Fic: Before, An Ellipsis

[tcbg77]

Title: Before, An Ellipsis
Fandom: Fringe
Characters: Ella, Olivia, Rachel
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Set between 3x21 and 3x22
Summary: Fifteen years of slow apocalypse through Ella’s eyes


About a third of a way through her seventh year, Ella decided she'd had just about enough of being seven. It turned out that being seven wasn’t much different from being six: her bedtime stayed the same, she was only allowed one hour of television a night, and adults still wouldn’t listen to her. When her mom wanted to move back to Chicago because Ella’s dad got a job there, Ella had very reasonably argued that there were plenty of jobs in Boston. Her mom had very unreasonably replied that until Ella turned eighteen, this family was not a democracy (whatever that meant), and that had been the end of it.

Ella tried really hard to like Chicago, because that’s where her dad was, but everything was all wrong there. The kids at her new school were alright, but none of them were like Travis Jackson who was her best friend in Boston. Travis had a treehouse and three pet snakes. Everyone at her new school seemed impressed just because Alina Goldman brought a guinea pig in for show-and-tell.

Chicago was also cold. Boston had been cold sometimes, but Chicago was cold cold. Even after her mom smooshed her into two shirts, a scratchy wool sweater, a big orange puffy coat, boots, mittens, and a hat with earflaps and bright orange pompoms hanging down, Ella nearly fell over the first time she caught a great big gust of November wind. Sometimes she felt like she couldn’t breathe, it was so cold.

And as much as Ella liked being around her dad again, she missed Aunt Liv. When she got the call from Olivia on her seventh birthday, Ella had been more excited to hear from her than she was about any of her presents. Olivia had sounded funny when she called, though, and then her voice had cut out. Her mom had told her it was probably just a bad connection, even though Ella tried to tell her there was something wrong with Olivia. But, as usual, no one listened to her.

They kept trying to visit Boston at the beginning of that year-Ella was always begging them to go-but there always seemed to be something going on with Olivia’s work that made it hard for them to visit. She also never seemed able to talk with them for very long on the phone, and when she did talk, she never seemed to want to talk about the things they had done together in the past. It wasn’t until Ella was almost eight that Aunt Liv’s work finally seemed to let up enough for them to visit.

When Ella first spotted Aunt Liv in the Boston airport, she had flung herself into Olivia’s arms so hard that Olivia nearly toppled over, laughing the whole time. Ella had immediately started filling Olivia in on all the things she had missed, her voice a train run amuck, and she didn’t miss the way her mom shared a look with Olivia over Ella’s head and rolled her eyes. It wasn’t until the next day-after Ella woke Olivia up at the faintest hint of morning sunlight so they could make pancakes-that Ella realized how sad Aunt Liv was. She couldn’t quite say how she knew something was different. It was like…it was hard to explain. Ella knew Olivia had an important job, even before everything got really bad. But in the past, whenever Aunt Liv was with Ella, it was like a switch went off and she forgot all about everything that wasn’t there and then.

But now, it was like Olivia was trying really, really hard to forget something-she would play with Ella, and read to her with all the voices, and sound excited about whatever they were going to do-but she hadn’t forgotten. Ella could tell.

Still, it was a good visit. Ella got to go to the lab and see Uncle Walter and Astrid and Gene and Peter, and she even got Aunt Liv to take her on the rollercoasters again. Ella knew her mom had a good time too, because she overheard her telling Aunt Liv how much she missed being in Boston. Rachel definitely didn’t know Ella was listening, because she talked about how she and Ella’s dad were having a rough patch again, which she never talked about when Ella was around. Not that it was a secret or anything. Ella loved her dad, but she had also gotten pretty used to never knowing how long the good patches would last, or how often “just on a break” would last. As guilty as Ella felt even thinking it, she sometimes thought her mom was happier when it was just the two of them. Three, if you counted Aunt Liv.

