By the time the officers had finished their tedious interrogation it was well into the afternoon. After shutting the door behind them, Olivia sulked over to one of her kitchen chairs and flopped down, mentally depleted. Her eyes fell over her and Peter's now cold pancake breakfast, but surprisingly, she no longer felt hungry. The cops' questions had been even more intrusive and elaborate than the doctor's, forcing her relive every last excruciating second of the assault. When she felt Peter's hands on her shoulders, she nearly fell off her seat in alarm.

"Hey, it's just me," He soothed, lightly attempting to massage her anxieties away.

About halfway through the inquisition Peter could tell Olivia was getting stressed, but she pushed through, like she did with everything else. He prayed each question would be the last, but there was always another one. The only thing he could do was clench his teeth and hold her hand while she recreated her horrible nightmare.

"Do you want to eat now? The food just needs to be heated up."

Olivia shook her head robotically, the ability to speak completely eradicated. She was relieved the questioning was over, but had no idea that it'd leave her this hollowed out. She felt numb and listless, wanting nothing more than to curl up in her bed and hide under the covers, surrounded by darkness.

Peter moved to the chair next to her to look into her eyes, but that brilliant sparkle he loved so much had disappeared entirely. All that was left was a dark emptiness that made him feel heartbroken and terrified at the same time. That bastard was going to spend the rest of his days behind bars— Peter was going to make sure of it.

"Olivia?" He spoke warily, willing her to look at him with an inkling of emotion or recognition. "Are you okay?"

She could see the concern in Peter's eyes and hear it in his voice, but it didn't comfort her or make her feel safe like it had only hours before. Instead, it made her feel weak. She deeply appreciated everything Peter had done for her, but she was tired of being babied. She needed Peter and her colleagues to see her as the fearless leader, not some helpless infant that needed someone to take care of her every basic need. It was time to put on her big girl panties and move on. She forced her best phony smile and nodded.

"I'm fine," She assured, glad her capability of speaking had returned. "I'm just a little tired. I think I'm going to take a nap."

"Okay, I'll just hang out until you wake up."

Olivia shook her head. "That's okay, Peter. You can go home. Thanks again for everything." Standing up, she started to walk towards her room.

"Olivia, hey, wait!" Peter called, trailing behind her. Olivia turned and looked at him emotionlessly. "Talk to me."

Olivia sighed and looked at the wall. "I just want to be alone."

Peter didn't know what to say. Just a few hours ago she'd nearly had a breakdown when he tried to leave her, and now she wanted to be alone? Confused didn't even begin to describe what he felt.

"Liv, I don't understand. Why do you want to be alone all of a sudden?"

"Peter, I—" Olivia stammered. She didn't know what to say without hurting his feelings, but lying to him was pointless. He could see right through her. Taking a deep breath, she brought her gaze back to his. "I'm ready to move on from this. I don't want or need to be taken care of."

Peter opened his mouth to protest, but shut it in defeat. He knew there was no sense in arguing with Olivia Dunham. She got over things by propelling forward without looking back, and that was exactly how she was going to treat this. As badly as he wanted to be with her and take care of her for once, it just wasn't going to happen.

"Alright, I understand. Just—just please call me if you need anything. Anything at all."

"I will. Thank you, Peter," she smiled warmly, caressing his upper arm and then turning towards her bedroom.

Peter watched her until she closed her bedroom door, leaving him standing there feeling powerless. Up until the cops came they'd been having such a great time, the kiss they'd almost shared still very present in his mind. The electricity between them had been magic and undeniable, and he knew without a doubt that she'd felt it, too. He'd been so sure that she was finally allowing herself to open up to him, to let herself feel all of the love he had to offer. But he'd been wrong. Turning, he walked slowly out of Olivia's apartment, the door closing with a definitive click.

Olivia stood before herself in a mirror, dressed in only her bra. She'd been planning on taking a shower, but couldn't bring herself to take off her last undergarment. When she'd taken off her pants and laid eyes on the little bruises between her thighs, all of the horrible memories came rushing back, relentlessly taking her breath away. She knew without a doubt that when she removed her bra, there'd be bruises on her breasts, as well.

She hated admitting it, but without Peter, she was abnormally paranoid. Even the slightest shift or crack of her home made her heart feel like it was cannonballing out of her throat. Each time she became frightened, Olivia would close her eyes and tell herself to get over it, that she was a Fringe agent and could handle anything that came her way. It seemed to help— that was until she heard another sound and had to start the process over again.

