Epilogue: Prelude to Destiny

A/N: So here we are at the end of it all. I'm glad that I've finally been able to finish this story after working on it for over a year and half.

Thanks to Uroboros75 for the beta work, and for all your help on this fic :)

Music: May the Best World Win – Chris Tilton (Fringe Season 3 Soundtrack)

Disclaimer: I've said it before and I'll say it again: I do not own Fringe or the characters; I'm just borrowing them for a little while.

Zeppelins prowled through the bleak grey skies as the Secretary of Defense observed the shifting hours from his office on Liberty Island. Waves ripe with fury smashed against the shoreline, sending an ivory spray skywards; the wind screamed through the trees, bowing them over in obedience.

A moment passed, and Walter resigned himself to his desk, his perch of authority. He plucked his copy of ZFT – his manuscript of censorship – from where it lay and held it in his hands. What was it that made the universe so inextricably complex, so temperamental, that it would choose to have things unfold for the best, and in the very next instant, have them turn for the worst? What factor had been the catalyst inciting this reaction and turning his life into an entropy production line?

He skimmed his fingertips along the spine of the book, the embossed lettering grazing the skin. He was not a man to be discouraged, but in some instances he found it necessary to examine defeat in minute detail, so as to learn where things went wrong. Staring at the cover, he searched for a reason, trying to understand why those he had assumed were so close to him had chosen to ally themselves with those who were responsible for so much of the devastation that plagued this universe.

Peter was beyond his grasp now, as well as his protection, but from Walter's perspective he had barely ever been under that jurisdiction; Peter had long ago chosen his side. As for Elizabeth, his console, his friend, his wife; Walter had chosen to have her confined to the house, for her own safety as well as others. He was no stranger to the rumours that ran rampant through the streets like wild dogs, and word of Elizabeth's actions could reach unfriendly ears all too easily. It was also a necessity, now that Elizabeth knew of many of the events that had transpired; she would naturally want to interfere, but he could not allow that.

Nature must be allowed to take its course, and as long as this universe survived, Walter intended to see that through.

There was guilt associated with his work, guilt just as many professions demanded a person to bear, but upon further reflection he wondered if it was worth it.

The guilt in question was rooted in his resolve to sacrifice his very own son in order to save his world.

To some, it might have seemed like an obvious choice, as the scales were tipped wildly out of balance, but to Walter, it was not as simple. He thought first of this world, which he had sworn to protect against the malicious decay wreaking havoc on the lives of the innocent. But then he thought of Peter as a child, with the innocent gaze that he'd missed so much over those years, and the large blue eyes full of curiosity. If it weren't for Peter's sudden shift in allegiance, he would wonder how he could allow such innocence to be ripped from the world, but there are more innocent lives that never received the chance to open their curious eyes.

Control had slithered away from his hands for a time, but he had managed to grasp that sliest of serpents once more, and with the Machine still in his possession, he had regained some of his confidence. Though the primary schematics had been pilfered – by his prodigal son, no less – Walter had spare copies manufactured long ago. His primary concern now was to ensure that Peter and his companions could not make use of them.

He had many eyes and ears on the Other Side; it was time to make use of them.

A universe away, a timer rang as a pie finished baking in an oven.

Music hummed in the background from a radio that had seen better days. Astrid Farnsworth set the fresh apple pie on the counter to cool. Walter dashed in a moment later with a look of great intent on his face.

"Walter," Astrid chided as she blocked his path to the pie. "That has to cool first."

Discouraged, Walter turned back to the nearly bare table and sighed. Upon its surface lay the schematics for Walternate's device, of which his son was a central component. Covering a larger portion of the blueprints were notes, scribbles and scrawls of random thoughts that Walter had jotted from time to time. With a sense of defeat though, it occurred to him that he may not be able to form a complete hypothesis about his son's connection to this machine until he learnt more about the machine itself, and the schematics painted a picture that was sorely lacking in detail.

He would need Peter's skills and knowledge in order to unlock the mysteries of this disturbing piece of technology, and what its true purpose was.

"Walter," Astrid asked gently. "You alright?"

"Yes," Walter replied slowly, his eyes fixed on the schematics. "Yes, I'm fine, dear."

Astrid knew that his statement was farthest from the truth, but she could help but do what she always did; she tried to make whatever was troubling him disappear.

"Come, Walter," she said. "I think there's a cartoon or two we could watch while we wait for the pie to cool."

Walter smiled and turned away from the schematics. "Very well," he said with a nod. "Though I do wonder when that cunning rabbit will at last make the correct turn to Albuquerque."

Astrid answered with a laugh as they both left the kitchen, the schematics falling into scissions of shadow cast by the setting sun as it seeped through the window.

Walter and Astrid were not aware that others had been watching them.

Three of them monitored the Bishop residence from across the street, each with their own impeccable fedoras and onyx suitcases. December, whose expression had been fixed in concern, spoke first.

"It would seem that events did not transpire as planned," he said.

March, his current right hand, answered. "Even with our intervention, Olivia Dunham has returned to this universe, along with the Boy."

July, who was entering a sequence of characters into his communicator, spoke next. "The disruption the Boy is causing cannot be allowed to progress unopposed. If our abilities are revealed, we will all face great risk. What course of action do you recommend?"

For moments, he observed the house, entrenched in thought.

"Summon September," he ordered.

And in the very next instant, they were gone.

Fin

Well that's all folks! Thank you to everyone for reading this story, and before anyone worries about the cliffhanger let me say: there will be a sequel. I do not know when, but one will be written.

Oh, and some final thoughts from you all would be lovely :)