend were telling an elaborate story about code breaking to Olivia who was incredibly interested.
Any day now, Peter thought. Peter's father was going to take him. He thought if he told Dr. Felton that, she would ascribe it to his mental problems. She wouldn't realize it was the truth.
The only solution was to get into the Machine first.
So he threw a party because he wanted his friends and Olivia and Walter around him.
He woke up in the morning, Olivia breathing his shoulder. He felt more positive. He felt like he might make it. Maybe hypothetical Dr. Felton was right that his conviction was just his crazy talking.
!
Lincoln almost felt guilty that he was so happy. He really was, though. He had Liv. It brightened his day.
"Stop smiling," Charlie said.
"I'm happy," Lincoln said. "You know what happy means, right? Isn't that what you have with Bug Lady?"
"Yeah, I've heard of it. And I don't have anything with Bug Lady but Mona and I are doing pretty good. Between you and Liv, all this happy is killing me," Charlie said.
"Come on, Charlie, we all know it's the bugs killing you," Liv said. "Mona likes that about you."
Charlie just stared at the ceiling and muttered about certain people.
Lincoln got a call on his cuff from one of his guys. He said, "I will see you two later," and kept smiling like he meant it.
He couldn't even fake a grimace when he got back. Liv said, "Are you alright?"
"Let's talk about this later."
Later turned out to be that night, in the alleyway behind Charlie's apartment. He remembered standing there with Charlie speculating on when Liv would come back, on what had happened, when they first heard. He rubbed his forehead. He said, "A plan is in motion. They're going to kidnap the Secretary's son and bring him over here. After that they have a plan to get him into the machine to do what the Secretary wants."
"We don't want this to happen," Charlie said.
"No," Liv said. "No, Charlie, we don't."
"This machine, according to Liv, will destroy the other side and save our side," Charlie said.
Lincoln said, "You're comfortable with the mass murder of an entire universe?"
"No," Charlie said. "I'm uncomfortable with that. But I don't want to die, either, I don't want you two to die or Astrid or Broyles or Mona."
"There's a better way," Liv said. "I don't know what it is, but it's gotta be out there."
Charlie said, "Someone built this machine, isn't that a way?"
"The machine is ancient," Liv said. She looked like she was trying to recall a report she'd read. "The locations of the pieces were in a book that was just a bunch of crap, frankly, window dressing in my opinion, to get people to the machine. The Secretary has other things. He has a full schematic, and drawings. It has the power to create and destroy. All the Secretary cares about it is the destroying part."
"I just want to be sure, as we sit here contemplating treason, we're not also killing the best hope of our universe," Charlie said. "Maybe, just maybe, the super genius Secretary, as shady as he can be, is right here."
"I can't believe that," Liv said. "I can't."
"He's planning something, it won't end well. I think we should try and stop him," Lincoln said.
"Of course you do," Charlie said, smiling.
Liv said, "Why are you smiling?"
"Because," Charlie said. "Because that is exactly the stupidest thing I can imagine doing."
"It's a really bad idea," Lincoln said.
"It's an awful idea," Liv said.
"We're all going to die," Charlie said.
"I think we can definitely count on that happening," Lincoln said.
"I can think of worse ways," Charlie said. "The Secretary'll probably just kill us quickly."
"That is not a bad way to go," Liv said. "Quickly."
"That's what I want," Lincoln said.
Liv said, "Should we die in a blaze of glory before Peter gets snatched or after?"
"After," Lincoln said. We don't know how to stop what's planned on the other side."
"We should start figuring out where they'll take Peter Bishop," Charlie said. "Plan ahead."
"I'll tell Elizabeth," Liv said. "She may hear something."
"I've got a guy," Lincoln said.
"We've got a plan," Charlie said. "I always said you two would be the death of me."
"If we're lucky," Liv said, leaning and kissing Charlie's cheek.
!
Olivia sank down on the couch next to Peter. She said, "We've gotten nowhere on this TMS Russian killer. Tell me again what we know about this."
"The CIA is supposed to take care of it," Peter said.
Olivia frowned. "You don't want to talk about it?"
"I find experiments on children repulsive," Peter said.
"I do, too," Olivia said. "Tell me anyway."
"Walter and Bell used drugs to perceive the other side, they worked on ways to visualize the other side. They used vibrations in their first transfers, but they stopped because it was damaging the other side. Bell used some form of those vibrations, sound, to get across and back," Peter said. He reached for his beer and drank half of it.
"In the Soviet Union, they weren't so much into drug culture. They had their own knowledge of the other side somehow, that we've been able to reconstruct. They took babies and little children from orphanages and tried to get them to vibrate themselves over to the other side. They also tried magnetic waves to do the same thing. They tried doing them together," Peter said. He didn't look at her.
"It didn't work. 99% of the time, it didn't work. The kids would hear something once or get a foot over and then they'd go deaf or develop uncontrollable shaking. From what Brandon and I have found in the parts of the reports Massive Dynamic could get, they had probably three successes. Three kids who went over to the other side and came back and didn't go deaf or have other side effects. Judging from what you and I remember of the other side, it was not without damage to the other side." Peter sighed. "And none of it worked until 1985."