*****

When Ella was nine, she got her wish: they moved back to Boston. Rachel got a job in the city right around the time one of her “bad patches” with Ella’s dad was turning into a whole field of bad. Aunt Liv was sympathetic when her sister talked about how hard it had been in Chicago, but Ella could tell she was secretly glad they had moved back.

It was around this time that Ella started noticing the way things were changing. She wouldn’t normally pay that much attention to the news-she might be curioser than a lot of kids her age, but she also had youth’s ability to accept even the strangest occurrence as the natural order of things-but she paid attention because her mom seemed particularly concerned about the changes. First there was the blight in the west, the one that killed all those cows (the pictures were awful; Ella couldn’t help seeing them, even though her mom tried to hide the paper away when she got up in the morning). Then there were the rumors about the “disturbances,” the ones none of the news reporters seemed to know what to call at first (not until they became an almost weekly occurrence would reporters who used the words “vortex” and “wormhole” not be immediately ridiculed).

One day, Ella was sprawled out on her stomach reading a book in their Charlestown apartment, the news playing quietly in the background. She glanced up when the show was interrupted by a special news report. “Mom!” Ella had shouted excitedly, looking towards the kitchen where her mom was making dinner. “Look! Aunt Liv’s on t.v.!”

Her mom had rushed in, wiping her hands on her apron, and sunk onto the couch, not saying a word as she turned up the volume. Aunt Liv was in front of a stand talking to a bunch of reporters, and Mr. Broyles was standing behind her. Aunt Liv mentioned something called Fringe Division a lot, and she seemed to be talking about all the crazy things that had been in the news recently. Then Mr. Broyles stepped up to the microphone and started answering questions too. Ella stayed extra quiet, hoping her mom would forget she was there and let her watch the whole thing. For once, this strategy worked: it was like her mother couldn’t tear her eyes away from the screen.

Later that evening, Aunt Liv came by, after the time Ella was supposed to be in bed. Ella hadn’t been able to sleep, though, and the moment she heard Olivia’s voice, she snuck to the bottom of the stairs to eavesdrop.

“-know. I really am sorry you had to learn that way,” she heard Aunt Liv say, her voice apologetic. “But they ambushed us-some reporter got tipped off to the meetings we were having with DHS, and we had to come out with a statement to do damage control.” She sighed. “It was bound to come out soon anyway. The conspiracy theorists have been going nuts for months. I guess for once the reality is actually stranger than the conspiracies.”

“Jesus, Olivia,” Ella heard her mom say, and Ella could imagine her shaking her head in disbelief. “This is what you’ve been doing at work? When did it start?”

“Almost five years ago, when I got that transfer. Right around the time John died. But it wasn’t always this bad-the things that are happening now, those are new.”

“Jesus,” her mom said again, but this time she said it quieter, almost like it was actually a prayer. “I mean, Ella would always come home with stories about the lab, but she’s Ella; I thought she was just using her imagination.”

Olivia chuckled. “Well, the story she tells about me being a private eye and Walter inventing hugs are definitely not real. But some of the other parts are.”

But Rachel didn’t seem to think it was very funny. “This is crazy, Liv. All this stuff about wormholes and vortexes. And they say there’s a whole new strain of the flu in Michigan, and all those birds are dying in California, and there’s those rumors about Taipei. And they’re starting to say it’s connected. This can’t be real.”

“I know,” Olivia said quietly. “I know it’s a lot to take in. And I wish I could tell you more, I really do, but we’re still trying to figure out the extent of the damage ourselves.”

“I just…I just don’t know what to do,” her mom said, sounding so lost. “Last year I was worried about school districting and making sure Ella didn’t talk to strangers and making her wear a helmet on her bike. Now I have to worry about wormholes? How am I supposed to protect her from that?”

“That’s what we’re working on,” Olivia said, her voice the same soothing one Ella’s mother used on her whenever she got upset. “We’ve already started expanding Fringe Division, which will actually be a lot easier now that we’ve gone public. We’ve got some of the top scientists in the world working on solutions. We can beat this.” Olivia’s tone turned wry. “Besides, the reporters are blowing the vortexes way out of proportion-there’ve only been a few isolated incidents so far. They wouldn’t even be so public if it weren’t for the fact that you can’t sneeze anymore without having a youtube video go viral. Believe me: right now, Ella’s much more likely to get hurt falling off the monkey bars than getting sucked into a wormhole.”

