A/N: I apologize for the amount of time that has passed since the last update! I tend to get distracted not only by Real Life, but also by other stories that pop into my head and that I have to write. I'm going to try and and keep updating both my stories regularly, so this isn't very long, but any longer and it would have taken me 2 more weeks to write haha.

Thank you all so much for the reviews! I usually reply to everybody, but it's been like a month, and I feel a bit silly replying to something you surely don't even remember saying LOL But they are all deeply appreciated, be sure of it :)

CHAPTER THREE - AWAKENINGS

Peter

Peter loved the sight of her in his bed…even when he couldn't really see her at all, like now.

During the few minutes he had spent in the shower, she had entangled herself in the sheets in such a way that all he could see was her hair, still wet from her own shower, her face hidden in the blanket as well. As he unceremoniously dropped his towel –the only thing he had been wearing, and joined her in that cocoon of warmth she had created, he couldn't help but smile at how endearing she was without even trying. He pressed himself against her back, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her to him, not even feeling the slightest hint of guilt knowing she might have been falling asleep.

But he knew she wasn't as far gone as he initially thought when she rewarded him with a sound he loved to call the 'Olivia Purr' –in his head at least, her fingers finding his and intertwining them with hers. Pressing his lips upon her shoulder, he finally noted that she wasn't nearly as naked as he was.

"You know you're wearing my dirty shirt, right?" he asked softly in her ear, amused. He wasn't surprised; she tended to get cold so much more easily than him, which was why she always liked to wear some kind of clothing at night…snuggling under the blankets was nice, too.

"I love your dirty shirts…" she whispered a little sleepily, and he heard the smile in her quiet words. "They smell like you."

"Mmm…" he hummed against her shoulder blade, almost grinning now. "Nothing beat the smell of my sweaty body."

He felt her chuckle more than he heard it, now nuzzling his nose into the curve of her neck, and she tilted her head back, sniffing the air. "Clean Peter isn't too bad either."

And on those words, she turned in his arms, fully pinning herself to him, causing his entire being to vibrate at a low pulse, loving the feel of her skin against his and making him very aware of every inch of his body touching hers with the slightest moves . But the best contact of all was through their eyes, her face so close to his that her darkening irises were all he could see. Without a single word, she swiftly brought her face even closer, brushing his lips with hers, barely applying any pressure.

As her mouth teased him, her kisses almost shy, her hand started a slow descent on his chest, and she was being nothing but timid in her caress. Her fingers then became bluntly assertive, causing him to let out low groan against her lips, his own hands now working on bringing her closer, finding his way under the hem of her shirt and splaying his fingers into the soft curve of her back.

Their dance was languid, almost cushy, none of them in a hurry, knowing things would pick up in due time; for now, it was all about enjoying the slow build up, the growing fire, the soft sounds and burning breaths, with shivering flesh and rolling hips.

The change was sudden, unexpected, and unmistakable.

Olivia's touch became firm and unyielding, her nails digging into his skin to the point of being painful, and within seconds, he was on his back as she straddled him, her thighs circling him vigorously, all softness gone from her touch. She still rippled over him, her body both fire and ice, and he felt torn, his brain functions having considerably slowed down as endorphin flooded his blood, but he knew something was wrong, so very wrong.

He searched her face and she was grinning, too widely, too brightly, bangs that hadn't been there moments ago now falling over her eyes.

"No…" he choked out, trying to move from under her as consternation and something close to horror washed over him.

But she was moving against him again, and he was trapped, his body powerless under hers, ensnared in her web, and the more he tried to free himself, the more intoxicating she became, her hair darkening incredibly fast, and light blond became vibrant auburn as she started laughing, a laugh that was so unlike Olivia's that he would have screamed if he could have used his voice.

He kept on fighting though, pushing her away with all his strength, until suddenly, he was rolling off the bed; when he fell off the edge, he found himself standing fully dressed in front of the Machine.

It was gigantesque; he couldn't see the end of it, its metal dark and sinister, and he could almost feel the vibrations shaking every inch of it, until he realized that he was vibrating too, at the exact same frequency. Being so close to this monstrous thing filled him with trepidation and sheer terror, and yet, he felt inexplicably drawn to it, as if his very cells were magnets and it was pulling him forward. He extended a hand, wanting to run as far away from It as he could, but he needed to touch It, to just touch It, to make the yearning feeling in his blood disappear.

As his fingers brushed the cold, pulsating shell of the Machine, he heard a baby cry, and immutable forces pulled at his very core, propelling him violently into the air. He started to fall, faster and faster, and all he could see was Olivia's smile, that small smile that was just for him, and him alone.

He was going to hit the ground, and all of his bones would shatter within his flesh.

