Here's the second part. It's coming along quite nicely. Special thanks to wjobsessed for suggesting the next bit. It's not quite what you had in mind but I hope it's satisfying enough until the next chapter Enjoy! Feedback is appreciated.

***

She had held onto him longer than she knew she should have. His touch strangely comforting, relaxing, lulled her into a peaceful state though still awake. He'd soothed her with his simple touch. She didn't say a word, took comfort in his embrace and held on longer than necessary. He offered her not only strength and comfort but a longing for something she'd missed. A connection with another person. Human contact and though it was of the simplest form, a hug, it was Peter and that alone made it different.

"I still should get going---" she finally pulled back, knowing the excuse she'd given him, though an excuse still meant work had to be done. They were in Seattle for a reason and it had nothing to do with a nice long vacation.

Though deep down she wanted an escape. Even if it only meant going back to that other night when Peter had shown up at her door, wearing his MIT shirt. Why couldn't she have changed things that night? Why had she been afraid to act on impulse? She knew why. Always thinking rationally. Always playing by the rules and being ever so careful about getting hurt. It was the physical hurt but the emotional she couldn't deal with. She'd suffered enough of it lately. Wasn't it time for things to change? For her to be happy?

She wanted to take his hand, lead him back to her hotel room and into the bedroom, do things with him she knew she shouldn't be thinking about. They were dirty thoughts, one's she hadn't had in months but having seen him in his pajamas, it was hard not to think about undressing him, seeing what was underneath. It also gave her hope, a sense of purpose in longing for something she couldn't have. She'd lost John, she'd lost Charlie and though they were two entirely different people, she wasn't ready to lose Peter. Fantasizing about him seemed safe. It was from a distance and he'd never have to know.

"Thank you," she finally breathed, her fingers finding his cheek, gently touching the stubble, "you don't have to worry about me, Peter."

Peter nodded slowly, his eyes boring into hers. "If you're sure." He didn't want to let her go but she seemed calmer, much more relaxed. The look in her eyes, the tears had long since vanished and that made him feel better that he'd been there, to help her. His hold on her loosened and finally dropped, instantly missing the warmth of her body. "You let me know if you need anything else, okay?"

She nodded slowly, giving him the faintest of smiles, "yeah, I will."

***

Her life truly seemed like a puzzle. It was no wonder Sam had called her, asked if she'd gotten the business cards and told her the next step in her process of healing. Sam was strange and his methods were highly unorthodox but they seemed to help. Right now, she was willing to do almost anything to erase the pain. The dull throbbing in her heart didn't seem to disappear. The man that was her friend was dead and it was because of her. She had no choice in killing him but the images in her mind, the nightmares she'd been having in the short durations of sleep during the night, were horrible. He was always the one choking her, killing her. She'd wake in a cold sweat, feeling as if she were dying yet again.

She knew Charlie was gone, long before she pulled the trigger. Not in the physical sense of time but the moments before as he tried killing her. The attack was brutal. She'd just recently healed from her trip to the other dimension. Now she had new wounds, physical and emotional that needed fixing. The bruises were fresh, the scars still healing with each passing day.

Hearing Sam's voice on the phone, telling her to "find the phrase," as he so eloquently put it when she wondered what the hell he was talking about, only further to confuse her. A phrase in a series of random business cards and she was to choose one letter from the first and last name at random. What were the possibilities there'd be any words at all from it? Eight names, that was sixteen letters. It was possible it might spell something but she doubted it. Sam was odd but predictable he was not. There had to be something else in all this. It had been that way with the bowling shoes. As it had never been about bowling at all.

She vaguely remembered asking him "what phrase, what am I looking for?" as her eyes glanced over the cards, circling the letters, doing as instructed. She felt crazy for falling into such nonsense, knowing Peter would think her clinically insane. She'd been through a lot, crazy was not a word she wanted to be defined as.

She could hear the echo, "whatever it is you need to hear. You'll figure it out. Gotta go." He hung up as quickly as the conversation had started. That was Sam, always elusive. Sometimes she wanted to scream at him, once she even raised her gun. There was something about him that irked her and yet she kept coming back. Maybe the fact it was easier to confide in a stranger than someone you care about? She wasn't sure that was true, she talked to Peter, had already but still---running out on him wasn't right either. At least he'd come after her. He was Peter. Giving her space until the point he knew she needed him. She didn't even have to say it.

When would this nightmare of her life ever end?

***

"The deeper the addiction, the more extreme the rift." Somewhere between hearing Walter on the phone, talking with Peter and driving the rental car she'd pieced it together. She wasn't certain but coming back to the hotel, seeing the handwriting similarities it all had clicked. This man, in some weird way reminded Olivia of her step-father. The fact he was an addict though to dreams and not liquor made little difference.

Explaining to Peter about her step-father had been easy. It was of the past and though it had been difficult in dealing with, she often times found herself speaking about it with little to no emotion. As if she were reciting something from a report she were reading---as though it wasn't her own story. She knew if a therapist had met with her, she'd probably be labeled as having some sort of detachment disorder.

