Wolfa Moon, Alison M. DOBELL, bluerock500, and My Golden Glow, thanks for the reviews! As always, much appreciated (^_^) Not much to say today. But I miss Fringe. And I don't own it. Fringe, I mean. I don't own Fringe. And plus, I have an excuse for the couple week hiatus. Sleep Away camp. So don't hate me!

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Chapter 13- You

"Astrid?" he asked. His voice was no more than a week whisper. He cleared his throat and said her name again, stronger.

"Yes," she said, smiling at him. "Hello, Peter."

"How do you know my name?" he asked. She smirked.

"I'm nosy," she replied. "You want my help."

"That would be appreciated," he said without thinking. He knew this woman. But from where?

"What's your mission?"

"Excuse me?" he asked, pulling his thoughts back to the present.

"Your mission," she repeated patiently. "Why are you here?"

"I need to know the ingredients in cortexiphan," he said. What the hell? Where had that come from? He hadn't even known that until he said it. He hadn't realized he was saying it, actually. And what was cortexiphan?

"Why do you think I can help?" she asked, a smile playing around the corners of her mouth.

"Because- ah," he started.

"I said you could," piped up the girl.

"You did?" asked Astrid. "Why would you do that?"

"Because you can," she said flatly. "Will you?"

She surveyed the two of them for several moments.

"Yes," she said finally. "I will."

"Thank you," said Peter, relieved. The sooner he got out of this hellhole the better. Wait. How was he going to get out? Where was he getting out to? Where was here? Too many questions, no answers. He hated Walter for this.

Walter! His father. Insane. A scientist. Olivia made Peter get him out. Olivia, he remembered her too. FBI agent. She had been treated with cortexiphan! That was why he had to find the ingredients. It all made sense! But already, he could feel it slipping away.

No, he thought, willing himself to remember. No.

He could hear Astrid talking he pulled himself back to reality.

"Wait. Come again," he said. She smirked.

"I said," she enunciated. "That I'll show you what you need to know. But after that, you have to figure to how to get back."

"What? Figure out how to get back?" he asked, confused. "I thought as soon as I got the answer, I would just... wake up."

"Not quite," she said. "You have to get back yourself. It won't be easy."

"Just me?"

"She can help you," said Astrid. The girl clapped her hands in delight. "But it's up to you."

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"Astrid?" asked Olivia numbly. Why did it have to be Astrid? Out of all the people in the world, why did it have to be her? Out of the four of them on the Fringe division, Astrid had always been the pure one. The clean, untouched one. Why did that have to be changed? Astrid was the ideal for all of them.

"Yes. Is she in the lab?" asked Nina.

"Why?"

"I'll just go with you."

Olivia regarded her suspiciously. She didn't want Nina in the lab. She didn't want him to see her Peter like this. She didn't trust the older woman at all, especially not around an unconscious, drugged Peter. And now, knowing about Astrid... the basis of her world was crumbling. Peter's arm's weren't even there to hold her through it.

"That's my price," said Nina. "Take it or leave it."

"Alright," sighed Olivia, in defeat. "All right."

Nina stood up, pulling on her jacket.

"I'll get a car," she said. In under five minutes, a limo was at the door.

"A limo?" asked Olivia incredulously.

"It does the job," smirked Nina.

"Sure," said Olivia, rolling her eyes.

But like Nina said, it did the job. In 5 minutes, they were back at Harvard.

"Walter? Astrid?" called Olivia, striding into the lab, Nina hurrying close behind.

"Hang on one minute," yelled Astrid up at them. She was bent over Peter, sweat dripping down her brow. Olivia's heart skipped a few beats. She rushed towards them.

"What's wrong?" she asked. Astrid stepped back and Olivia saw the problem. Peter was gone. Partly. Not gone as in, he had holes. Gone as in he was missing his hand on one arm and his forearm an the other. He had lost both his feet and ankles. Just disappeared.

