AMY, I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter. Here is a quick update, I believe it will answer some of the questions!


CHAPITRE VIII


"I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears, and sweat." - Winston Churchill

The labs. Hours later.

"I don't understand. Kidnapped means no bodies, how could I help?" Olivia heard Walter muffle as she entered the lab door with Max.

"Walter, they've already sent one of the victims, a female, she was found dead, the body is right behind you. I've already told you that, four minutes ago." Astrid gestured at a dead woman laying on a gurney as she glimpsed Olivia, "Olivia, did you find anything?"

"Nothing, the investigations are still running." Olivia answered, glancing at Walter as he pinned some papers on the big board and put down some documents before he turned his attention back to Astrid.

"Oh," Walter recalled, "Right! I remember when I gave my remarks on the dead women's small breast-"

"Walter! We have guests," Astrid snapped. The scientist squinted at Olivia, serious, Walter quickly greeted, "Hello Agent Dunham! Hello Mr!"

Agent Max smirked, "It's Max, Max Zepplin, It's nice to meet you Dr Bishop," But Walter was already gone; he went searching for something. Probably some tools to start opening the body up.

"He's been like that since Fauxlivia left," Astrid informed, never meeting Olivia's gaze. Fauxlivia.

"What was he doing?" Olivia asked, changing the subject.

"He was looking for some old data on that devise we lost. He said that he'd hided those somewhere safe, years ago. He was a bit unfocused and very sad the whole morning, but when Fauxlivia gave us the information about the virus, he told me that we should be focused like the other side is, and He resumed studying the modifications he needed."

Olivia nodded. At least, Walter had found some motivation after all they had on the devise was gone. Walter is a competent scientist. Olivia trusted him.

"Olivia, Max. There is something important I must show you." Astrid told them, she then stood in front of her laptop, and started pressing some buttons.

"What is it, Astrid?" Max queried, rubbing his eyes. Sleepy?

"The virus, It was a top secret project. The Tree. All information about it is stored in the FBI database. It has been initiated by high experienced engineers. The project has been aborted for unknown reasons. Whoever had stolen it has clearly permitted access to the data, and has to complete programming the virus before being able to use it."

"It must be one of the engineers," Max said.

"Exactly." Astrid agreed, "There is something else. It's practically impossible to send a Virus to the other reality."

Olivia nodded, "Someone is working on both sides." She concluded.

Astrid rose her eyebrows, "Yes, and if it's not the other side, this must be a new threat."

"A threat that can send a virus to the other side, and break into massive Dynamic without problems." Max remarked, "Our enemy must be on a high qualified scale of science, and has great deals of technological assets."

Olivia nodded, clenching her teeth. A third intelligent threat is scary to think about, much less to expect, "Okay, can you check for the last one who had used his credentials to access the data?"

"Already done that," Astrid handed Olivia a small document containing a personal photos and an address. "Charlie Silver, a very famous engineer, he downloaded all the data to his personal computer two days before the other side's computers got infected."

"This must be our mole. Thanks, Astrid!" Olivia grinned, hurrying toward the door. Finally something we can follow. Max followed her, sighing.

Boston streets. 24 hours later.

Peter exhaled anxiously as he stopped pacing around a phone booth; Mr David Mosely finally decided to show up. He'd called him two hours ago, after he'd woken up in his cell, obviously, and had eaten something he hadn't been focused nor impressed to think about before he'd hurriedly walked through the DW, and took a long ride to Boston.

Mosely precipitated toward him, smiling. "Hey! Buddy, welcome back!"

"Well, your greeting would've been more appreciated if you'd just decided to show up a little earlier!" Peter complained.

"Sorry, I was a bit-" The Street was crowded, so, yeah, Mosely looked like a crazy dude yelling at an old phone booth. Shocked, perplexed or amused faces met him. He remained quiet before his mouth tingled again, and he had to continue his complaining, whispering, "-I was a bit busy saving the world while you were, what is it?-Enjoying a siesta in the Watchers' world. How is the hospitality by the way?" He scoffed, moving away as the passengers muttering and quiet chuckles grew annoying.