He didn't.

He fell through the frozen surface of the lake, and sank into its dark, icy waters. He fought again, fought to find his way back up, his limbs so heavy, so heavy, and the water was so cold, piercing his skin like burning needles.

And then his head was out again, and he was breathing, he was alive, fingernails scratching the ice as he tried to pull himself out of the water.

"Peter."

He stopped moving, raising his head to look at the figure that stood over him, holding a bundle of clothes in her arms. It was Olivia, he was sure of it. Which one, he couldn't tell, as she was wearing a hood that hid her hair and masked her eyes, and if only he could see her eyes, he would know, he would just know.

The bundle started to squirm, and it wasn't clothes at all. The baby started crying again, and the ice changed into sheets, smothering linens that enclosed him tightly, and they smelled of her, and of him, and just as he thought he was going to suffocate and die, he felt her hand on his face, and there she was, lying naked next to him, smiling softly.

In his hospital bed, Peter opened his eyes.

Olivia

More than once, Olivia found herself wondering if her Alternate wasn't simply pretending to be unconscious again so she wouldn't have to deal with them. If she were honest with herself, she would admit it was a smart move, a move she wouldn't have minded trying. But she was too antsy to even try and pretend anything right now, especially not unconsciousness.

She was getting extremely tired of the looks, though.

She had never liked being the receptor of someone else's pity, one way or another, which was definitely why so few people knew about her past –or present- misfortunes. As of today, Astrid had become particularly good at looking at her with empathetic eyes. It had started during the night, when she had come rushing into the hospital after hearing about Peter's injuries, up until a while ago, when Olivia had asked Astrid if she could be the one handling the transfusion instead of Walter.

The young woman had become even more livid when she had seen the scars in the crook of her elbow, where too many needles had been plunged into her flesh not so gently a few months ago.

Olivia had kept her eyes on the floor, swallowing back the chronic indignation and mortification the whole situation kept on igniting within her, all the while trying not think about Peter, again and again. But how could she not think about him, and about how he had seen the scars, too, more than once?

She could not forget how he had never said a single word about it, choosing to kiss her marked skin instead, his brow furrowed with anger, a loathing she knew wasn't only directed towards her captors, but also towards himself. That deep line never disappeared from his face, even when she tried to kiss it away, tried to soothe his pain the way he soothed hers, even just for a minute.

Thinking about Peter hurt more than any new needle pushed into her veins today, and yet, she was as powerless as ever when it came to him. Being forced to just sit there and do nothing at all while her blood was slowly going from her body to her Alternate's was not helping.

She had never been one to sit still, and her fidgety nature was more noticeable than ever when there was an apocalypse going on outside.

"I guess I should thank you."

Olivia was slightly startled by the sound of her voice, her own voice, and yet different; it always sounded like a recorded version of herself. Reopening her eyes, she turned her head to look at the woman lying on the chair next to hers.

She was obviously awake again –or she had decided she could stop faking. She was also still clearly weakened; though her face was starting to show some color again, she looked drained.

Olivia was still very much unable to feel any kind of pity for her.

They were alone in the lab, now; Walter, who he had apparently found a way to reduce the scale of the events happening all around, was with Broyles. She wasn't sure where Astrid had gone to. The point was that she wasn't there, when the last thing Olivia felt like doing right now was talking to her Alternate.

But silence wasn't a good option either, not when she had initiated the 'conversation'.

She had to look away from her sickly face, though, before saying: "Don't thank me. I'm not doing this for you."

This earned her one of her small chuckles. "What, you gonna tell me you're doing this for the Greater Good?"

Olivia couldn't help herself; she looked back at her, their gazes instantly meeting. She absolutely hated the way this woman could so easily crawl under her skin, like some kind of very itchy, abhorring bug. She had barely spoken at all, and yet she had already managed to make her feel both mad and ridiculed again.

"I'm not even going to try and discuss my thoughts on integrity with you," Olivia told her coldly. "It would be a waste of time, and I'm already wasting enough of it as it is."

Liv sighed and rolled her eyes, obviously unaffected by her bitterness. It wasn't long before she spoke again. "Can I ask you something?"

She sounded casual, as if they were old friends catching up on each other's life, and Olivia had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to react. She had every reason in the world (even two) to ignore her, but she couldn't help feeling like they were in constant silent competition now, and that simply ignoring her would be like admitting defeat.

She was not going to let that happen.

"Ask all you want," she told her just as icily as before, her eyes fixed on the Tank's doors. "You might not get an answer, though."

Liv didn't waste any time. "What happened to you? What caused you to become so closed-up and uptight?"

Olivia very slowly turned her gaze back to her.

