"Mmm, these have got to be the most delicious strawberries in all the universes, even the ones we haven't crossed over to. I swear Peter, they're so good. " Olivia says exhaling with utter contentment, her eyes closed, as she bites into yet another chunk of fruit with so much pleasure that he can't help chuckling.

"I wouldn't know considering you won't even let me try one, but they must be quite something for you to be sighing and moaning like that. I mean even I can't get you to make sounds like that." he says bringing his hand forward to wipe off some of the red juice that's dribbling down her lip onto her chin.

She cocks an eyebrow at him shaking her head at him, "Well maybe you ought to consider working on that..." and her attention's already back to her bowl.

"Whatever, I am just happy to see you eating again," he tells her, genuinely relieved that her appetite had resurfaced after the harrowing morning sickness that she'd been having for the past few weeks.

"I can't seem to stop," she shakes her head, "it's like I am eating all the time and when I am not, all I can do is think about eating, could you get me some more strawberries by the way, they're in the fridge… " she says licking her fingers and noticing that her bowl is empty.

"Sure," Peter walks up to the refrigerator to pull out a box from the dozen or so that Olivia had picked up the last time at the supermarket, since her obsession with the fruit had started. He quickly washes them for her and sets it on the table and can't help smile at the way she promptly empties the whole box into her bowl, as if afraid somehow that he was going to ask her to share.

"Easy there honey, nobody's stealing your precious fruit away from you," he tells her as he pours himself a second cup of coffee, once again coming to join her at the table.

"What can I say? She loves the strawberries," Olivia says, bringing her hand to her middle, where a small but prominent bump has begun to appear in the last few days, in the unconscious, absent way that has become second nature to her that he finds all too endearing.

"She doesn't really taste what you eat. I hope you know that…you did take a biology lesson sometime in your life I presume? " he points out as he takes a sip of his coffee, unable to restrain himself from teasing her.

"Yeah… I took several actually. One even in college, though you wouldn't know what that's like given you've never attended college." she scowls at him and Peter can't resist.

"No, but I taught a lot of college kids and I know some of the insanely stupid things they'll believe about how reproduction works. It's not your fault; you're a victim of misinformation and faulty education systems." he says in a mock condescending voice.

"You know how we talked about that fine line that exists between me thinking you're funny and me thinking you're a conceited jerk who likes to assume he knows better than anybody?"

"Yeah?"

"You're sort of tip toing on that line right about now and if I were you I'd rethink uttering any of the several clever comebacks that I know are just dancing on the tip of your tongue."

"Oh but I was just getting started..." he grins good naturedly before putting up his hands in mock defeat and she's smiling to herself, both her hands on her belly now as if in vague contemplation.

"I know it shouldn't be possible, but I know that she likes the taste of strawberries. Just like I know she likes the warmth of the sun and the scent of vanilla. I can't explain it to you, but I feel her respond to objects, sights, sounds, and sensations. It was so faint in the beginning that I thought I was imagining it, but it's been getting a lot stronger."

"Are you serious?" Peter asks, his hand coming to join hers, feeling a strange sense of awe at the possibility of something like that.

"Yeah, especially when you're around," she takes in the wonderstruck look in his eyes, as he's looking at her middle and smiles at him, " I first thought it was just me but I think she likes you almost as much as strawberries."

"Almost as much as strawberries huh?" Peter asks raising his eyebrow, "I gave her life and I am on the same level as fruit on her list of preferences? That's just great." He almost looks offended and Olivia doesn't have the heart to tease him.

"Well maybe a tad more," she tells him intertwining his fingers with hers and moving it in a gentle motion over her bump that she knows the baby finds soothing, "Actually lots more, when you put your hands on my stomach, it's like… it's like she comes alive with joy. I feel this giant tide of happiness wash over me. It's amazing Peter." she tells him.

And the grin on his face is stretched to capacity as he takes in her words, "You're amazing Liv," he comes closer to kiss her forehead, "The things you can do… nothing's really impossible with you is it?"

"I don't know if I can take all the credit, I think some of this is her," she tells him, "it's like she's becoming an actual person inside there and she wants me to be aware of that. Do you think we should be worried about this? I mean it is a little strange right?"

"No honey, it's a lot strange actually," he tells her still somewhat in awe of something like this, "But for once, it's the good kind of strange."

