Fic: Back of your head
Title: Back of your head
Reviews: yes please
Summary: It's amazing what the human mind is able to remember, if poked and prodded enough.
Rating: safe, minor mention of drug use.
Walter Bishop is not a man to believe in may have been.
He's a scientist, and scientists believe in what they see. He's forgotten when he first broke that rule, rendering him an outcast among his peers. He is good at what he does, there's no question about it, but he feels he can be better at something he's not doing.
He shuffles into the empty apartment, full of books and long forgotten take out containers. He sits in his easy chair and stares at the picture of his late wife. It's been two years and five months now, when God finally decided that she'd suffered enough and took her away. Her final words still resound in the back of his head, screaming even when he drops enough acid.
"Peter, his name is Peter"
He's always liked the name, and campaigned for it in that long winter of '77, when they finally decided that the time was right. One part after Peter, one part after her brother that died long ago. When he tries hard enough, he can envision his son. A beautiful baby, a vivacious toddler and child, a sullen teenager. A handsome man. Brown hair and blue eyes, tall and strong. He sees him with a blonde woman, sitting on the deck on a sunny Easter Sunday morning.
"Pretty girls deserve pretty scarves"
He never actually expected her to be in the audience today. She looks haunted, like she's missing something that's right in front of her. She wore the scarf from the dream, the one with the birds and the red trim. His eye was immediately drawn to it, before moving up to see her face. It took her a minute to realise he was staring right at her, and her face went from wonder to shock. He imagines that seeing a ghost invokes the same reaction.
He leans back and stares at the snow falling outside.
The Observer stands across the street from Dr. Bishops apartment building, not in the least bothered with the rapidly falling snow. He writes something in his notebook, before looking up at the window one last time and walking away. Humans are strange creatures, he thinks, and then he realises that they really can remember everything if they try. Even things that were carefully locked and hidden in the back of their memory. He lied yesterday, about the lock which is not fool proof anymore, and tonight, he's convinced that they have indeed underestimated the strength of human relationships.