She understood addiction. Not in the same way a doctor or scientist might but from experience. She knew what it did to people, how their personalities could easily be split. It had been her experiences, her emotion that made her a better agent but also helped solve the case. It was the lead that they hadn't expected, the one staring at them the entire time without a second thought.

She was relieved when they'd managed to end the chaos. Though one man was dead, another was alive. More catastrophes, more deaths would have occurred if she hadn't figured out the connection as quickly as she did. One nightmare was over, she wondered if hers could end as well. Was Peter right? Telling yourself you're not going to dream would in fact help you forget your dreams, even when you did have them? She'd have to give it time to see if it worked. If she was listening to Sam's crazy theories, the least she could do was take a chance on Peter's. Even if it wasn't advice for her, it still may have been sound.

She'd find out soon enough. It was time to head home. Back to Boston.

***

Coming back to the hotel, she called the airline to schedule their flight only to find out they'd missed the last one out for tonight.

"Great," she muttered beneath her breath feeling Peter's eyes on her as he sat perched at the edge of her bed. His bags were packed and he checked out of his room, waiting for her to make the final arrangements on their flight. Slamming the phone shut, she shook her head, "no flights out tonight."

"You're kidding," Peter sighed pushing himself off her bed. "First thing tomorrow morning?" He guessed. He hated early mornings but they'd have to make do.

"Yeah, we're booked for the morning. You might want to go down, see if you can get yourself another room."

"I can't just stay in here?" Peter joked moving off the mattress. "Is it okay if I leave my bag here while I try and get myself another room?"

"Yeah, sure," Olivia nodded. "Just knock when you come back up," she smiled lying down on the bed feeling exhausted she smiled watching him walk out of the room, her eyes moving over his body. Hearing the door close she exhaled a loud sigh. As grateful as she was to be going home, she'd had her first night of actual sleep since being here. She hadn't slept so well at home lately. She hated thinking she'd be going back to the stress of reality, of what her life had become—in Sam's words, "a nightmare."

She wasn't sure how long she had been lying there were her eyes closed when she heard Peter knocking on the door. "Just a sec!" She called sitting up and climbing off the bed, walking to the door. She opened it seeing his face red. "You okay?"

"No," he shook his head, "they already gave my reservation away!"

"Your room," she nodded slowly. "It's not a big deal. I'm sure they have other rooms available in the hotel?" She guessed.

"There's a wedding this weekend," he sighed, "you have the last room." Peter stared at her, "you're not going to make me sleep in the car, are you?" He was half-joking hoping she wouldn't suggest they try another hotel in the city. There were plenty of places but he didn't feel like driving all around town to find one with two open rooms.

"You're serious," she stared at him, letting him inside the room with her. He walked past her towards the couch, having a seat. "We can call around other hotels or just share this room." She offered with a shrug. "I honestly don't care." She paused glancing at him, "that's not true. I don't feel like going to another hotel but if you're not comfortable sharing a bed we can call around."

Peter tried to hide the smile growing on his lips. "You mean you're not kicking me to the couch?"

"I would but I really don't want to hear you complaining the entire flight home about how sore you are." She smiled letting her eyes meet his. "It's not a big deal. We're adults, I'm sure we can handle sleeping together."

A huge smile broke onto Peter's face. "Sleeping together, huh? Here I thought we were just sharing a bed."

"You are twisting my words," she laughed heading to the bathroom. "I'm going to get changed, brush my teeth, you just---stay out of trouble."

"Don't worry. I'm too tired to get myself into any." He offered a smile watching her grab her clothes from her bag she'd packed. He watched her walk to the bathroom closing the door behind her.

He wasted no time in changing to his pajamas, figuring she'd be a few minutes and he could get himself comfortable and settled into bed. He was more than surprised she offered to share the bed. It wasn't as though he wasn't used to sleeping on the couch. Though he had hoped those nights were over, he'd have made do with it tonight. Her offer though, surprised him. Not that he'd admit it to her.

A few minutes later she emerged from the bathroom. "It's all yours," she told him putting her clothes into her bag watching him on the bed. "You're on my side." She smiled gesturing for him to move over.

He opened his mouth to object, to make a remark about her lying there if she wanted but he wasn't moving. He opted against it, knowing he still needed to get up, brush his teeth, use the bathroom before bed. There was only so long he could hold out before he got too tired. As it was they had to be up early. "I'm moving," he nodded moving from the bed, "but I expect my spot back when I'm done."

"Don't hold your breath," she smiled watching him head for his bag, grab his toothbrush before walking to the bathroom. Olivia pulled back the covers, making herself comfortable. Stretching out on the bed she felt the warmth of the sheets beneath her from wear Peter had been lying. She let her eyes close momentarily as she yawned. Shifting she pulled the covers tighter, smelling him all over the sheets.

Peter stepped out from the bathroom, seeing her lying there, eyes closed beneath the covers. He shut off the light and walked around feeling the edge of the bed before finding the empty space, climbing in beside her.

"Night Peter," she breathed rolling onto her side, feeling the covers shift as he made himself comfortable. Her eyes opened watching him in the darkness.

"Goodnight," he smiled watching her, wanting to reach out, touch her, kiss her. All he could do was admire and let her sleep. He had this moment between them to enjoy and treasure. He watched her eyes close as she finally fell to sleep.