first i want to apologize for how long it took to post this. i wrote this an re wrote this and re wrote it again and again because i didn't like it. But now, i think i've got it were i want it. It explains some things, and this is were the P/O really begins. Again, sorry i took so long in publishing.

summary: All hell breaks loose.

T for lang.

i own nothing.

By his uncomfortable shifting Lauren could tell that he didn't want this to ever occur. Laruen stared at the woman- no-she stared at her mother in confusion. She was locked up a whole universe away. She wasn't here. But this woman with her red hair, she looked so much like her mother. Lauren felt her head spinning in confusion. What was going on?

"You need to tell me the truth," Lauren ground out finally, angrily. Her fists were clenched and she blocked the door, Peter's only way out. Her mother-imposter crossed her thin arms and took a seat in a green velvet chair, a-was it a smirk?- on her face.

Peter's eyes shifted. His face was hard and stern when he looked at her and it softened when he saw Lauren. He ached to tell her the truth. But he couldn't do that, not now when he needed her to fix both universes. But she was here, and she runined everything, she always ruins everything. Her eyes danced with mirth. She was going to ruin something else and she was happy about it. Why was she so vindictive?

"I don't need to tell you anything," Peter ground out through his teeth. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I was kidnapped," Lauren said, stepping forward, " I was lied to. I was told I can't go home. You haven't given me a reason to even believe you're my father-" She choked herself on, dropping her eyes to the floor to gather her volitale temper. She inhaled deeply and exhaled, bringing her eyes back up to meet his. Her stone cold gaze shocked him and she reached for the doorknob.

"My father was a good man. He loved my mother. She was right. My father died, a long time ago."

She turned quickly, shielding her eyes from him so he could not see her tears. She ripped the door open angrily and ran to her bedroom, flying past her room and into the vast bathroom, locking the door before sinking down the back of it.

She wanted to go home. Lauren knew, she knew, she didn't belong here. This man that kidnapped her, she didn't know him. She didn't want to know him. Her whole body shook and she covered her ears as she heard voices, angry voices approaching her.

"Peter," hissed the voice of her mother-imposter, "You think you're going to fix this-" she heard shuffling and fabric ruffling, "How do you fix this when you can't even seem to get it together yourself!"

"I'm under control Dunham," he said angrily, "Everything is under control."

"Nothing is under control!"

"Let me handle it," he said, "You need to leave!"

"This isn't over, Mr. Secretary," she sneered, "I know what your kind is capable of. I will be back, she's in danger."

There was the sound of shuffling and the ding of an elevator before it went quiet. Lauren had long since stopped crying and now she felt the heat of anger through her skin. She was in danger? She reached for the counter and stood on shaking feet. Her stomach lurched, but she didn't think anything of it. She stared at herself in the mirror. Gripping the counter she stared at her own green eyes darkly, the color clouding over. She demanded answers, and she needed them now. Turning on the water, she scrubbed at her face before leaving the room, grabbing a new coat.

Peter had dropped himself into a chair by the door, a glass of whiskey balanced on the arm of the chair and between his fingers. He saw Lauren come flying out from the hall from her room and he set his glass down, just in time to catch her as she headed for the elevator.

"Where are you going?" he asked angrily, gripping her upper arm tightly. She ripped it away from him and swung around, her eyes set. Determined.

"I'm going after her," she said, "She has answers."

"No!" he said, his voice cracking on the word. He startled her into a complete stand still. Eyes ablaze, she looked at him dangerously.

"Then you tell me exactly what is going on here," her voice low and dangerous, "Or I will leave and never come back."

Peter looked at her, a mixture of shock and horror written on his face. Her eyes and her stature reminded him of the day he left, the day she stood on one side of the door while he stood in the middle. Her eyes were flaring, her hand wrapped protectively over her stomach as she stared at him, dared him to come back. But he didn't. He wouldn't. She stood on the other side with a small boy in her arms. But he still shivered as his daughter glared at him from his doorway.

