21 Dreams
Ten : The Dangers Of Being Hopeful
Hope is such a dangerous thing, and yet Olivia knows the news she is about to deliver will only fuel this dangerous thing.
"It was there."
Somehow, even knowing how dangerous it is to hope, she can't help but do so.
"The tulip, Peter. It was there. In my hair. And it's with the rest, and your tear – they're just frozen, Peter. Nothing changes."
It's all a little too much for Peter. He can't get up; Olivia sinks down instead. He's been stuck in limbo for so long that this small possibility of retuning to existence leaves him frozen… just like everything else here. But he has Olivia, his warm guardian.
"I… Olivia, I don't know how this works. I don't know how to use it."
And that's the horrible thing about hope: It drags you down a thousand times faster than quicksand.
"What do you mean, you don't know? Peter, of course you do. Come on."
She is smiling and encouraging him, but he can see the minute it hits her: she folds into herself and her eyes lose a vital glint to them.
"'Livia… I am so sorry, sweetheart." He doesn't know what else to say. She has done everything for him and somehow he can't do what these simple tulips are doing; he can't follow her back. He can't transcend realities.
He can't break free.
"They… they know." He realizes. "They're keeping me here, Olivia."
"The Observers." What's meant to be a question comes out as a flat sentence and somehow she can't even sit straight as she leans into him, letting him support her.
"'Livia, this is how it is. They did something for me – I asked for something too big, and this is the price." He hesitates, but this is the only way he can get Olivia to understand. She needs to know the truth.
"What, Peter? What could possibly be worth your entire life?" She doesn't think such a thing exists; her words express that quite clearly. He takes a moment to gather her hands in his and look her in the eye.
"Yours."
The implications of his revelation send her reeling. Peter's life for her own. Her life for Peter's. Would they never get their happily-ever-after? Is there some sort of universal balance which denied them happiness? Are the Observers just not fond of them?
"'Livia, I can-"
"Explain." Her one-word demand is enough to convince him but it takes him so long to gather his thoughts. She gets up and paces like a caged animal; she feels like a caged animal right now, a pawn in the Observers' grand game plan.
"When I entered the Machine… Olivia, that was a time machine. I can't explain it, but somehow I was sent fifteen years into the future. My God, 'Livia – that wasn't a future. The other world was gone. Ours was dying. Walter was in prison. Walternate was somewhere out there. And you and I… you and I were married." His voice grows so unbelievably tender that she has no qualms accepting this as the truth. She would be lying if she said that it had never crossed her mind: Peter and her.
"We wanted kids, 'Liv. So badly. But the world… it wasn't a good place. And everything was just going to hell. We were slapping on Band-Aids, stitching up wounds to cover up cancer…"
"And then-" He lets out a strangled choke.
"Olivia, you died."
Everyone dies eventually. She knows that. She also knows that her profession of choice has a higher mortality rate than most. But to hear the words… she has never been this still.
"I buried my wife." His voice breaks on the last word. "Olivia, I couldn't – it wasn't right. And then Walter found something. The First People… the first people were us. Well, Walter, to be specific. And Walter had sent those parts back in time. Now Walter could send me – my consciousness – back in time. I could save you, Olivia. I was screwing up the entire balance of both universes, but I could save you."
"You know I had no choice."
It's the sad truth: They are prisoners of love, a force so strong that it leaves irreversible changes in its wake. Peter truly didn't have a choice; she wouldn't have had one, either. It is a matter of self-preservation; above all, keep the one you cannot live without alive.
"Where do the Observers fit in here?"
"Olivia, they're everywhere in this. We messed with their entire scheme." He laughs bitterly. "And this is the price."
"It can't be, Peter," She wants so desperately to keep her tears to herself. "It can't – you and I, we can't end like this. Peter, please."
She reaches out to him and he laces his fingers to hers. It dawns upon him that any night could be their last, and he doesn't want to have any regrets, not this time around.
"I love you, Olivia Dunham."
"I love you, too, Peter Bishop. Now shut up and save it, because you can say it to me when we wake up." A gentle smile softens the blow of her harsh words and together they face the fading moon, dangerously hopeful.
Olivia doesn't know why, but waking up alone on this particular morning is the most painful thing she has ever done in her life.
Her heart can't take any more blows.
It breaks apart into a million tiny shards.
Maybe I should've labeled this as 'angst' instead of 'hurt/comfort'. Oh, well. Hey, we're seriously done with the first half! Oh my God, you guys. I can't believe this. We might actually make it. Another ten hours or so. Remember – I need your support now more than ever.
E Salvatore,
October 2011.