ASTRID knocked repeatedly on the Walter's hotel room door. It was eleven in the morning. She was worried about him. When she got no answer, knowing Walter was in there, she started calling out his name.
-Walter? It's me, Asteroid, or whatever you call me these days! Walter, please, open the door! You can't torture yourself like this. I know you're in there.
Nothing.
-I brought you some pie and your favorite milkshake-she tried to bribe him.
Seconds later, the door opened and Astrid, relieved, practically ran into the room.
It was smelly and dirty and Walter was aimlessly walking around in an unfastened dark red bathrobe, oblivious to his surroundings... He was muttering something under his breath and occasionally he would write some sentences down in a greased paper notebook which was on the table.
-Walter-she tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder.
-Oh. Afro. When did you get here?
-Just now. You opened the door for me. Do you not remember that?
-No, but that's excellent news.
-What are those?
-Some… Calculations for readjusting the debigulator. I am really hoping they might work and…
-Debigu-what?
-Peter calls the shrinking ray machine the… Because of the Simpsons episode, you see… Ha! And he thought I didn't know about the show… Ha, I showed him! You see, I was locked up a year after it started being broadcast… The debigulator… Ha, ha! So funny, my boy!-Walter's hysterical laugh and an attempt to recreate his son's presence failed miserably since he started wailing like a baby seconds later, thinking about how he might never hear his son's jokes again.
-I can't help him, Aspen! I can't do anything! I can only wait for the agent Francis to find him! I hope it's not gonna be too late.
-Walter…-Astrid hugged him firmly, feeling so sorry for him, not knowing how to console him. She decided to start by bringing some order into his surroundings. -Did you eat anything at all?
-I was busy doing those important calculations.
-I brought you the rhubarb pie I made and I picked up a milkshake along the way.
-That's nice, dear.
Astrid strode over to the improvised kitchen and wrinkled her nose in disgust.
-Walter! All the dishes are dirty and your entire room stinks.
-I haven't noticed that.
She opened the window and started cleaning up around his room.
-You might wanna put something on and shave-she added.
-Oh. Oh! Yes, indeed. I am sorry for having embarrassed you.
-Walter… I'm not telling you this because of me, but because of you. You need to look after yourself. Peter has been gone for only 24 hours and look at you. You already look awful. I am really concerned for you.
-I can't think about anything else. I keep imagining that his body will appear mutilated or diminished or that God knows what might happen to him.
-He is with Olivia. The two of them make a good team. They will be careful. Besides, Walter, everything will be fine. We know more or less where they are, they are under a cabin in the nearby woodlands area, which is more than you can say for most of the abductees. Agent Francis's team will find them in no time.
Walter nodded and wiped a tear from his face.
-How is the girl?
-Diane Underwood?-Astrid whispered.
-Yes-he looked at her eagerly and expectantly.
Maybe she'll pull through. It would give me hope for Olivia and Peter, even if I don't manage to find the way to rewire the machine.
-She passed away two hours ago.
-I am sorry to hear that-he sighed but looked as if he'd expected it.
-Charlie told me-Astrid added, cutting slices of rhubarb pie and placing onto the plates for them both. –I was in the lab since 7 in the morning, browsing through the archives with him. Then I remembered you're at the hotel alone and I thought I might take a break, drive past your room and that we could have late breakfast together.
Walter nodded gratefully.
-What did you two discover?
-Well, I did give Agent Francis the map of the unsearched area according to the descriptions of Trevor Davenport, just like Broyles agreed we should do. However, Mr. Davenport isn't fully cooperating. He is devastated.
-That… Is understandable. It is a grim fate. That which had befallen his ex bride-to-be.
Astrid casted her eyes downwards thinking about Peter and Olivia and then she went on.
-So Agent Francis is leading the search again this morning. The woods are huge, though. They don't have that many men. There are eight cottages in that area and the distance between them is ten kilometers or more… The terrain is uneven, with slippery slopes and thick wood… But Agent Francis thinks the cottage where Peter and Olivia are has to be not so far from the main road so they'll check the four of them which aren't that deep in the woods first... Lamentably, he isn't sure if they'll have time to see them all today…-Astrid sighed. –They advance relatively slowly. And none of them is owned by the people on the ex-students' list. Maybe the students' list was a false trail after all. When we finish eating, I'm gonna go back to the lab and see if I missed something, just in case, you know, double-check. Will you come with me?
-I… Yes. Yes, I will-Walter nodded. –We have to locate the cabin Mr. Davenport was talking about. Also, I can focus better when I'm in the lab. I have to find the way to rewire the debigulator. You know, if we find Peter and Olivia and one of them is zapped, we'll have to treat them in less than 24 hours or they'll explode like those two nice young girls.
-Mary Green and Diane Underwood?
-Oh, yes.
-Let's eat quickly then, Walter. I'll drive you there and you can start working on it while I look for any connections between the cabin owners and campus students.
OLIVIA stood in the kitchen washing the dishes, feeling rather silly as she was going through the occurrences of that day, their second day in the Dollhouse.
They were woken by the unsub around ten, then they went to the Dollhouse, as Peter predicted they would.