Rachel let out a shaky breath, only partly reassured. “Well, I guess if anyone’s trying to stop this, I’m glad it’s you. But you’re being careful, right? I don’t think I could handle it if something…just, be careful, okay?”

“I will,” Aunt Liv said softly. Then she sighed. “I hate to do this, but I have to go now. I have a headache just thinking about all the calls I’ll need to return in the morning. I just wanted to let you know what’s going on, before you learn any more of it from the news.”

“Thank you,” Rachel replied sincerely.

“Kiss Ella goodnight for me, will you?” Olivia said. “I’ll try to come by and see her when things calm down a little bit.”

“Sure,” Rachel answered, before adding in a rush, “I love you, okay?”

“I know,” Olivia said, and Ella knew she was smiling. “I love you too.”

Ella started when she heard that, because she knew her mom would be up in a minute to check in on her. She scrambled up the stairs as quietly as she could and slipped under the covers. A few minutes later, she heard her mom come up the stairs and gently push the door open. Ella scrunched her eyes tight, trying to seem as asleep as possible. She expected her mom to give her a quick kiss like she always did, then go to bed herself. Instead, she could feel her mom standing there, just looking at her. After a moment, she felt the light touch of her mother brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes. Rachel stood there for a long time. Ella thought at first it would make it extra hard to pretend to be asleep, but after a couple of seconds, she relaxed. It felt safer like this, somehow. Finally, she felt the delicate brush of her mother’s lips on her forehead. “Be safe, Ella. Sweet dreams.”

*****

Ella adjusted to the way things changed-to the way hamburgers were suddenly only for special occasions, to the new signs and alarms and symbols all the kids at school had to start memorizing, to the video of Dora the Explorer cheerfully explaining what to do if you noticed a vortex in space. It was an ability unique to youth, this power to take everything in stride.

But Ella had a harder time when Uncle Walter started showing up on t.v. Her mom wouldn’t let her watch the reports of his trial, but the kids at school talked about it plenty. One day, Kieran Anderson had puffed up his chest and told everyone that his dad was a cop, and that he was going to shoot Walter Bishop for what he did. When Ella heard that, she turned to Kieran and shoved him, hard, and told him to shut his stupid face-he didn’t know what he was talking about. Kieran looked stunned, which was how Ella felt. She had never shoved anyone before, not like that. She didn’t think it was just about Walter, either; it was about the way all the adults in her life looked scared all the time, even though adults are the ones who are supposed know what was going on.

Her teacher Mrs. Dennison must have been surprised by Ella’s actions too, because she immediately pulled her to the corner so they could talk. “Ella, sweetheart, what’s gotten into you?”

Ella shrugged sullenly, which was also not very much like her. “He said his dad wanted to shoot Walter. But he doesn’t know what he’s talking about; none of them do. I know Walter, and he wouldn’t do all those things they say he did.”

“Ella,” Mrs. Dennison said, her voice taking on that infuriatingly patient tone adults always used on her, “the Walter they’re talking about on t.v. isn’t the same one you know, I promise. You may know a Walter, but I think you’re getting him confused with this one.”

“I am not!” Ella insisted. “My Aunt Liv used to work with him in her lab. I used to visit him sometimes.”

But Mrs. Dennison was shaking her head. “No, honey,” she began. “You must be thinking of a different-.“ Then she stopped and seemed to do a double-take. “Dunham. Your last name is Dunham.” Her eyes went wide as she looked at Ella in some new light. “Jesus,” she said, before clapping her hands over her mouth. “I’m so sorry-I shouldn’t have said that,” she said between her fingers.

“It’s okay,” Ella said, shrugging. “My mom says that all the time.”