"After Walter took you," Olivia said. She was sitting close to him, her feet tucked under her, knees on his thigh.
"Walter opened things up," Peter said. "Unfortunately, we have no idea what happened to these so-called success stories. We know they were trained to carry on the experiments, taught by the scientists. But after the Soviet Union fell? No idea. We don't know where they went, if they're still alive."
"But now we think one of them is making boxes to put in TMS machines for mind control," Olivia said.
"Maybe, or maybe someone who knew about the experiments, one of the scientists, one of the students who knew the scientists," Peter said.
"If they could cross over, why not take advanced technology back to Soviet Russia and win the cold war?"
"Who knows? Maybe they did, it just wasn't enough," Peter said. "It's not like we have access to these records. Massive Dynamic probably has as good information as the CIA, they probably got it from the CIA. Or supplied it to them. They still don't know anything."
"This is super reassuring," Olivia said.
"It seems like someone from that era is experimenting on people. He's testing out mind control," Peter said.
"One act and poof goes the brain," Olivia said.
"I can see the need to refine the experiment,' Peter said. "Maybe someone should hook him up with that kid who mind-controlled me. What was that, hormones, pills? Add in some magnetism and you could have your own little army."
"Please don't make plans for the psychotic Russian," Olivia said.
"I just feel for the guy, if he's one of the successes. It's a shitty life," Peter said.
"Assuming he is, he's still making a choice," Olivia said.
"How much of a choice is it when your whole life is warped like that?" Peter finally looked at her.
"You think I lack free will?" Olivia sat up and away from him.
"Your life wasn't as warped as his, but yes, you think you have to fix everything, you're the one to do all this, but yes, yes, I do wonder if some of that is something Walter and Bell did to you," Peter said.
"Fuck you," Olivia said. She didn't move. "I wonder that sometimes, too. I wonder how many times my brain can be overwritten before it's not even mine. I don't remember the trials, I don't. But how did they make me forget?"
Peter pulled her close to him. "I have no answer for you."
"Thank god you're good in bed," Olivia said, wiping at her eyes. "It makes up for a lot."
"Should I make a sexual healing joke?"
"Please don't," Olivia said.
!
Peter found Astrid at her station, looking at her computer. "Last week," he said.
She smiled at him. "Are you going to depress me or say something TMI about Olivia?"
"Not about Olivia. Besides, you first," Peter said.
"I watched a couple of Firefly episodes because my friend insisted and I still want to sleep with Gina Torres," Astrid said.
"Me, too," Peter said. "Did you like the show?"
Astrid shrugged. "Do you love it or something?"
"I'm not a TV person, I just watch Star Trek with Walter," Peter said. "Olivia and I watch Jeopardy and documentaries. Also, she loves really bad horror movies. I mean, straight to DVD horror movies."
"You nod and just watch?" Astrid was smiling again.
"It's Olivia," he said. He paused. "Last week, and I mean actually yesterday, I saw the first guy I had sex with in that bar over in Stoughton."
"You're kidding," Astrid said.
"Nope," Peter said. "Except for the smoking and drinking, he hasn't aged that badly."
"How old were you?"
"18," Peter said. "Actually, it was also a bar in Stoughton. But not the same one. He was 18, too, and using a fake ID, and mine was much better."
"Did you bond over that?"
"No," Peter said. "We bonded over beers and video games. I mean, he wasn't the first guy I made out with, or groped, just the first time -"
"Are you defining sex as penetration here?" Astrid cocked her head to one side. "Because you know, that isn't the be all and end all."
"I know," Peter said. "But yes, in this case, I mean, fucking, like dick in ass. My ass specifically."
"At the same bar?" Astrid was grinning at him.
"In the parking lot. Bent over his car," Peter said. "I know, it sounds like it wasn't very sexy."
"Were you trying to get caught?"
"No, it was 4 am, the place was deserted. He used a condom," Peter said. "Also he was hot. Hotter than me at 18."
"Are you trying to impress me, Peter?" Astrid was still grinning.
"No," Peter said, smiling himself. "But it was funny thinking of all that when I saw him yesterday while we were investigating that slime thing."
"Is he still hot?"
Peter shrugged. "He's no Olivia. He's no Lincoln, either."
"Wait, you'd put Lincoln below Olivia when it comes to hotness?" Astrid waved to Lincoln as he came in.
Peter waited until Lincoln had walked up to them to say "Yes. Not by a lot, but yes."
"What are we talking about?" Lincoln looked between the two of them. Lincoln managed not to sound pathetic when he said it, but confident and ready to join in.
Astrid said, "Computers. Peter and I are comparing notes on building computers."
As he expected, Astrid cornered him a few hours later and said, "Why do you always tell me the sex stories of your gay past?"
