Author's Note: How's that for an update! Two weeks, I think that's my best record yet! Thank you to those who have stuck it out throughout this entire ride! I present the second to last chapter! Reviews welcome!
Ten-Thirteen
The first thing he felt was the pain. It awakened him from a dark, stinging sleep of unknown origin. It was the type of pain that had no beginning, but simply was there; a throbbing, searing, scorching hot fire that burned through every aspect of his body, his blood flowing like molten lava through his veins. Everything hurt. His head, his arms, legs, fingernails, even his eyelashes felt as if they were lit with a match. Blood pooled in his mouth as his senses started to come to. Copper and iron mixed with salt and saliva as he lifted his head from the cold concrete and spit out the glob of coagulated liquid slowly oozing from the bite mark on his tongue and cheek. His hands felt heavy, wiping a line of pink tinged drool from his lip as he gazed along the flat concrete underneath him, waiting for the fog to clear from his vision.
What the hell happened to him? Last Peter remembered he was standing outside with Broyles and a few other FBI Agents as they waited for Olivia and Handler to clear. He blinked, collapsing into the ground again as his muscles gave out. His memory was foggy, no doubt from the steadily accumulating concussion he must have. Ever so carefully he searched his mind for the answer to how he had awoken in a dank and moist stone carved cavern.
His hazy, lopsided vision caught sight of another body twenty or so feet from where he rested. A bloodied hand and battered face lay quietly across from him; her blonde hair was matted and soaked with blood from the large gash on her forehead and her cheek, crusted and coated with dirt, her black clothes spotted with wet crimson stains as one word came to his fuzzy mind, his eyes widening in realization.
Olivia…
Suddenly, the memories came flying back, making his head pound harder. He was talking with Broyles going over the details of the raid when suddenly gun shots rang out from beyond the prison walls and the panicked voice coming over the radio. Shouts of "Ten-thirteen! Ten-thirteen, officer down!" cut through the buzzing static. He remembered running faster than the wind at the sound of the transmission and pulled his gun from his lower back. As he ran into the courtyard he caught sight of Olivia's collapsed silhouette being pummeled by tall men and a gun pointed towards her head. Peter pulled the trigger, sending bullets flying. As he rounded another corner, he ran straight into the butt of a gun. Once, twice, and the third knocked him out cold.
Using whatever energy Peter could muster he brought his weight on his arms and rolled onto his back, his bones creaking and grinding as he drew in a sharp breath and felt his head swim, waves rolling back and forth as he flipped over and closed his eyes, begging for the rocking motions to stop. Propping himself up slowly he made his way over to where Olivia's unconscious body lay prone, quiet, and cold beneath his worried hands. Slowly, carefully he turned her over onto her back, her body limp in his arms.
"Olivia…" he rasped against a sandpaper throat, caressing her cheek gently. "Oliv-" his voice cut off as he moved a piece of blood-matted hair from her forehead, revealing the open, bleeding flesh wounds she endured. Tears pools in his eyes as a sudden shot of fear and adrenaline flooded his system. "Olivia," he said as his voice became stronger and gave her a gentle shake. Placing his mouth across hers he gave her a gentle breath, his lips begging for any life to show but none came. Moving his fingers to her bruised neck he found what he desperately wished was there. A pulse. It was rapid, faint and extremely weak, but it was there. Beneath his hands, her chest rose slowly and with a harrowing shallowness that only sent more quivers through his heart. It wasn't much, but it was there.
"She put up one hell of a fight," came a voice from the shadows, thick and dark, "But in the end, she was overpowered. Of course your little stunt didn't help either."
"What did you do to her?" he glanced towards Olivia, bruises beginning to develop across her face. "I said what the hell did you do to her?" Peter screamed, his voice echoing angrily against the stone walls. There was no response this time. Peter's hands shook as he fought to pull Olivia's gun from her holster and aimed it towards the darker parts of the room as he hovered protectively over her. As he tensed the pain intensified, burning his muscles at the weight of the glock and his head pounded, his vision tilting from one side to the other.
"Come now, Mr. Bishop, let's not have any of that. I'm sure you wouldn't want Agent Dunham's little girl harmed," Warden Smithers said as he emerged from the shadows with a panicked Ella in his arms, his hand over her mouth as she struggled, her eyes wide with fear as she stared at Peter, silently begging him for help as Smithers smoothed the hair on her head. She called her Aunt's name and cried, but still no response.