Mrs. Dennison smiled slightly, letting her hands fall back to her side. She hesitated for a moment, studying Ella’s face. “Is your aunt Olivia Dunham? Who works with the Fringe Division?” Ella nodded, and Mrs. Dennison sighed. “I see. I think this is a conversation you need to have with your mother. I’ll talk to her when she picks you up. I’ll tell Kieran not to talk about shooting anybody anymore, but I need you to apologize for shoving him.”

Ella scowled, but she nodded her assent. Kieran Anderson was an idiot, in her opinion, but she supposed she shouldn’t have pushed him, since he didn’t know Walter like she did.

When her mom came by that afternoon, Mrs. Dennison talked to her for a little while. On the car ride back, her mother kept glancing her way, but she didn’t really say anything. When they got home, they immediately went into the living room, which is where they went whenever they were having a Talk.

“So,” Rachel began. “Do you want to talk about Walter?”

Ella nodded. “Did he really do all the things they say he did?”

Rachel looked at her, as if trying to decide how much to say. Then she sighed and sank down onto the chair facing Ella’s. “I don’t know all the details. But I do know what they said at his trial, which is that his experiments are why we’re having all this trouble. They’re why we have the vortexes and the blights, and a lot of the other bad things that have been happening. But I also know that Peter spoke at Walter’s trial, and he said that Walter never meant to do the things he did. That’s what your Aunt Olivia thinks, too.”

“Walter wouldn’t do those things on purpose,” Ella insisted. “We were friends-he wasn’t like that.”

“I know,” her mom said sadly. “And I think he might be a better man now, and that he’s very, very sorry for what he did.”

“But if he’s sorry, shouldn’t they let him go?” Ella said, finding that she was on the verge of tears. “That’s what they always teach you, right? That if you’re really, truly sorry, it’s okay?”

“Baby,” her mom said, rising to her feet to sit beside Ella. She folded her up in her arms, tucking her head under her chin. “Sometimes being sorry just isn’t enough, if what you did was bad enough.”

*****

Twelve was the year of both the chocolate shortage and 6th grade, two events Ella considered equally catastrophic. But twelve was also the year of Aunt Liv and Peter’s wedding, so it wasn’t all bad.

Ella was too old to be the flower girl, and Aunt Liv and Peter didn’t want bridesmaids or groomsmen, but they did ask Ella to hold onto the rings. Aunt Liv wore a light blue dress, not one of those big poofy white ones, and Peter actually shaved for the occasion. The simple ceremony was held outside in a big gardeny area. Her mom spent the whole ceremony sniffling into a handkerchief, something Ella used to think only existed in stories.

After the ceremony, Ella snuck away so she could take off her stockings and shoes and walk around barefoot. She wished she didn’t have to keep wearing the dress. Like everything else she owned these days, it didn’t seem to fit her right. She was all of the sudden too tall, her arms and legs too long. Adults kept using the expression, “Growing like a weed,” and that’s how she felt sometimes: like a weed, tall and ungainly and not particularly pretty. She had decided long ago that it was a stupid expression.

But Ella was too excited about the wedding to think much about the complete unfairness of being twelve. Olivia had smiled so big the whole day, Ella thought her face might freeze that way. Ella also got to see Astrid for the first time in a long time. Astrid was a full agent with Fringe Division now, but she acted the same as always with Ella, agreeing very seriously with her that heels were invented by a sadistic madman with a height complex. Ella even talked to Mr. Broyles for a little while, though she found him nearly as intimidating as she had when she was seven.

It wasn’t a huge wedding, but there were a lot of people there Ella didn’t know. She found herself wandering towards the gazebo, drawn to the light green vines and delicate lavender wisteria twisting around its arches. She found Peter leaning against one of its pillars. During the ceremony, Ella had for the first time really thought about the fact that neither Olivia nor Peter had a mother or father to witness the occasion. Even though Ella knew by now just how terrible Walter was, some part of her wished he could have been there to see how happy his son was. She thought that maybe Peter was having the same thought, because his gaze at that moment was distant and unfocused.

“Hi,” she said softly, walking up to him.