He took the full coffee mug from her hand. She had two, one had to be for him. He said, "First, it's my bisexual past. Second, I've told you three stories total on this topic: yesterday's story, talking about Jamie in general, and third that time I told you how Jamie and I met."
"You're saying the only sex story has been this one," Astrid said. "It feels like more because this one feels more than a little TMI. I'm stuck on the bent over the car in the parking lot as hot. It sounds cold."
"I was a little drunk, it was August in Boston so 4 am wasn't that cold, and it was dirty hot kind of hot, you know?" He knew he was smiling at the memory. It was a surprisingly good memory.
"Okay, okay," Astrid said, smiling. "Dirty hot, I guess I can see. You know, for someone who seemed to have run as far from Boston as he could from a young age, you sure do know a lot of people around here."
Peter shrugged. "I came back a lot, even after my mom died."
"And that time you worked for Big Eddie," Astrid said.
"And that time I taught at MIT," Peter said.
"Do you have a lot of New York City stories? That might be a nice break," Astrid said.
Peter calculated. "I've spent the most time in Boston, but New York state is second. I've definitely spent time in New York City, but I actually spent five months in Rochester one time. After that, if you add up all the different times, third is probably Iraq. Then it's all just a lot of one-shots for a few weeks or three months."
"You've been all over the world," Astrid said.
"But I've never been to Australia," Peter said. "Not on this side."
"You remember things from your side?"
"I have been starting to. Since I touched the machine. I remember a trip there when I was 4, so it was the other side. I asked something stupid about being Down Under, down under what? My father laughed at me and pulled out a map, showing me where we were and my mother actually explained the term," Peter said. "He wasn't such a bad dad back then."
"When I was a kid, I asked my mom who Funk was and why was he so important that everyone talked about his godfather," Astrid said.
"Big James Brown fans in your family, I take it," Peter said.
"Yeah," Astrid said, smiling. "My mother specifically. She'd seen him in concert over 30 times."
"Did you ask how they proved he was the hardest working man in show business, because that's what I would have asked," Peter said.
"No," Astrid said. "I wasn't raised by Walter Bishop or people who pulled out maps to answer questions."
"I loved to prove things, I still love it. Walter does his with experiments, mine was always human nature. Is this guy as much of a greedy asshole as I think he is? Is the guy as gullible as I think he is?"
Astrid said, "Will he bend me over a car and fuck me in the ass or no?"
Naturally, Lincoln walked up at just that moment. He said, "I'm interrupting."
"I just want to say that was Peter's story, not mine," Astrid said.
"Hey," Peter said. "Maybe I didn't want to share that with Lincoln."
Lincoln said, "Over a car? Trunk or hood?"
"Ooh, do you have a car story, too? I don't have one," Astrid said.
"We can survey Olivia, too," Peter said.
"No one asks Walter," Astrid said.
"Also, it was the hood," Peter said.
"I've had trunk and hood," Lincoln said. "I was a pretty big slut in college."
"It just seems yucky," Astrid said. "Parts of you pushed against the car you don't want pushed against the car."
"No," Peter said. "I was about a foot from the bumper, only my chest and arms and sometimes the face were pressed against the car."
"Oh, I was the one doing the dick up the ass," Lincoln said. "So I guess I don't have the same car story."
Peter looked down and shook his head. He was going to remember that image next time he was jerking off. Astrid smirked at him like she could read his mind.
Before he left, Astrid pulled him aside. "Oh, god, Lincoln finally realized you've been flirting with him," she said, nearly laughing.
"Why is that funny?"
"After you left, he says to me, wait, is Peter bi? And I said, yes. And Lincoln said, I couldn't tell if he was just a really nice guy or he was flirting! I said you were definitely flirting but there is absolutely no chance you would ever cheat on Olivia."
"That's true," Peter said. "Am I making him uncomfortable? I don't want to do that."
"He's fine," Astrid said. "Don't worry. I told him to tell me if he was and he said he wasn't," Astrid said.
!
Olivia watched from the other side of the warehouse as Peter and Walter walked around the machine. Peter didn't seem as affected by it as he had last time. He was still affected, though, she could tell.
Lincoln said, "Do you really think they're going to move it to Manhattan?"
"To Liberty Island," Olivia said. "Walter's thinking that having it in the same location as the one on the other side might make a difference."
"Make a difference how?"
Olivia shrugged. "Walter and Peter are trying very hard to understand the machine. Honestly, this is one of those discussions where I remember they both have about 50 IQ points more than me."
"And me," Lincoln said. "But they think they can use it to make things better after Walter broke everything back in 1985?"
"Basically," Olivia said. "There's a book, too."
"I read it," Lincoln said. "It's incomprehensible. I think it's meant to be nonsense, just a, a way of getting the numbers across to people."
"You don't think there was a race of super advanced people inhabiting the earth even before the dinosaurs that were wiped out of all history?" Olivia smiled. "I think Walter loves the idea."
"He loves it because it ties into his theories about how we were all used to have extraordinary abilities."