Turning away from the mirror, Olivia unhooked the clasp of her bra and reached into the tub to turn the shower on. She kept her hands draped across her sore breasts in an attempt to keep them hidden from her own gaze. When the steam of the blazing water finally enveloped her small bathroom, obscuring her clarity of vision, Olivia removed her arm from her chest and stepped into the shower.

As the scalding water hit her skin, Olivia was unable to mask a pleasured moan. Ever since Peter had rescued her from the hotel she'd felt dirty, still able to feel the stinging burn of Daniels hands and mouth on her body. It felt unworldly to finally wash him from her skin, since there was nothing she could do to wash him from her mind.

She could mask his presence, yes, but underneath it all, he was still there. She'd do her best to lock him up inside a recluse place in her mind, but he always managed to find his way back to her consciousness. She'd see his face in a random pattern on the ceiling, hear his voice in the howling wind outside, get unexpected whiffs of his musty cologne. He was everywhere— haunting her and impeding her attempts to continue on with her normal life.

Olivia was fully aware it hadn't even been a day since her assault, but she'd expected herself to be capable of moving on from this quicker than most people. Hell, she'd nearly died in a car accident that left her in a coma, and she was up and walking almost as soon as she'd woken up. Getting over this should be a breeze, right? That's what she assumed, but the reality was that she'd never felt so scared and vulnerable in her entire life.

The main reason she was so on edge was because she knew she'd have to see his face one more time at the trial. Until he was put away, this whole thing was still open and unresolved, making it impossible for Olivia to completely remove him from her mind. What if the hearing didn't happen for a year, or possibly even longer? She didn't think she'd be able to handle feeling like this for much longer, let alone for 365 days.

Stepping out of the shower, Olivia reached for a couple of towels to wrap around her hair and body. She made her way to the kitchen to find something to eat, even though she still wasn't hungry. She knew if she didn't get something in her stomach soon she'd probably start hallucinating, and she didn't want to find out what those hallucinations would be of. Searching through her cupboards, she found a box of cherry Poptarts and took one of the foil packages out.

Olivia took a seat at her kitchen table and picked at the crust of the pastry, noticing for the first time that Peter had cleared the table of their breakfast. Her heart began to ache as she recalled the hurt and confusion in his eyes when she'd told him to go home, but she didn't regret her decision.

Sure she was paranoid and afraid without him by her side, but she couldn't put Peter on a leash and take him wherever she pleased until the trial was over. She needed to get through this on her own, needed everyone to keep seeing her as a daring leader.

After eating half of a Poptart, Olivia decided her battered mind and body needed some sleep, and was looking forward to escaping the cruelty of the world for a few short hours. Closing her blinds and curtains and crawling under the covers, Olivia shut her eyes and did her best to think of happy thoughts as she dozed…

Olivia was running in a nearly pitch-black alleyway between two brick buildings, wheezing as she dodged and jumped to avoid broken crates and various pieces of garbage. She was only wearing her undergarments, her gun missing from its usual place on her hip. Something was chasing her, something big and dark and menacing. She ran and ran towards the light at the end of the alley, but its brightness seemed to fade away with every step she took. Her sides felt like someone was stabbing knives into her body, her lungs and heart throbbing in exhaustion. There was no way she could go much longer.

Abruptly, she lost her footing and stumbled to the damp cobblestone, bloodying her entire body as she painfully skid across the ground. Before she could muster enough energy to make it to her feet, something was pinning her legs and arms to the ground. She screamed and fought to free herself but it was no use. Whatever was on top of her was much stronger than she was.

Olivia daringly watched the creature move above her as its shadowed face moved closer and closer to hers. Soon its hot breath was on her mouth, her cheeks, her neck, moving down until it was between her breasts.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Olivia cried.

The thing stilled above her, then laughed wickedly as its hand came over her mouth and nose, hindering her breathing. She thrashed around wildly and felt herself becoming lightheaded, on the verge of passing out.

Vacantly she felt its breath next to her ear:

"Revenge," It hissed viciously, putting its full weight into smothering her.

Right before everything went black, Olivia saw his sneering smile shining in the darkness.

Daniel.

Olivia shot straight up in bed, gasping as if she'd just run a full-blown marathon. She was drenched in sweat, as well were her pillows and sheets. She looked around frantically trying to figure out where she was, finally realizing she was in her room. She took a deep, shuttering breath, thankfully grasping the fact that it'd all just been an awful nightmare.

Her shaky hand reached for her bedside lamp and turned it on, her room illuminating with a soft, orange glow. The clock read 2:04 AM—she'd been asleep for 10 whole hours.