The day started out normally… It was apparently a "white" day, unlike yesterday, and the unsub told them to pick out white clothes from their wardrobes… Peter took it quite literally and picked out white shirt, white flannel pants and white shoes, this time looking for his number among the ones that were there, and Olivia, wanting to please the unsub, picked out a cotton white dress and a white hat.
Then they had omelet and orange juice for breakfast at the same table they had dined at the night before, in the garden. It would have been a pleasant morning overall hadn't they been abducted and held there against their will. Peter was his usual quirky, witty self and Olivia caught herself laughing at his jokes every now and then. His leg didn't hurt anymore.
The unsub wasn't immune to Peter's charm either and he kept saying they were the best toys he ever had, repeating the yesterday's phrase.
Secretly observing Peter as he was reading the newspaper of the day-Olivia was wondering where the unsub got those from-as he was frowning and scratching his stubble every now and then, occasionally looking up from the articles he was reading, only to smile or wink at her, Olivia suddenly asked herself if that was what it was like to be married.
After breakfast, they got their "male and female traditional roles" as Peter would call them, Olivia thought.
He had to clean the garden, pluck out the weed that nested among the grass and repair a washing machine-Olivia was surprised when she discovered Peter actually knew how to do it.
Olivia had to clean an entire house, the bathroom, kitchen, the living room and the room upstairs and to prepare lunch for both of them. She clearly recalled opening the fridge and opting for spaghetti Bolognese because that was the easiest thing to do. Lamentably, the sauce didn't turn out exactly as she planned and Olivia laughed, standing alone at the kitchen sink, recalling Peter's wary face as he was trying her spaghetti for the first time and the way he winced after having eaten some.
The man is an incredible actor, I have to hand it to him. He ate an entire bowl and he even repeated the meal, although it was obvious the food was disgusting. Even I almost vomited after having tried them and I ate only several spoons. Good thing the unsub praised me for eating so little because in his opinion "it showed I cared about how I looked like" and it was good I didn't want to get fat…
The only problem with their daily schedule was that the unsub wasn't too talkative. He spoke a lot less than the day before, mostly leaving them to their work. Olivia longed to make a connection with him but he simply wouldn't open up, not even to Peter.
Maybe he concluded that his yesterday's opening up was a slip-up so he firmly decided not to repeat it today.
At least he didn't make us act out an awkward romantic situation like last night-Olivia smiled with relief and placed the last washed and dried plate in its respectful place.
The unsub's voice made her jump and she came out in front of the house to hear his new order better.
Last night we have been at the Dollhouse for only one hour; today, however, we've been here for five and a half hours… Does he find us amusing?
Peter came from around the corner as well and joined her, standing next to Olivia, shirtless and sweaty. Olivia caught herself eyeing his chest, like she already had done twice, instinctively, when visiting his hotel room late at night or early in the morning in order to talk with him and Walter about the case.
Olivia looked away ashamed, before he could notice what she was doing. She cleared her throat, asking him a quiet question:
-What have you been doing?
He whispered back:
-The unsub sent me to the back garden again…I thought he wanted me to clean back there as well but he said I could do that tomorrow… There were some weights back there in the bushes, in the corner… We didn't notice them neither last night nor this morning because we hadn't paid attention to that part of the garden so much… Anyway, to cut the long story short, he told me to do some weightlifting while you washed the dishes. That's why I'm all covered in sweat. Yuck-Peter stated.
-YOU WERE BOTH EXCELLENT TODAY. I AM GIVING YOU SOME REST NOW, DOLLS. GO UPSTAIRS AND CHANGE INTO YOUR BATHING SUITS; THEN SWIM TOGETHER IN A POOL FOR THIRTY MINUTES. LATER YOU MAY RETIRE TO YOUR QUARTERS.
-You know, this is a very classy life we're living, Dunham-Peter muttered into Olivia's ear and smiled vaguely having felt her shiver a bit. -Jacuzzi time. Chillax, it can't be that bad. You mastered the sensory deprivation tank, didn't you, Dunham? This should be a piece of cake for you now.
-Peter. We need to make him tell us something about himself.
-Okey dokey, Mayor Hokey. Leave it to me, boss.
-Fine. I hope you know what you are doing.
-Olivia. Just… Trust me.
Peter had to change into white swimming briefs he found in a wardrobe. He spent almost ten minutes desperately looking for something else, not really feeling comfortable at the thought of standing in front of Olivia in nothing but the tight briefs, but that was the only thing he could find.
Hooray. It's the white day today.
-Sorry you had to wait for so long, I was looking for…
His jaw literally dropped as he saw Olivia standing by the pool, looking rather nervous, red in face and…Wearing a pristine white and slightly transparent monokini which clung to her like second skin, revealing her ideal curvaceous build.
Peter ogled her shamelessly before he could stop himself, from that thin, perfect swanlike neck to that long tanned never-ending pair of legs, pausing at her beautiful, big, soft breasts that rested on his arm unawaredly last night preventing him from falling asleep. Olivia looked like a top-model and Peter could freely claim that without exaggerating.
Holy… Just what the doctor ordered. I always wondered what she was like beneath those plain shirts and weird manly coats. And I got more than I could ever hope for.