"Perfect, I'm sure your big mouth would like it." Peter quipped. However, he'd wished that no one, not even his most loathed human-enemies, would ever experience anything near what the Observers are daily putting him through. "So, saving the universe?" He asked, interestingly.

As soon as they arrived to a quiet corner, Mosely grinned far and wide. "Ya, I found our guy! Colonel Raymond," He announced, raising an eyebrow. "You can thank me now or you can wait until we get him out, you choose. Becau-"

"Thanks!" Peter interrupted. Although the word was meant to put Mosely's chatting session on the brakes, Peter had actually meant it. Mosely had just proved to be more useful than he'd first thought. "Okay, then, where is he?" He asked.

"He'd been in a prison I don't care about its name, because they soon moved him out to a mental institution; psychological disorientation of some kind." Mosely informed, taking his full time, loving every bit of it.

A mental institution. St Claires?

"It's called St Claires, the mental institution." Mosely added. Peter clenched his jaw, because, till the moment, everything he would encounter has to remind him of Walter or Olivia, but, St Claires in particular, reminded him of the days of his life he'd wasted away from them. "Okay," He croaked, "Are you sure, I mean, no offense but where did you get all these classified information?" Well, it wasn't like he hadn't treasured Mosely's efforts, but Peter had to ask.

"Nothing, really, just played around a bit with some unfortunate people."

Peter tensed, "Unfortunate people?" He blurted.

"Yeah, well, I probed their mind a little harshly," Mosely added. Was he saying what I don't hope, but think he's saying?

"I used a mind reading devise. We've invented it years ago, it's pretty much useful than any torture machine I've ever seen!" Yeah…

"FUCK! ARE YOU CRAZY?"

Peter couldn't believe he was somehow responsible of the torment those 'unfortunate people' had gone through, especially when he knew what it felt like to be subjected to that cursing machine. David suddenly seemed like his brother, only, it sounded as if he found nothing wrong about the whole torturing stuff.

"What? What is it? You're badly overreacting, you know that? I admit it's painful, yeah, but, don't worry, I'll never use it on you, so, you'll never know how it feels like." Mosely chuckled.

Peter was about to scream "I'VE ALREADY BEEN THERE, YOU STUPID!" but he managed to swallow it back somehow, "YOU STUPID!" He yelled.

"What? It's not like it kills them or anything! Don't worry I can't bring myself to hurt people; it's why we don't kill. Except, of course, for the murderer of my brother," He grumbled. Peter's pulse edged at Mosely's next words, "Oh, I almost forgot, You know, I did my investigations on the killer too, he works with the FBI, some Agents investigating bizarre cases, a small group, actually, so I should be able to identify him in a couple of days."

Oh My God. Peter stood still. He couldn't grasp what was happening. Mosely was near to finding Olivia. Mosely would kill Olivia. Peter knew he cannot allow that to happen. Peter also believed that there is always another way, "I did it." He lied.

"What?" Mosely queried.

"I killed him, your brother." Peter swallowed hard, "I shot him. I work with the FBI, He abducted me, three years ago. He torture-" It's called out of the blue. Peter hadn't't seen it coming, but he'd felt Mosely's fist as it connected with his cheekbone.

"Shit! What have you done," Peter protested, as kind as he could offer. "Oh, no!" He frowned as his nose resumed bleeding. And, it meant one thing, that thing Peter had been afraid of when he'd complained right after Mosely had hit him; The Dissipation Window was doing its job. He remembred January's warning. Small reactions, like a nose bleed… Peter didn't have to wait long before he'd started to disappear. Mosely just stormed away.

Had he done the right thing? Peter hoped so.

Observers home world. Peter's cell.

"I stumbled and fell on my way back." Peter groaned, answering September's little interrogation.

September didn't react. He gazed Peter up and down, bending his head to one side.

Peter's nose had started bleeding minutes ago, so September had pulled him out, using the same technique of course. A second cut on his shoulder blade. When September left, Peter strolled toward the DW. Pain exploded with the slightest movement. He hurried. At least when he'd wander around as a consciousness, he wouldn't feel that much pain.

