A/N: Christmas miracle, a couple days late. I don't even have any real excuse for taking two years to update this story, beside "things". Good enough. Once again, I would encourage you to reread at least the previous chapter before reading this, because haha two years. Can you believe next month, it will be THREE YEARS since Fringe ended? Hilarious.
In any case, I hope whoever is still reading this will enjoy it ;-)
CHAPTER SIX - BLOOD TIES
"He used your son's blood."
Only silence followed her admission, the thick, heavy kind that felt almost palpable.
Liv's eyes remained fixed on Peter as dread twisted her insides. Telling him about Henry never was part of the plan when she crossed over, no matter how thin that plan had been. Now that she'd been cornered into doing it, though, she could barely stand how apprehensive she felt.
Don't hate him, she found herself thinking. Don't hate your child for something he has no control over.
She shouldn't have worried about him hating her baby. That much became obvious when Peter's face contorted into a grimace of skepticism and disgust.
"What kind of sick game is this?" He asked, his tone matching his expression.
He didn't believe her.
Had she been calmer, Liv might have realized that of course he wouldn't believe her. She couldn't have been farther from being able to achieve any kind of rational thinking, though, as her heart thumped at a furious pace within her chest, her palms clammy with sweat.
The worry she felt for her son's safety made it almost impossible for her to think. All she knew was that she needed them to believe her, to believe her now, so that they would let her go back to him.
"I'm not lying," Liv said with a shake of her head, her voice hoarse with emotions, her gaze still locked with Peter's. She had dropped all kind of pretense, in the hope that being as genuine with him as she'd ever been would play in her favor.
Once again, she was underestimating the depth of Peter's rage. He was nearly sneering when he said: "You've done nothing but lie to and betray the people present in this room from the moment you first infiltrated our world, but this has to be your most pathetic lie yet."
Liv's patience, which was already worn thin, vanished altogether, her fear and frustration making her as irrational as him. "Look, I'm not asking you to believe me!" she snapped. "If I'd wanted to use your son's existence to manipulate you, I'd have mentioned him hours ago. I'm only telling you now so you'd understand why you have to let me go home. I need to make sure he's safe!"
"Stop. Lying," Peter boomed, his traits twisted in contempt. "There's no way you can have a child!"
Liv was beyond fed up with him and his angry denial, with his loathing and the waves of hatred he was sending her way, refusing to even consider the possibility that his son was real, and therefore making it impossible for her to get back to him.
"Is the thought of you getting me pregnant really that unrealistic, Peter?" She asked, then, unable not to readopt a sarcastic demeanor, more as a way to shield herself than anything else. "Do you need me to go over how many times we shagged and how these things work?"
"I don't think that's what he meant."
Liv was taken aback at the sound of Astrid's voice, having almost forgotten that she and Peter were far from being the only people present in the room. Her eyes finally moved away from Peter's, finding Astrid's. The young woman looked pale and confused. Her antipathy had never been as strong as Peter's, but from the look on her face, it was clear she didn't believe her either.
"The timing just doesn't work," Astrid continued. "Even if you had gotten pregnant before going back to your world, you would still be pregnant now, but you're obviously…not? I know some women don't show until late into their pregnancy, but I find it hard to believe you wouldn't have said anything about it until now. If anything else, it would have shown in some of your blood work."
Liv closed her eyes for a second, taking what she hoped would be a couple of calming breaths. This was her chance. Astrid was giving her the opportunity to explain herself, instead of simply dismissing her claim altogether.
"I should be about fourteen weeks pregnant, to be exact," she said to the floor, before raising her head to look at Astrid again. "Instead, I have a three weeks old baby at home. That's what happens when someone powerful and resourceful enough abducts you and decides to make you skip seven months of pregnancy."
"You're insane," Peter said, shaking his head very slowly, his scowl dangerous. "How can you expect us to believe any of this bullshit?"
"I am not making this up!" Liv nearly shouted again, her sense of helplessness worsening, in turn making her feel terrified and furious. "Look, there is no way for me to show you solid proofs, but I can assure you that no matter how fucked up you think this is, it's nothing compared to the freak show it truly was! I could give you a detailed report of what happened to me, if it's what it takes, tell you what it felt like to be strapped to a chair while they made my ten weeks old fetus grow thirty weeks in the span of twelve hours. Or maybe you need to hear about the part where they used a torture machine on my lower half in order to 'extend' my ligaments, so that my pelvis would be wide enough to push him out an hour later?"