His pulse screamed in his ears. "Why… are you… doing… this?" he panted between painful breaths.
Smithers tightened his hold of Ella who let out a muffled cry in his hand. "Why, Mr. Bishop is a single phrase that does not come near my intensions. I have been robbed, Peter, and I intend to get back what I lost."
Peter huffed, the gun dancing around his line of vision as he fought off an agonizing desire to fall unconscious. "You mean stealing the lives of innocent people. Mothers, daughters, children. Innocent people-"
"Those people," Smithers spat, "Aren't as innocent as you expect them to be. In that aspect, you are wrong. I have done nothing wrong here, except to put them out of misery."
"You… experiments and dissected them like they were lab rats. No matter what the crime, no one deserves to live their final days like that." Peter said. "In this case, the punishment is undeserved." He cringed, feeling his ribs grind against another. Beneath his grounded hand, he felt Olivia stir slightly, her breath pick up speed across his skin. "So what sadistic, inhuman joy did you get out of this, Smithers? I thought you were a man of God," Peter chuckled, his vision blurring, "Some follower you turned out to be."
Smithers straightened; obviously Peter had struck a sour chord. "I am a man of God, Mr. Bishop, but He has done nothing for me. He robbed me of everything I loved in my life!"
Peter shook his head. "So that justifies taking the life of one another… to fill that hole He has taken from you."
Smithers sat stone faced as he pulled a gun from his waist and pressed the barrel into Ella's head, causing Peter's smirk to drop. "You can never understand what has been taken from me," he said darkly, his eyes dropping into the shadows. "In order to so, perhaps you need a demonstration. So here, Mr. Bishop, I give you an option. You chose who dies."
The next thing Peter knew he had a knee shoved into his back and his arms pulled behind him as two men dressed in black forced Peter to his knees and threw a punch at his gut. Two other men grabbed Olivia's limp body and pulled her towards Smithers, who caressed her battered cheek, smiling and glancing at Peter. Throwing Ella to another set of arms Smithers made his way towards where Olivia was perched precariously by the two guards. He clicked the bullet into place and held the barrel to her temple.
"You chose."
Ever muscle in Peter's body shook as nervous tears began to pool at the corners of his mouth. Adrenaline pumped faster as he tried to think of something. Anything. With every ounce of energy he could muster he tried to shake himself free but found his efforts futile. His body and mind were drained, petrified by the gun held to Olivia's temple as Smithers stared Peter down, his face stone and emotionless.
"My patience is wearing thin, Mr. Bishop. Choose. Your girlfriend or the child. If not, I'll choose for you. Subject this poor creature," he motioned towards Ella, "to witness the death of her Aunt, or save the child and lose Agent Dunham. Your time is running out."
"Me," Peter said, his voice quivering, "Take me, leave them out of this."
"That is not an option, Mr. Bishop. My patience continues to wear out; make your choice!"
The next ten seconds felt like a lifetime moving in slow for Peter; his hearing faded out and his eyes saw bursts of yellow, green and purple as he held his breath. Tightening his grip on the trigger Smithers' face tensed with frustration as he continued to aim at Olivia's head. His words were inaudible as Peter felt himself stop breathing.
A single gunshot rang out across the stone room they stood in as Peter turned his head away from the thunderous sound and his nose burned of gun powder, heated metal and blood. He remembered screaming Olivia's name, loud and with any hopes it would awaken her. His own voice seemed distant as his heart stopped at the sight of her body collapsing to the ground.
The guard on her right collapsed with her, a single trail of blood falling from the exit wound in his forehead, his eyes gazing unforgiving at the ceiling as he fell to the ground with a solid thud. In the blink of an eye the guard on her right fell as two bullets grazed his skin; one entering his chest and the other his head. More bullets rang out the guard holding Ella fell, as well as the two guards holding Peter, bullet holes pierced their bodies as they fell to the ground lifeless, relinquishing their hold of him.
Black spots plagued Peter's vision as he finally let out the breath he had been holding and sighed in relief, a displaced chuckle in his voice. He should never have doubted it.
With every ounce of energy left, Olivia stood tall and firm with the dead guard's gun in her hand, her face set and eyes dangerous. She stumbled slightly but kept her ground, arms locked and eyes loaded, firing bright green bullets where Smithers stood, his face frozen with shock. She wasn't as unconscious as she led herself to be.
"Drop. Your. Gun." Olivia punctuated her voice stone-like and unmoving. "Give it up, Smithers. It's over."
