(This is purely for fun. I do NOT own Fringe, any versions of Olivia Dunham, any pictures or graphics here on this blog. If you would like to be credited, please drop me a message, thanks!)
Wonderful manip of O² in the directory is done by the awesome setthedarkonfire!
Olivia: Curiosity killed the cat.
Alt!livia: Awww, concerned, Agent Dunham?
The card arrived, right on time, as it did each year. October 21st was never a good day for her since she was 9. Her stepfather, the bastard- haunting her, tormenting her. Reminding her that he was still out there and that he could find her wherever she went.
He didn’t have to ask if she got it, he could tell. Reaching home later than she did was uncommon, but he had to assure Walter that Olivia was fine and she didn’t need a meatloaf, pudding or any kind of food. The whiskey bottle was out, sitting next to her as she leaned on the kitchen counter. Instead of sipping, as she usually did, she gulped the amber liquid down.
“I know the card’s here, but that’s no reason to get drunk, Olivia,” He folded his arms, leaning on the fridge facing her.
Downing that one last mouth of whiskey, she placed the empty glass behind her. Olivia watched him watching her. Every year, on this day, he would treat her differently, looking out for signs that she was breaking.
“…you know, he got drunk and he hurt my mother, Peter. She hurt and bled and she laid there broken, just because he was drunk and accused her for things she hadn’t done. So, no. This is why I do not get drunk.”
Placing the bottle back down after having poured herself one more glass, her shoulders sagged from all the unnecessary burden she placed on herself. Olivia Dunham, carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. He kept quiet, waiting for her to speak.
“I’ve seen so much and experienced things beyond anyone’s imagination, I should get the luxury of being drunk once in a while. But I don’t. I don’t get drunk because I don’t want to become like him.” The glass of whiskey stayed untouched as she lowered her gaze.
“Olivia…” He moved towards her and cupped her cheek. “You’re nothing like him.”
She turned into his palm, the warmth comforting her. “We don’t know that, Peter. There’s always a side of us that we keep dormant. What if I’m exactly like him?”
“But you aren’t,” A slight tug lead her into his embrace. “I’m here, Olivia. And I’ll be here, always, no matter what.”
And as she wrapped her arms around him, she couldn’t help but wonder if his being here could save her from herself.
For one thing, he doesn’t think that Mantis is a terrible name for a superhero. In fact, he’s a fan. Lincoln has a little more self confidence too, it could be the air here that led to that, but it’s still fun to tease him once in a while. He’s also taken up the room mate’s responsibility of feeding me since he’s the better cook. And he started calling me Liv last week, took him long enough too.
Olivia: I tend to lean towards neutral colours. I guess I’m more of a dog person, but I’ve never had time for a pet. And as for food, I would say Indian food.
Alt!livia: I didn’t really think about it before, dying my hair another colour. Hmm, I prefer darker colours and spicy food. My favourite animal would be Lincoln anything but cats. I got scratched by a family cat when I was young, horrid creature.
(All the gifs on this blog are found from Tumblr through the Olivia Dunham/ Alt!liv tags.)
I could tell. I mean, he did kiss me once. But I had Frank back then and Lincoln was the one I could lean on after Frank left. I think we could have worked out, if given the time.