Liv didn't expect her angry words to convince anyone, behaving out of desperation now; she never reacted well to being this helpless. In some ways, she felt almost worse than she had on that night, and that was saying something.
All she wanted was to go back to her son. Couldn't they see that?
If anything else, her little monologue had shut Peter up again; the way he kept on glaring at her, jaw clenched and arms folded, made him look like a stubborn twelve year old.
"Is it…is that even possible?" Astrid asked, then. Looking away from Peter, Liv saw that the young woman was now looking at Walter.
"In theory," he answered in a low voice. "If I remember correctly, one of the very first cases we worked on together involved an accelerated pregnancy, yes? At the time, the process never stopped, causing the death of not only the mother, but of the child as well, since he continued growing and aging. Assuming that the Other Side found a way to reverse the aging process, or to contain it to gestation, then yes, I suppose it is possible. Still, it would remain a highly dangerous procedure for both mother and child." He turned to Liv, then, who honestly felt stunned by this unexpected development. "Is it safe to assume Walternate did this to you?"
Before she could answer, Peter let out another growl. "C'mon Walter, don't buy into her lies."
"Using your child's blood to activate the Machine makes more sense than any of the hypotheses we've come up with this far," Walter replied in a cold voice, staring at Peter in that way that made him look so much like his counterpart. "Once again, you are closing off your mind to any explanation that displeases you or makes you feel uncomfortable. You are too intelligent to be that obtuse, son."
After another heavy silence during which father and son glared at one another, Liv answered Walter's question, keeping her eyes on him. She addressed him directly, realizing that she may have an ally in him, and that persuading him was key.
"My abduction was…sketchy at best. Most of it happened in an old warehouse in Chinatown. They had me drugged for the most part, and their faces were masked, so I didn't get to see who these people were. We weren't able to find any evidence that would link what happened to me to the Secretary, but he certainly has the resources necessary to pull off that kind of drastic science experiment. And obviously, he had a motive. I mean, I always figured this was done to make sure I would go through with the pregnancy and deliver a healthy child, but now I understand why."
Walter peered at her. "What do you mean, deliver a healthy child?"
"VPE."
If the sound of Astrid's voice had startled Liv earlier, it was nothing compared to the surprise she felt hearing her Alternate speak. In all honesty, she'd almost forgotten she was in the room with them, considering she hadn't said a word since Liv's admission.
It actually took her a second to find Olivia. She hadn't moved away from the group, not really, but she'd managed to make herself…smaller, somehow, standing slightly in the shadows.
She was not looking at anyone, her eyes oddly vacant, like the rest of her face. Her voice was just as expressionless when she continued: "Viral Propagated Eclampsia. It's a genetic disorder that affects some women on the Other Side, one that affects pregnancy and that is almost undetectable unless you're looking for it. VPE carriers and their babies rarely survive delivery. Both Rachel and her daughter died from it. Over There." She added the last two words almost as an afterthought, as if for a moment, she'd forgotten she wasn't talking about her own sister and niece.
Liv was shaken by her Alternate's words, not simply because she'd mentioned the loss of Rachel and her baby. The fact that she knew so much was highly disturbing in itself. She'd known that Olivia had been given her memories, and that she'd lived her life for a few weeks, but witnessing her recollecting those memories as if they were her own was beyond eerie.
She also felt unexpectedly affected by the other woman's demeanor. Obviously, Olivia was in a bit of a shock, her eyes still lost in the distance, looking more sickly than pale. While Peter had spent the last few minutes fuming and raging, it looked like Olivia had been drained. She couldn't be blamed. As far as unpleasant news went, learning that your boyfriend had a child with an alternate version of yourself had to feel pretty shitty.
Now was not the time for her to start feeling guilty, though, not when her claim was finally being taken seriously.
"Yeah," she spoke instead, her eyes going back to Walter, and somehow, her voice sounded even lower than Olivia's. "Since my sister had VPE, I pretty much knew from the moment I found out I was pregnant that I probably had it, too. The Secretary had access to this information, about me and my family. And he must have realized that as soon as I learned I was a carrier, I would terminate the pregnancy. So he made sure I wouldn't."