Reaching behind him Peter grabbed an abandoned glock and moved to his feet, pointing a second barrel at Smithers where he stood, his focus jumping between the two as confused plagued his face. He reached down for Ella where she crouched and pulled her back into his arms, the barrel of his gun pointed at her temple.
"Let her go, Smithers," Olivia warned his eyes between the sites of the gun, "She's not part of this."
Despite the circumstances, he laughed nervously. "On the contrary, Agent Dunham, she's just a part of this as you, Bishop and my genetic joke of a brother is."
Another gunshot rang out as it nailed Smithers in the leg, causing him to scream and curse, trying to keep his composure as he glanced towards the door and his face dropped.
"Long time to see, brother," said a deep, raspy voice, pain evident in his face. "I think it's safe to say this time, you've lost."
Standing by the entrance stood Alexander Handler, blood soaked his clothes and a single smoking barrel in his hands as he limped towards where Smithers clutched Ella and the grips of the gun tightly, unsure of who to turn his focus to next.
Peter's mind began to tick. "Brother?" He called, glancing between Alex and Smithers.
Alex nodded, turning his attention back towards Smithers. "Tell them, Davey. Tell them how you stole the Warden's identity and dropped him into a concrete filled oil drum, changed your face because you couldn't stand to resemble yourself to me. Tell them how you killed those women in order to save your dying son, and used these inmates for genetic experimentation. Let's face it, Josh was better off being let go. You tortured that poor kid with life when all he wanted to do was move on. Tell them how you set me up. Tell them," he said fiercely, walking forward slowly, "Tell them how you planned to execute me. But like always, your plan failed right at the very end."
Peter glanced to his right at Olivia, she stood frozen and fierce, her eyes trained on Smithers.
"You didn't account for me going to the authorities until it was too late. I lead them right to you. You're always saying how God helps those who help themselves. You try to play Him, to defy Him, when all along you betrayed Him. You want to kill at least one more person, David then kill me. You're already half way there, so finish the job. Send me off knowing you've just got more blood on your hands. But what you're doing won't save your boy." Alex drew in a deep breath, "Then tell Josh about the bloodshed you spread to save his life. I may have caused harm in my life, but this is my way to righting that wrong. You'll be haunted with your actions. At least my conscious will be clear."
Smithers stood, mouth open wide as he glanced between the three armed personnel, his mind turning with what to do next. "So be it." He whipped the gun west and fired towards Handler, throwing at least three more rounds into his body.
Stumbling back, Alex fought to stay up, his voice rasping as his chest bubbled from the bullet wounds.
"Why won't you die?" Smithers screamed in panic as Alex walked towards him slowly, a trail of blood outlining his footsteps.
"I… was an idea," he said between dying gasps, gazing deeply into his brother's petrified eyes. "And ideas are bulletproof."
Smithers squeezed the trigger again, but not before Alex unloaded another few rounds into Smithers' body, spray of blood across his torso. With his grip free of Ella she ran towards where Olivia stood and crouched, wrapping her in her arms and covering her ears from the gunfire as she cried. Zip zip zip they flew by as he stepped back, finally finding ground against the wall, the gun falling from his hands. With a shallow thump he slid and landed, gasping for air as he felt his lungs fill with fluid, pink froth foaming from his mouth. A second later his head tilted and all movements ceased.
For a brief moment Olivia and Peter stood still. Holstering her gun Olivia wrapped both arms around Ella as she sobbed in her Aunt's arms. Olivia swallowed hard, tears and blood stinging her eyes. "I've got you, baby girl. You're okay, honey. You're safe. God, finally, you're safe." A few feet away, Alex groaned. Moving Ella into Peter's welcoming arms Olivia walked slowly over to where Alex laid, his body trembling as blood oozed from his open wounds.
She bit her trembling lip, seeing the light leaving his eyes. "Alex," her voice quivered, "Thank you. For… everything."
"Tell… tell…" he gurgled, his hands and feet going cold, his skin gray.
Olivia nodded, holding his icy hand in hers. "I will. Jake will know what a hero his father was, I promise."
Forcing a smile, Alex's body shuddered again as his arms and legs went limp; his blood ran dry, his clothes a sticky crimson maroon and his skin pale, ashen gray. His eyes seemed to fade as the life drained from his heart. With a final breath, he relaxed, staring aimlessly upward. With a heavy heart Olivia reached over and closed his eyes and said a small prayer. Alexander Handler lay before her, bullets riddled in his body for the same of saving a life, he gave his own. That, Olivia could never say enough thanks for.