Even though there had been no hint of disdain in her voice, she had expected to see her usual mocking smirk on her face; she was slightly taken aback when she saw that she was simply looking at her curiously, as if really intrigued. Her obvious lack of condescension didn't make what she had asked in the first place more acceptable. The content itself was insulting enough.

"The few weeks I was forced to spend on your Side didn't exactly help," she eventually answered flatly, refusing to even blink. "Being tortured and brainwashed is less enjoyable than you'd think."

She blinked at that, and some kind of emotion crossed her face; but she quickly and expertly masked it, her lips finally curling up again, as she cocked her head. "C'mon, we both know that's not the reason. You were like that before this whole thing even started. I had to pretend to be you, remember? You should have seen your friends' face every time I smiled when I got here."

Self-control was such a difficult behavior to maintain when you were forced to interact with someone who had stolen your life.

And yet, Olivia did not react rashly; she allowed her antipathy to wash over her, offering her her most murderous look of all as she imagined the pleasure she would feel at pulling the needle out of her arm and plunging it in her eye, maybe. She didn't put her thoughts into action, though, because that was what differentiated her from the criminals she ran after most days.

She was better than this. At least, she really wanted to believe she was. She didn't have to get as low as her.

She was not going to let her Alternate act as if she was the better 'version' simply because she was less intense and quicker with a smile.

She had come to term with this a while ago, and it was time to let her know.

"What makes you think that being closed-up and uptight isn't how you were supposed to be, too?" Olivia asked her then, their staring contest still going strong. "I don't particularly believe that being selfish and careless is an improvement."

Liv's smile only got cockier. "Oh, I know exactly what made me the way I am." She said, and there definitely was some contempt in her voice now. "Don't think that because you're wearing a heavy dark cloud over your head 24/7, you're the only one who had shit happened to them in life. Big news: Shit happens. At the game of life, you either win, or you lose. I just made the wise decision that I should win as often as possible."

It was Olivia's turn to chuckle humorlessly, shaking her head slowly. "I know what you're talking about, your Secretary forced me to live that perfect life of yours, too. I still have your memories, I know about your Rachel dying in childbirth, and how it 'opened your eyes' on how precious life is, and how you should not waste it."

Liv stopped smiling at that, and Olivia felt a strong surge of satisfaction at her returning paler. And so she kept going.

"Life is not a game, Olivia." She told her firmly. "People die. They die, or they leave you. Either way, you end up alone. In the end, all you have is yourself, and that's why I'm so uptight. I'm uptight because I always try my best, and it's never enough. But no one else is going to live this life for me. Least of all you."

"Trust me when I say that you can keep your life," Liv said, her face just as dark now. "I never wanted it in the first place, and living in your shoes for two months was enough to make me realize your world definitely is the fucked up one."

"Then why the hell did you come back?" Olivia almost shouted, sitting up angrily, which was not such a smart move, at all. She was still giving up an important amount of her blood –why, she really couldn't remember right now- and her sudden move added to her fury caused her to feel suddenly very light-headed.

She fell back heavily on her chair, bringing her free hand up to her face, her forehead feeling clammy under her palm. Eyes still closed, she forced herself to calm down, though she knew it was too late. Her entire body seemed to be buzzing now, her heart pounding, every hair on her skin standing up.

She briefly thought about how Walter would be delighted to hear she had just given herself a good shot of Cortexiphan without his help. Anger wasn't usually the catalyst, but she had been aware of how receptive she was to any emotion today, ever since she had been told about Peter's condition.

She immediately regretted thinking about him again, because at the memory of his battered body, the tingling sensation coursing through her body instantly increased, and she cursed under her breath. She kept her eyes tightly closed, knowing what she would see if she opened her eyes and looked at her Alternate. She was certainly not ready to see something she had always associated with Peter around her.

"Uh, something's wrong." Liv said then, and Olivia was so focused on controlling her breathing that she didn't realize it wasn't a question.

"I'm fine," she muttered unhappily. "It's just a head rush."

"No, something's really wrong with one of us," Liv insisted, and she actually did sound a bit freaked out. Olivia had no other choice but to open her eyes, looking at her.

Without surprise, she was surrounded by the Glimmer; but Olivia barely paid attention to it, startled by the look on her Alternate's face. She was staring at her, too, in a way that instantly made her dread what she was going to say next. Her face was a mixture of anxiety and awe, and she wasn't exactly looking at her.

She was looking at something around her.

"Why the fuck are you glowing?"

TBC...

A/N: I still cannot believe the amount of O² we're getting on the show :') It makes writing this even more enjoyable XD I hope you enjoyed it too! Reviews would be appreciated, you can even kick my French ass so I don't get lazy XD