He was leaving his throbbing body behind. It felt like betrayal in itself.

The second floor of an apartment. Boston.

"Mr Charlie!" Olivia knocked the door twice and waited. Max got bored, so he reached to the lock on the door, shouting, "Mr Ch-" He didn't finish because the door was open.

Olivia shot him an alarming look as she shoved the door backwards.

"It's FBI, Mr Charlie, and we don't have time for a hide and seek fooling around!" Max raved. The agent seemed livid, almost petrified. His fingers fastened tightly around his pistol.

Olivia headed upstairs. The house seemed disturbingly quiet. The apartment's staff had confirmed that Mr Charlie was indoor.

She was about to open the bathroom's door when something clicked behind her. Alarmed, she turned around swiftly, just in time to notice a huge form launching itself on her. She lost balance and they were both smacked onto the ground with a boisterous thud. Her back ached as she twisted her hand free to grab the gun that laid ounces away from her wooly eyes. The attacker gathered himself quickly. She identified him as Mr Charlie Sliver as he lifted his head just in time to reach his hand and stop hers from reaching the weapon. He was quick and strong. She tried to twist free but to no avail. She brought her knee up hastily in a succeeded attempt to thwack his belly, only, he didn't react at all. She tried twice more, but he decided to grab her throat and start squeezing hard. He had no intention of killing her apparently, because she knew he could easily reach for the gun and pull the trigger, full stop. He needed something…

"Who sent you?" He yelled, frantically. Her vision blurred even as she spotted Max putting three bullets in the big man's back. The man loosened his grip, and she shut her eyes shoving blessed air back into her lungs as they screamed in excruciating pain.

Through fading haze, she gazed Max's terrified look as he yelled, "Oh My Goodness, his blood is silver!"

"Shoot him in the head!" She screamed, but it came out as a pained croak. Thankfully, Max heard her just as the shapeshifter stood and begun strolling toward him. The attacker's dead weight dropped to the ground as a bullet penetrated his brain. Olivia twisted away. The mere movement sent her coughing and panting.

"We need to… t-talk to Walternate." She gasped. Walternate had promised to call back his army of shapeshifters a long while ago. He owed them a logic explanation.

Her phone rung, disturbing the instantaneous moment of silence. "Dunham," She answered. Her throat ached and a groan escaped her lips.

"Olivia, are you alright?" Astrid asked.

"Yeah, we found Mr Charlie, he's a shapeshifter." Olivia panted out.

"Oh!" Astrid exclaimed, "Uh... Olivia, Walter says there is something urgent he needs to show you."

"Okay, I'm on my way." Olivia nodded, and ended the call. "Are you ok?" She heard Max quaver.

"I'll be fine, you?"

"I don't think so." He rasped, wiping sweat away from his forehead.

Blue verse. The Lab. Moments later.

"What is it Walter?" Olivia queried as she stopped in front of the dead woman.

Walter put the scalpel he was holding on the nearest table, and grabbed a spoon and a container full of strawberry milkshake.

"Hmm…" He savored a mouthful of the food, and started walking the opposite direction.

"Walter!" Olivia called again. He squinted at her, "Oh! Agent Dunham! How long have you been there?"

"Walter, you said there is something important," She informed.

"Yes! ... Hm... This poor lady has been kidnapped." He grimaced, as if he was trying to focus again, "I found a substance in her blood, it's responsible for memories,"

"Walter, you're not telling me that…?" Olivia's pulse raced.

"Yes, Agent Dunham, it's something they injected her with, they wanted to convince her that she was someone else, much like they did to you on the other side!"

Olivia shut her eyes, inhaled unevenly, and asked, "You think it's what killed her?"

"No, I think the cause of death is a mistake, something they overlooked!" Walter informed, "But, I didn't!" he added, rising his eyebrows, excited. "The hippocampus, the most important part of our body, it is responsible for memories. This lady had an already affected hippocampus."

"She was sick?"