"And they just…let you go?" Astrid asked, and she didn't sound doubtful anymore, more fascinated than anything else. "They abducted you, accelerated your pregnancy, delivered your child, and then they just let you leave?"
Liv couldn't help it. She scoffed at the idea, so ludicrous compared to how things had been. "Hardly," she said with a shake of her head. "They didn't let me go as much as I made them let me go. By the time I was ready to deliver, they thought I was too big and weak to fight, so they lowered their guard. Their mistake. I ended up giving birth a few blocks away, in a shop instead of in their creepy warehouse. I'm just glad I made it out on time, honestly, I'm not sure they would have let me keep my child if I hadn't. Come to think of it, they probably weren't planning on keeping me alive at all. All they wanted was Henry."
"Henry," Walter repeated. Liv didn't miss the fact that he didn't look so cold anymore, as if the thought of her baby –his grandchild, for all intents and purposes, made it impossible for him to remain stern.
"That's his name," Liv nodded. "I named him after a cabbie who helped me deliver him."
Olivia made an odd sound from where she stood, something like a sharp intake of breath. Before Liv could refocus on her, though, Walter spoke again.
"Do you have a picture of the boy?" He asked, and she didn't imagine the hopeful note in his voice.
Liv couldn't believe it. She'd expected them to tear her head off upon learning about her son's existence, especially considering Peter's animosity toward her this far, which had managed to spike when she'd first mentioned Henry. But the mood that had now taken over the lab was drastically different.
Sam Weiss seemed to be the only one completely detached, having obviously given up on trying to contribute in any way to what was going on. Olivia still stood slightly in the shadows, her posture rigid, her face pale; she remained quiet, as if detached from it all as well, but that detachment couldn't have been more different from Sam's. Astrid for her part looked astounded, while Walter remained expectant.
Liv was more interested in Peter's current state of mind, though, for obvious reasons. He looked like he had just taken another hard blow to the head. Most of his rage seemed to have left him, his ashy complexion almost matching Olivia's, who he was now staring at; she was not returning his gaze.
Focusing on Walter's question, Liv was about to say that no, she did not carry a picture of her son around with her. She loved her baby more than she'd loved anyone in this life, but she'd sworn to herself after his birth that she would not become one of these cooing, annoying mothers.
She remembered something, then, something she'd forgotten in the midst of everything that had happened from the moment she'd stepped into Liberty Island last night. There had been a picture of Henry on the dashboard of her car, left there by her mom the last time Olivia gave her a ride.
"You should put it on your fridge," the grandmother had cooed. "He looks so adorable in this one." Unlike her daughter, Marilyn Dunham had embraced every cliché possible regarding this new baby.
"Mom, you think he looks adorable in every single picture you take of him," Liv had chuckled. Inwardly, she quite agreed.
She'd left the picture in her car, for her to find again after she'd left Lincoln with Henry that night. There wasn't even anything special about it. It was one of the many generic shots Marilyn had taken of her grandson over the past three weeks. In this one, Henry was in his rocking chair, his fist clasped around one of the legs of the fluffy stuffed spider Charlie had brought over a couple weeks ago.
Liv remembered looking at that picture for far too long, before stuffing it in the back pocket of her pants, cooing be damn. She was about to do something potentially lethal, she was allowed to bring a piece of home along with her.
A piece of him.
She reached for that same back pocket, now, her fingers trembling slightly as she found the edge of the picture and pulled it out. She didn't look at his face; she couldn't. She held it out to Walter instead, who took it with fingers that were even shakier than hers, and soon, he was staring at her baby.
After a few seconds, a quivering smile lit up his face, and she realized how tearful his eyes had become when he raised them from the picture to look at her. "He's beautiful," he said, with undeniable awe in his voice.
What Liv felt then was the most positive feeling she'd experienced in the last twelve hours, suddenly fighting the prickles in her own eyes. "I think so, too," she said quietly, not trusting herself to say anything else.
Walter turned to Peter, then, holding out the picture for him to take.