What Peter had seen was pretty much enough to immediately cause an unpleasant strain in his briefs, so he quickly averted his eyes for a moment, staring at the rippling water.
He began reciting the Fibonacci sequence he had recently learnt from Walter. It didn't really help so he started doing it backwards, from larger numbers towards the smaller ones. Olivia's image was burning behind his eyelids, forever etched into his brain, turning it into mush.
He coughed and managed to mutter the previously by-heart learnt sentence that she looked lovely and Olivia thanked him lamely, almost immediately jumping into the water, shying away from Peter.
He sat at the edge of the swimming pool, with his eyes glued on her gorgeous, well-built mermaid-like body that swam expertly in circles in front of him, silently admiring Olivia.
She is perfect in every way. Beautiful, smart, strong. I… I want Olivia. Oh, God, I want her so much. Like I never wanted any woman before her.
He closed his eyes right after that thought formed in his mind so strongly, so clearly.
Bummer.
It was an inevitable confession, one Peter was ignoring for way too long, perhaps even since the night of her birthday, when they were sitting on the bench and he yearned to kiss her.
Maybe the last week's situation was unpleasant for him, while Walter was constantly telling Olivia how worried he was about her, but now he couldn't deny the truth. Walter was right. He cared about Olivia. In every way. As a friend, as a partner and as a lover.
There is just this tiny little problem. She can never find out about that last part.
After ten minutes or so she came to him, swimming, but she didn't get out of the water. Olivia simply held on to the edge of the pool, casting a glance upwards at him.
Peter thought he had a pretty good idea as to why she opted not to come out of the swimming pool.
That monokini was transparent even before she started swimming… If she came out now, all wet, it would seem as if she were wearing nothing at all.
And there it was, that straining between his legs again, the one he was trying to hide so much.
This is ridiculous.
The mere thoughts of wet droplets on Olivia's skin were driving him insane, constructing situations in which he would tenderly dry her entire body with his own mouth, kissing her everywhere…
Peter opted for a Turkish sitting position and placed his hands in his lap in order to hide his discomfort.
-YOU AREN'T GOING TO SWIM, KEN?
-I… I'm a dry land lover…-he lied.
-TELL US A STORY, THEN.
-A… A story?
-YES.
-I…Fine…-his eyes fell onto Olivia's heart-shaped face and he smiled to her. Peter sensed this was a good way to distract himself from his boss's hot body and to complete the daily task Olivia had placed before him–I will tell you a short story my mother used to tell me before I went to bed. You see, she is from Greece so, apart from the fairytales we all know and love, she would tell me some excerpts from Greek mythology. One I remember in particular, in which I enjoyed, was the story about the Naiads.
-YOUR MOTHER IS FROM GREECE? HOW EXOTIC. MY PARENTS WERE BOTH LOCALS, SADLY.
Peter and Olivia tensed, catching the use of Past Simple.
Maybe he doesn't have parents anymore.
-Who were they, Ken?-Olivia asked him, feigning interest.
-Why, they were much like you are now, Barbie-Peter grinned, accepting the challenge. -Special little things-Peter smiled. –A beautiful female spirit, a naiad, is one of those water nymphs who presided over fountains, wells, springs, streams, brooks and other bodies of freshwater. A Naiad loves to swim and bathe in the river, just like someone else I know-he directed a knowing smile at Olivia. –So mortals often fell in love with them, entranced by their beauty-he bent down to caress Olivia's sleek wet hair and she trembled a little, after seeing the strange twinkle in his eyes.
-Did Naiads fall in love with humans?
-Yes, they were not immune to mortal charms. Naiads were also very possessive and sometimes quite jealous-they were women after all-he winked at Olivia.
-But how could a human and a naiad be together if he lived on the ground and she resided under water?-Olivia inquired, now truly intrigued with the story, widening her eyes like a child and causing Peter to gulp.
-Well they weren't "together" for a long time if you know what I mean… Only until they sated their… Um..-his gaze dropped onto the water surface again… Carnal needs.
-Oh-she blushed.
-But-Peter hurried to correct himself-there were exceptions. Another interpretation comes to us from the children's literature, Fablehaven. In the series there is a lake in the center of the property where naiads reign. One of the characters tricks one of the naiads to come above land where she is then turned into a human and falls in love with the human who tricked her. They are married but her sister naiads say she is tainted and will not talk to her. They believe humans have such short lives that they are merely play things in which they drown men for the fun of it.
-That is a sad story-Olivia sighed.
-Not at all. You see, the naiad didn't care about what her sister thought, she loved her husband and they got along pretty well. So everybody won in the end. Human got his naiad, naiad got her human, naiad's sisters got their precious gossip material…
-THAT IS A LOVELY STORY INDEED, KEN. AND NOW NAIAD BARBIE SHALL COME ABOVE LAND FOR MORTAL KEN.
Olivia blushed strongly and Peter fidgeted uncomfortably.
Oh, no. Oh, boy. I'm not ready for this, man.
He felt blush creeping up his face as well when Olivia started emerging from the pool. He didn't know where to look. She was already half-way out when she slipped; Peter reacted, quickly reaching for her, grasping her by both arms and pulling her from the pool himself.
