Five days later, Olivia walked into the lab. It was early—too early—and the newly risen sun filtered feebly through the upper windows of the lab. Even Gene was still asleep, big head drooping with her eyes closed. Her spotted body shuddered slightly at the sound of the door closing and her ear twitched, but her sleep continued despite the disturbance. For a moment, Olivia was jealous of her ability to sleep so deeply. Then, disturbed by the realization that she was feeling jealous of a cow, she shook her head.

Peter was right. She did need to get more sleep.

Unfortunately, his attempt to get her to get some "real sleep in her own bed" yesterday had turned out to be unsuccessful. She puttered around her house for a while, done her best to act normal when her sister called, and tried to convince herself to turn off her worried brain and just rest. But it was no use. After dozing in and out of sleep, tossing and turning for hours, she'd finally given up, figuring she might as well return to the lab. Everyone else was there anyway.

To her surprise, Walter was already—or still—up when she arrived. He was leaning over a counter, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper while a mouse scurried around the cage at his right ear. He hesitated, pen hovering waveringly over the paper. Suddenly, his face contorted into an expression of frustration and he tossed the pen at the the cage. The pen ricocheted off the glass with a loud ping, startling the mouse inside and causing it to squeak loudly in protest. "Is that really necessary?" he snapped at the animal.

Olivia took another hesitant step into the lab, pulling her gray scarf off her neck. "Walter?"

Walter's head whipped around and his anxious eyes met hers. "Oh, Olivia! When did you get home?"

"Just now..." She glanced around the lab, noting the crumpled pieces of paper strewn here and there, littering the counters and spilling out of the garbage. They all contained scribbles of formulae and words that she couldn't quite make out—but they were all crumpled. She fixed an uneasy smile on her face. "Any luck here?"

Walter's face crumpled like the papers on the counters and his shoulders slumped. "I'm afraid not. And I'm rapidly coming to the realization that I'm unable to even recollect all the things that I need forthe synergetic solution either. There's something—several somethings—that I'm forgetting, I know it! Something important! But the more I try to think of what I'm forgetting, the more it slips away! And these dratted mice... Won't. Be. Quiet," he growled, glaring at the creature as he flicked its cage. The mouse continued to squeak loudly and run in a circle, exciting several of its neighbors into similar hysteria.

Olivia frowned at the mice before turning her gaze back to the scientist. "You'll figure it out, Walter. Maybe you're just trying too hard," she tried to reassure him, but he continued to look despondent and she frowned. She scrunched her scarf in her hands, shifting her feet as she tried to think of something else to say. How could she comfort him? The last thing they needed was for Walter to break down again. "There's still time," she finally said.

"Perhaps," he said with a lackluster shrug.

He glanced over his shoulder, and she felt her throat tighten as she tried to follow his gaze. "What?"

Reluctantly, he turned back to her, features heavy. "I'm not so sure we do have time."

"What do you mean?" she asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion even as she smiled reassuringly. "Of course we do… We still have two days for you to find another solution, and even if you don't, Peter said—"

"Yes, I know what Peter said," Walter interrupted. He glanced over his shoulder again before turning to her anxiously and dropping his voice to a whisper. "But, Olivia… he's having second thoughts about staying."

Olivia felt as though the air had been knocked out of her. "Did he tell you that?"

"No, of course not. But he doesn't have to. I know it."

She met his tortured gaze unwaveringly, seeing the truth in his eyes, but she shook her head and forced herself to smile. He had to be wrong. "Walter... you're tired. You're under a lot of stress. Isn't it possible you're just imagining it, because that's what you're afraid he's thinking?"

He continued to look at her for a moment before turning his gaze down to the piece of paper on the counter. "Yes… yes, I'm sure you're right." But he didn't look convinced, and as Olivia swallowed she felt the seed of doubt plant itself in her own stomach as well. Peter had been quieter than usual, she'd admit, but she'd thought they were out of danger in terms of him leaving. He couldn't possibly blame Walter now, after finding out the truth. Could he? Maybe before he'd found out the whole story… Even she'd blamed Walter then. With a twinge of guilt, she studied the scientist as he crumpled the piece of paper and got a fresh one, staring at it blankly.

"Walter… I'm sorry," she said after a moment.

His eyes widened in surprise as he turned back to her. "For what?"