"Alzheimer!" He confirmed, squinting back at the dead woman, a look of sympathy formed on his feature, "Memory treasures identity. Humans live intact or lost, whole or deficient. Torment is the phase in between. It's when one watches the mind drift away, each part splinters into nothingness taking the remains of a shattered heart within." Walter muttered. His words were sharp. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, just before he composed himself and went on explaining, "They were forcing memories on her hippocampus, which was already suffering from a second degree of infection because of the disease, and it originated complications in her brain that caused severe reactions, hence, she died with a heart attack. Poor dear."

Olivia and Max stared at Walter who resumed eating for a moment, before they gazed at each other, "Walternate." Olivia muttered.

Grave. Boston.

Mosely sat on a rock beside his brother's grave. Peter took a few steps forward, quietly.

He'd been trying to contact him for a long while now. Mosely wouldn't answer any of his calls. So, after giving it some thought, Peter figured this was the plausible place David would choose to be around. "Hm… Hey!" He tried, "Look, I… Uh... I know I should've told you sooner... I understand how you must be feeling, I really do..."

"Go to hell," Mosely muttered, crossing his fingers and circling his thumbs around each other in obvious sign of nervousness.

Peter inhaled, tensely, "It was a Fringe case... You said that killing people is forbidden among your laws-"

"-You believe this stupid talk would save you from me?" Mosely cut him short. He then stood up and hobbled toward him.

Peter remained neutral. "No, this stupid talk was meant to tell you that your brother had committed a double homicide before he'd came around to Boston killing and torturing people. Yes, I should have told you that, but it doesn't mean I would regret what I had to do, I was protecting myself."

Mosely braked, two feet away from Peter, frantically breathing. He knocked his brow and blinked furiously at Peter's words. His eyes alone displayed downright shock and momentary disbelief. "BULLSHIT!" He yelled, grabbing Peter from the collar of his shirt. "My brother was an honorable man! Don't you fucking speak about him this way!" Mosely yanked him twice before he shoved him back free. Peter hung about gazing the fuming man as he made his way back to his brother's grave, kicking tiny rocks and sheer earth out of the way.

"He was searching for the cylinder," Peter begun, "He killed innocent people. The homicides have been committed in Seattle, I'm certain you can make sure of it yourself." This time, Mosely didn't react. He kept staring somewhere, and, from the look on his eyes, Peter could tell that he was confused. So, Peter decided to try again, "You have no idea how it feels like to have two wires inserted up your nose while innumerable excruciating waves of electricity burn out your brain nerves over and over."

Mosely shot him a quick glance, but didn't respond. So far so good, "You said you can't bring yourself to hurt people. Well, excuse me but I think you people do that in more than one way." He bellowed, taking more steps forward, "I mean who gave you the right to treat people that way?"

Mosely, the blabbermouth; had just proved he could keep quiet for more than two minutes. Peter was getting tired of wasting more time, justifying why is it that an assassin like John Mosely had to die three years ago."Listen," He sighed, "All of this doesn't matter now. You can-"

"-Is it true that my brother had dared to end someone's life?" Mosely cut him short. The question surprised Peter. Mosely seemed utterly shocked by his brother's acts, but he hadn't been letting a lot of it to show on his face, until now.

"More than one, yes." Peter replied, rising his eyebrows.

"They won't let me avenge him in that case." Mosely muttered, quietly, "He is a sinner."

Peter let a breath he never thought he was holding, "Okay, so what… have you decided?"

"Shut up!" Mosely yelled. He stood up hastily, "When this is all over, you're gonna pay for this, I promise." He rasped out, rising a finger toward Peter's direction.

"Well, if I'm still around and breathing by then, feel free to do whatever you want." Peter suggested, "Okay, let's do this!"

"Fine, I brought my stunner. And, don't worry it doesn't hurt,"

"Good. So, we storm in, we get Gordon, we get out." Peter spluttered.

Mosely nodded, "Let's go!"

TBC...


I apologize for the slow developping of the Fringe team story, I had to include many details that I promise will be needed in the future and because, at some point, there will be some interactions with Peter's storyline. So I hope it wasn't boring, and that you're enjoying it. Plz review.