Author's Note: GUYS, OUR SHOW IS OVER FOREVER. ;_;
If I could, I would give each and every one of you a hug and a plate of cookies so we could collectively drown our sorrows in baked goods. Alas, all I can offer are these oneshots.
Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine.
yellow, pt. 1
The world is falling apart.
She failed, he failed, they all failed. And now Earth is crumbling around them.
They sit across from each other in a lab at Massive Dynamic, fingers laced together across a cold, metallic table. The area has been long deserted, as hope for any kind of solution faded with each tick of the clock until they simply ran out of time. Darkness engulfs them, the power shutting down for good a few hours ago. A single, narrow window casts dull gray light into the room.
Walter and Astrid are still in Boston, but phones no longer work, and they couldn't possibly get to Harvard no matter how they tried.
They'll never see either of them again. Her heart breaks.
"Peter," she whispers, for comfort, for no reason other than the fact that she has hardly any moments left to say his name.
"'Livia," he echoes. He tightens his grip on her hands.
They do not need to look outside to know that this is the end. The building shakes. There is a noise that is occurring with increasing frequency. She likens it to thunder, the omen of the final storm, though it doesn't sound similar to thunder at all. It is deeper, louder, makes the hair on her arms stand up straight. It bellows with the promise of destruction.
She had never feared for her life, not really. Even when facing the most dangerous, menacing tasks, a horror of death seldom crossed her mind. She was a soldier who was committed to one thing: honor. Honor to one's task, honor to one's authority, and honor to one's world. Even if that meant sacrificing yourself.
And she knew first-hand that there were fates much worse than death to fret over.
However, as she stares at him now - his blue eyes heavy, tired, and sad - one thought makes itself clear.
I don't want to die.
The ceiling cracks.
"Peter."
She gets from her chair and walks around to him. He extends his arms and she crawls into his lap, pulling her knees up to her chest and tucking her head under his chin.
It's not fair, she decides. She's never had anything as good as this, someone as wonderful, constant, and warm as him. And she doesn't want to give it up.
It's not fair. She loves him and she doesn't want to die and she doesn't want him to die.
His arms cradle her and he smooths her hair with his hand.
"I'm sorry," she says, tears beginning to fall down her face.
"I love you," he responds.
She lets out a quiet whimper, and turns her head to place a kiss on his neck.
"I love you, too."
The earth shakes violently once more. Except this time, it doesn't stop. Two, three, five minutes pass and the ground still moves beneath them.
This is the end. She knows it in her bones. He seems to as well, squeezing her to him more tightly.
"Peter," she cries quietly, her call barely audible above the roar of annihilation around them. But he hears her, pressing his lips to her temple in response.
"I love you so much," he tells her again.
She runs a hand through his hair, tangling her fingers in his short brown locks and pulling his face closer to hers. She kisses him fiercely, for the last time. Then she settles into his embrace, and waits. Waits for pain. Waits for oblivion. Waits to die.
I don't want to die.
She closes her eyes, and in these final moments, she pretends that she doesn't. She envisions that instead of fallen saviors, they had been nobody. They had lived in a suburb of Boston with a couple of kids and a backyard. Or they had lived alone, but together, getting married and living out their years with one another. Or they had traveled the world, or had different jobs, or had met in high school and stayed together.
She pretends that they got a fairy-tale ending.
As pieces of rubble begin to collapse around them, they hug each other closer. She tries to escape her newfound fear of demise by inhaling his scent and feeling his skin and imagining that somehow, the last page of their story was happy.
"I want to know what that feels like."
Suddenly, the world around them falls silent. And she's sure that it's happened. She's sure she has perished.
By some miracle, she can still feel his arms around her, so she keeps her eyes shut and cuddles further into him, waiting for the illusion to fade.
"Olivia."
His awed words bring her out of her reverie.
She opens her eyes reluctantly, expecting him to disappear. He doesn't, though. She tilts her chin up to look at him, but he does not stare back at her. Instead, his eyes are wide as they dart around the room, filled with wonder and trepidation.
"What?" she questions.
It's then she notices that the room is bright. Like sunshine is pouring in through the windows. It is a stark, welcome contrast from the dreariness of the end of everything But how…
"Look," he urges her.
She does. She lifts her head up off his chest. Her eyebrows pull together instantly.
The light. It is shining in through the window.
She questions, "How is that…"
She trails off. And she finally understands.
"Oh."
She sits up and takes Peter's hand, both of them continuing to gaze around the neat lab, tools organized, metallic tabletops polished, a wall made of windows letting the afternoon sun into the room. If she listens closely, she thinks she might be able to hear cars drive by on the busy road below.
Walter had always told them that there were billions of universes, so many more than the two they knew.
It seems she's found a new one.
A/N: I spent a comical amount of time deciding whether to hyphenate "newfound" or leave it as one word.
I may continue this one. Maybe.