"Holy crap," she whispered, then louder she asked, "What do we do?"

"Nothing," said Walter calmly. As Astrid had worked, he had sat. And eaten chicken. "He must wake up first. It's greatly a mental process."

"What if he doesn't wake up in time?" Olivia screeched at him. For a second, fear creased the scientist's brow.

"There is nothing we can do," he whispered, dropping the chicken on the floor and rocking back and forth.

"Then wake him up!" she yelled.

"I can't, goddamnit!" he yelled back. A tear found its way down his nose.

"It... it's okay. Both of you," said Astrid. "It's going to be okay."

"What... what's wrong with Peter?" asked Nina, shaken.

"He knows what Bell used to make cortexiphan. We need to know the ingredients, to help Olivia. He's going back. It's not a memory, it's a fact existing without a memory."

"How is that possible?" asked Nina.

"He's missing a period of some years in his mind. Not that he forgot it, somehow, it's just not there. We also believe that he may be able to learn why he doesn't remember this. Why he has different memories than what happened. But anyways, the tank is used for memories. This machine is entirely different."

"The ingredients for cortexiphan?" she asked, regaining her composure. "I know those."

"What?" asked Olivia, then finally remembered what they were doing there. She glared at Nina. God. She hated them intensely for a moment. Nina, and Bell, and even Walter. For what they done to her. What they had done to Astrid. For what they done to countless other children.

"Astrid, can I talk to you for a moment? In private?" she asked.

"Whatever you need to say, you can say it here," said Astrid determinedly.

"Alright," Olivia agreed, shooting a quick glance at Walter. "But you might want to sit down."

Astrid sat down in the chair by Peter's chair, looking around. She gnawed on her lower lip.

"Ms. Sharpe might want to tell you," said Olivia moving aside. Nina moved up.

"When you were younger, you were treated with a drug manufactured by Massive Dynamics."

"No. No, no," protested Astrid. "That's... that's Olivia. She was given cortexiphan."

"Yes," said Nina. "But you were given a drug too. It's called exphilion. It's almost the opposite of cortexiphan. With suitable training, you could have... physical properties similar to Superman. Minus the flying."

"I don't remember any of this."

"You were administered the drug when you were seven. You went through two months of adjusting, then a year of training. But there was a accident. It was on purpose, I mean. But you were so young, you couldn't have known... suffice it to say, you were deemed a danger to the public. Your memory was erased, your powers were limited. You were released."

"What are you talking about?" she asked. "What... accident?"

"There was a scientist," she explained. "Who was trying to train you. You cared about him, like a father or older brother. But he saw you as a lab rat. One day, he started kicking you. You had refused to do one of his tests because you were tired. He was kicking you and yelling at you, trying to get you to do the task. There was a table, by the wall. You picked it up and threw it at him. It hit his head and, well, you can imagine the mess. You threw it at a speed of 150 miles per hour."

"150 miles per hour," she murmured blankly.

"What do you want with her?" interrupted Olivia. Now she was angry. Astrid had gone pale in the face and was shaking slightly. What gave her the right to do this?

"I want to continue her training," Nina said. "There's a drug that could counteract the one given to halt her skills. I would like to administer that to you and continue your training."

"150 miles per hour," she repeated weakly.

"I'll tell you what you need to know. If you agree," said Nina.

"Is that a threat?" demanded Olivia.

"Of course not," said Nina, more to Astrid than anyone else. "It's an offering. It's up to you."

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This was a long chapter. A lot of dialouge, though. Oh well. How was it? I like anything and everything you have to say. PLEASE! I'll give you a mental cookie. And a Peter Bishop :-) . If you review. My story takes place before the finale, but it does have the whole 'peterisfromanotherreality' concept in it. In case you were confused. Also. If anyone has any idea why my email account isn't receiving any pms or chapter updates or reviews or ANYTHING from here, I'd appreciate it. So. Review!