A/N: okay so some of you may not have realized, but I really don't like John, I kinda wrote him as the bad guy in this chapter (sorry to any John Scott fans).

Chapter Four

January 2012

It had been nearly a month since Dylan was found. He was the last. The screams in the night had nearly stopped, becoming one or two every few weeks. Broyles and John doubled up during night shifts, two people armed to the teeth made everyone else feel much safer. In fact, they hadn't heard much from the creatures in several days. The occasional one would pass by, but nothing compared to the shrieks and howls from a few weeks ago.

Dylan was still terrified of the dark, but was more confident in going outside. But he was careless. Walter mentioned to Broyles and Charlie that he may be depressed. No teenager (well, no one) should witness the murder of their friends. Walter was right. No one knew what to do, Astrid did her best to keep him happy, and as the youngest (besides Ella) she connected better with him. They all were waiting for him to crack.

It was Astrid's idea that they all go outside. Everyone had been couped up in the lab, no freedom, no privacy, and god-knows everyone needed some alone time, without the watching eyes of eight other people.

Peter and Olivia took Ella to a nearby park. The swings were rusty and creaked unnervingly when Peter and Olivia took up seats, but the slides were undamaged. Peter had checked their stability before Ella had her fun.

Dylan had followed them, unsure of what to do, he walked around in sight of them and the lab. He looked up when the young girl started laughing uncontrollably. The blonde women, Olivia, her fallen off the swing, landing in a heap in the sand.

Dylan couldn't help the sadness flood through him. Watching as Peter pulled her up, her standing between his legs and kissing him passionately. He would never have that. He would never know what love felt like, what it was like to be held by the one person who you had given your heart too. All of his friends, his family, everyone he ever knew had died, or were soon to be. He may have felt comfortable outside, but he knew. He knew deep down that they too will die eventually. But when? How long where they to wait for death? he started walking away. Find an alley, a place where no one can see me. He was content, nothing would change his mind.

Peter and Olivia hadn't noticed Dylan's aimless walking. And too caught up in themselves to notice a spiteful John watching from a distance.

POPOPOPOPOP

It had started off as two men yelling at each other. Well, mainly John screaming at the top of his lungs at Peter.

They stood a few metres from the entrance to Harvard. Astrid had taken Ella back to the park while the 'adults' (they sure as hell weren't acting like adults) dealt with the situation.

"Your fault. His death is on your head!" John's face was red, exploding with rage.

"He wondered off. How were we supposed to know that he was suicidal?" Peter replied coolly, his voice remained normal, never raised. He didn't want to start a fight. They all needed each other to survive.

"We all knew he was depressed. If you had been keeping an eye on him like you were supposed to, instead of eye-fucking with Olivia, he would still be alive."

Peter and Olivia finally caught on to John's hidden motives for his starting this fight.

Olivia walked up next to Peter, "So that's what this is about? Not Dylan's death, but because I kissed Peter?" she knew that with no privacy, they couldn't hide from John. It was inevitable.

John couldn't hold back his anger. It had started as a fight voer Dylan's death, but as John's rage built he exploded. John did what he had to do, terrorists and all. He expected Olivia to understand, she always did what she had to do to get something (though it was usually a case, but in John's mind terrorists and cases were one and the same). He had lost Olivia, but how was a nomadic-jack-of-all-trades son-of-a-loony any better? John was angered that Peter made her happy. Olivia had a heck of a poker face. She always said she was happy, had she been lying? Had he never made her truly happy like she is with Peter?

Peter added on to Olivia's question, "When did this become about us? What, you can't have Olivia, so neither can anyone else?" Peter raised his voice, he was angry too. All John had wanted since Olivia left him was to get her back. Being trapped with her made it that much easier for John, but more annoying for Olivia and Peter.

"You don't deserve her!" John spat,

The two men were now only a foot apart, steam bursting from John's ears, Peter's face slightly red.

"I'm better then you. I make her happy, I make her laugh. I'd never do anything to hurt her." Came Peter's reply.