"When did you hear that theory?" Olivia turned to look at Lincoln, who was fiddling with his glass. Then she went back to watching Peter. He looked slightly manic.
"I've done some, uh, well, Astrid calls it babysitting but we're not supposed to say that in front of Walter."
Olivia said, "Not too much?"
"No, no. Just when Asher's out of town, and Walter's been really agitated, I let Astrid have her nights and go home with Dr. Bishop. He can be pretty good company. Sometimes."
Olivia looked back at him. She said, "I think that's supposed to be Peter's job. He doesn't know people are babysitting Walter."
"It's not actually Peter's job," Lincoln said. "Look, my dad was a lawyer, brilliant and sharp as a tack. Then he had a stroke when I was 24, and my mom and I, we did what we could. But it wasn't our job."
"He passed away," Olivia said.
"Yeah, about two years ago," Lincoln said. "But my point is Peter doesn't have to do everything for Walter."
"Peter feels differently. He is Walter's legal guardian."
Lincoln said, "If you think Peter would feel guilty, then we don't tell him. He's got enough to worry about."
"He really doesn't like that, people keeping things from him," Olivia said.
"Walter or Peter?"
Olivia smiled. "Peter. Walter doesn't mind so much."
Peter and Walter walked over to them. Peter grabbed Olivia's hand and squeezed. She felt him almost trembling. He said, "So we need to somehow move this thing to Liberty Island."
Walter said, "I think it will be for the best, I really do. We need to make sure they are in the same location so they can vibrate together."
"That sounds like something fun to plan," Olivia said.
"We've decided to make it Nina's problem," Peter said.
"Great idea," Lincoln said.
"Absolutely," Peter said.
!
Charlie said, "There's a delay on the Peter kidnapping plan." They were in Lincoln's apartment, playing cards. Liv and Lincoln hadn't mentioned the picture of Mona or the amount of her stuff laying around.
"How much of a delay?" Liv put down her cards. She never liked poker.
"A delay," Charlie said. "Another two weeks."
"Which ties into what I heard," Lincoln said. "Instead of playing with the mind control, the experiments they're running, the ones they're trying to get information about on the other side, it's all about erasing memories."
"If they erase enough, Peter won't hate his father," Liv said. "They'll have to erase a lot."
"It's not a computer program, they don't just swipe at specific points," Lincoln said. "It's a matter of drugging him and drawing out the memories before erasing them. The experiments aren't going great so far, too much brain damage."
"Why not damage his brain?" Charlie shrugged. "If he's brain damaged maybe he still likes the secretary."
"It's wired for Peter," Liv said. She was considering, Lincoln could tell. "If it's made for Peter, it's made for someone who's smart. Maybe you need a certain IQ to operate."
"Then everyone in this room is doomed," Charlie said.
"We were doomed before, because the Secretary isn't our father," Lincoln said.
"As far as you know," Charlie said.
"Hey, hey, lay off my mother," Lincoln said.
"Your mother is very attractive," Liv said.
!
Dr. Felton said, "Let's talk about your mother."
Peter glared at her. He said, "No."
"You said you were getting back some of your memories of her."
"Still no," Peter said.
"Why?"
"Why don't I want to dissect my mother here? I don't want to, period," Peter said.
"Dissect," Dr. Felton said, patiently. She was one of the most irritating people Peter had met in his life. She said, "Okay. What was the first time you left home?"
He stewed for a minute and then said, "Why?"
She smiled again, the viper. "Why do you think?"
"You're looking for any excuse to make me talk about my mother," he said.
"Wow," she said, kindly as ever. "You're wrong. I don't have a checklist, Peter, I'm not going through a secret agenda of topics. I'm trying to help you."
"I'm here because I was forced to be," he said. "Your job is to help me be a more productive FBI asset and less dangerous to others."
"That's exactly how I think of it," she said, with a little bit of a smirk. "In pursuit of increasing your productivity and reducing your capacity to be a danger to others, I want you to be less miserable. I have to admit, when you're not as miserable, I enjoy talking to you more."
"Maybe I'm unpleasant when I'm less miserable," Peter said.
"I refuse to believe that," Dr. Felton said.
"People have said I'm an asshole," Peter said.
"I believe that," Dr. Felton. "Did you want to talk about that?"
He sighed and stopped crossing his arms over his chest. He picked at his jeans. He said, "I first left home when I was 16. I was in love with a girl, she went to Vanderbilt University. I followed her there after a week. I had a fake ID, in fact, I already had more than one. I used that to get one or two shitty jobs and rented a room at a shithole hotel. I lived there until January."
"What was the girl's name?"
"Clarity, which was always unfortunate. Ten years later, Jay-Z has a hit and everywhere I go, thank God for giving me this moment of Clarity, so I get flashbacks of my stupidity," Peter said, almost smiling.
"Stupid for following her? Stupid for breaking up with her?"
"I didn't say I broke up with her," Peter said.
"I deduced," Dr. Felton said with a little bit of glee. "You were in love, you said you've been in love five times, and the first one ended because you were scared of how serious it was."