-I've got you. It's OK. I've got you-he whispered into her ear.
Olivia stumbled forward and ended up safely cradled in his embrace. The cool touch of her skin made Peter's pulse quicken and he promptly drowned in those green lakes in her eyes, not being able to stop staring at her, to stop feeling her close.
Peter wrapped his hands around her waist without really knowing what he was doing and then he buried his nose into her hair.
-You are just so incredibly beautiful. Do you know that?
Olivia just smiled at him and shrugged slightly, shaking off that last remark of his as a mere act, resting pleasantly and confidently in Peter's warm arms as he tenderly scratched her cheek with his stubble.
-Olivia…-he muttered into her ear. –God, Olivia… You really don't understand what you're doing to me, do you?
-Peter…-she whispered back warily. –Peter…What…
-Feeling you this close is driving me insane…-he interrupted her, muttering and staring at her lips. Olivia could see the desire and surrender in his eyes.
Olivia suddenly felt the need to run away from him as fast as she could, experiencing fear and eager anticipation at the same time as Peter leaned slightly forward and barely, yet tantalizingly touched her lips with his own.
Their hearts thundered unanimously as he brushed his hand softly across her cheek, coaxing her forward, gently and ever so slowly.
When their lips collided, for Olivia it felt as if someone had lit an electric fire in her soul which started to burn with delicious heat. Peter's lips were tenderly teasing hers, not quite daring to deepen the kiss and she instinctively bit gently on his lower lip as if inviting him inside.
That was the end of Peter's self controlling attempts. He devoured her mouth and their tongues touched, first slowly, as they were tentatively tasting each other, and then becoming one molten liquid softness…
Olivia trembled in his arms. Though touched only by Peter's tongue, she could feel him everywhere, as if her body had been invaded by a storm of butterflies.
Peter lost himself in their first kiss. In that first, simple, but all consuming kiss in which the two became one.
She… She is kissing me back…
He couldn't believe his own luck, staring at the soft perfect curves of her blissful smile.
But then, when they pulled apart, Olivia's dreamy facial expression had changed into a frightened one. She couldn't believe how many feelings fit in that one kiss, how much she had shared with him, how vulnerable she suddenly was before Peter Bishop. And before the unsub. She was scared of her reaction and furious at Peter for doing something like that
-Peter, why?-she whispered angrily into his ear sobering him up. –Why the hell…-she stopped talking in mid-sentence and stared somewhere behind his back.
Peter gently released her, grinning like an idiot but slowly realizing something wasn't right.
-John-Olivia said, staring at a tall, fair-haired man who was standing at the house door.
She felt a pang of guilt because of what had just transpired between her and Peter. John's apparition, expelled by her own mind, was probably her own way to tell her that she was wrong, that it was too early for her to love again.
-WHO IS JOHN?
-No one-Peter smiled amicably, hugging Olivia tighter, bringing her closer to himself.
-GO AND STAND BY THE HOUSE DOOR KEN.
Peter did what he was told to do, still giddy from the touch of Olivia's lips, without realizing why the unsub was separating him from Olivia.
She saw John again… Or at least his projection expelled by her brainwaves…
Does it mean she loves him still? Does it mean she's thinking of him often?
Immersed in his own thoughts, Peter didn't realize the dome was being divided in half until several seconds after that happened.
He ran over to the glass barrier, now positively terrified.
Olivia ran over to it as well and they were staring at each other through the glass, with worried expressions on their angsty faces.
-Why? Why did you separate us?
-I NEED TO TEACH BARBIE A LITTLE LESSON, KEN.
-No! Don't! She… She didn't do anything wrong.
-SHE WAS KISSING YOU, KEN, AND MENTIONING THE NAME OF ANOTHER MAN. THAT'S NOT A VERY NICE THING TO DO.
-She… She didn't mean it…
-THAT IS NOT ALL, BARBIE FBI!
Olivia twitched at those words.
-YES. I SAW EXACTLY WHO YOU ARE WHEN I TOOK AWAY YOUR PISTOL AND YOUR BADGE. YOU AREN'T HERE TO PLAY WITH ME; YOU ARE HERE TO STOP ME FROM PLAYING, TO STOP ME FROM HAVING FUN FOREVER! YOUR FRIENDS ARE LOOKING FOR YOU IF THAT'S WHAT YOU WANTED TO KNOW; SKULKING AROUND THE WOODS FOR DAYS, BUT THIS IS MY DOMAIN AND SOON THEY'LL HAVE TO GIVE UP THE SEARCH. MEANWHILE, I COMPLETELY SEALED OFF THE TUNNEL DOWN WHICH YOU CAME FROM; SO THEY WON'T BE ABLE TO COME DOWN THAT WAY. NOW YOU SHALL LEARN WHO THE MASTER OF PUPPETS IS!
Peter winced, half expecting Olivia's arm or leg to be severed, or her body to be diminished… He started banging and scratching on the glass barrier so hard that the blood came out of his nails but to no avail, it wouldn't budge.
