Olivia Dunham (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flip_the_lights) wrote2012-11-03 09:16 pm
flip_the_lights) wrote2012-11-03 09:16 pm
[Boston, MA]
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.
The chill up her spine persists all the way to her apartment, where Walter greets her in a panic. The paper doesn't do anything to comfort him; neither does the news that Olivia received it from an Observer. "After I brought Peter from the Other Side, some years later, one of them came to visit me," he babbles, tripping over the words in an inelegant stammer. "W-well he told me that I had to agree to never let Peter return to the Other Side."
"Why?"
"Well, because if I did -- " Walter gestures helplessly to the paper as he sets it down. "This would happen."
"Okay, but what is this, Walter?" Olivia demands. "What does it even mean?"
"Look, look, it is exactly what it happens to be! See?" He whirls the paper around to shove it across to her, fingers trembling atop the sketch of Peter. He sounds near tears. "I think my son is going to be responsible for the end of the world."
Speechless and staring, it's all Olivia can do to fight off the sudden clench in her heart. She looks down at the paper.
"Okay, Walter," she says, and wishes she sounded anything like as firm and composed as she should. "We have to get Peter back."
The how of this proves more complicated. It's not as simple as going to Milliways; the bar's cross-dimensional features only point one way. Olivia can use the ever-shifting doors to reach her home universe, but not to travel into one she's never seen. In fact, the only person who theoretically could have opened a door to the Other Side is Peter himself.
While she may have had a recent chance to practice her abilities, the fact remains that they're still too weak and unpredictable. If she wants to use them to walk between worlds unscathed (which, after a Massive Dynamic tech demonstrates how quickly atoms destabilize after crossing over, truly does seem like a powerful talent), she'll barely be able to haul herself to the Other Side and back, let alone both herself and Peter. They all agree she'll need help.
The help Massive Dynamic offers, though, isn't at all what she expects.
Three of her old classmates from Jacksonville -- classmates, she thinks, how benign -- look up as she walks into the room: James Heath, Sally Clark, and Nick Lane. James cradles a rabbit, the cuts on its face slowly healing as she watches. The fireball between Sally's hands disappears. When Nick breaks into a grin and exclaims, "Olive!" the whole room bursts out laughing as his empathic transfer races through them. Even Olivia feels the corners of his lips rise.
"Nick," Sally chides, and the laugher cuts out as Nick's smile takes on a more embarrassed bent. Sally, though, is all gentle pride. "Very good, baby."
Walter has always maintained that a psychic connection lingered between those involved in the Cortexiphan trials. Get them in proximity, and they'll provide a boost to each others' abilities. Between the four of them, then, they ought to muster up enough energy to slip across the barrier and reach the Other Side.
That happens tomorrow morning, though. Tonight, they're free to do whatever they see fit.
Olivia spends her evening pacing along the streets of Boston, not willing to go home until well after midnight. Rachel and Ella, visiting for a few days, are already asleep; Olivia continues her pacing without interruption, dozing off on the couch, waking a few hours later with a start. It's not like her to be so on edge before going into the field -- but then again, this is anything but a normal field mission.
At six AM, she tiptoes into the guest bedroom. Ella's still fast asleep. Gently, Olivia lowers herself onto the bed, and for a long moment, all she does is watch the rise and fall of her niece's chest. Then, with equal care, she reaches behind her neck to unclasp the chain of her crucifix necklace.
(The pendant Jack Green gave her has stayed in her nightstand since she got home. Olivia's pretty certain its protection won't work over here.)
Just as she gives consideration to waking her up, Ella's eyes flutter open. She frowns, blurry with sleep. "Aunt Liv?" she mumbles. "What time is it?"
Olivia glances at the clock. "It's early," she says, and lets out a small, apologetic laugh. Running the chain of the necklace between her fingers, she smiles down at her niece as she turns the pendant toward her. "I have to go on a trip, and, ah...I wanted to give you something before I left."
Blinking, Ella reaches out to touch the crucifix. After a beat, she smiles back and says, "It's pretty."