"Excellent deduction," Peter said.
"Was she older than you?"
"No, we were the same age. I started high school when I was 13, when Walter was in St. Claire's. So we had no money and I went to public school. I tested out of a bunch of classes and basically took junior classes that whole year. The next year I only took 3 classes, took another three at Boston College. By the time I was 16, I had two classes left. I blew it off for Clarity so now Walter can keep pointing out I'm not even a high school graduate. I met her at Boston College, we were the youngest people in that math class," he said.
"She went to college," Dr. Felton said.
"And I didn't," Peter said. "Not legally. She was very focused. I wanted out of Boston."
"I hesitate to bring this up, but by Boston you mean your mother?"
He rubbed his jeans and looked at his shoes. He said, "Basically. But let's not leave Walter out of that calculus."
"Did you go back to Boston for the holidays?"
"Yes," Peter said. "Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's. Clarity did and there wasn't much to keep me there when she wasn't."
"And you broke up with her in January?"
"Yes," he said. "I was an asshole about it, but I didn't string her along or pretend it was anything it wasn't. I'm sure she's doing much better without me in her life."
Dr. Felton said, "You never checked up on her after you moved back to Boston?"
"Do you think I should look for her on Facebook?"
"No," Dr. Felton said. "Only if you're suddenly curious, I guess. I just wondered if that was the first time you cut someone out of your life so completely."
He looked up at Dr. Felton. He hated her more when she was good at her job. He said, "Yes."
"Did you talk to your mother while you were away?"
"I called three times a week," Peter said.
"Long talks or answering machine messages?"
"Both," Peter said. "She did have a life outside of raising me."
"How long were you back in Boston before you left again?"
"Two months. Honestly, after that I never really thought of Boston as home. I stopped by for a week or two until I went to Europe, and then I stopped seeing her at all and she was dead," he said.
!
Olivia was of two minds when it came to dealing with Peter on therapy days. She reconsidered calling it 'dealing with.' She appreciated his general almost distracted air because it meant he was taking it all seriously. She disliked the way she tended to brace herself for the worst. The worst so far had been Peter going into his room and reading a book in bed. She knew it wouldn't sound bad but when he did it, it was like a dark cloud enveloped him. He also pointedly didn't want to talk.
She knew it was silly. She was someone who was perfectly happy being alone. She had moments of stir craziness living with and working with Peter. It was different when he was so clearly shutting her out, she thought.
He made her worry about him. She felt unsafe about him.
Usually he just spent the evening thinking about something else. He would engage with her. He would make jokes. He beat her more than once at Scrabble and she could tell the whole time he was thinking of something else entirely.
Astrid glanced at Peter's empty place in the lab. "Does he ever get snippy when he comes home from therapy?"
Olivia smiled. "He saves snippy for Walter."
"I think it would drive me crazy to work with someone I lived with and was dating," Astrid said.
"I was just thinking that," Olivia said. "Sometimes I go a little stir crazy. I don't think I can take anyone for 24 hours a day. Not too many days in a row."
"I dated my college roommate," Astrid said. "Even in the beginning, I loved the classes we didn't have in common. It was like a chance to breathe. And she wasn't the type of girl was made you feel tied down, it was just a lot of her."
"I don't know how I'd date someone who didn't know what I did, though," Olivia said. "I don't know how you do that."
"I love it," Astrid said. "I get to talk about anything else besides this."
"Hey, Peter and I do that," she said.
"Beer or whiskey?" Astrid said, in a very bad imitation of Peter.
"We're drinking at work now? Great," Lincoln said as he sat down next to Astrid.
"We do," Astrid said. "Not yet today."
"Astrid was making fun of me," Olivia said. "And Peter."
"My boyfriend thought you two were very cute together," Lincoln said.
"See?" Astrid looked back at Olivia. "Someone else who manages a relationship without the other person being in Fringe division."
"Though I started dating him two years ago, so he's grandfathered in," Lincoln said. "I don't know what I'd do if I were single."
"You could date Peter," Olivia said. "If he were single."
"If Peter's single then so are you," Astrid said.
"Hmm," Olivia said. "Well, I couldn't date you," she said to Astrid. "You'd go crazy."
"Dating Broyles would be against FBI protocol," Lincoln said. "Is there anyone else?"
Astrid said, "Maybe someone at Massive Dynamic?"
"Eww," Olivia said.
"We can both date Peter," Lincoln said. "Or not. I don't know. This is a confusing hypothetical."
"Don't worry, you're not offending anyone," Astrid said.
"Good," Lincoln said. "I'll make sure to let Peter know he has to date me if I'm ever single."
"Just don't say it in front of Walter," Astrid said. "No one wants more stories about Walter's free love adventures."
"Especially Peter," Olivia said. "Have you ever noticed how many of Walter's stories take place when Walter was married?"
"Peter gets that look," Astrid said.
Lincoln said, "Is that what that look is? Isn't it more of a jaw clench?" Lincoln did a much better imitation of Peter than Astrid had done.
