A/N : hey everyone! Here is the next-to-last chapter, the last one should be posted as soon as I'm done writing it, correcting it, rewriting it, etc. I don't want it to end!
Olivia woke up feeling well rested, something she wasn't used to since weeks. Burrowing her head into the pillow, she fought back consciousness, relishing in the comfortable state when one was not asleep but not yet awake. Sighing contently, she wrapped her arms around her extra pillow, intending to sleep a few more minutes before the day would claim its right.
She took the time to concentrate on what she was feeling, enjoying the simple fact that she was sleeping in a bed, wrapped in clean, soft sheets. Her pillow felt different, more firm, but then, after months away, her memories might have been altered. However, her pillow had never moved beforehand, nor had it cuddled her.
Sitting up, she was more or less forced downward by a strong arm wrapped around her waist, warm fingers tentatively touching the skin of her back. Peter. The previous events came to her in a flash; the new case; the lab exploding; Peter and her quarantined in the lab office; the fight; the poisoning, Peter almost dying; another fight; them sharing the couch for the night. Her using his shoulder as a pillow. Them being more or less tangled on the couch, Olivia resting half-sprawled on Peter.
Attempting to sit up again, she unfortunately bumped her elbow into Peter's chest, waking him up.
"Sorry." She whispered. Nuzzling her neck, he sighed contently, strengthening his hold on her, his other arm finding its way around her waist. "'sokay."
Olivia was paralyzed, perched on her arm, hovering above Peter, the blanket still covering them. Attempting to move for the second time, her movement finally woke Peter. His eyes opened slowly, a soft smile playing on his lips as he caught a glimpse of her. Her hair was cutely messy, creating a curtain as she was looking down at him, her eyes two big green orbs.
Taking in their position, he let go of her, straightening as best as possible against the back of the couch. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I-"
"It's okay." She brushed her bangs back on her head and fixed her shirt, which as inched up as she had quickly moved to sat at the far end of the sofa. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes, trying to glance at her discreetly.
The annoying ring of the phone finished to rouse them from their sleep. Peter was quicker to grab the offending object, answering the call.
"Son! How are you doing this morning?" Not letting time to answer, Walter went on. "I have good news, the FBI is sending a team to clean the laboratory!" Peter could hear the smile in his old man's voice. "Agent Broyles is here also, and advises for you and Olivia to wait until all is cleared." Peter rolled his eyes. Of course, once they were free to leave the cramping office, they would have to go to the hospital for a full checkup. Both wanted to take a hot shower, have a few drinks and hide away in their room, keeping the world away. Unfortunately, as Walter kindly reminded them, they still had a case to solve.
Peter finished the phone call with him father only to find Olivia making coffee, and grabbing the few pastries left in the fridge. He silently looked at her offering hand, Gene's food nicely put in front of him, and didn't dare say anything when he saw the look in Olivia's eyes.
"Thanks". He took a bite and she smiled, her eyes not leaving his frame.
"What is it?" wiping his mouth in a paper towel, he pulled a chair and sat down.
"It's just…" swirling the black liquid in her mug, she took a sip. "I'm glad you're okay." Nodding, he took a sip of the burning coffee, welcoming the sweet ache on his tongue.
"Me too. I thought I was going to lose you again." She looked in his eyes then, without pretense, without disguise. Her smile had faded, a light frown appearing on her brow.
"You won't lose me, Peter." Thinking back to their last conversation, he fervently hopped she was right. "I need time, to process everything." Cradling the cooling mug between her hands, she explained. "I won't lie to you, Peter; this is hard." He blew on his drink, keeping his eyes on her. "I can't help but think about her; about what you had with her, that we never will." His heart was slowly breaking, tiny fissures running up its structure. Was she saying there was no chance for them, ever?
"Whatever happened with her…" Her voice broke; she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Whatever happened with her, you'll keep the memories; they'll pop up in your mind at random times, and-" Shaking his head, he carefully placed his now empty mug on the desk, silently.
"We can – we will have our own history. What happened when you were missing, it means nothing, Liv." He insisted. "Nothing." Nodding, she grabbed the carafe, pouring them another coffee. It was strange, how calm and open she was feeling, both opening their heart to each other. Maybe the poison was still running in their veins. Maybe the confined air lacked oxygen, making them less guarded.
"I understand you need time. I do, too. I'm not sure I'll be able to forget everything, let alone forgive myself." She was surprised to read guilt over his face, his grown beard giving him a somber look. Clearing her throat, she opened her mouth to answer, only to be interrupted by a loud bang at the main door, a dozen of gas mask wearing persons entering the lab.
Sighing, he got up, emptying his mug in the sink, throwing the leftovers in the trash. Olivia swallowed the last of her coffee and rinsed the cup under the tap, letting it upside down to dry on a towel. They quickly cleaned the room, folding the blanket, making a neat pile of the victims' files. Waiting for the cleaning team signal, they finally exited the room, walking toward the sunlit stairs. Side by side, they exited the building, inhaling the fresh morning air, ready to face whatever the day had in store for them.