Although she knew it'd just been a bad dream, Olivia was absolutely petrified, like a child convinced there was a monster under her bed. What if her nightmare had been a premonition— what if Daniel really was coming after her for revenge? What if he'd escaped from the authorities and Olivia's Corteixiphanic abilities were trying to warn her?

Olivia darted for her phone on the nightstand, sending it flying across the room in her eagerness.

"Shit," she cursed, fumbling out of bed and dropping to her hands and knees to search for her mobile. When she finally found it under her dresser, she tried to dial Peter's number, but her hands were trembling too violently. She cried out in exasperation and pressed the 'Send' button, hoping he was the last person she'd called.

Peter's name and number lit up the screen, and Olivia almost sobbed tears of joy as the ringing began.

Peter was sitting at his kitchen table with a freshly poured Red Russian in hand, his mind too jumbled to sleep. Just as he was about to bring the glass to his lips, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Who would be calling him at this hour on a Saturday morning? Pulling it out, he nearly dropped his drink when he saw Olivia's smiling face light up the screen. He hit the 'Answer' button so hard that his finger started to ache and brought it up to his ear.

"Olivia," He breathed. "Is everything okay?"

"Peter, I think Daniel escaped," She whimpered.

Peter was baffled. "What? Why?"

"I had a dream and he was chasing me and he pinned me down and wanted revenge and—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Olivia, calm down. There is no way he could've escaped."

"How do you know? Jones escaped from a maximum-security prison!"

"Liv, Daniel is not Jones. I know he hasn't escaped because besides being handcuffed to his hospital bed, I made sure he was surrounded 24/7 by guards and equipped with a traceable ankle-monitor."

"…You did?"

"I did."

Being a consultant with the FBI had its perks, especially when the woman he cared for so deeply was also Colonel Broyle's favorite agent. If Daniel tried to escape, he'd likely get shot in the head by several guards. Peter secretly hoped he'd attempt a break for it.

Hearing Peter's reassuring words made a significant amount of her fear dissipate. His voice was like a single red rose against all of the dark horrors of the universe, reminding her that there were still good things in the world. She gripped the phone with both hands and held it as close to her ear as she could.

"Will you keep talking to me?" She pleaded softly.

Peter stood up from his chair and walked to the sink, pouring his drink down the drain.

"Of course I will. Do you want to talk about your dream?"

"Not really."

"That's okay. Want to hear about what I found Walter doing when I got home?"

"Yes."

"So I open the door and there's Walter sitting on the floor, carefully placing dominos in a row. I am not kidding you Liv— dominos covered our entire living room and kitchen. Walter forced me to stand in the entryway for 20 minutes while he continued to make a trail, and then he beamed at me and pushed one of the dominos over. I swear it took a good 5 minutes for them to all fall down. The best part was the last one fell onto some sort of lever and sent a piece of candy flying across the room, where it landed perfectly in Walter's hands. He did all of that for a gumdrop."

Olivia giggled softly and leaned against the wall. "That sounds just like something Walter would do. How long did it take you to clean them up?"

"Around three hours. It would've taken less time, but Walter kept on stacking the dominos back up and pushing them down. There weren't dominos at St. Claire's, so he was thoroughly enjoying himself."

Walter never failed to make her smile. "Thanks for sharing that with me, Peter. I needed a laugh."

"Of course," Peter assured, laying on the sofa and staring at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine Olivia carefree and smiling, her sparkling jade eyes full of bliss. He wished more than anything that she never had to experience this horror. "How long did you sleep for?"

"10 whole hours. I guess I was more exhausted than I thought."

Peter wanted so badly to ask her if she'd eaten yet, but he knew it'd make her angry. He was extremely worried about her, though he pretended not to be as they chatted. Although their conversation was casual and light, he could tell that something was wrong, though she refused to disclose exactly what it was. Why was she so reluctant to open up?

"I'm glad you got some sleep. Do you feel a little better now?"

Though some of her fear was gone, Olivia still felt shaken by her nightmare, and knew Peter would be able to tell if she was lying. "Not really."

Peter sighed. "Olivia, I know it's late, but would you like me to come over? Just two friends that can't sleep hanging out, that's all."

"Yes," Olivia blurted before her mind could talk her heart out of it. Just this one night she would let Peter comfort her. Just this one night she'd let herself be weak. That's it.

Peter knew it'd been a long shot asking if he could come over, and was stunned beyond belief when she actually said "yes."

"I'll be there in 15."

He jumped up from the couch and left a small note for Walter so he wouldn't get another anxious call, and then made a beeline out the door.