Instead of the punishment Peter initially thought would befall Olivia, he could see a blue-yellowish tinge of a great electric charge which was building up inside her half of the dome. The current hit Olivia hard, running through skin, muscles and hair which immediately stood upright at a weird angle. She was screaming and convulsing in pain on the grass.
Peter could clearly see scratches, external burns and bruises forming on her tortured beautiful body; he screamed, he pleaded, but the unsub wouldn't stop electro shocking Olivia until several minutes or so passed
When the glass barrier between them was finally lifted again, Peter ran over to her and took her in his arms. She stared at him as if she didn't know who he was at first, but then recognition dawned on her face.
Peter was relieved she had said his name; however the expression she was wearing while she was looking at him was full of disgust and it pained him to see that she pushed him away and simply dragged herself away slowly toward the pantry door waiting for the unsub to open them.
That he did, several seconds later, without a single comment, and Peter practically ran inside after Olivia.
ASTRID sighed desperately. It was late afternoon already, Walter and she had been at the lab for four hours and she still wasn't able to find any link between the cottages in Boston Woodland area and the list of the people who attended Harvard many years ago.
-Nope. Nothing. I thought I might have overlooked a detail but I didn't. Apparently, none of those men who studied her at Harvard has ever owned a cabin in the woods.
-What about the ladies?
-No… I found that less likely but still… I checked them as well. From eight cottages, two were owned by women but neither of them was on the list of Harvard students. Apparently, those university girls couldn't afford a cottage either. Not when they were so young, at least. But… Wait…
-What is it, Asperger?
-Oh. My. God. This could be it.
-What could?-Walter approached her chewing a baloney sandwich loudly.
-Peter… He said to Olivia the day before yesterday… I was standing right next to them. "There are only 74 student names that match both criteria, the age one and the address one, so we opted for dividing the job. It's not gonna be a piece of cake, though, I can promise you that. Many of them don't even live in Boston anymore and it's especially hard with girls seeing how many of them got married and changed their maiden surnames…" We… We worked very hard on this together, he wanted to redeem for our lunch outing from the other day, remember? So 27 student names were female. We delved and dug deep for their last names, we didn't even find some of them… What if… What if the girl bought a house but with her maiden name?
-Yes. You could look into that-Walter nodded with interest.
-Hang on. So the two owners of the houses are… Number one: Cecilia Graham… Let me see this list… No, neither of these 27 girls are called Cecilia, regardless of what their last name was before they got married or might be now. And… this is our last shot… Here goes… Lucinda Millicent Roberts. Let me see if she…
-Oh, Barbie.
-What did you just say Walter?
-That's Barbie-he reiterated wiping his face and chin from the afternoon snack. Gene mooed loudly. –I shouldn't have eaten this in front of her. She gets all upset when I do that.
-What do you mean? Do you know her?
-Of course I know her bloody well! You know her too!
-I…Um… I'm pretty sure I don't.
-Why it's Lucy! Don't you remember her?
-Lucy as in… Lucy Carmichael?
-Yes!-Walter nodded fervently.
-Ok, I think I need to sit down-Astrid said. –There are simply too many coincidences revolving around or including Caleb Carmichael and we can't possibly ignore them anymore. Olivia and Charlie did interview him two days ago but they didn't get much out of him… Maybe he holds the key to everything-she stopped and stared at Walter. –Walter, why did you call her Barbie?
-Well it's obvious, isn't it?
-Not to me it isn't.
-Her maiden name-Walter started patiently as if he were explaining to a child-was an object of many jokes around the campus. Even we teachers knew about those jokes.
-Why?
-Did you play with dolls when you were a child, Asterix?
-Yes, I had a Barbie doll.
-Peter did too. He had an entire collection of them… We bought him many nice clothes for his favorite Barbie, and a fancy horsie carriage… Come to think of it, the one he liked most actually looked like Agent Dunham a bit. I guess that's destiny…-he grinned.
-Peter played with Barbies?-Astrid almost choked laughing.
-Elizabeth and I encouraged him to try everything out… We were not those traditional parents who used to buy only guns and cars to their sons and made them wear blue… But in the end his favorite toy did become a car, a red Citroen… And he is quite fond of blue color… So I think that must mean he chose to be heterosexual after all…
-Walter-Astrid was desperate to stop his weird digressions.
-Well Peter was a curious child. So he kept asking us what Barbie's last name was, when he was nine years old or so.
-I think I can imagine that-Astrid smiled. –But does a toy actually have a last name?
-This one does! And it's Millicent Roberts.
-Like Lucinda's… I mean… Lucy's last maiden name?
-Yes… And Barbie dolls were popular back then so everybody knew because most girls played with them when they were kids… Not like today, when everyone sits in front of computer screen.
-So let me get this straight… Her nickname was Barbie because of her last name?
-Yes, indeed. Cale's nickname was Ken, though.
-Because he was her long term boyfriend?