"I am not going to laugh at that," Olivia said.
"I'm not sleeping with him so I can," Astrid said. She smiled widely.
"Peter's mother is dead," Lincoln said, tentatively.
"Yes," Olivia said. "This one."
"I have a question about that, actually," Lincoln said.
"I got this," Astrid said. "Go home, Olivia."
Peter was on his laptop at the kitchen counter. She looked over his shoulder. "You know someone named Clarity?"
"I did," Peter said. "I dumped her when I was 16 so I thought, hey, how's she doing?"
"Does she have a 16 year old child I should have known about?" Olivia said, lightly.
"God, I didn't even think about that. She doesn't," he said. "She basically followed exactly the career path she had for herself back then. Tenure track professor of American Literature. Kinda sad, she was amazing at higher mathematics."
"What a loss," Olivia said. "She's pretty."
Peter closed his browser and shut down his computer. "Yes, by the way."
"Yes to what?" Peter poured her a glass of red wine and she took it.
"Oh, you weren't asking."
"Don't be a dick," she said.
"Hers was the first vagina I put my penis in," he said with a smirk.
"I wasn't asking that at all," Olivia said. "But hey, good to know. Clarity."
"Your turn," he said.
"I was 17," she said.
"I was actually 15 when we did that," he said.
"Good for you," she said. "I think his name was David. Donovan?"
"That good," Peter said.
"It wasn't bad. It was more like, oh, okay, that's done with, done that."
He leaned close to her and said, "Please tell me that's not how you see it now."
"No," she said. She hooked a finger in his belt and pulled him even closer.
"Also, she was my first love," Peter said. "What about you?"
"You're full of questions tonight," she said. "This is not your usual post-therapy mood."
He put his wine glass down and pulled her flush to him. She said, "Hrm, Lucas, and I was 22. So you did everything first."
"You graduated high school and college," he said. "You know, I think I'm two credits shy of having that high school degree."
"That sounds like a horrible movie, 32 year old super genius goes back to take gym and home ec," she said. He was squeezing her ass with both hands and she was suddenly very conscious of how much taller than her he was.
"Those might be the classes I was missing," he said.
She had already put her wine glass down. She stepped away from him and picked it up again, finishing the whole glass. "Are we doing this here or in the bed?"
Peter smiled at her. "Bed."
!
"For maybe tomorrow we die," Liv said, straddling Lincoln on the bed. "Should we be having sex like every time is the last time? Is this the wrong time to bring up a threesome or foursome?"
"Yes," Lincoln said. He caressed her legs. "Be serious with me for once."
"I'm serious with you all the time," Liv said. She took his hands and held them between hers. "I love you."
"I know," Lincoln said. "I know. I'm not adjusted the way you are. I want all the time in the world with you and I want it to be more than three more weeks."
"I do, too," Liv said. She shifted so they were laying next to each other. "It frightens me when we're mushy, like, it's the last scene in the movie right before someone dies."
"If we're making a joke, we're putting off death," Lincoln said. "I'm not sure that's true."
"If I'm carrying one last image of you to my death, I want it to be you laughing -"
"Please, you don't care about my face, you'll be thinking of my penis," Lincoln said, smirking. "It's so pretty."
"It is," Liv said. She ran her finger up and down the shaft. "And nice balls. You could do sex films."
"If I can do them with you," Lincoln said. "Not to be mushy."
"Oh, no, with such an aesthetically pleasing penis, you'll be in the gay ones," Liv said.
"I feel I should point out you also have a great body," Lincoln said.
"Duh," Liv said. "Maybe you should show me how much you like it."
Lincoln smiled. "I'm gonna get a sketchpad and draw you right now."
"Or you could fuck me," Liv said.
"That's actually what I was gonna do," he said, pushing his hand between her legs.
!
Dr. Felton, after cataloging all of Peter's non-existent side effects, opened with "It sounds like your mother's suicide had some profound effects on your life."
Peter stared at her, waiting for her to say something that wasn't as obvious as concrete. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then, for once, Peter won and Dr. Felton spoke first. She said, "You feel responsible for her death, don't you?"
He bit back the no shit, sherlock, he first thought of. Then he said, "I am, so yes."
"If at some point after you discovered the other Olivia's deceit, you had recklessly thrown yourself at something and died, suicide by being an untrained civilian acting as a federal agent, would either Olivia be responsible?"
He stared at her again. He said, "Well, thanks to your clever hypothetical, I now realize I'm not responsible, all cured."
She smiled. "That wasn't the point. I'm not trying to argue you out of feeling responsible, I don't think anyone can."
"Because I am," he said.
"You're not, but nothing I say will change your mind. I just wanted to know how this idea of responsibility extends to other people and your actions. You don't think some portion of your current state is the responsibility of the other Olivia?"
He considered. He sincerely tried for the rest of the hour to listen and consider.
He went home and poured himself four shots in quick succession of the quality booze Olivia kept around. He stared at the walls, at the one thing they had hanging on their refrigerator. Ella had sent a picture, so they had that one thing. One thing, he thought.
