fanfic: You Can't Forget This
Title: You Can't Forget This
Author: i_like_neon_ice
Fandom: Fringe
Character/Pairing: Peter, Young Peter, Peter/Olivia
Rating: Appropriate for all audiences of all ages from both universes
Words: 989
Spoilers: Up through 3x22
Notes: Made for the fringeverse pattern event. Prompt: Out of Character
“I've seen Doomsday, and it is worse than anything you could possibly imagine. This isn't a war that can be won. Our two worlds are inextricable. If one side dies, we all die. So I've torn holes in both the universes and they lead here, to this room. A bridge so that we can begin to work together to fix -“
Peter Bishop felt the pain before he recognized its source and instinctively shut his eyes against the searing light. There was nothing he could do about the overwhelming heat and pressure, however. Every molecule of his body was twisting, shrinking. Every nerve ending lit with supernatural contortion. He screamed without vocal chords and twisted a face which wasn't there in agony. In the vortex of white torment, one final thought ruptured through the primitive haze of pain and death, exploding outwards while the rest of his being collapsed towards a singular center-
Olivia
Then he was no more.
***
His chest was rising and falling with slow breaths, exhaling clouds of steam into the still air. The warmth of his core did not reach the parts of him contacting the frozen surface beneath his back and arms, and his skin prickled against the slick ice. He rose, shivering, and opened his eyes. The dimming twilight revealed an expanse of familiar shoreline nearby. His mother-
No. She wasn’t his mother.
The other Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen.
“Did I make it?” He wondered out loud. “Am I back home? “
The evergreens lining the edge of the lake answered his small voice with silence, dark branches motionless and looming.
His feet made no sound as he stepped towards the frozen shore, bare skin padding through the drifts.
“Hello?” He shouted, “Dad! Mom! Dad?”
Not a sound replied.
Bare rock peppered the land where the ice met solid ground, but Peter did not notice as shards sliced and tore at him. He stumbled in the direction of the lake house, swallowing hope and the small pit of unwelcome fear, focused on finding a source of shelter from the cold.
He hiked, snow and naked feet equally resistant to the other’s temperature. The trees grew closer together, their frozen limbs clawing at his bare shoulders, snaring in his dark hair. No birds called above, and besides his breath, the air scarcely stirred around him. Time rolled by. The black of night enveloped him, but the light from a hundred million stars lit his path. The cold did not penetrate him, and soon he forgot the pressing need for shelter.
The sun rose, shooting violet shadows into unfamiliar bands across the forest floor. Peter’s thoughts seemed to take hours. His pace slowed to a near-stop, and slowly, he lowered himself into the softness of the white drifts, relaxed and forgetful of the lake and the house. Turning his head, his gaze rested on two small, shimmering coins. Then he was palming one in each hand, examining the familiar grooves. Their faces seemed to hold matching male voices-one commanding with harsh edges, the other rambling, gentle.
Dream-like images he didn’t understand floated across his consciousness. Hair the color of spun gold, sprayed across a pillow. A black sky filled with specks of silver flakes which he knew somehow didn’t belong, sweet and knowing laughter tinkling at his ears. He saw a vulnerable, pleading green gaze and then phantom lips whispered, because you belong with me. Scenes he did not understand and people he did not know passed before him. At one point he felt a tiny hand press against his, and that same green gaze smiled up at him and he knew that he had passed her test.
People have been tricking me, but I knew the real you would recognize me
The green eyes turned to blue, wrinkles framing lashes. Kind, concerned eyes creased with laughter and knowledge. These then turned to warm brown, the smooth planes of a feminine face turning into a friendly smile. These people, they meant something to him, but he could not remember their names.
The phantom lips touched his face.
Peter, I love you
Something inside surged and ached, but the will to identify that voice left him alongside the desire to walk on. The too-bright sun rose and fell in the sky, and the violet shadows stretched and shortened and stretched again.
Soon the sun disappeared completely, and an unnatural glow in a shade he couldn’t identify dappled across his chest. Peter’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, and the snow cushioned his bare back, alien and unmelting. Gradually the dreams left his mind, the warmth left his body, and the air left his lungs. The coins and the phantom fell silent. And the stars above blurred together and then melted around him.
***
A lifetime later, his chest rose with another breath and he opened his eyes.
“Peter?”
The most beautiful stars filled his vision.
No, they were eyes.
Her eyes.
The world was upside down, and it took a moment to figure out which way gravity was pulling at his body. His back pressed against something soft, but it wasn’t the foreign snow.
“One consciousness. One glorious consciousness!” The kind blue eyes laughed and crinkled and wept, and Peter couldn’t help but grin back at him.
Then confusion settled over his clouded mind.
“What happened to me?”
Her warm hand was on his cheek, and she asked, “What do you remember?”
Memories of ice and a place of quiet trees and violet shadows lurked in his mind, but he would not remember such things until his breath left his body again.
The phantom in his head gave a knowing smile.
You can't forget this
Recognition flooded through every sense then, and all he knew was Olivia’s face and her hands and her soul.
“I remember you.”
She held him then, for he was tangible and unforgettable and real.
