all around the world was waking

If Olivia's being honest, having her gun on her would make her feel a hell of lot better. She knows she can hold her own without it -- her strength and self-defense skills are fine, and maybe her time spent with Charlie will pay off soon, too -- but any extra security would be nice.

She trusts her instincts, though; if her instincts still tell her don't let Alex know you're FBI, she'll listen.

So she tucks her gun and badge in an air vent, as hidden as they can be while still being accessible in an emergency, and lets the apartment door click behind her.

When it opens again, she's smiling as she props her shoulder against it, letting Alex step over the threshold.

Olivia leaves the infirmary only a fraction lighter than when she walked in. After saying her thank-yous and goodbyes to Charlie, she lingers by the bulletin board a moment longer, studying the name and dates, wondering if she should add a remembrance of her own. Another flower. A note to Captain Rogers.

In the end, she does neither: all she does is pick up the hair dye she'd been meaning to get when she first arrived.

When she opens a door back to Brooklyn, her hair's stained dark with water, but already lightening to blonde at the edges. Peter stirs as she pads to the free bed in their hotel room. She pauses, waiting for him to settle back to sleep before moving on.

A rather large part of her wants to crawl into bed next to him, not wanting to fall asleep without some kind of presence beside her. She wonders how comfortable it would feel to doze off with his arms around her.

Pushing it from her mind, she draws up the sheets and turns her back on his bed.

( Spoilers for and most dialogue from 3x09, ''Marionette.'' )

A week after Peter disappears from the hospital, chased away by the truth of his childhood, Olivia finds a diagram face-down on the next barstool over.

She's not at Milliways; after the events surrounding the Slenderman, all she wanted to do -- after checking that everyone had made it through safely -- was go home, sleep untroubled, and breathe without choking. Tonight, she's at the local dive not far from her apartment, and what she notices first isn't the paper: it's the man who walks by on his way to the back door. Tall. Pale. Impeccably dressed.

And very, very bald.

By all accounts, Olivia shouldn't be surprised when she turns over the paper and is greeted with a diagram of some impossible-looking machine -- and a sketch of Peter, his head thrown back, flames streaming from his eyes.

( spoilers for and dialogue from Fringe 2x21, ''Over There, Part 1'' )

The last thing she remembers is the ground disintegrating beneath her feet, her toes stretching down to find purchase against the dying gravity, a flash so bright it knocks the wind from her.

Her feet slam too hard against the floor of the bar, and she gasps out, involuntarily, as her injured ankle threatens to buckle. Olivia knows it wasn't a dream or a vision then: persistent pain is a good indicator of reality.

The bar's in shambles, but in one piece. Everyone else stares around, looking as dazed as she feels.

Without a word, Olivia turns and limps through the wreckage to the front door.

---

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