He got up and went to bed. He hadn't fallen asleep twenty minutes later when he heard Olivia come home. She puttered in the kitchen and came into the bedroom, unbuttoning her shirt. When she got in next to him, she was naked. "Hi," she said.
"Hey," he said. "Why exactly do you put up with me?"
"You're pretty cute," she said, kissing him. "Big dick."
"I'm serious," Peter said, smiling slightly in spite of himself. "I betrayed you."
"I'm not angry at you for that now," she said.
He felt a surge of irritation, he was exhausted being cast as a victim. "Why not?"
"I think," she said, and paused. "If I had that assignment, there are parts I would have never have done, but I would have worked very hard to be that undercover role. If Broyles had asked me to, and I thought it might save lives. And I was her. She's very serious about getting her job done. So maybe I need to be more humble."
"You're not mad at me because you're just that good?" He smiled again.
She raised an eyebrow. She shrugged and smiled. She kissed him again. "How drunk are you?"
He said, "I am definitely drunk."
"Don't waste the good stuff on your before bed drink," she said. "We have wine for that."
Two days later, he was back at Dr. Felton's office. Peter said, "Are you still not in favor of me and Olivia?"
Dr. Felton smiled at him. "I was concerned about the damage you could do to each other."
Peter rolled his eyes and sat back in the chair across from her. "Well, we haven't yet."
She nodded. He said, "I thought maybe it was because we were on such different places on the map when it comes to, ah, mental health."
"That's not a good analogy," Dr. Felton said. "It's not a journey you can compare. In the space of four months, you discovered everything you knew about your life was a lie and a lie again and then another lie. Even one of those revelations would have been a hard blow."
"You make me sound like some cartoon character getting flattened over and over again," he said.
"I didn't make it sound like that at all, but I understand why you would visualize it that way. It's no wonder that the way you've learned to deal with the world since you were eight stopped being effective after being flattened," she said.
He stared at her with hate. He knew it was a defensive and childish response but apparently his ways of dealing with the world were unreliable.
!
"It feels weird, doing this work," Liv said.
"Our actual jobs, you mean," Charlie said. They were scanning up and down a building where a tear had been detected.
"Which we get paid to do," Lincoln added.
"Some of us better than others," Charlie said. He stopped in front of one room.
"I'm worth it," Lincoln said.
"Maybe he was being bitter about me," Liv said. She went up to Charlie and looked over his shoulder at his meter.
"No, I get paid more than you," Charlie said.
Lincoln walked over to join Charlie. There was a clear tear forming inside the apartment. Charlie banged on the door. "Fringe, let us in," he said.
There was no answer. Lincoln broke down the door.
It was a completely empty apartment. Not even dust. In the middle of the main room, a device had been placed, hanging from the ceiling by rope.
"What the hell is that," Liv said as she walked forward. "Is this a trap?"
"If that device is causing the tear to form, we need to turn it off," Lincoln said, walking up to it. It was simple but didn't look homemade. At least not in a cheap home. He touched it and felt a thrum. Then he grabbed it and started looking for some way to turn it off.
Charlie said, "Is that a smart idea?"
Lincoln heard Charlie calling Astrid in the background, transmitting pictures back to the base.
Lincoln found what he was looking for and twisted the top to what he thought was the off position. Charlie said, "Tear is not forming. We need to pack that thing up to take it back to the base."
"Let's get out of here," Liv said. "This feels like a set up."
"It does," Lincoln said. Lincoln dug out his freeze gun. It had another name, but Lincoln loved calling it his freeze gun like he was the Red Lantern. He sprayed down the device as the three of them headed out of the building.
They were barely on the threshold out when the whole building exploded.
"Okay," Liv said, staring at the burning building. "I think I was right about trap."
Charlie said, "Do you think they're gonna tell us this one is anti-amber activists, too?" He tapped his cuff and gave Astrid an update.
Liv said quietly, "Do you think the Secretary is trying to kill us?"
Lincoln stared at the flames. Anyone who'd been alive in that building wasn't now. Life mattered, life always mattered. He said, "No. I don't think he is. If the Secretary really wanted the three of us dead, we would all three of us be dead. I think this is anti-amber activists. Do I think they have some very sophisticated help? Who benefits from these kind of things?"
"No one," Liv said.
"That's not true," Charlie said, startling both of them. "It helps the Secretary. The more chaotic the world is, the more he can do whatever he wants."
"He doesn't need to do anything," Liv said. "The universe has that covered."
"Yeah, but he's the kind of guy who hedges his bets," Charlie said.
!
They had another case, something that happened only because there were now more and more spots where the universe was decaying. Olivia was in New York City with Nina putting together the amber protocols and what to measure.
Peter was in the bowels of Liberty Island, where Nina had had the machine moved. He and Walter looked at the schematics, looked at the machine. "So much of this in your head, Peter," Walter said. "We need to prepare your head."
"Does this involve LSD, Walter?"
"Would you take it?"