Welcome home, Peter.
***
Fin
Author: i_like_neon_ice
Fandom: Fringe
Character/Pairing: Peter, Young Peter, Peter/Olivia
Rating: Appropriate for all audiences of all ages from both universes
Words: 989
Spoilers: Up through 3x22
Notes: Made for the fringeverse pattern event. Prompt: Out of Character
“I've seen Doomsday, and it is worse than anything you could possibly imagine. This isn't a war that can be won. Our two worlds are inextricable. If one side dies, we all die. So I've torn holes in both the universes and they lead here, to this room. A bridge so that we can begin to work together to fix -“
Peter Bishop felt the pain before he recognized its source and instinctively shut his eyes against the searing light. There was nothing he could do about the overwhelming heat and pressure, however. Every molecule of his body was twisting, shrinking. Every nerve ending lit with supernatural contortion. He screamed without vocal chords and twisted a face which wasn't there in agony. In the vortex of white torment, one final thought ruptured through the primitive haze of pain and death, exploding outwards while the rest of his being collapsed towards a singular center-
Olivia
Then he was no more.
***
His chest was rising and falling with slow breaths, exhaling clouds of steam into the still air. The warmth of his core did not reach the parts of him contacting the frozen surface beneath his back and arms, and his skin prickled against the slick ice. He rose, shivering, and opened his eyes. The dimming twilight revealed an expanse of familiar shoreline nearby. His mother-
No. She wasn’t his mother.
The other Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen.
“Did I make it?” He wondered out loud. “Am I back home? “
The evergreens lining the edge of the lake answered his small voice with silence, dark branches motionless and looming.
His feet made no sound as he stepped towards the frozen shore, bare skin padding through the drifts.
“Hello?” He shouted, “Dad! Mom! Dad?”
Not a sound replied.
Bare rock peppered the land where the ice met solid ground, but Peter did not notice as shards sliced and tore at him. He stumbled in the direction of the lake house, swallowing hope and the small pit of unwelcome fear, focused on finding a source of shelter from the cold.
He hiked, snow and naked feet equally resistant to the other’s temperature. The trees grew closer together, their frozen limbs clawing at his bare shoulders, snaring in his dark hair. No birds called above, and besides his breath, the air scarcely stirred around him. Time rolled by. The black of night enveloped him, but the light from a hundred million stars lit his path. The cold did not penetrate him, and soon he forgot the pressing need for shelter.
The sun rose, shooting violet shadows into unfamiliar bands across the forest floor. Peter’s thoughts seemed to take hours. His pace slowed to a near-stop, and slowly, he lowered himself into the softness of the white drifts, relaxed and forgetful of the lake and the house. Turning his head, his gaze rested on two small, shimmering coins. Then he was palming one in each hand, examining the familiar grooves. Their faces seemed to hold matching male voices-one commanding with harsh edges, the other rambling, gentle.
Dream-like images he didn’t understand floated across his consciousness. Hair the color of spun gold, sprayed across a pillow. A black sky filled with specks of silver flakes which he knew somehow didn’t belong, sweet and knowing laughter tinkling at his ears. He saw a vulnerable, pleading green gaze and then phantom lips whispered, because you belong with me. Scenes he did not understand and people he did not know passed before him. At one point he felt a tiny hand press against his, and that same green gaze smiled up at him and he knew that he had passed her test.
People have been tricking me, but I knew the real you would recognize me
The green eyes turned to blue, wrinkles framing lashes. Kind, concerned eyes creased with laughter and knowledge. These then turned to warm brown, the smooth planes of a feminine face turning into a friendly smile. These people, they meant something to him, but he could not remember their names.
The phantom lips touched his face.
Peter, I love you
Something inside surged and ached, but the will to identify that voice left him alongside the desire to walk on. The too-bright sun rose and fell in the sky, and the violet shadows stretched and shortened and stretched again.
Soon the sun disappeared completely, and an unnatural glow in a shade he couldn’t identify dappled across his chest. Peter’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, and the snow cushioned his bare back, alien and unmelting. Gradually the dreams left his mind, the warmth left his body, and the air left his lungs. The coins and the phantom fell silent. And the stars above blurred together and then melted around him.
***
A lifetime later, his chest rose with another breath and he opened his eyes.
“Peter?”
The most beautiful stars filled his vision.
No, they were eyes.
Her eyes.
The world was upside down, and it took a moment to figure out which way gravity was pulling at his body. His back pressed against something soft, but it wasn’t the foreign snow.
“One consciousness. One glorious consciousness!” The kind blue eyes laughed and crinkled and wept, and Peter couldn’t help but grin back at him.
Then confusion settled over his clouded mind.
“What happened to me?”
Her warm hand was on his cheek, and she asked, “What do you remember?”
Memories of ice and a place of quiet trees and violet shadows lurked in his mind, but he would not remember such things until his breath left his body again.
The phantom in his head gave a knowing smile.
You can't forget this
Recognition flooded through every sense then, and all he knew was Olivia’s face and her hands and her soul.
“I remember you.”
She held him then, for he was tangible and unforgettable and real.
Welcome home, Peter.
***
Fin