Time stretched as Peter stood there, arms still crossed over his chest, his eyes cast down to the ground in obvious denial. Liv was beginning to think he would simply keep on ignoring his father's outstretched hand until the old man gave up, when Peter unfolded his arms.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, he accepted the picture, looking down at his son for the first time.
Liv would have been incapable of naming the emotions that crossed over his face in that instant, but anger definitely wasn't one of them. He looked…overwhelmed. He stared and stared, looking more distraught by the second, soon swallowing convulsively. When he finally took his eyes away from the picture, he looked straight at her.
And she understood what he was telling her without having to say a single word.
I have a son.
They broke eye contact only moments later, the sound of hurried footsteps going up the stairs breaking the silence that had taken over the room, swiftly followed by the door opening and closing.
Olivia had left the lab.
…
Peter stepped out into the hallway just in time to see one of the classrooms' doors closing, further down the hall, saving him the need to check every room in the building to find Olivia, like he'd planned on doing.
He still didn't feel entirely in charge of his own body as he walked towards the door, numbed by the events of the past fifteen minutes, although his heart was racing furiously inside his chest; to some extent, he was aware that he was shaking, not so faintly. He couldn't stop and give himself time to think about what he'd just learned, though, to think about his son. His priority right now was Olivia.
Every time he thought about the look on her face, or how she'd been forced out of the lab, his entire being ached, in ways that had nothing to do with the aftereffects of the hard fall he'd experienced the previous day.
Peter didn't even knock before entering the classroom, fearing that she would ask him to stay away if he did. He had absolutely no idea what he was going to say to her, what he could possibly say to make this less damaging than it was, but he had to try.
When he came in, closing the door behind him, she did not ask him to leave her alone. She didn't say anything at all, not even looking at him. She'd walked to the desk, half-leaning on it. One of her hands was up to the back of her neck, tracing something he knew wasn't there anymore. It made his insides clench again, feeling like they had traveled a few months back in time, when Olivia felt too hurt and betrayed to be able to make eye contact with him, sometimes reaching up for that tattoo inked in the skin of her nape. The tattoo wasn't there anymore. She'd gotten it removed barely two weeks after they'd started 'seeing each other'.
The scar remained, though.
Peter felt helpless. They'd managed to get over the Switch and start anew. She'd then had to deal with having her body taken over by a dead man's soul, also accepting the fact that Peter had lied to her for weeks regarding the Shapeshifters he'd been killing. And although they hadn't had a chance to talk about it yet, he'd known she would understand why he hadn't told her about his intentions to try and step into the Machine.
But this…this might be the last straw. This might just be the one thing she cannot forgive him for, and how could he blame her?
As always, Olivia came to his rescue.
Letting go of her nape, gripping the edge of the desk instead, she looked up at him. Her eyes moved over his face, and he knew she was looking at the cuts and bruises, souvenirs from his failed interaction with the Machine.
When she finally locked eyes with him, she gave him one her sad, little smiles, cutting deeper into his chest.
"I was worried about you, you know," she said softly, almost in apology. "When you were in the hospital."
Peter swallowed hard, feeling more miserable by the second. "I know," he answered, his voice hoarse, because what else could he say?
She averted her eyes again, still smiling that heartbreaking smile of hers. "I would have stayed by your side if I could. It wasn't my choice to leave you."
He had to close his eyes for a second, unable to bear this, to listen to her trying to justify herself in any way when she hadn't done anything wrong, when he was the one supposed to ask for her forgiveness. The enormity of the situation hit him all over again, thinking of his son, his son for Christ's sake, making him feel lightheaded and weak. Once again, he was nauseous with guilt and shame, aching at the sight of the woman he loved looking defeated in front of him.
"Olivia," he chocked. "I am so sor-"
"Don't," she cut him off, looking at him again and shaking her head. Her voice remained soft, just like her eyes. Soft and haunted. "Please, don't do this again. The last thing I need from you is another apology, considering this is probably harder on you than it is on me. I'm well aware that you didn't…choose this, so if you're worried that I'm going to shut you out and refuse to talk to you because of it, don't. I won't."
He should have felt relieved, yet he didn't. He knew her well enough to know she wasn't lying, but her demeanor told another story altogether. She was in pain.
He took a few tentative steps closer to her, the lump in his throat making him hesitant to try and say anything. After a few seconds, her eyes left his, looking down, and she pointed at his hand.