-Obviously, Afro. Ah. And because of the initials… K.C… C.C… Ken Carson, Caleb Carmichael, you see? Also, they were a very beautiful couple, they had been together for a long time… She was an incredibly intelligent student, and a really nice girl too… She got a huge scholarship, I remember she was from a very poor family… Cale's parents were rich, though. They didn't approve of their relationship, let alone marriage that followed… Those kids married in 1990, when they were both merely 22 years old… Young love… I supported them wholeheartedly. Sorry to hear they divorced years later… They looked like they were made for each other… Ah… When I remember the years I dated Elizabeth…
-But I don't understand. Why was the cottage on Lucy's name and on her maiden name at that?
-Cale probably bought it to her as a gift while they were still dating. He was pretty rich like I told you.
-Yes… Either that or they bought it together after they got married but they didn't want it linked to the last name Carmichael so they put Lucy's maiden name. I am guessing this because I really don't know how would his parents allow him to buy a cottage for a girlfriend they didn't even like… And being so young… Agent Francis might interrogate Mr. Carmichael again and ask him that… But…-Astrid suddenly stopped talking. -Oh. My. God.
-What is it, Astro?
-Trevor Davenport.
-The young man who was the sole intact survivor of the unsub diminishing and slaughter?
-Yes, him. Don't you remember what he was talking about at the hospital? When he was describing the place they were being held to Broyles and to Agent Francis? The unsub held the people he would kidnap in a construction similar to a dollhouse and he wanted them to behave like…
-Ken and Barbie!-Walter raised his finger into the air.
-Yes, Walter. This would be a third coincidence and it's a little too much now. We… We might not have discovered who the unsub is but I think we know where he is. I am going to call agent Francis and tell him the exact location of the cottage. This has to be the one. It is one of the four they were going to check out today and it is not that far off from the main road. That's where they are kept!
CHARLIE was slightly panting while he was listening to Astrid's tirade over the phone incredulously. He was very tired, since he and his group were combing the woods since eight in the morning almost without a break. They have managed to find two of the four cottages and to search them through thoroughly. However, they found nothing.
-So you're saying Walter Bishop remembered what nicknames Caleb Carmichael and his ex-wife had during their student years and that those nicknames actually were Ken and Barbie?
-Yes!
-And the cottage I'm pointing you towards is on her name. I am positive that is a clue.
-I agree-he glanced on his wrist watch. –It's seven p.m. We still have time. I'll take my team there immediately. That's one of the cottages we still haven't been to. It's pretty far away from this one in which we're now, fifteen kilometers or so… We might not get there before half past ten. We'll try and go as fast as possible. Good job, Agent Farnsworth.
-I wouldn't have been able to do anything if Walter hadn't suddenly remembered late Lucy Carmichael's maiden name.
-Tell doctor I said the same to him, then. We'll keep in touch-Charlie hung up and then called Broyles. After having obtained permission from him to immediately move towards the cottage, he gathered his men.
-All right people, listen up. We are in luck. We won't have to search for all 8 cabins after all. We know exactly where the unsub is holding Peter Bishop and Agent Dunham. But we need to head out there immediately. It's pretty far. I know you are tired and that the dogs are hungry, but their lives depend on our diligence. We'll be there in three hours top. I can't postpone the search until morning. I hope you all understand me when I say we don't have time and that every minute that passes is a minute which brings us closer to a potential loss of two excellent people who are of a great value to the Bureau. Let's move. Turn on the flashlights and follow my lead.
The team murmured in approval and soon twenty or so men disappeared from the clearing they stood on and entered the thicker woods.
FOUR hours passed as Astridand Walter were staring at her cell phone as they were sitting in the lab together, reluctant to go home and desperate to hear the news.
True enough, they would occasionally glance towards an entertaining program on TV or nimble on something (Astrid was partial to cheese crackers while Walter would alternately take a bite of ham and licorice wands), but their minds were really elsewhere. It was nearly 11 p.m.
-What's taking them so long?-Walter jumped up the chair, bellowing.
-Walter, please calm down.
-You told me they would be there at 10 p.m. It's 11 p.m. now.
-Maybe it's difficult to enter in the cottage…
-Well they could just break down the door, couldn't they? Incompetent group of…
-Walter, don't be like that. You know Agent Francis would do everything he can for Peter and Olivia. Remember they are not even on the "surface level"… They are being held under ground. We should be patient because…
The phone rang, startling them both and Astrid ran to it and picked up, putting him on the speakerphone.
-Yes?-she said breathlessly.
-This is Francis.
-Agent Francis! Do you have any news for us?
-The good and the bad. The good news is we got to the cottage around 10.30 p.m. Half an hour or maybe an entire hour before I anticipated, even, because of the darkness and tick trees. We entered it and you were right. This is the one we were looking for. We found the footprints in front of the mantelpiece and the hole below the floorboards.
-And?-Astrid held her breath.
-That's where the bad news begin. My team was prepared to go into the hole… We climbed down with the ropes… The beginning of the tunnel is sealed shut.
-What do you mean "sealed"?
-We can't go through. There is a huge solid steel door right at the end of the hole. It had probably been there since the making of the tunnel and it can be opened and closed at will. We suspect it is controlled with a switch by the unsub. There were cameras on the tunnel wall. He must have seen us coming.
-Oh, no.