"Your mother and I," he began in a soulless tone, "Were in love. We would never admit it of course, because we couldn't. You see she found me and blackmailed me into working with her to save the man she once loved. So we worked together. He died and I filled the hole. Your mother was able to cross universes, just like you, and when I got upset with her and left, she came back to get me. She told me she loved me. But there was a complication on our return home. She stayed here. That woman, the one you so willingly wanted to go with, took her place. She used me. And then, when I finally found out she wasn't her, it was too late. The damage had been done. Your mother came back, but she wasn't the same. We weren't the same."

"And then she got pregnant. Not you're mother, the other. That woman, Fauxlivia as we called her, she got pregnant suing some fancy high tech program that doesn't even exist in your universe. And somehow she was able to get pregnant with my child. And this was around the time when things started to work for us, things got easier. Your mother and I were fixing things. We were going to get married. We were going to start a family."

Peter sat down, exhausted, hoping that maybe there would be a hint of kindness in his daughter's eyes. But he saw none. She was cold and harsh, her gaze unwavering.

"And your mother got pregnant with you. And we were excited. But then things," he trailed, "Got bad. We fought. Things were happening that we couldn't explain. And we fought more and more. And then finally, one day there was this hole that opened up. On one side there was your mother and I, and the other, her with a baby boy, a beautiful red haired baby boy. And I had to make a choice. So I left. For here, for her."

At the very end of his story he was defeated, his tone low and guilty and his eyes staring at his clasped hands. There was, of course, a lot he left out that she didn't need to know, mostly to protect himself, but he told her just the base of it. There was the heavy weight of silence in the air and it hung for minutes on end. He could hear her breathing, it as gentle, cool and calm like her mother, but when he looked up all he saw were needles in her eyes.

"You left?" she whispered, "You left us."

"Yes."

Lauren couldn't wrap her head around it. Why would he come for her now, if he had made the choice years ago to leave her behind? She must have something he needs.

"What do you want from me?" she whispered in a harsh tone.

"Company."

"Bullshit," she answered, "A man like you, a coward, wants something."

Peter stood up at the insult, using his towering height and build he approached her, his eyes going icy cold and staring at hers, daring her, hoping that she would back down.

"What do I want, you ask?" he said in a cold and cruel voice, "There is a machine, a machine that was meant for me. But things have changed. I have children in two worlds. My son couldn't power it. So you can. You will create another world or you will destroy one."

"It will be mine, won't it? That's why you dragged me over here?" she shouted up at him.

"If you destroy worlds, then yes, that one."

"You know," she began angrily, grabbing her jacket again, "My mother loved you. And when I was little, she would tell me that he loved me too. She told me that my father was a hero, a man with pride and honesty and goodness in him. She loved you everyday, she told me. She kept your pictures. She kept your shirt. Hell she gave me one that said MIT. And I thought my father was a hero, a good man. But I see now that was a lie. You are no hero. You are not a father. You are a criminal. You are a murderer. You're arrogant and deceitful and will stop at nothing to get your way. You are a man that lacks the sensitivity that she told me you had. My mother loved a mad man. This is what drove her insane, the thought you were actually good. Now she doesn't even know my name. She doesn't even know what month it is-"

"What are you talking about," he hissed, gripping her arm. Lauren wretched it back, jutting her elbow out as if to hit him.

"My mother lives in Saint Claire's! She has lived there for the last 8 years, driven insane by your so called death! She loved you so much she went crazy! And you threw us away, like trash!"

Lauren spun, tears in her eyes and hit the elevator button. The doors opened easily and she climbed in, pressing the ground floor and never looking back.

Peter stood still in the room. It was like an ice bomb had frozen him still. He couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it. Olivia would forever be in constant fear. And it is all his fault.

Peter sank to the floor of his oversized pent house and cried, feeling as if the universes were much too small.

next chapter: Peter's tell all. a flashback to what really happened between Peter and our Olivia.