"Yeah, I think I like this kind of strange, a lot," She tells him, her eyes shining with an amplified happiness.

He decides it's time he spoke to her about Henry.

One of the unspoken rules of their relationship has been to maintain a mutually respected silence about her time over there… over what happened between him and the other Olivia. It was a chasm that they preferred to keep locked and given that in this timeline, the other Olivia hadn't actually been with him because he hadn't existed made it that much easier to block out that chapter of their lives, almost dismiss it because it never happened.

But the knowledge of Henry has been gnawing at him for too long and he feels like he can't keep it from her any longer without feeling like he's deceiving her.

Because every time they share a moment like today, or Olivia's musing aloud to him about the possibility of some physical feature she's hoping their baby will have, his mind can't help but drift to the flashes he had glimpsed in the Observer's mind of the son he never knew about, the son who now doesn't exist.

He's tried in vain to bring the subject up in the past few weeks, trying ever so much to find the courage in the rare emotionally neutral moments when Olivia is not racked with worry for the baby or literally levitating with happiness about her, but he always shies away from doing it.

Part of him doesn't want to hurt her given all that she's been through.

And then there's the part of him that is scared to death that this information could irrevocably distance them one another, terrified that this could be the wedge that drives them apart, creating a break that they can't hope to bridge again.

Because everybody… even Olivia has their breaking point.

So that night, as they lie on the couch watching one of their cheesy horror films, as she's comfortably curled up against his chest, he steels himself, bracing for the second most difficult conversation he has ever had to have with her, and it's following such a sickeningly familiar route that his heart lurches knowingly.

"Olivia, there's something I have to talk to you about; it's about her, the other Olivia."

"What about her?" she asks nonchalantly, her eyes still on the screen where some clichéd macabre scene involving human carnage is playing out. She's obviously thinking about her alternate from this timeline, the woman who had no association with him whatsoever and it tells him just how much of a can of worms he's about to open by forcing her to remember something which only exists now as a memory.

"Not this one, the one from the other timeline." Peter doesn't miss the way her back, noticeably tenses against him when he says that.

"Peter whatever it is, I'd rather not talk about it." She's shaking her head.

"I know and I would never bring this up if it wasn't something I felt you needed to know, you deserved to know, so please… just listen alright. You don't have to say anything if you don't feel like it and I promise I'll never bring it up again unless you want to." He tells her and he can see the reluctance writ large on her face though she nods imperceptibly, and it's enough for him to take as a sign to go ahead.

"You know that we slept together... and I never knew any of this but the Observer showed me when I was in his consciousness…" he pauses, uncertain as to how he could bring himself to say the words, "There was a child Liv."

She inhales sharply and looks at him, shell-shocked.

"A child?" she repeats weakly.

"A son… my son." he presses on.

"Your son…" she whispers, and then her gaze meets his, "You have a son…with her?"

He shakes his head sadly, "Had… he doesn't… he doesn't exist Liv, he was written out of the timeline along with me."

"Oh God!" she moves away from him bringing one hand up to her lips in horror as the words sink in, as she clutches her swollen stomach with the other, almost afraid, "Oh God…" she exclaims again, her eyes close to tears.

"Liv… I am sorry, I didn't…"

"Don't," she shakes her head furiously, she's standing up, inching away from her, her hands waving him away. "Please… not now."

She disappears into the bedroom as fast as her feet will take her.

Peter doesn't follow her.

Olivia stands in the shower for so long, she loses track of time, letting the warm water run over her body, her hands constantly drifting to her womb, as if she needs to keep reassuring herself that her daughter was still inside her, hadn't been taken away from her like Peter's son.

Son… she thinks numbly. He had a son… with her.

And in the moment she's transported back to that day in the hospital, when's he's sitting opposite her and breaking her heart with every word.

When you asked me to come back to this world with you... you said...

...that you belonged with me.

And so I came back for you... for us. And we started seeing each other. And I explained away the differences because our relationship was different. I thought she was you, Olivia.

I thought she was you….

She remembers breaking down in her apartment, clutching his MIT shirt, trying to make the images of the two of them together go away from her mind.

She wasn't me. How could you not see that? Now she's everywhere. She's in my house, my job, my bed, and I don't want to wear my clothes anymore, and I don't want to live in my apartment, and I don't want to be with you. She's taken everything.