"Let me see," she said.
At first, he was confused about what she was asking, until he looked down and realized he was still holding the picture of his son.
His son.
His first urge was to refuse; nothing good could possibly come from this. The decision wasn't his to make, though. If she wanted to see the picture, he owed it to her to respect her choice.
Now standing in front of her, he held it out for her to see. Olivia didn't take it, staring at it, while he stared at her. He almost despised the fact that he knew her so well, knew the meaning of each change in her facial expression, no matter how small.
After what felt like the longest minute of his life, her face constricted slightly, and she briefly pinched her lips, her eyes too bright, now. "He is beautiful," she whispered, before looking away at last, closing her eyes.
He lowered his hand, somehow feeling worse than he had a minute ago. "Olivia…" he tried again, his voice barely louder than hers, but she shook her head, smiling painfully, and he remained silent.
Eventually, she reopened her eyes, using a knuckle to wipe off some of the wetness that had gathered at their corners, before meeting his gaze again.
"I've worked hard to come to term with what happened between you and her," she said, her voice low, "especially with how she'd taken a lot of our 'first' away from us." Sensing that he was about to protest to that, she cut him off again with another small shake of her head. "Don't deny it, Peter. It's a fact. A lot of what was a first for me wasn't a first for you. And like I said, I've come to term with it, focusing on how this was in the past, and we still had many 'firsts' ahead of us, moments she couldn't touch."
She had to stop again for a few seconds, eyes once again closed as she obviously tried to keep her emotions under control. When she eventually spoke again, she spoke to the floor.
"I thought about it, you know," she said, quietly. "I can't say it's been one of my most recurring fantasies, but I've thought about it, on good days. About having children with you." She looked at him. "And now, she's taken that from me, too."
Peter instinctively reached out for her face. When she recoiled away from his touch, just as instinctively, that hurt more than any word she could say. His fingers lingered near her face for a moment, before he let his hand fall.
To his surprise, she caught it in both her own, enveloping his fingers with hers, squeezing, and he almost sighed in relief.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, tightening her hold, her gaze boring into his. "I meant what I said, I don't want to shut you out, it's just that I-"
She couldn't finish, but he didn't need her to. "I know," he said in a thick voice, leaning forward until his forehead touched hers, noses bumping. "I know…"
This time, when she let go of his hand and he brought it back to her face, she didn't move away, leaning into his palm as she reached for the back of his neck, and he felt her sigh against the skin of his wrist.
Ever since they'd gotten those phone calls at the break of dawn, what felt like days ago now, they'd barely had a moment alone with each other, nothing private enough to allow that kind of proximity and intimacy. Adding to that his brief coma and the return of her Alternate, topped with the recent news of his son's existence, this was long overdue.
He was grateful that she was letting him touch her at all, aware that this physicality between them was often more soothing than words.
But there were times when some words needed to be said.
"Olivia," he said softly, pulling away a little, just enough so that he could look into her eyes, one hand still on her cheek, hers on his nape. He let the picture soundlessly slip from his fingers, so that he could bring his other hand up to her face, his eyes firmly locked with hers. "I love you."
He said it simply, decisively, unquestionably. He said it as if he'd said it a thousand times before; in a way, he felt like he had. He knew she loved him back, he didn't need to hear the words to confirm it.
"I've loved you for a long time," he said, "and it has led me to make some stupid decisions along the way. I wish there was a way for me to fix this, to make it all go away, but I can't. We both know we can't just pretend it isn't real." She nodded in his hands. "I can't even begin to process what this boy's existence means, to me, to you, or to us, but what I know is what it doesn't mean. It doesn't mean that you've lost anything from me. When you came to me, that night back in February, and gave us another chance, it was with this idea that we wanted the same thing, a life together. It's still what I want, no matter what's going on outside. Every 'first' we had, they were 'firsts' I was having with you, not anyone else. The same applies for the children we may have, the children I hope we'll have someday, because I think about it, too. I love you. Whatever happens next, we're in this together. Okay?"
She nodded in his hands again. "Okay," she whispered, and he used his thumb to brush off a rolling tear, soon resting his forehead against hers again, just as she added: "And for what it's worth, I love you, too."
He smiled. "Yeah, I know."