"God speed," she whispered, and returned to where Ella and Peter sat, picking her niece up in her arms and turning her away from the sight of Alex's body, whispering sweet and calming sighs into her ears, comforting the small girl in her arms. Next to her, Peter stood close, pressing his forehead against Olivia's shoulder and silently thanking whatever entity had been watching over him.
Heavy footsteps began to echo down the stone corridor as flashlights and the barrels of rifles came into view as the team called their agency's name, bright and bold letters stating FBI shone in a pale yellow, voices Olivia instantly recognized as friendly. Behind them Paramedics in bulletproof vests followed and separated, attending to their own patient. Moving from Handler's body to Smithers, they soon arrived to Peter and Olivia, assisting them to a standing position and escorted them outside into the black and purple Tennessee night.
It took almost an hour to clear the three of them-Ella, Peter and Olivia, with Ella going first. She sat on the stretcher of the ambulance with Olivia at her side, holding the girl's hand as they assessed her vitals and began an IV drip of saline to counteract a mild dehydration and splinted her wrist. With a comfortable smile Ella closed her eyes, the mild medication she was given put her into a peaceful nap until Olivia was released from the scene; she stepped out and drew in a painful, but cleansing breath. Leaning against the side of the truck she sighed. A moment of peace by herself was what she needed.
"Shouldn't you be in another bus?" Peter asked, rounding the front and grinned at her through the flashing red and blue strobes.
Olivia grinned as he leaned next to her. "I could ask you the same question. You took a pretty bad beating."
"You should look in the mirror then," he chuckled, referencing to the blotches of bruises on her cheeks and the numerous butterfly bandages that criss-crossed her forehead. "I'll be fine. How's Ella"?
She licked her dry lips, glancing towards the scene where Smithers' body was being brought out, wrapped in a body bag, then back to him. "The Medics think she's fine, other than a mild case of dehydration and maybe a broken wrist, but other than that, she'll be okay. They gave her something for the pain and are standing by until I'm released. They want to transport her just to be safe."
"What about you? What'd they say about you?" He asked.
Olivia nodded. "I told them take care of Ella first, I'll get evaluated at the hospital."
Peter chuckled. "Normally I'd argue the point, but I know that's going to be moot anyway." But in a flash, his grin faded as he rubbed the bruise on his lip uneasily. Moving closer to her, he raised a hand to caress her bruised cheek, the matching scars on his made them a perfect pair. "Listen, Liv… I…" he stuttered, pressing his lips together Peter let out a long held sigh. "You…"
The expression on his face was all to clear to her. "You thought I really was dead, didn't you?" she asked curiously, leaning her head against the side of the ambulance, cocking it slightly as to have the flashing lights reflect from her eyes.
"Well you put on a damn good performance," he huffed, his voice dropping an octave. "I… I thought I lost you." At that statement, Olivia's cocky grin faded at Peter's expression. It was a mixture of sorrow, joy and… something else. "And, it kind of makes you wonder what the world would be like without that person in your life that makes you feel… complete." He moved in front of her, his palms encasing her neck and his thumbs rubbing the smooth skin over the corners of her lips as he stared into her shining emerald eyes, colliding even further with the blue of his, sparkling in the night. He felt her shutter beneath his hands.
"I really think you need to be check out again, Peter," she breathed, her lungs ceasing immediately in anticipation of what he was going to say.
"Would you just listen to what I'm trying to tell you, Olivia?" He asked forcefully, silencing her where she stood, pressed between him and the ambulance. "When I saw you lying there, I thought for a moment I had died with you, and that made me realize that I can't stand to be without you, and before I don't get a chance to say it..." He paused, gazing deeply into her jaded eyes. "I love you, Olivia Dunham." Peter whispered, ghosting his lips across hers before sealing his words tightly, "I love you." Pressing his lips firmly against hers Peter kissed her, feeling growing moisture between their skins, her hands resting on his chest over his pounding heart.
"You love me," she muttered against his lips, feeling Peter smile as he nodded, "Or are you using all that pent up adrenaline to try and get laid later? Chocking that old wives tale of how the sex is better after an intense situation?" He kissed her again in the secluded shadow the ambulance cast.
"Maybe a little bit of both," Peter admitted with an unbashful shrug, pressing his forehead against hers.