Peter blinked, banishing whatever he was thinking about as he turned to look at her. A slow smile worked itself to his face. “Well hi back. You did an excellent job with the rings, by the way. I might just hire you the next time I get married.”

“I don’t think Aunt Liv would like that very much,” Ella suggested, and Peter laughed.

“Probably not.”

“So,” Ella said, scrunching up her nose, “do I have to call you Uncle Peter now?”

Peter winced. “God, I hope not-I don’t like the sound of that at all. How about you just call me Peter like always. Otherwise I’ll have to start calling you Niece Ella, and that just won’t do.”

Ella giggled. “Good. Uncle Peter sounds like one of those uncles who drinks too much and sings karaoke at family reunions. Want to get some cake?”

“You know, that sounds just about perfect right now.”

The two of them made their way towards the cake table; Aunt Liv met up with them about halfway there. She and Peter grinned at each other as Olivia slipped her hand into his.

“Where have you two been?”

“Oh, you know,” Peter said expansively, “plotting world destruction, discussing the financial times, cake.”

“I see,” Olivia said, lifting an eyebrow in amusement. She turned to Ella. “I’m not much for dancing, but Rachel insisted we have music at the reception. I guess you’re too old to stand on my shoes now, though.”

“Probably,” Ella said seriously. “But if you get Broyles to let you dance on his shoes, I’ll do whatever you want.”

Olivia let out a startled laugh before shaking her head. “You’re a demon-child, you know that? Let’s go find your mother so I can reassure her that you two are definitely related.”

*****

Tenth grade Civics with Mr. Parson was quite possibly the most boring class on the most boring subject in the history of time. Or at least that’s how it felt on an uncommonly warm Thursday afternoon in September, the red oaks that dotted campus changing their colors just out of reach of the second-floor window. Maybe if it had been Biology, or even Calculus, Ella would have been able to pay attention. But right now, all she wanted to do was roll down a hill or something, global governance be damned.

“Can I go to the restroom?” Jeremy Fisher asked, raising his hand.

“What? Hm?” Mr. Parsons said, blinking up from the book he was reading from. “Yes, fine,” he said, waving his hand dismissively before returning to his very important droning. Jeremy slid his books off his desk, smirking at Mr. Parson’s complete obliviousness to the very evident fact that Jeremy would not be returning to class that day.

Ella looked over at her friend Sadie, who jerked her thumb towards Jeremy and mimed smoking a cigarette. Ella hid a smile, knowing exactly where Jeremy was going. There was a small room in the basement near the old art rooms. It was probably once for storage, but everyone but the kids skipping class seemed to have forgotten it existed. Ella had been there for the first time last week, mainly because Sadie had a thing for Eric Walker, who liked to think he was hot shit because he was a senior and only went to about half his classes, and spent the rest smoking himself a black lung in the basement room. Truthfully, Ella hated skipping class, even one as boring as Civics. She had only gone to the basement that time because she had a free period, although she made sure not to mention that fact to the others.

Eric had been there, along with Monica Belaro, Simon Tran, and Jeremy. Jeremy wasn’t even hanging out with them; he was resting (or maybe sleeping) on an old, lumpy, puke-green couch that had been left in the basement probably since the nineties. He had his earphones jammed in his ears, and didn’t seem to hear Eric, even when he shouted a question at him three times. Finally, Monica had rolled her eyes and gone over to shove Jeremy, who started out of the couch like he had just been shot, before scowling at all of them. Monica ignored his look. “Eric wants to know if you have a light.” Wordlessly, Jeremy reached in his pocket and handed her a BIC lighter before pushing the fallen earbud back in his ear and going back to sleep.

(Of all the plants exposed to the various organic blights, tobacco had proven among the most resistant, much to the dismay of the FDA. Ella had recently read an article-one of those ones about youth trends that talked about kids her age like they were some kind of alien species-that discussed the dramatic rise in cigarette consumption among youth. The article claimed it was an “apathetic reaction to the uncertainty of modern times,” but Ella thought it was just because cigarettes were the only moderately cheap drug you could get these days. Teenagers being cheap seemed like one of those things that never went out of style.)