John threw the first punch. Peter staggering back, his hand clutching his jaw. John approached him, ready for another. This one landed near his eye and temple. The third hit him in his nose. Peter threw one punch in the entire fight. The punch did exactly what Peter had hoped, caught him off guard, smacking him in the corner of his nose and cheek. He staggered backwards creating a space big enough for Olivia to intervene.

As John raged forward towards Peter again, Olivia pushed against his chest with all her force. He stopped looking at her.

"Stop it!" she yelled so both could hear,

Broyles, Charlie and Walter stood around them, watching, unsure of whether or not to intervene.

John watched to his horror as Olivia (to him) finally chose Peter over him. She took Peter by his hand, pulling him towards the lab to treat his wounds.

Inside the lab, Peter sat on the couch in the office, Olivia dabbing lightly at his eye and then his nose. Both were starting to bruise, and his nose would be sore for a few days.

His knuckles were scratched, the blood from his nose dried and his eye soon to be swollen.

"Your gonna have a shiner tomorrow." Olivia laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

Peter kept his head held low. She knew what was wrong.

She continued to clean off the blood and dirt as she spoke to him, "Dylan was unstable. We all knew it. No one could have know he was going to kill himself."

"He just . . . pulled the trigger." Peter spoke, "If we had kept a better eye on him, we'd have seen him walk away."

"Hey, no one could have known. Okay, you shouldn't feel guilt for something that you couldn't prevent."

"But I gave him the gun. Well, you saw how scared he was going outside. I gave him the gun so that he felt better, felt protected. I should have known better thent o give a weapon to a possibly-depressed-teenager." His head sunk lower to the floor.

Olivia moved so she was kneeling between his legs.

"Hey, you couldn't have know." She said reassuringly. She lifted his chin up to look him in the eyes. "I love you, Peter Bishop. Now tell me, am I in love with a guilt ridden man or a man who managed to land a good punch on John?"

He smiled up at her, "I love you too." He leant up kissing her lightly, feeling the smile on her lips.

POPOPOPOPOP

"Hey, Liv?" Astrid called out to her. The lab was surprisingly quiet. Dylan was the one who made the most noise, always talking, trying to keep his sanity, but with him gone, a thick cloud of dullness hovered above the lab.

Charlie was sleeping, snoring loudly as usual, Walter was fiddling with several trinkets, trying to create something no-doubt, Ella was playing with Peter (Peter having found a surviving game of monopoly) John and Broyles outside scavenging as they did every day.

"Yeah, what's wrong?"

Astrid approached her, prepared to talk softly as to not wake Charlie or have Walter and Peter hear.

"Do you mind if I use the last tampon?" she asked guiltily.

"No." Olivia answered simply,

"No?" Astrid was confused. They had figured they were due in the same week, doubling up on supplies, but Astrid had used most, no all of them.

"No?" Olivia repeated, mostly for her sake, thinking it through.

She hurried off to the bathroom, she need to check. According to her 'period math' she was 2 weeks late. She had never been late. Always on time, every Wednesday. But there was nothing. No blood, not even a small trace to show it was on its way.

Astrid had offered to go with her outside to the surviving shopping centre, where they got most of their food, only leaving behind what they couldn't carry or what lasted longer (like tinned foods and heavier items).

They searched the aisles, looking for one thing in specific.

"Found it!" Astrid called from the aisle next to the one Olivia was searching through.

"Oh thank god!" Olivia took the small box, slipping it into her pocket.

Back at the lab, no one had noticed their departure.

In the bathroom, Olivia paced the length impatiently. Astrid propped against the door (mainly to stop the boys coming in since the men's bathroom had collapsed months ago).

"How long now?" she asked nervously.

Astrid checked her watch, "3 minutes."

It was the longest three minutes of Olivia's life. She glanced at teh small stick every few seconds, mentally demanding it to be negative, of only one line to appear. But sure enough, when the three-longest-most-agonising-minutes were over, there it was. Two pink lines.

She was pregnant.

A/N: okay so I know where this story is going, how it will end and all, but I'm not really sure what to write for the middle months after Olivia discovers she's pregnant and the events in the Preface. PLEASE review and leave suggestions cos I'm really into this story and eager to write as much as I can, but I want to write what you guys wanna read.