And now she's taken this too, Olivia thinks weakly, slumping to the tub her head leaning against the tiles as the water cascades over her body, the shower still on, as she brings her knees together, hugging her stomach, the tears coming slowly and she cries silently.

She's read the other Olivia's file, knows that she had cared for him, had developed actual feelings for him, and maybe even fallen in love with him.

She must have been happy… happy to have been carrying his child, experienced all the same wonderful feelings, held her baby in her arms and seen traces of Peter in him.

Must have loved that child more than life itself.

All that Olivia would have and do … except that she's had it and done it first.

This baby had been the only aspect of her relationship with Peter that had been untainted by the difficulties of their past, a joy that was hers and his alone, a first they could experience together.

Not anymore…

And she doesn't know who she can even be mad at for that. The woman who had stolen Peter from her didn't exist, the son they had together (his firstborn and not with her she can't help thinking), didn't exist either.

Then how does the pain of it still exist, she wonders…

"Olivia… it's me Peter…" his voice breaks through the reverie of her thoughts as she hears a knock on the bathroom door, "I know you don't want to talk to me right now. But you've been in there for over an hour and a half and I am a little worried. Could you just let me know you're okay?"

Of course I am not okay… nothing about this situation is close to okay

"I am fine… I'll be out in a minute." she says tonelessly, gripping the edges of the tub as she stands up, grabbing a towel off the hanger to dry herself rapidly, her head feels woozy from the hot shower and she blinks rapidly to clear the fog, trying to reclaim focus.

She wraps a robe around herself and makes her way out of the bathroom, her eyes downcast, so that she doesn't have to see Peter. He's sitting on the bed, his face a little bit relieved to see her, before it deflates again.

She doesn't say anything, making her way to the dresser as she sits down on the stool, picks up a comb and starts running it through her damp hair, pulling a little more harshly than needed. She knows he's watching her through the mirror.

"What?" She finally asks, unable to take it after a few minutes.

"Nothing…"

"Then why are you staring at me?"

"I just want to make sure you're fine."

"Do I not look fine to you?" She turns around to face him, her face expressionless.

"You know I never meant for any of this to happen. I never meant to hurt you," he begins….

"I think we both know what you meant for to happen is about as relevant to this conversation as a doorknob," she cuts him off, feeling her exhaustion with this situation seep to her core, "I am fairly sure you didn't mean to get two versions of the same woman pregnant without really trying to. Though deep down I am sure it must make you feel rather proud of your virility for being able to beat odds like that despite birth control, assuming of course that you used any with her. I mean she was so much more free-willing than me …"

She doesn't miss the way he winces at that statement and she berates herself in that instant…

"We always used protection… I thought she was you. I would have never put you at risk. You know me better than that." He says. "This didn't happen because I was reckless Olivia, I swear I wasn't ..."

"And yet here we are..." she says, throwing her hand up in the air, "Why is it that it's nobody's fault and I am still the one who gets hurt? We get hurt? How is that fair? " She asks him softly, almost bewildered at this series of events, "This baby was the one thing, the only thing that I had with you that was pure and untouched by any of the misery that we've been put through in the last couple of years and now I don't even have that." she says.

"Liv… that's not true." Peter's telling her, his voice agitated at whatever she's suggesting "You know this doesn't change anything with the baby. It won't change how we feel about…how I feel about her…"

"Because every time I'll look at her, I'll be forced to think about the fact that you had a son who doesn't exist anymore." She's not listening to him anymore, "And that maybe she's here only because he isn't. Do you know how that makes me feel Peter?" she asks him.

He looks at her, his eyes a reflection of her own conflicted feelings and he doesn't say anything and he simply gets up and picks up a pillow from his side of the bed.

"Where are you going?" She asks him.

"I just, maybe I should sleep on the couch tonight." He says.

"And what purpose would that serve?" She asks tiredly.

"You don't seem to want to be near me right now and we're not going to resolve this right now, so the least I can do is give you some space to yourself." He says and then looks at her with an odd mixture of worry and apology. "You need to get some rest Liv. This stress can't be good for you… for the baby. I'll still be here tomorrow if you wanna scream at me or hurl things at me or decide you're done with me alright?"

The last part of the sentence is obviously meant to be a joke, but she doesn't miss the actual fear in his eyes.