“Look at Ella, being all criminally-inclined,” Eric had said with a raised eyebrow as she and Sadie leaned against the wall.

Ella shrugged. “As far as I know, they can’t arrest you for skipping class yet. Maybe if they find out about me trading secrets to Deutsche Randabteilung…”

Eric allowed a small, twisting smile of amusement, meanwhile lighting up. He offered Sadie a cigarette, which Sadie accepted. He offered Ella one and she shook her head. It wasn’t like she was some goody two-shoes-she went to parties, she drank occasionally. It’s just, well, she liked school, and she liked her lungs even more. Plus, she had Mrs. Carleson’s Biology class next period, which was her favorite. Even though she didn’t think Mrs. Carleson would say anything if she smelled smoke, she had the unpleasant feeling the teacher would look disappointed, which was always the worst. Plus, there was the very real possibility her mother would murder her-straight-up murder, no manslaughter charges-if Ella got caught smoking. Eric just shrugged when she refused and started talking about the latest vortex in Memphis.

Sadie looked rapt, but Ella was a little bored, having already read all the details in the news. She supposed Eric was cute-in a bland, suburban goth kind of way. Truthfully, Ella was a lot more interested in Monica Belaro, who had choppy blond hair with streaks of red, who was the third smartest girl in school with the first smartest mouth, and who looked as bored by Eric talking as Ella was.

Ella was so caught up remembering that day that she nearly jerked out of her chair when she heard the first, jarring sounds of the alarm. It took her an extra moment to realize that it wasn’t the alarm for a fire, either; it had the extra, teeth-grinding pulse that indicated a Fringe Event.

Immediately, there was a pervasive air of panic as kids jumped out of their seats and began to head for the door, ignoring Mr. Parson’s calls of, “Stay calm, everyone! Orderly lines! Orderly!”

Ella was shoved along with the flow of student and faculty traffic, down the stairs and all the way out the front doors. She got outside just as the Fringe vans arrived, men and women in dark uniforms and shrapnel-proof vests jumping out of the vehicles lugging equipment and detection devices. Ella’s heart was pounding, her mouth suddenly dry as chalk. She had been near Fringe events, but never this near. And by the number of Fringe personnel arriving, she though it might be a big one, too.

She scanned the rushing Fringe faces, not quite daring to hope. When she caught sight of a familiar face, she couldn’t help shouting, “Aunt Liv!”

Olivia’s head jerked up from where she was barking out commands to several men and women, who were all nodding seriously. She said a final word to them and moved towards Ella.

“Ella, thank God!” Olivia said as she approached her. Ella hesitated as she got nearer, not sure if this was the kind of situation that allowed a hug. Olivia ended up taking the decision away from her by sweeping her up into a tight embrace before letting her go. She held her back the shoulders, staring directly into her eyes. “I need you to go with the others and get past the line of impact. There’s a tear opening up somewhere in the interior of the building. We’re initiating Amber Protocol in about six minutes.”

Ella nodded and immediately started moving towards the growing cluster of students beyond the tree line. As per protocol, each homeroom teacher was checking off the students in his or her homeroom. As Ella was walking back towards the others, a thought suddenly occurred to her, one that made her slightly ill. She looked around until she spotted Sadie and Dashyl Lane, who were both in her homeroom.

“Hey, you guys,” Ella said, trying to keep her voice calm as her gaze darted across the milling crowds of students. “Have any of you seen Jeremy? He left in the middle of class and never came back. Did he come out with any of you?”

They both shook their heads, their faces going taut as they began to scan the crowded area for Jeremy’s familiar face. He was also in their homeroom, and should have found them by now. Sadie bit her lip as she turned back to Ella.

“He must have heard-right?”

Ella didn’t say anything, just spun and ran back towards Olivia. When Olivia caught sight of her, she scowled. “What’re you doing here, Ella? I need you to get with the others.”