"Before Peter told me the whole story, I just assumed that you had…" She hesitated, shrugging uncomfortably. "You know…"

Expression turning grave, he looked at her steadily. "You thought that I had built the portal, with the intention of taking him for myself from the start. You thought I had stolen him from his family on purpose." He studied her bleakly. "Didn't you?"

She sighed, dropping her hands to her sides. The scarf dangled, one end dragging on the floor. "Yeah. I did," she admitted. "And I'm sorry. It wasn't fair of me to…"

But he shook his head and waved a hand to stop her. "It's quite all right," he said with a sorrowful smile. "After discovering what I had done to you as a child during the Cortexiphan trials, I imagine you must have thought me capable of anything. And I think I might have been, from what I remember—capable of anything, I mean. Some of the things I've done, Olivia…" He shook his head, eyes filling with tears as he hesitated. "Do you believe in redemption?"

Olivia wavered. To be honest, she wasn't sure if she did. Some things were just too horrible to make up for, and the only 'redemption' to be found was in bringing the perpetrators to justice. Her step-father could certainly never redeem himself in her eyes. She doubted Hitler could ever make up for what he'd done. But as she looked into Walter's tearful eyes, she found she couldn't voice her doubts. A reassuring smile formed on her face from sorrow more than anything else. "Sure," she finally said.

He immediately relaxed and gave a nod. "I-I'd like to as well. You see, the cases that we work on—the reason I get so involved in them… They haven't been merely cases to me for some time now. If I can help fix my past mistakes, prevent others from making the same mistakes… If I can keep more people from getting hurt… perhaps I can redeem myself. I-In some small way." He smiled at her hopefully. "Thanks to you, I have the opportunity to try, at least."

Olivia returned his smile, touched by his gratitude. She wasn't sure she deserved it, but she was touched just the same. With a twinge of regret, she thought back to her anger at Walter's excitement over the Usamah Webb case. She'd known Walter was in a constant struggle to redeem himself… but with his seemingly misplaced enthusiasm, sometimes it was easy to forget.

After a moment, however, his expression fell again and he absently wrung the pen in his hands. "Olivia… I don't know what I'll do if Peter leaves…"

She rested a hand on his shoulder sympathetically, but didn't know what to say. How could she promise what she wasn't sure of herself? Her reticence didn't seem to matter though, and he offered her a watery smile in thanks. Nodding after a moment, he turned back to the blank piece of paper and gripped the pen.

Suddenly, Astrid's voice echoed through the lab. Olivia dropped her hand back at her side and looked toward the sound. "Walter, I don't think I can find either of those albums!" the younger agent called. She emerged a moment later carrying a faded record in her hand that she immediately handed to him. "Is this the one you meant?"

Walter took the album, frowned at it, then up at Astrid. "Yes?"

"Wait…" Astrid began, looking at him warily. "Are you saying that 'yes, this is the one you wanted' or are you just reading the band name off the cover and wondering if you asked me to get this one?"

Walter's mouth turned downward in a perplexed pout, but he shrugged a moment later with an apologetic smile. "To be honest, I have no idea… but Yes seems as good a band to start with as any, I'd say. Let's go put it on, Astro!"

Olivia raised her eyebrows at Astrid, who shrugged. "We're trying to jog his memory by finding the music he might have been listening to when he figured all this out the first time."

"Ah." Olivia had seen how helpful music had been to Walter in the past. At this point, it was probably their best shot. She gave Walter another reassuring smile and went to go find Peter while Walter and Astrid went to put on the record. Seeing Peter again, she'd be able to put her doubts to rest. She hoped.

************

The little boy heard the door creak and opened his eyes. A man walked in—a shadow of a man—but he couldn't make out who it was. He squinted at the figure in the dark. It was only when the man sat down on the corner of the boy's bed that he thought he recognized the vague outline, and he frowned groggily. "Dad…?"

The man looked at him, and the boy instantly knew something was wrong. He gasped."Wait—no!"

Peter woke with a start. Sitting bolt upright, he blinked around the room, orienting himself. He instantly recognized one of the back rooms of the lab and relaxed, letting his face fall into his hands as he sighed. Not again. That was the third time this week. He was rapidly beginning to miss the days when he couldn't remember the details of that particular nightmare at all, he grumbled to himself as he kicked his blanket aside. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned forward onto his knees and groaned.

He heard some sort of 60s music suddenly echo through the lab. The voices of Walter and Astrid murmured through the walls from the next room over, and he smiled. Even thought he couldn't make out the words, the rhythm of their conversation was familiar. Comforting. But it wasn't enough to wash away the uneasiness from his dream.