-It blew my mind. The fact that there is an entire advanced technology-packed laboratory eight meters below the ground level. Steel doors… Cameras… The hole is very narrow and even if we wanted to bring the door down with a machine we wouldn't be able to bring that kind of machine down here.
-So you… You can't…
-We can't get in through here. We…-he sighed tiredly, defeated. –We need to find another entrance and hope for the best.
-Oh my God, and you were so close…-Astrid felt tears running down her cheeks.
-That's not the worst thing. The worst thing is the unsub saw us. He knows who we are and who we are after. And he has sealed himself inside completely. I don't know what his reaction was when he realized we were on his trail. Is this just another "game" of hide-and-seek to him or is he really angry? I really hope it's the first one, because in the case he's furious, he might harm Peter and Olivia. We have to be very careful from now on.
Astrid listened in silence. The news couldn't have been worse, really. The unsub was aware of the FBI team. And he was mocking them. For all they knew, there could have been an entire maze of those tunnels under the forest floor, and the unsub, who maybe made them, was the only one who could move though them with ease. He knew the area and he had a clear advantage over them. They were at his mercy. And Peter and Olivia even more so.
-One more thing.
-Yes?
-We found an old photo of Caleb Carmichael on a mantelpiece, from which the dust had recently been wiped off. Maybe Peter or Olivia were looking at it. On it, he's holding hands with a girl who is holding a baby in her arms. I am taking it as an evidence and I am heading to town immediately with five of my men. I'm leaving the rest of them behind to spend the night, and I'll send more in the morning to start looking for a way to get in there…I'll probably get to Boston by 1 a.m. I phoned Broyles before I called you and I told him everything. And there is one more bad news.
Astrid simply sighed into the phone and listened on.
-He agreed we should bring Caleb Carmichael in for questioning and that we need to make that lying son of a bitch explain some things to us... He sent the feds to his place… He's on a business trip, his wife said… He's flying in here from L.A. at 7 a.m. She wasn't lying. We checked it. We'll be waiting for him at the airport. But there's actually nothing we could do sooner. -his voice trailed away as he sighed deeply.
Astrid could feel his frustration and his impotence and she felt sorry for him.
He must be feeling awful for not being able to help Olivia.
-How are you?
-I beg your pardon?-his husky, raspy, tired, surprised voice reverberated in Astrid's ear.
-You have been at it since 8 a.m, walking around those woods. You haven't slept at all… You probably didn't eat well either. Are you OK?
-No. I… I'm definitely not. You know, I feel as if this were all my fault.
-Don't say that.
-But it is. I didn't even notice them gone. I didn't even turn around…
-You were doing your job. You thought they were right behind you.
-If something happens to her… And to him… It'll haunt me for as long as I live.
Those were the last words Charlie said to her before he hung up. Astrid turned around, surprised Walter was quiet during an entire conversation with Charlie, only to find his face bathed in tears and his trembling hands buttoning his old coat.
-Walter… Walter, what are you doing?
-I need to go there, Astrid. I need to be near my boy… I know I can't do much to help but I… I can't stand being in here, doing nothing.
-Walter, it's late. We wouldn't be able to get there till 1 a.m. even if we tried. We don't even know the way and in the dark, it gets worse and it's almost impossible to orientate-she tried to hug him protectively, restraining his movements but he pushed her away.
-Let me go, damn it! That's my son in there! And I don't wanna lose him again!
She stared at him without realizing what he meant by that.
He probably doesn't even know what he's saying anymore.
-Walter. I can't let you go there by yourself. Think about it. Even if I came with you, even then, the two of us wouldn't be able to find the place by ourselves… We would get lost…
-I have to… I have to…-he reiterated stubbornly, crying like a little child but he eventually allowed her to take him to the nearest chair and hug him.
Astrid understood how much that meant to Walter and she decided to indeed accompany him there. But they needed to be patient. And they most certainly couldn't go there alone.
-I'll tell you what we'll do. Why don't we wait for agent Francis to come and interrogate Mr. Carmichael? Then we can go back there with him first thing in the morning. He knows the way and we would be safer with the FBI team than if we roamed around alone in the middle of the night.
-You pppp…. Ppromise?-Walter asked through sobs, shivering on a chair.
-I promise. Let me take you to your hotel room now. I'll make us some sandwiches for the road and you can rest until it's time to go.
Walter calmed down a bit and allowed Astrid to take him to her car and drive him to the hotel.
PETER was lying on the cold dusty floor, wrapped up in a single blanket, unable to sleep yet again. It was around 10 p.m. Peter knew the time because he was checking up his watch every now and then. They have been lying in here for the last six hours, each one in their own corner, without speaking to each other.
He was positively freezing. His teeth were chattering. He was cursing his stupidity for the umpteenth time and fighting back the desire to check up on Olivia every five minutes or so. He remembered the ugly bruises on her neck and a scar he saw she had on her face, but judging from the difficulty with which she walked out of the dome Peter assumed Olivia had many more of those on her body.
Peter remembered every detail of her horrible torture; Olivia's fear and impotence to do anything, to run away… Her anger at him, the way she ignored him when they returned to the pantry, how she wordlessly threw one of the blankets to a distant corner of the room and fell on the bed, falling asleep almost immediately, ignoring his worried glances.