“I think there might still be someone in there,” Ella interrupted, the words tumbling out in a rush. “There’s this boy, Jeremy, and there’s this room in the basement away from everything. He was going there during last period, and he always wears his earphones. I think…I think he might not hear the alarm, if he was down there. We couldn’t find him with the others.”

Olivia’s face went grim, her mouth drawing into a tight line. “Where?”

“I can show you-“ Ella began, but Olivia cut her off immediately.

“Dammit, Ella-you’re not going in there. Just tell me how to find the room.”

Ella swallowed; Aunt Liv had never spoken to her like that before. But she knew there was no time to argue, so she gave Olivia directions as quickly and precisely as she could. Once she finished, Olivia gave a single nod before turning and heading back to the school. Ella watched from a distance as Olivia spoke a few terse words to one of the other agents in charge, who looked like he was protesting. Olivia ignored him and began to run towards the school entrance, where she was swallowed up inside.

Everything seemed to go quiet as Ella waited. She was vaguely aware of the panicked chatter of the students and faculty, the authoritative calls of the Fringe agents for everyone to stand back, the muffled beeping of detection equipment. But none of that was important. Ella waited, her eyes never leaving the entrance of the building. She only began to notice sound again when the countdown began, the one they used as a final warning to get everyone a safe distance from a potential ambering. Ella couldn’t even tell if she was breathing through the first part of the one-minute warning. With forty seconds left, the front door burst open and Jeremy came stumbling out, his face streaked with tears. Olivia was right behind him, and she practically shoved him as they sprinted towards the waiting Fringe van. Sound returned in a rush, and Ella suddenly felt all the force go out of her legs; she slumped to her knees, closing her eyes and breathing a prayer of thanks to no one in particular. A few seconds later, she watched as amber blossomed up from every side of her school, crawling up the sides of the walls, slipping through the windows, eating up the brick and mortar until only the very top of the building peeked out.

After all the last details had been taken care of and Olivia finally had some time free, she came looking for Ella. She found her sitting with her back against one of the oak trees on the edge of campus, staring at what used to be her school.

“Hey,” Olivia said quietly, sinking down onto the soft grass next to Ella and leaning back against the rough bark of the tree. She had taken off her vest and dark Fringe jacket; she was now only wearing a worn cotton shirt that nearly concealed the gun at her hip.

“Hey,” Ella replied, her eyes never leaving the building.

“You okay?”

Ella shrugged with one shoulder. “I was just thinking that I’ll never get to dissect a sheep’s heart. Mrs. Carleson was going to let us do that next week. And I was thinking about how many cell phones are probably trapped in there right now, and about all the unreturned papers, and that stupid mural the art class spent two months making. Such a waste.” She sighed. “I guess we’ll all have to go to Holbrooke for the rest of the semester. I didn’t think I’d have to start missing this place until after I left it.”

Olivia didn’t say anything, and for a moment the two of them sat in a comfortable silence. “You saved that boy’s life today, you know,” Olivia finally said. “I found him sleeping on this ratty couch, headphones in, completely oblivious.”

Ella smiled. “Sounds like Jeremy. He’s kind of an idiot.”

“Yeah, well, he’d be a dead idiot if it weren’t for you. I think I can convince your mother that this warrants another conversation about you getting Peter’s old car.”

“Seriously?” Ella said, her eyes lighting up. “I could totally handle that. Though mom’s gonna flip out when she finds out you ran into a building three minutes before it got ambered.”

“I know,” Olivia said grimly. “That’s is why I subscribe to the, ‘What you don’t know can’t hurt you’ philosophy when it comes to your mother.”

“You’re telling me,” Ella said, puffing out a breath of agreement.

Olivia rose to her feet, brushing off her pants. She held her hand out to Ella, who grabbed it and heaved herself up. “I think the junior agents can take it from here. You’ve had a pretty long day. Rachel’s not getting back from her trip until Sunday. What do you say you and I go eat a ridiculous amount of sugar and marathon something really dumb on t.v.?”

Ella shrugged agreeably. “Why not? It’s not like I have school tomorrow.”