Despite the suggestion of rest being laughable, Olivia does fall asleep that night…. the moment her heads hits the pillow, her body too worn out to handle anymore thinking.

She has the most beautiful dream that night.

She's walking in water like substance, except there's no solid ground beneath her feet, it's lighter and clearer and she can breathe in it easily enough. There's a light somewhere that's illuminating a path for her, and she follows it without a question, feeling a strange calmness wash over her as she nears the light, comes closer to it, the beams bathing her in white brightness so much so that the outlines of her figure are blurred, making her feel almost like she's part of it.

And then Olivia sees her and it takes her breath away… in the centre of that candescence, as if she was being held up by that light, an infant so perfect with alabaster skin and the tiniest pink toes and fingers and wisps of golden hair and the most startling blue eyes, like the way the surface of the ocean shimmered on a warm summer day, so familiar and yet so new looking back at her…

Olivia moves closer to the light, to hold her…

She feels weightless in her arms and so small and yet so real, and Olivia runs a hand through her cheek, bringing her close to her face so she can see her up close, gasping at the softness of her skin.

"You're beautiful..." she whispers to the baby, nuzzling her nose, "you're so beautiful,"

And the baby's now smiling at Olivia, the curve of her minuscule lips so strikingly like Peter's, as she raises her arm that collides with Olivia's face and she can't help but laugh.

"I love you," she tells her, "I love you so much."

"I'll come back to you, I promise." She's telling the baby after an eternity seems to have passed, as she gently places her back in the solidness of the light, and the infant is now grabbing her finger tightly.

"We'll be together soon. For now, you need to stay here okay..." she tells her, pressing a gentle kiss to the little fingers that are trying hard to grasp at her hand.

And the light's pulling away from her now, moving farther and farther away

She awakens with a gasp, her mind still enveloped in a wave of serenity, as the remnants of her dream ripple through her body, flooding her with an exceptional physical and mental calmness.

The first rays of the early morning sun are streaming down on her from the windows and she brings her hand to her stomach… a wide smile on her face.

"You did this for me didn't you?" she asks closing her eyes, still savoring the dream, "Thank you…" she whispers... "Thank you baby."

She makes her way to the living room, to find Peter sprawled out on the couch, asleep. And she can't help but be reassured by the sight of him. Gently, she pushed his legs away, making some room for herself.

"Peter…" she shakes him gently, feeling bad for cutting short his sleep. But she feels she needs to say too much to him and it can't wait at all.

"Olivia… what?" He opens his eyes, squinting as he tries to focus. "What's wrong sweetheart?" He asks her in a scratchy voice.

"Nothing's wrong. Everything's perfect actually." She says, unable to keep herself from smiling. "Peter I saw her... I saw her and she was so beautiful…"

"Whom did you see?" Peter asks rubbing his eyes as he sits up.

"The baby…. I saw her in my dream Peter." She says excitedly.

He gives her a sleepy smile, bringing one hand to rest on her cheek. "You had a dream that you saw the baby."

"No…. I saw her… in the dream. It was like a vision and it came from her Peter. I know it. She showed it to me." She sees the way Peter's eyes widen at her words and he gives her a soft smile.

"You saw her." He echoes her words, his voice almost wonderstruck. And then as if he was reminded of something, of the events of last night, his hand drops away from her cheek.

"She has your eyes you know." She says and he looks up at her with an emotion that can only be described as elation, even as it is muted.

"And she reminded me of what really matters at the end of the day." She tells him, reaching out to take his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as she rests her head against his shoulder. "That's two things the both of you have in common."

"Liv I…."

"I am sorry you never got to know him… your son." She says before he starts apologizing like she knows he will.

The statement is a simple one, but it's enough for him to understand that she's not angry with him. That she understood his need to have told her.

That they would manage to get past this.

" Maybe it's a good thing I never got to know him after all… it would have hurt so much more for knowing him…" He says sadly and then turns to her.

"His name was Henry you know…"

"Henry..." She repeats… remembering the cab driver on the other side who had helped her when she had tried to escape.

What about you? You got someone?

Sort of

That's an odd name... "sort of."

His name is Peter. He's sort of the reason I'm here

" Henry's a nice name." She smiles at him, feeling something like approval coming from her daughter.

"I think she likes it."