Chapter Seven: Poison
Peter
Peter was nearly one hundred percent sure he was dreaming. Nearly one hundred percent sure. But now he was certain. There was no way he could possibly be awake. None at all. The chances he was even awake were so minute. Firstly because there was no possible way he could have stayed conscious during the trip to the alternate universe and secondly because there was no way Olivia Dunham had found him. Olivia also hated the color white. But here she was, dressed in a beautifully simple white dress.
His mind had created a simple white room, a simple dark oak bed with white sheets that he sat upon. Olivia stood opposite him, her straight blonde hair framing her face and her green eyes staring at him. He was dressed in a white cotton button down and white pants, something he'd never wear either. He looked into her eyes, and even in the distance he could see she was hurting; that familiar look that she was trying to find redemption for something she'd done. It hit him hard when he realized she was trying to find redemption because she had let him go.
She was cautious in her approach, apprehensive in her stride as she came up to him. Her eyes were glittering with moisture, had she been crying? Peter shook his head. Why had he imagined her this way? He tried to stand, but he couldn't. Olivia's approach was gracefully slow, but he didn't mind. He waited for her, just like he had said to her a long while ago. Finally she reached him and she collapsed to her knees at his, her hands resting on his knees. He was weary at first, should he touch her hands or would that make this flawless recluse of her disappear forever?
"Olivia," he breathed softly, watching as the air brushed her face, just a slight movement of hair brushing back. She gave a shaky smile.
"Peter," she answered calmly, "Peter."
"Liv," he said, watching as she laid her head on his knees. He let out a shaky breath of relief. She was there and not going away.
"Peter," she said, her voice unstable, "Why'd you go? You said you'd stay, but you left. You said you cared about me."
Peter looked down into her eyes. They glittered with tears that would not fall. He'd never seen her cry; he didn't want her too. He looked away.
"I know," he answered her. He stared at the sheets on the bed. He felt horrible for leaving her.
"You cared," she whispered, her voice sounding so far away. Peter glared angrily at the sheets. Why was his memory doing this to him?
"Did you know Olivia?" he accused angrily, "You had to have known. You could see. You never told me-" the anger was boiling now, "You never told me! I walked around with this monster for twenty years and you knew!"
"Pet-"
"You knew! Why Olivia, why not tell me? What was so hard about not telling me! Don't you care?"
"I care Peter!" she said back angrily, "I care! But it's not my secret to tell! He said he would, he said he would tell-"
"Oh," Peter answered sarcastically, "You see how well that turned out didn't you?"
'Yeah, I did," she said harshly, "You ran off when I needed you, you said you'd be there when I needed you. I needed you, but you weren't there. Now we're suffering and it's your fault. Look at me Peter, look at me-"
Her fingers grasp his face and wrenched it to look at her.
"-I'm falling apart. My world is falling apart. You left me. I thought you'd be there. You told me everything would be all right but it's not. Look what you've done!"
"Me? Liv, you can't honestly-"
"I'm falling apart! You can't hide forever! Look at me!"
He could see it in her eyes. She was hurting. Her perfect mask of peace had slipped away and he could see panic and fear written on her face. He could see abandonment in her eyes and he could almost feel the hurt in her breath. He staggered a bit and stumbled backwards. This was just a dream. He hadn't really hurt her had he?
But he had. It was there plain as day. Even in his memory she was bleeding, bleeding hurt. He looked at her from his distance and she looked so fragile and out there. He couldn't believe it, all because of him, all for him. It was the mixture of self-hate and pride, she was suffering for him because of him. She was both his poison and his cure. She was both the moon and the sun. Her eyes rained sun and they also could spit fire. She was the perfect contradiction.
He gathered her in his arms and held her close to him. He could feel her breathing in his shoulder and he could smell her hair. She smelled like Olivia and he felt at home. He needed her, if only she stayed with him in her memory. He would happily live here in his mind forever, if she stayed like this, so perfectly his, his own trick of the mind, his own perfect heaven.
"Peter," she whispered into his shoulder. Her lips brushed his collarbone so gently and he melted. She pulled back in his embrace and looked up at him.
"Peter," she said again, brushing her hands against cheek. Her skin had never felt so soft as it did when she touched his cheek. He could have melted in her right there.
"I'm coming Peter, I'm coming to save you."