He hadn't told Walter that he remembered what the dream was about now. He hadn't told him that every time he looked into Walter's face he would inevitably wonder about the man Walter had dubbed "Walternate." He hadn't told him that, as much as he loved Walter and appreciated what he had done to some extent, the part of him he tried to ignore still felt confused and guilty, betrayed by the secret. Raw. Rubbing a hand over his face, he tried to tell himself to snap out of it. He'd made the decision to stay. He'd promised Olivia... What good would it do to torture himself with what ifs? He'd made his decision. Hadn't he? But the doubts still haunted him.

Soft footsteps came to a stop in front of him, and he looked up to see Olivia standing in the doorway. She looked less rested than he'd hoped for, he thought, a little disappointed that his plan hadn't worked. The shadows under her eyes broke his heart, but the lack of sleep didn't seem to bother her. To be honest, he probably looked worse.

"There you are," she greeted with a warm smile, taking a step into the room.

He met her gaze, but couldn't find a returning smile of his own. Questions still whirled through his groggy mind, and he tried desperately to shove them away. But the process of repressing his doubts took him a second too long, and he saw Olivia's smile falter as she noticed the lag. At last he managed to curve his mouth upward, and she returned the gesture, if a bit uneasily. "What?" she wondered, wary.

He shook his head. "Nothing." As they continued to look at each other, however, her smile faded again and he felt a twinge of remorse for the lie. She knew something was up. There was no use in hiding it at this point. He studied her for a moment, reluctant, weighing how much to say. "It's just…" He didn't know how to begin. So much had been building over the past few days, so much he'd tried to deny and hide.

At last, he sighed. "Olivia… how am I supposed to fight in a war where I don't even know what side I'm supposed to be on? Do we even know why there's a war in the first place?" Her eyes widened in something like horror, but he kept going, speaking more quickly as he silently begged her to hear him out. He knew how this sounded. "No, think about it: I mean, we've seen the soldiers from the other side, but we don't know what they're after. And at this point it seems pretty likely that a lot of the cases we've seen are… someone… trying to make soldiers on this side—that Jones guy, for example, when he tried to 'recruit' you—but we don't know who they are or what they're after either. It's just these two essentially faceless sides—and all these unanswered questions. There's just so much we don't know, and we're just…" He hesitated, waving his hands in the air as he tried to find the right words. "It's like we're the ones caught in between, just… trying to keep people from getting hurt by either side. But, Olivia—how are we supposed to do that when we don't know the whole story?"

Olivia's mouth curved up defensively. "It's not like we haven't been trying to figure that out. You know that."

Taking in the hurt look in her eyes, he felt his stomach sink. This wasn't going at all right. "I know that. I do. I'm just…" He sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his temple to ward off his growing headache. "I'm just confused."

"Are you all right?" she asked, pitch low and worried.

"I'm fine," he said dismissively, not opening his eyes until he felt the cot shift on his left and he knew she was seated next to him. He was suddenly, unnervingly, reminded of his dream, of the shadowy figure at the corner of his bed, all the questions and guilt…

As he opened his eyes and took in her concerned face, however, the feeling immediately faded. The sympathy on her face told him that she understood more than he let on. As usual. He felt his tension fade despite himself.

He saw her hesitate for a moment, but her voice was soft and soothing when she spoke. "Peter… It's not your fault, you know."

Easy for her to say, he thought as he met her eyes. She wasn't the one who had to deal with the fact that Walter had upset the balance of the universes and might have accidentally started this whole war—all to save him. The guilt had already torn his mother apart. Not only that, but for all he knew, his original father could be the one who was the mastermind behind the shape-shifting soldiers, maybe in some sort of crazy attempt at retribution for the loss of his son. If Walternate was anything like the Walter on this side had been back then, it didn't seem all that unlikely. He shuddered at the thought. Two Walters, locked in a battle of wits across universes.

He wasn't sure he could think of anything more horrifying.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked in a quiet voice, abruptly changing the subject. If he was baring his soul here, he might as well do a thorough job of it. "You knew that I was from the other side. You knew for days, and you just let it tear you up inside." He paused, taking in her suddenly guilty expression. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Peter…" She swallowed visibly, and a slightly panicked look crossed her face. Her eyes met his pleadingly, but she straightened, clearly willing to face up to her actions even as she was terrified of what his response would be. "A part of me wanted to tell you. But… I thought…" She paused, and her voice dropped slightly. "We thought you'd leave."