Olivia nods. "My mother," she says as she refastens the clasp, "your grandmother -- gave it to me before she died." She spreads the loop of the chain. Obediently, Ella leans forward, lifting her head enough for Olivia to slip the jewelry around her neck. "She told me that it would keep me safe. So now I'm giving it to you."
Ella's smile grows. Leaning up, she plants a firm kiss on Olivia's cheek. "Thanks, Aunt Liv."
Olivia can feel the edges of her smile begin to falter. Without thinking, she immediately shores them up to firmness. "You are welcome, baby girl," she whispers.
Six-fifteen AM. All that's left to do is pack. As she's holstering her gun in the living room, Rachel emerges, sleep-tousled and bleary. "You're up early," she remarks as she stuffs her hands in the pockets of her robe. "I didn't even hear you come in last night."
"No, I've been working a case." The gun slides home; she brushes her jacket back over her holster.
"Think you'll be home for dinner?"
Olivia hesitates, just long enough for her throat to start closing up. "I hope so," she says, pushing past the lump. "I'll call you and let you know."
Rachel just nods. "'Kay," she mumbles with a sleepy smile.
Rachel's her little sister; Olivia's always felt the need to look out for her. She wouldn't have entered the FBI if she didn't want to serve and protect. But right then, as Rachel blinks with the same muzzy concern she passed down to Ella, a surge of even fiercer protectiveness floods Olivia's chest. Trying to mask it with a grin and a tiny laugh, she reaches out to pull Rachel into a hug.
Just as Olivia knows her sister, so her sister knows her. Rachel tightens her own embrace. "Hey, you okay?" she asks.
The lump thickens. "Yeah," she whispers. Olivia feels her expression start to collapse; again, she steadies it, and by the time she pulls back she's all smiles. "We should do this more often. It's nice."
Rachel just shakes her head, laughing a little in puzzlement. "Sure," she says.
As Olivia grabs her keys and heads out, she can hear the pattering of footsteps as Ella races out of the bedroom. She waits until the door's shut before pressing the side of her hand to her mouth, breathing carefully, working to bury the emotions as deep as they'll go.
One more breath. She squares her shoulders. Checks her watch: 6:20 AM.
In a few hours, if all goes well, she'll be on the Other Side.
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.
The chill up her spine persists all the way to her apartment, where Walter greets her in a panic. The paper doesn't do anything to comfort him; neither does the news that Olivia received it from an Observer. "After I brought Peter from the Other Side, some years later, one of them came to visit me," he babbles, tripping over the words in an inelegant stammer. "W-well he told me that I had to agree to never let Peter return to the Other Side."
"Why?"
"Well, because if I did -- " Walter gestures helplessly to the paper as he sets it down. "This would happen."
"Okay, but what is this, Walter?" Olivia demands. "What does it even mean?"
"Look, look, it is exactly what it happens to be! See?" He whirls the paper around to shove it across to her, fingers trembling atop the sketch of Peter. He sounds near tears. "I think my son is going to be responsible for the end of the world."
Speechless and staring, it's all Olivia can do to fight off the sudden clench in her heart. She looks down at the paper.
"Okay, Walter," she says, and wishes she sounded anything like as firm and composed as she should. "We have to get Peter back."
The how of this proves more complicated. It's not as simple as going to Milliways; the bar's cross-dimensional features only point one way. Olivia can use the ever-shifting doors to reach her home universe, but not to travel into one she's never seen. In fact, the only person who theoretically could have opened a door to the Other Side is Peter himself.
While she may have had a recent chance to practice her abilities, the fact remains that they're still too weak and unpredictable. If she wants to use them to walk between worlds unscathed (which, after a Massive Dynamic tech demonstrates how quickly atoms destabilize after crossing over, truly does seem like a powerful talent), she'll barely be able to haul herself to the Other Side and back, let alone both herself and Peter. They all agree she'll need help.
The help Massive Dynamic offers, though, isn't at all what she expects.
Three of her old classmates from Jacksonville -- classmates, she thinks, how benign -- look up as she walks into the room: James Heath, Sally Clark, and Nick Lane. James cradles a rabbit, the cuts on its face slowly healing as she watches. The fireball between Sally's hands disappears. When Nick breaks into a grin and exclaims, "Olive!" the whole room bursts out laughing as his empathic transfer races through them. Even Olivia feels the corners of his lips rise.