Peter considered. "We have no idea what happens when I get in there. I'm beginning to think the answer is to just do it."
"No," Walter said. "There must be more we can do to make sure you survive. We have to make sure you live, Peter."
"We have to make sure we find a way not to kill billions of people," Peter said.
"I thought, maybe, I would try to get the DizRay machine to work, go back to that day, the day before my Peter died and cure him. Then I would never go over there. But then I thought, your father, he wouldn't find the cure in time. I would have to let you die," Walter said.
"Your Peter would be alive," Peter said. "You don't know my father wouldn't find it eventually."
"He wouldn't," Walter said. "I can't let you die. I can't let you die."
"We're going around in circles," Peter said. "Do you really think your DizRay machine would travel back in time?"
"I do," Walter said. "Maybe we could go back and ask the First People how we should do it?"
"Assuming they exist," Peter said. "Now, solutions for the next two weeks."
"I have nothing," Walter said, almost weeping.
"Walter, you're smarter than this. You're capable of this. Maybe you should try the LSD."
"Don't you think I already have?" Walter touched the machine and nothing happened. Peter stepped back so he wasn't tempted.
"Walter, stop," Peter said. "We need to find a way and we should find it soon. If I don't get in the machine on this side, I'm pretty sure I'm going to get dragged against my will at some point and into the machine on the other side. So stop. We've gone over this. Assume you made the machine. Assume that it was you. Would you build a weapon? Probably not. You would build something that could save us all. That's what you would do."
Walter sniffled. "The question is how do you heal the decay." Walter tugged at his cardigan. He said, "Let's not think about the power and assume that at some point I will solve the problem. If I had power at my hands, how would I heal this breach?"
"Yes, how would you do it? If we work this out, then I memorize it, how to think about it, the steps to take, even when I'm on the other side, I'll still have it," Peter said.
"You assume they are going to take you," Walter said.
"Pretty much," Peter said. "So we have time now to do this."
"And make sure you come out alive," Walter said. "If I made this thing, I would never make it so you had to die."
"Great, but that's our second priority. First is, how do you knit things back together?"
"Knit," Walter said. "Knit, what an excellent way to visualize."
To Peter's infinite relief, it worked. They got to work.
!
It was Sunday morning and Peter had for once slept well. Olivia watched him for a few minutes, just appreciating that she had him. He woke slowly and smiled at her. She said, "You really think your father is going to kidnap you?"
"What a wonderful way to start the day," Peter said. "Yes."
"Why don't we try to stop him? Why do you just assume it will happen?"
"He had a shapeshifter in the US Senate and high up in Massive Dynamic. Do you think he can't get to me? Of course he can. I'd rather not see you killed because -" He stopped and sat up. "Can we have coffee while we argue about this?"
He got out of the bed and went into the kitchen. She followed him while he started making them both lattes. Lincoln and Asher had actually bought them a very expensive espresso machine as a housewarming gift. Olivia had wanted to give it back but Peter thought it would be awkward and ultimately silly. They'd have the opportunity to pay them back with a nice gift, he'd said. She said, "I wouldn't get killed."
"You hope you wouldn't get killed. You versus ten shapeshifters, how do you think that turns out? You versus twenty. He can throw everything at this operation, it's his endgame, Olivia." Peter twisted hard at the knobs. He made a great latte, usually. Of course, he'd worked as a barista.
"I see what you're saying, but I just, I don't want to give up on you. It feels like you're giving up," Olivia said.
"Do you think Dr. Felton is going to talk me out of this? This is cold hard logic speaking, not mental illness. What do you think he's going to do?" Peter handed her her latte in her favorite mug.
She had a favorite mug now. Because Peter had given it to her, had bought it for her on one of their New York City trips. She sipped her latte. She said, "I know. But I want to do something, not sit around and watch."
"When it happens, it will probably be easier to get me back than to try to stop it. We have something they don't, we have you," Peter said. He stepped closer and touched her cheek. She leaned into his hand.
"So I should try to get my cortexiphan powers working instead of worrying about you?"
Peter kissed her. He said, "Can you do both? Maybe after we have happy Sunday morning sex?"
"Sure," she said. "I got you a gift." She went into the bathroom in what had been her room, showered and pulled out her gift.
As she walked in, he was saying, "I honestly was mostly joking about the tentacle dildo, so if you got me one -" Then he saw her and smiled. "Agent Dunham, are those thigh high stockings? That is really very sweet." He was already holding his dick. "So sweet."
She got on the bed and then on her knees. "These are not as comfortable as they look, so we're saving them for special occasions."
"You do love me," Peter said. He pulled her to him. She ended up sitting with her legs bent and spread, black lacy bookends on either side of his chest. He kissed her and had his hand between her legs fast.
She didn't love the stupid hose at all, but she was definitely turned on by how turned on Peter was. It was slow, sweet, tender, realy hot sex. She nearly came a third time when they were done and Peter unrolled the silly hose off her leg. "I love your hands," she murmured.
"I love all of you," he said.