...
Olivia was officially done with this day.
She didn't care that giving up was against her nature and everything she believed in. Right now, she simply had enough. When she'd entered that classroom, all she'd wanted was to be left alone, crumbling universes or not; she'd reached her breaking point.
She only felt slightly better now, with Peter's forehead against hers, both his hands entrapping her face, having just been told what she'd known for quite some time –that he loved her. As always, his little speech had managed to soothe some of her doubts and fears, and the feel of him against her was quieting voices no words would ever be able to reach.
She was still overwhelmed, though, no matter what he said, or what he promised her. All she had to do was open her eyes and see that shimmer that still enveloped them both, close as they were, irrefutable proof that her emotions were getting the best of her.
Because she was still out there, only a few rooms away, having a whole new power over him, now, in the form of a son.
Her thinking was irrational, but she couldn't help it. As always, Peter was drawing the most vulnerable side of her out, and right now, that vulnerability was tightly entangled with that all too familiar feeling of inadequacy, of being unable to compete with her Alternate.
He was there, though, his breath upon her face, his warm palms on her skin, and when Olivia moved her arms to encircle him, he was solid and real. Hers.
Needing to prove it to herself as much as to him, she kept on moving, pushing herself off the desk and straightening up to lean fully into him instead, seeking him. They'd been together long enough for him to recognize the signs, seeking her back, and when he kissed her, she felt in his kiss what he had just said with words.
She reveled in the feel and taste of him, in the synchronicity of their movements, even the smallest ones, both tender and starved. Feeling him respond so eagerly to her only increased her need to claim him, to claim him the way she'd claimed him so many times before. She became more demanding in the way she kissed him, in the way she moved, one of her hands soon slipping under his shirt. When she raked her nails across his lower back, she felt the strong shivers that ran under his skin, causing him to push her against the desk, pressing his hips to hers.
But he was reaching for her hand, then, extracting it from under his shirt, putting an end to their kissing as well. They stared at each other for a moment, their breathing loud, scorching, the look in his eyes making it clear he knew exactly what she wanted from him, and that it wouldn't be hard for her to make him cave in.
"Hey," he said softly, bringing one of his hands back to her flushed cheek instead, tilting his head to the side. "I think I understand what you're trying to do but...you have nothing to prove."
For a moment, she almost denied it, her lust quickly turning into embarrassment. But his eyes were soft and kind, the way they often were; she knew there was no point in lying. And so she closed her eyes, sighing as she leaned into him, resting her forehead against his chest, focusing on the feel of his fingers in her hair, his other arm soon circling her waist.
They let time pass for a while, although she knew he was as aware as her of every second that went by. Which was why she eventually pulled away from him, meeting his eyes again.
"I guess we need to get back in there," she said, and he nodded, looking as thrilled as her at the prospect of dealing with the end of the world.
She reluctantly let go of him, and as he stepped back, her eyes fell on the picture on the ground. She bent down to pick it up, handing it back to him without looking at it again. The look they exchanged as he took it from her made it clear they both knew they'll have to have a serious discussion about this at some point, but not now.
First, they had a couple of universes to save.
They held hands all the way back to the lab, more for comfort and support than as a sign of affection. We're in this together, he had told her, and as they approached the door, that's what she repeated to herself. As they stopped briefly before entering the lab, Peter leaned in again, pressing a kiss to her forehead. They exchanged one more look, and he opened the door.
The last thing Olivia wanted to do was look at her Alternate, but she was of course the first person her eyes found as they walked to the stairs. It would have been hard to miss her, given the way she was pacing the lab, a hand on her hip, chewing on her lip. She looked like she was ready to lose her mind, and despite herself, Olivia couldn't help but empathize. The thought of that child was too enormous for her to properly assimilate it just yet, besides the fact that it made her feel miserable, but she knew Liv's distress was real.
Right now, she wasn't trying to mess with them anymore, all she wanted was to make sure her son was safe, and that was something Olivia could respect. In retrospect, she now understood better why her Alternate had come back here in the first place. She hadn't said so, but what mother wouldn't try everything in her power to insure her child's world wouldn't be destroyed?
It didn't make her any more likable, though.
