A/N: this chapter is set a few days after the last chapter. But the flashbacks are set at the end of the events in the last chapter. (hope it makes sense)

November 2012 part two

Olivia woke like she had every night since.

Screaming.

Her hair would be stuck to her forehead, her face wet from either tears or sweat or both. And no one knew what to do about it. Peter would comfort her as best he could. Hold her as she slept, as she cried. But in the end she didn't talk.

She didn't respond to Ashley's cries anymore. Peter and John took care of her, trying to get Olivia to feed her, hold her, but she just looked at them, scared to hold her baby daughter.

Peter never found out what really happened to her. But something scared her enough that she retreated from her own daughter, like she was contaminated.

*FLASHBACK*

Peter's entire body was in overdrive. His feet pounding on the pavement, running full force towards the bank vault. Charlie was seconds behind him.

All Peter could think about was what he would do to that sadistic son-of-a-bitch once he got his hands on him. 'Castrate him? Just shoot him? Olivia would probably want a turn too, let her burn him maybe?' he thought.

They found Ella first. She was in tears, her arm bruised from banging on the vault door. She ran into Charlie's arms in hysterics. There were no lights in the vault. In pitch black with rotting corpses, flesh, and blood. That was nothing a child should experience.

Peter went frantic. Searching every room. Every corner. Every dark place in the bank before finding them.

Olivia looked like she'd been through a war. Her hair was dishevelled, her shirt ripped open, revealing her bra and breasts. She was covered in dirt like she'd been rolling on the dirt floor. Blood covered just about every inch of her body.

"It's not all mine." Was all she said.

She stood, her legs barely holding her up. She held a lead pipe in one hand, a bloody lead pipe.

It clattered to the floor.

George lay in a bloody heap on the floor. His body contorted and bent in ways Peter could only guess was from the lead pipe hitting him.

To one side of the room were several butcher knives, carving knives. Peter could only guess that they were what made the several large cut marks down her stomach and over one arm. Along with the cuts, she had several bite marks. On her neck, arms, stomach. The one above her breast made Peter red with anger. He was glad Olivia had offed him, otherwise he would have made it as painful and long as he could just for doing that to her.

When they returned to the lab, Olivia walked mechanically to the corner and sat down. Charlie was carrying Ella who had stopped crying. Charlie cooked what he could and she ate it eagerly. But whenever Charlie stood to leaver, she would clutch at him and start crying again.

Taking one look at Olivia, Peter knew he had to get her clean and fix up her wounds.

He ransacked random piles of random things searching for the dress Olivia wore while she was pregnant. It wasn't warm, but it was clean.

"Did we find any medicine's on our last trip out?" Peter asked, directed at no one in particular.

"There's some Neosporin. Not much though." John called out, holding up the little tube.

"Good enough. Can you find me any clean clothes? I'm gonna try and get her cleaned up. Just put them on the bench in the showers. Thanks John." Peter said and asked this all at once, all the while moving Olivia out of the lab towards the showers.

The showers were small. Only 2 cubical. They weren't meant for everyday use. Only for the one or two students, or teachers who had spent the night studying or grading papers.

Olivia just stood there, motionless, as Peter slowly peeled Olivia's bloody clothes off her, throwing them into a corner.

Peter stripped to his boxers before guiding her under the cold spray of the shower. Hot water was a luxury long forgotten.

"Peter?" he heard John call out.

"Yeah. Over here." Peter stepped out of the cubical, keeping it so Olivia had her privacy. She sank down the shower wall, curling in a ball on the floor. Her cuts bleed as her body bent

"Only find 4." John handed him the cloths. He peered at the stall. "How is she?"

"Honestly? I don't know. She isn't talking, she just moves as she's told. And don't know what he did to her, John! I don't know what to do to help!"

"Well, get her clean, let her sleep. Might be better in the morning." John gave him a half-hearted smile as he left the bathroom.

"Yeah."

He opened the shower door, stepping in. He helped Olivia to her feet.

"You okay, Liv?"

She looked at him blankly. "Yeah." It came out as a whisper.

"How bad are they?"

"They don't hurt. Not anymore." She smiled softly.

Closing her eyes, she tilted her head under the spray of cold water. Her skin rose with goosebumps.

Peter cleaned her as quickly as he could, cleaning out the wounds with one cloth. Once out of the shower. He used the spare cloths to dry them before slipping the dress over Olivia's head. It fit loosely around her thin frame. Despite having been pregnant not 2 months ago, she managed to return to her slim figure. Lack of proper food, all the running, the stress, must have taken its toll on her.

She slept soundly at first. Letting Peter wrap her up in blankets, letting him hold her. But even Peter's comfort didn't keep the nightmares away.

*END FLASHBACK*

That was only Peter's story. No one knew Olivia's. He had asked her and asked her over and over again, but each and every time she'd close up. Put up her walls and hideaway in the corner of her mind.

Ella did the same. She would have nightmares about the dead bodies. She didn't go through what the others could only guess Olivia had, but no child should see that. Ever.

In the end, guessing was all they could do.

A/N: Okay, so I love reviews, who doesn't these days?