I know what it's like to have a hole in my life. It's been there as long as I can remember. - Olivia Dunham
A Month Ago
Olivia found herself in a unique position; no consultations with Walter, no cases demanding her specialized expertise, no interdimensional trespassers to track. It had been years since she'd had this much down time. Even when she and John were together, one or the other of them were always working active cases and the pace of their lives seemed more chaotic because of it.
She needed focus and motivation, anything to distract her from the empty feeling, the sense of missing something. She had to get answers and she knew there was probably only one source that could help her.
The man behind the desk looked up as Olivia tapped on the door frame. His crisp white lab coat hung from the coat rack just inside the door, but he still looked every bit the part of the brilliant biochemist and CEO of Massive Dynamic in his starched Tattersall button down, perfectly knotted tie, and cashmere cardigan.
"Agent Dunham, what a pleasure!" Walter Bishop came around the desk and greeted Olivia with a warm hug. "What brings you here today? No problems, I hope?"
"No, Walter. I was hoping to talk to you about a personal matter. Do you have a few minutes?"
Walter gestured towards a chair in front of his desk, then stepped over to close the door. "Of course, Olivia," he said in a less formal tone. He leaned against the front of his desk, and looked down at the young woman he'd come to regard almost as fondly as a daughter.
Their relationship had started in a much more contentious vein; as head of Massive Dynamic, Walter Bishop felt little need to tolerate a federal agent prying into the more confidential activities of his company under the guise of investigating so-called "Fringe" events. As the effects of these 'events' became more widespread, more deadly, and more public, he decided it was politically expedient to be known as the source of the solutions, rather than the instigator of the problems.
So, Walter Bishop and his inner circle at MD formed an uneasy truce with Olivia Dunham and the "Fringe Division" staff. Although the MD resources in New York were virtually unlimited, Harvard allowed Walter to reopen his old lab on campus – after a generous endowment from the Bishop/Bell Foundation and a visit from the FBI Special Agent in charge from the Boston office, Phillip Broyles. The Harvard lab was convenient for Olivia and her team, being based out of the Boston office, and it gave Walter a certain sense of freedom that he didn't have in New York as CEO of a multi-national corporation.
Over the course of the next few years, Walter had come to admire Olivia's courage and her persistence. They celebrated their hard-earned successes, and supported each other through their losses.
"So, m' dear…" Walter said encouragingly, as he extracted a Red Vine from the antique glass straw dispenser he kept on any desk he inhabited. The Secretary favored cigars, but Olivia's Walter had a sweet tooth and Red Vines were his favorite.
"Walter… I think I'm hallucinating. I keep hearing a voice, the same voice. I keep seeing someone out of the corner of my eye, but there's no one there." Olivia's voice was calm and measured, but her hands clasped and unclasped themselves in her lap.
"And this is no one you know? No one you might've encountered somewhere else?"
"No, Walter, although he seems familiar. And he definitely seems to know me." Olivia looked up at Walter, a worried look on her face.
"It's almost as if I can feel him, or feel where he should be. Like there's an empty space that should be filled."
Walter captured her restless hands between his own. "Olivia," he said softly, "Does this have anything to do with Agent Scott?" Even though John Scott had been killed before the FBI / MD partnership, Olivia had confided her loss.
"No, Walter, it's nothing like that." She sighed, and her normally controlled voice took on a desperate tone. "Walter, what's happening to me? "
"M' dear, is this man, this image… is he harming you, or threatening you in any way?"
"No, it's almost as if I feel safer when I see him, or feel him." Olivia ran her hands through her already tousled hair.
"Then just let it be. Your subconscious is trying to tell you something, and you must open your mind to it." Walter chuckled. "I have something that could help you with that, actually sever – "
Olivia stood, shaking her head in refusal, but with a small smile playing across her face. Dr. Bishop's predilection for homegrown pharmaceuticals was legend among the inner circle of his MD staff. As the MD staff and the Fringe agents grew more comfortable with each other, they warned Olivia and her team to be cautious accepting Walter's offers of food and drink.
As Olivia turned to the door, Walter spoke again, in a more gentle tone.
"Olivia… "
"Yes, Walter?" She turned, curious at the change in his voice.
"Olivia… When Elizabeth and I were much younger, she became pregnant. She lost the baby after only a few weeks."
"Walter, I'm so sorry. I didn't know."
The older man shook his head and a wistful smile crossed his face, softening his usually stern visage.
"No matter now. A great many things, good and bad, have happened since then. But I remember, she told me something that might be pertinent to your current state of mind." When he looked at Olivia again, he looked all of his sixty years.
"She said her arms ached for the baby that was missing. She ached for what wasn't there."