Peter understood she blamed him for what had happened and he didn't wish to bother her. He decided to do things at her own pace, to wait for her to wake up and to talk to her then. He needed to explain to her it wasn't his fault, that he wasn't intending to do that at all. But that look… That look she gave him when she was finally able to get up and stagger away from the garden… That look was full of… hatred?-Peter wondered if he really, truly saw it. His heart ached. The thoughts in his brain were running around loose and uncontrolled, like rabid dogs.
Scarred again. My fallen angel. Like a bird left lying on the ground, a bird whose wings were cut off and that which she held most precious was taken from her. Her freedom. The liberty to do what she wants, to go where she wants. To be who she wants to be. A tomboy, a fighter, a savior. Not a pretty little porcelain doll. That motherfucker hurt her. And I… I caused that. Fuck. Fuck this place. What if she never trusts me again?
She moaned in her sleep, then she started coughing hard, and wincing in pain. That did it. Peter jumped up from the floor, not being able to resist his urge.
-Olivia…-he rapidly sat on the edge of the bed looking like hell, while worry was reflected in his eyes.
-Peter…-she whispered his name tiredly and for a moment it seemed as if she reached for his hand. During that split second he hoped she might have forgiven him.
Then Olivia suddenly remembered everything and a look of hatred nested on her face. It hurt him. She simply glared at Peter angrily, eventually turning her back to him.
-Olivia-Peter tried again in spite of her rejection, tentatively touching her shoulder. –How are you feeling? Do you… Do you want some water?-he started towards the small bedside table and filled the glass with the water from the jug.
-No.
-Are you sure? Your… Your lips look dry… You haven't eaten or drank anything since lunchtime. You should preserve your strength… Here… Let me help you sit up and…-he brought the glass closer to her mouth.
-I don't want anything from you.
Those words stabbed him in the heart. He was shocked.
-Olivia… You don't mean that. You…
-I do. Stay away from me, Bishop. Leave me alone. Don't touch me, don't approach me, do not address me. Are we clear?
-Olivia, please…I just want to help you… To make you feel better. We're in this together…-his shoulders shook involuntarily and he realized moist was beginning to form in his eyes.
Am I… Crying? I don't remember when was the last time I…
-Are we? How come I am the only one that received electro shock therapy then?-Olivia sat up but still without acknowledging him, staring into the wall.
For one last time, he tried to bring the glass to her lips. Olivia swiftly grabbed it with a hurt and anger in her eyes, and sent it flying against the wall where it broke into hundreds of pieces.
Peter fell on his knees.
-Don't do this to me, Olivia, I beg you, don't reject me… I care about you… I am so worried I can't think about anything else… I care about you so much, why can't you see that?-Peter grabbed both of her arms desperately forcing her to turn around and face him, and placing his head on her lap as a sign of ultimate devotion.
-You care about me so much that you caused this to happen to me… He tortured me because of what you did, Peter.
-No… No…-Peter repeated feverishly. -I… I didn't mean to…
-Well if that was without meaning to, I am really afraid to think what kind of harm you would cause to me when meaning to do so.
-I would never want to do you harm and you know it-he said, trembling with desperation.
-Do I?-she said despisingly, raising her eyebrow in a mocking way.
That… She didn't not just say that to me. That was so cruel. And unfair.
-Olivia, this isn't you. This isn't who you are… It's all the anger talking from you. But you must understand…
-I don't understand anything anymore, Peter. And I don't want to, to be honest with you.-she said levelly and tiredly, in an indifferent, resigned tone of voice. –And I don't have hope of ever getting out of here. You took it away. You blew the entire case. Now I am just waiting here to die.
-Don't say that. Don't you ever say that!
-There is only so much one person can handle. And I think I… Can't handle anything anymore. I was bound last week, tortured, experimented on… Then the nightmare repeated… And now there's just nothing left inside me anymore, you know? I'm like an empty shell of a person I once was. It's funny that all it took were two weeks for something like that to happen to me.
-You mustn't think like that, Olivia. The way you are feeling now is just temporary. Trust me. You are so strong. You are incredibly strong. You… You are the toughest person I know-he placed his hand on her cheek and that touch was what triggered her rage. Olivia exploded, slapping him hard so hard that he staggered backwards.
-Don't touch me! I told you not to touch me! Leave me alone!-with those words, she turned away from him and stared at the wall once again.
Peter's cheek was burning, but anger and humiliation and worry for Olivia were burning inside him even stronger. He stood up, feeling like a fool, needing to relieve himself of all the poison she poured into him. He kicked the bedside table with such strength that one of the drawers fell off.
Olivia didn't even flinch neither did she turn around.
-Dammit!-he shouted and banged his fist against the wall. –Dammit all… I am a goddamned fool for even caring.-his voice broke at that point and Peter eventually swayed and fell on the blanket in the corner where he was previously lying, while his entire body was convulsing under quiet sobs.
Tears were running down Olivia's cheeks as she was listening to Peter crying on the floor.
She stared at the quiet, smirky John Scott's tall figure which was standing right next to a broken bedside table, looking down at her, and she was wondering how long before she completely lost her mind.