He felt the small feeling of betrayal he'd been carrying fade as he studied her. Her eyes burned into his, worrying, wondering, wanting him to stay. She hadn't meant to hurt him—he knew that. In a strange way, she'd been trying to protect him. A part of him wished she'd succeeded. He'd certainly been happier not knowing. But he knew that, at least in this particular case, ignorance was definitely not bliss. It would have blown up in their faces eventually, and probably worse if he'd found out later rather than sooner.

"I thought about leaving," he admitted after a moment. Her fears hadn't been completely unfounded. He almost had left, he remembered, thinking back to that night at the bar. He'd been planning an escape route, so close to just taking off, leaving all this behind—for all the good it would have done him. Still, something had stopped him from going through with it. His eyes met hers and softened.

"But you didn't," she pointed out, almost as though trying to remind him of that fact. Her eyes searched his fearfully, and he could hear her unasked question.

Smiling, he shook his head. "No, I didn't." He tucked a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear, leaning in to kiss her cheek. Pulling back, he held her gaze reassuringly. "I'm not gonna leave you, Olivia. Don't worry."

As soon as he said it, something in her shoulders immediately relaxed, and she let him pull her into a kiss. His stomach tightened as she deepened the kiss and leaned into him. As he gently caressed her cheek, he wondered with a twinge of regret if she'd be so relaxed if she could hear what he wasn't saying:

He'd never leave her… but that didn't necessarily mean he wouldn't leave.

************

"Ah, yes… I remember this song! Delightful bass line!" Walter exclaimed, wagging his finger in rhythm as he sang along with the bass in a booming voice. "Bum bum bum babababum! Bum bum bum badadadum!" He began to tap his foot as well, fully approving of their new music selection. Much better.

Having rejected the Yes album after only one song—it didn't make him recall anything except a strange craving for orange sherbet—they'd moved on to another record. Whichever this one was. He couldn't recall. But oh, yes, this one brought back memories! Nothing relevant, of course, unfortunately. Something about a car, he thought, and something else… He wasn't sure. But memories nonetheless.

Astrid laughed. Grinning incredulously, she held up the record cover. "'Under Pressure?' Really?"

"Yes! That's it!" He pointed at her enthusiastically as she said the song title. "That's what it's called: 'Under Pressure.' You know, I couldn't remember!" he chuckled. The man on the record began to sing, and Walter sang along theatrically, pleased to discover that he knew the words. "Pressure! Pushing down on me, pressing down on you—no man ask for. Under pressure! That burns a building down, splits a family in two…" An image flashed in his mind, and his singing faltered. What was that? But it faded after a moment and he shrugged the lapse off as an effect of his drugs. He picked up singing again. "It's the terror of knowing what this world is about…"

The image flashed again, but this time he could make out something… Peter was there, younger, there was something…

"Walter?" he heard Astrid ask. Her pitch indicated concern, he noted, but he focused on the image.

"Your pupils are good—they're good!"

It came in a rush, but this time he seemed to absorb it instead of it just flashing by, and at the end he suddenly recalled a conversation with Peter shortly after he was released from St. Claire's.

"I'd like to check your blood pressure."

"Why don't you check you own blood pressure. Mine's fine, thanks."

"Your skin tone suggests you might be suffering from arterial hypertension."

"Don't tell me what I'm suffering from. And there are no signs of arterial hypertension…"

"Peter!" he cried, back in the present moment. He gripped the confused Astrid's shoulders. "Where's Peter?"

"He's… he's in the other room," she replied, eyes wide. "Walter, what's wrong?"

He shook his head. Releasing her shoulders, he turned and rushed into the next room. Peter and Agent Dunham were kissing. There wasn't time for that! "Peter!" he called, shaking his son's arm.

Peter pulled away from Olivia and turned to look at him, eyebrows raised in irritation. "Yes, Walter?" As he took in Walter's agitated expression, however, his irritation faded to worry. "What?"

"I need to check your vitals right away," Walter said in a tense voice.

"My…" Peter's brow creased in suspicion. "Walter, why do you need my vitals?"

"Because, son… I think you might be dying."

************

A/N – Thanks for reading! Next update will hopefully be up quicker this time… Sorry about the delay! I hope you enjoyed it though! : )