"Nick," Sally chides, and the laugher cuts out as Nick's smile takes on a more embarrassed bent. Sally, though, is all gentle pride. "Very good, baby."
Walter has always maintained that a psychic connection lingered between those involved in the Cortexiphan trials. Get them in proximity, and they'll provide a boost to each others' abilities. Between the four of them, then, they ought to muster up enough energy to slip across the barrier and reach the Other Side.
That happens tomorrow morning, though. Tonight, they're free to do whatever they see fit.
Olivia spends her evening pacing along the streets of Boston, not willing to go home until well after midnight. Rachel and Ella, visiting for a few days, are already asleep; Olivia continues her pacing without interruption, dozing off on the couch, waking a few hours later with a start. It's not like her to be so on edge before going into the field -- but then again, this is anything but a normal field mission.
At six AM, she tiptoes into the guest bedroom. Ella's still fast asleep. Gently, Olivia lowers herself onto the bed, and for a long moment, all she does is watch the rise and fall of her niece's chest. Then, with equal care, she reaches behind her neck to unclasp the chain of her crucifix necklace.
(The pendant Jack Green gave her has stayed in her nightstand since she got home. Olivia's pretty certain its protection won't work over here.)
Just as she gives consideration to waking her up, Ella's eyes flutter open. She frowns, blurry with sleep. "Aunt Liv?" she mumbles. "What time is it?"
Olivia glances at the clock. "It's early," she says, and lets out a small, apologetic laugh. Running the chain of the necklace between her fingers, she smiles down at her niece as she turns the pendant toward her. "I have to go on a trip, and, ah...I wanted to give you something before I left."
Blinking, Ella reaches out to touch the crucifix. After a beat, she smiles back and says, "It's pretty."
Olivia nods. "My mother," she says as she refastens the clasp, "your grandmother -- gave it to me before she died." She spreads the loop of the chain. Obediently, Ella leans forward, lifting her head enough for Olivia to slip the jewelry around her neck. "She told me that it would keep me safe. So now I'm giving it to you."
Ella's smile grows. Leaning up, she plants a firm kiss on Olivia's cheek. "Thanks, Aunt Liv."
Olivia can feel the edges of her smile begin to falter. Without thinking, she immediately shores them up to firmness. "You are welcome, baby girl," she whispers.
Six-fifteen AM. All that's left to do is pack. As she's holstering her gun in the living room, Rachel emerges, sleep-tousled and bleary. "You're up early," she remarks as she stuffs her hands in the pockets of her robe. "I didn't even hear you come in last night."
"No, I've been working a case." The gun slides home; she brushes her jacket back over her holster.
"Think you'll be home for dinner?"
Olivia hesitates, just long enough for her throat to start closing up. "I hope so," she says, pushing past the lump. "I'll call you and let you know."
Rachel just nods. "'Kay," she mumbles with a sleepy smile.
Rachel's her little sister; Olivia's always felt the need to look out for her. She wouldn't have entered the FBI if she didn't want to serve and protect. But right then, as Rachel blinks with the same muzzy concern she passed down to Ella, a surge of even fiercer protectiveness floods Olivia's chest. Trying to mask it with a grin and a tiny laugh, she reaches out to pull Rachel into a hug.
Just as Olivia knows her sister, so her sister knows her. Rachel tightens her own embrace. "Hey, you okay?" she asks.
The lump thickens. "Yeah," she whispers. Olivia feels her expression start to collapse; again, she steadies it, and by the time she pulls back she's all smiles. "We should do this more often. It's nice."
Rachel just shakes her head, laughing a little in puzzlement. "Sure," she says.
As Olivia grabs her keys and heads out, she can hear the pattering of footsteps as Ella races out of the bedroom. She waits until the door's shut before pressing the side of her hand to her mouth, breathing carefully, working to bury the emotions as deep as they'll go.
One more breath. She squares her shoulders. Checks her watch: 6:20 AM.
In a few hours, if all goes well, she'll be on the Other Side.