When Liv heard them come in, she briefly stopped her pacing and looked up at Peter, who didn't meet her gaze. Looking around, Olivia frowned, realizing that only Liv and Sam were there, Sam now eating another doughnut, back to his reading.
"Where are the others?" Olivia asked him, but he just shrugged, not even looking up.
"In the office," Liv answered instead. "Something else happened in there, apparently."
Olivia looked at her, their eyes meeting. Liv at least had the decency to avert her eyes quickly enough. Just as they came down the steps, both Walter and Astrid emerged from the office again. Even before he opened his mouth, Olivia knew Walter was thrilled by whatever had happened.
"Ah, just in time!" He exclaimed. "Show them, Aster."
But Astrid was already 'on it', holding out a piece of paper to Olivia, who took it, frowning. She was now looking at the lines that covered it. It was the same sentence, repeating itself over and over again.
Be a better man than your father.
Olivia looked back up at Astrid. "It…worked?"
Astrid nodded. "I heard the typewriter going only a couple of minutes ago. I don't know what happened, but something obviously triggered it."
Olivia shared a brief look with Peter, feeling herself blush faintly. Unfortunately, Walter didn't miss the exchange. "Of course," he said, pointing both his fingers at them, nodding approvingly. "Peter's proximity. It's always been your strongest catalyst."
"What does this mean, exactly," Olivia demanded, annoyed by the fact that she still felt flustered.
"Well, it means that your feelings for him are quite profound, so whenever the two of you touch, your abilities are-"
"Not that, Walter," she cut him off sternly, distinctively hearing Liv scoff. "What does this mean?" she repeated, brandishing the paper.
"Oh, that," he said. "It means you are ready to turn off the other Machine, using ours, which will allow Peter to step into it."
"No."
The word almost boomed in the lab, categorical and firm. They all turned to look at Liv, who did not seem remotely amused anymore.
She shook her head. "There's no way you're turning that thing off from here while I still have no idea where Henry is. The Secretary will not back down and you know it. He will turn it back on, even if it means using his grandchild again, and I will certainly not stand there and do nothing while I watch you destroy my universe."
"Do you really think you could stop us?" Peter asked, obviously unable to keep himself from rebutting absolutely everything this woman said.
There was a short but heavy pause, before Liv started walking to him, and she looked like she was ready to give them hell trying. "Don't you dare question whether or not I'm ready to fight each and every single one of you if it means protecting my son," she almost hissed, actually poking him hard in the chest at the word 'dare'. "Maybe you don't have it in you to care if he lives or dies, and I've never been delusional enough to hope that you might give a damn, but I thought you'd at least be human enough to realize a three weeks old baby shouldn't be used in your place to kill a few billions people."
On these words, she grabbed at his hand, almost tearing the picture from his fingers, before walking away from the group. A whistle soon broke the silence.
"You seriously all need to relax a little," Sam noted.
"Oh, shut up," both Olivias snapped.
This was somehow so ridiculous, it made the tension go down a notch.
"Alright," Olivia said firmly, raising both her hands, feeling restless and more than ready to put an end to this freak show. "Let's discuss options, then, because we're running out of time. The Machine needs to be stopped, one way or another."
Eventually, Walter spoke, voicing the thought that was undoubtedly starting to dawn on everyone. "The only other way for you to turn off the Machine is to do it from Over There," he said, sternly. "For that, you will need to cross over again."
In a part of her mind, Olivia had known this would come. She'd known the moment she realized Liv was right, and that they couldn't simply do it from this side. Realistically, the only way for them to put an end to this once and for all was to talk to the Secretary.
Knowing it didn't make this any easier, and her chest wasn't the only thing that was constricting at the thought; Olivia felt like her entire being was slowly being squeezed, a sensation not unlike the one she'd felt repeatedly whenever she'd traveled between their worlds. And now, she was being asked to go back there, back to the Other Side, to this place and this man she had escaped against all odds less than six months ago.
A place and a man who, among other things, had tried very hard to kill her.
But in the matter of universal wars and universe-crossing, her life never mattered much.
"Then we cross over," she said.
TBC...
A/N: There are two chapters left (and an epilogue). Just so you know, the next chapter is already written (as well as most of the last one), so it technically shouldn't take years this time, but who knows with me.
As always, reviews would be much appreciated :)