Olivia chucked, "I thought so." Gripping his shirt in her hands she pulled Peter closer, pressing another engaging kiss to him, whispering into his lips, "I love you."
Someone cleared their throat, making Peter pull away and glance towards the interrupting noise. He felt Olivia laugh into his chest as she blushed a bright red. Standing tall towards the back of the ambulance Broyles stood with a neutral expression on his face, and tried not to roll his eyes.
"Agent Dunham," Broyles said in true Broyles fashion, "Peter, I need you to come with me. Time to give your statements and speak with the medical examiners." As quick as he came Broyles turned and let the smile he was trying to hide the smile force itself across his cheeks.
Olivia forced her eyes down and blushed sheepishly as she slipped away from the warmth of Peter's chest, letting her fingers travel down his arm to lace into his. Peter grinned as he followed her to where the two body bags now sat side by side on the stretcher. One by one they gave their account of the shoot out, trying to pinpoint distances and approximate rounds that were fired in correspondence with the rounds counted between the two bodies.
What even the Agents standing in front of them failed to notice was the slow creep of one of the zippers on the bags and a bloodied, torn hand reaching through with a miniature pistol in grasp. Slowly, Smithers pulled the zipper open until it was just enough room to maneuver. Aiming towards the Agent in front of him, he aimed.
Olivia spoke, placing an X over the schematic. "After Handler fired, what I think was ten or eleven rounds was when Smithers was killed, landing here-"
A gunshot rang through the air as the Smithers bolted upright, his gun aimed directly at Olivia's wide eyes. She reached for her glock and drew, firing a shot between Smithers' eyes, a dime-sized headshot that made him fall over onto the ground haphazardly.
"I thought you said he was dead?" Broyles hollered towards the ducking Agents who looked around confused.
Olivia holstered her weapon. "If it wasn't before, he is now. Lucky he's a crappy shot."
Behind her, Peter chuckled. "I won't say that."
Turning around Olivia felt her blood run cold as a euphoric smile crept across his face, his hand over his right chest. Peter chuckled uncharacteristically, blood oozing out between his fingertips as he looked towards her, eyes staring into the distance, color draining from them quickly.
"Peter…" Olivia trailed as the panic within her rose. He offered her one more smile before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed. "Oh God, Peter! Get a medic, he's been shot!" Her whole body trembled as Olivia knelt above him, pressed her hand firmly against the gurgling wound, hot blood pouring out between her fingers. His lips went pale as his breathing hitched in his chest, bubbling from the wound.
"Hey," he coughed quietly, silver tears cascading from his eyes, his fingers leaving a blood-stained handprint upon her cheek, "You're gonna be fine, Liv."
"Peter, Peter…" she chanted as he slipped into unconsciousness, "Peter, stay with me." His body went limp in her arms as the Paramedics arrived within seconds. "Peter!" she screamed as tears rolled down her eyes, his face expressionless and increasingly pale.
In the blink of an eye Peter was strapped into a long board and intubated, IVs running wide open as the Medics pushed fluid into his veins hoping to avoid a complete circulatory collapse. Hemorrhagic shock, Olivia knew, could do that. Lights flashed and sirens blared as the ambulance barreled down the road towards a landing zone where a helicopter had been landed. Behind the ambulance Olivia followed in an SUV, her hands gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white.
As the pre-flight preparations began she watched helplessly as they loaded him into the back of the helicopter and transferred the EKG leads to the onboard setup. Bright white lights blared around her from the chopper's blades picked up speed, sending wind, dust and grass into a swirling vortex at the bottom, her standing at its base. Shielding her eyes she watched the helicopter take off in a northern pattern, its lights diminishing as it headed towards the horizon.
Olivia stood there as her heart sunk into her feet. She knelt on the ground and watched as it disappeared from her line of sight, leaving her alone once again with nothing before her but a dark purple Tennessee sky. She drew in a tear-lined breath and swallowed. "You're gonna be fine," she whispered into the night sky, her lungs burning as if the bullet pierced her chest as well, ripping a gigantic hole in her heart. "You're gonna be fine…"
"Please, God, let him be okay," she sobbed towards the heavens.
In her head she could hear Peter's smooth, velvet voice repeating the mantra as he smiled; that had always been her anchor, her tether, and the final words Peter Bishop would speak.
"Olivia... you're gonna be fine…"
Chapter 14 coming soon…