I am so very sorry for the delayed chapter! I had planned to update during the one week hiatus between 'Subject 13' and 'Os.' As you can see, things didn't quite work out. And now it's midnight, and I'm rewriting my author's note. Anyhow…

WOW. I was completely overwhelmed by the response for this last chapter. I had five reviews in my inbox within the hour or so after posting and seven reviews by the end of the day. And I didn't even remember to ask for any. Your responding means a lot to me and is much appreciated. So thanks, guys. :)

So here we are, Chapter 3. It's another one from a Peter/omniscient POV. I hope you all enjoy. And if you do feel so inclined, please do review. I hate to say it, but sometimes it does give me a little push in the right direction. A little motivation if you will. But I don't want to sound greedy. Perhaps it's best to just stop while I'm ahead.

DISCLAIMER: If I owned Fringe, you wouldn't be watching.

She looked so damn confused, it nearly broke his heart. He had to get out, he needed to leave. And now he was standing in the cold, dim hallway with Walter to his left. They mirrored each other, watching through the hospital window. It was all too quiet for his liking.

"What exactly do you propose we do, Walter?" Peter scowled, using the angry tone to mask the terror in his voice. "How could this have happened?"

Walter refused to meet his eyes and instead focused his attention on the woman in the hospital who was currently examining the blond tresses of her hair as if they were strange, foreign objects. And Peter supposed that to her mind right now, they were.

"Walter, tell me what's going on."

The tense silence stretched for a few uncomfortable seconds more before his father began ever so gently, "Son…how much did Agent Dunham tell you about the events that occurred while she was trapped in the alternate universe?"

He sighed, running a hand through his already tousled hair. "Well, we haven't exactly been on the best speaking terms these past few weeks." He failed to keep the bark out of his voice. "I skimmed over her brief. I know that she was brainwashed into believing that she was her alternate." Damn, reading that had really thrown him for a loop. It was just as he thought he couldn't possibly feel any guiltier.

"But she was not just brainwashed, Peter." Walter's widened and his hands went into familiar, wild gestures. "Fauxlivia's memories were implanted into her mind. Now, miraculously, Agent Dunham was able to overcome the memories and regain her own, but how this was possible is still a mystery to me."

Of course she was able to do so. She was really a living, breathing phenomenon. He'd heard the gist of that information, but not directly from Olivia. He paused to wonder about when she had become so chummy with Walter. "So we're talking some sort of relapse?"

Walter shook his head. "It might not be that simple, I'm afraid. If Olivia was able to overpower the memories against all odds before, it seems quite odd that they'd resurface again…to this extent."

It was time to speak his innermost fear. "And there's no way that this could be another trick? That this isn't their Olivia coming to pull the proverbial wool over our eyes for a second time?" Deep down, he already knew the answer to that question.

It was too late anyway. Walter was already walking away, afraid to answer any more inquiries; inquiries that sounded suspiciously like accusations. He let out a breath and turned back to the window to discover that Olivia was now the one observing him, inspecting him. She noticed that he'd caught her staring, but she didn't look away. She held his gaze with unmatched confidence. The Olivia Dunham he'd known for nearly three years was nowhere to be found. What remained was just a shell, housing a soul that could never belong.

In mere moments, he was on the opposite side of the window once again, easing the door shut with a gentle click. He couldn't will himself to go any farther and leaned back into the door pane with an anxious sigh. Suddenly, her irritated voice cut through the uneasy silence and straight through his heart like a jagged blade.

"What the hell?"

Peter couldn't find his voice to answer her. Besides, what could he answer? It's not likely that she would believe him even if he did tell her truthfully what had happened. Of course, he wouldn't blame her. Despite having spent years of his life as a con man, he couldn't remember experiencing a situation that was as uncomfortable as this. Not even in those moments where he had a gun placed to his temple and a gang of thugs surrounding did he feel so unsure. No, this was a whole 'nother kind of torture.

"Bishop, what the hell is this?" She spit out his name like it was the dirtiest kind of curse word. Although her tone was full of fire, her green eyes were icy as if windows into a frozen soul.

She'd put on such a cool façade. The shock of her words was like a smack in the face. It would have hurt more had he not already been struggling to hold the bloody halves of his heart together. The Olivia Dunham he'd spent the last several years with was a lot of things, but never cold. She couldn't put on such a steely defense. She was too…damaged. Not fragile or weak, just…haunted. He recalled that was the word he'd used to describe her to her alternate back then. He'd been such a fool.

"They'll find me, you know, my partners. Might as well face the inevitable and start giving me some answers."

He looked at her, hoping to convey his bare-naked honesty, "And what if I don't know the answers?"

She gave an exasperated sigh. The ice in her eyes seemed to thaw a bit to his relief. Was he relieved? Maybe that wasn't the right word. Perhaps 'slightly less discomforted' would be more appropriate. Her voice once again broke through his inner musings, "How about a location then?"

Ah, simple enough. He conceded. "Massachusetts General." He could sense another unasked query blooming. "You fainted…went into a coma, actually."

"And you were involved in this because…?"

This is where things would start to get complicated. "Please," he started unsurely, "Give me a few minutes to formulate an appropriate response to that question."

"An appropriate response?" she suspiciously shot back, "Or an appropriate lie?"

Peter let out a dark chuckle. It was instinctive, really. He couldn't stop the incoming retort. "Since when has a lie ever been considered appropriate?"

Her shadowy tone of voice matched his. "I don't know, Mr. Bishop. You tell me."

He was beginning to see, now, why Olivia's alternate and he had gotten along so well together. They were so very alike in some natures. Their relationship was easy, predictable. But he didn't want easy, Peter reminded himself. He wanted Olivia back. No one deserved this, least of all her. Whatever it takes, a more primal, protective voice in his head growled.

"You'd never believe the truth," he admitted. There was the eyebrow raise again. Good Lord, he was never going to get anywhere with her.

"Try me."

Thanks for reading! And once again, sorry for the length of time between this chapter and my last update. In a perfect world, this story would be completed before the season finale. No promises, but I will have some extra free time now that Spring Break is upon us.

Don't forget to review on your way out. Please? Olivia implores you with the power of ten thousand toasts.