*****

When Ella told her mother during her senior year that she planned on joining Fringe Division when she graduated, it didn’t exactly go over well.

“No. Absolutely not,“ Rachel said firmly, shaking her head. “You are not joining Fringe. You’re going to go to college, and then you’re going to be a biologist, and you’re going to find a cure for one of the blights. Then you’ll die of old age.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Ella protested, rolling her eyes. “This is what I’m doing. Besides, everyone knows that all the best biologists in the world are already working with Fringe Division. It’s not like the police academy-you get a specialized education when you enter the program. I bet I’d learn more in one year with Fringe than in four at MIT.”

“I don’t care,” her mother said, her eyes flashing with anger. “Did Olivia talk you into this?”

“No!” Ella exclaimed. “I asked her about it, but she told me you would kill her if I ever joined.”

Her mom snorted. “Well, she got that part right at least. You especially should know this, with Liv as your aunt: Fringe is dangerous.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Ella said, her jaw clenching as she held back her anger. “Just living is dangerous,” she said, her voice going softer as she held her mother’s gaze with her own. “My whole school was ambered right in front of me, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. We both know someone who was at Ford Stadium. Travis was there. At least if I was working with Fringe, I could know what’s going on-I could help make things better. You can’t keep me safe anymore, mom.”

“I know,” her mother said, and it was almost as if the words had been ripped out of her, the desperation humming beneath them nearly causing Ella to recoil. For the first time, she really noticed the lines at the corners of her mother’s eyes, lines that shouldn’t exist for another ten years. At the lost look on Rachel’s face, Ella suddenly wanted to wrap her up in her arms and take it all back, tell her that everything would be okay. But when she suddenly found herself pulled into a hug, startled when she realized they were nearly the same height now, it was her mother who whispered into her ear: “I just don’t want to lose you.”

*****

Her mom dies.

And it’s not because of a Fringe Event, or the new strain of influenza, or anything that would make the news. It’s just a drunk driver, and a poorly placed stop sign.

Ella was out when it happened. Cadets had to live in dorms near the Fringe facilities during their first year, but now that Ella was well into her second year, she had been allowed to move off-campus. She and a friend-Sadie, who had joined the same time as Ella because of what happened in Detroit-had found an apartment in Brighton, right above this little bakery that made the most insane faux-chocolate muffins in the neighborhood.

Ella had swung by the bakery late that evening, fervently thanking no one in particular for the umpteenth time that the place was open 22 hours a day. She and Sadie had been blowing off steam with some friends at their favorite local dive. They had spent the evening speculating about their training officers, discussing the latest development in Michigan, and bitching about how the world was falling to pieces, yet they still wouldn’t lower the drinking age (which in many respects wasn’t a bad thing, considering the cost of alcohol these days). Ella had left early, though, because she had accidently left her cell phone at the apartment and wanted to see if anyone had called her back about subletting.

She wasn’t more than two feet into her apartment when her phone began ringing. She rushed towards her bedroom, muttering curses as she began to frantically tear the room apart before she found her phone hidden under some papers on her desk. Before answering, Ella glanced at the screen. She felt a sudden, inexplicable pulse of fear run through her when she saw that she had nine missed calls.

“Hello?” she said hesitantly, some strange part of her wishing she never had to answer the phone.

“Is this Ella Dunham?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Doctor Amid. I’m calling from Boston Hospital. I’m afraid there’s been an accident: your mother was in a car crash.”

Ella listened without speaking, until Dr. Amid’s voice slowly droned away to a tinny nothing in her ear. He said it was instant, that there probably hadn’t been any pain. She heard him say something about Olivia-how when they first saw the name Dunham, they thought it was the Fringe director. Olivia had already been by the hospital and had left twenty minutes ago. They wanted to know if Ella would like to come in to speak with the doctors. Ella just managed to register that last part.

“I’m sorry,” she said politely. “Thank you for calling. I have to go now.” And she hung up the phone.

Ella stared down at the phone clutched in her hand, thinking of nothing at all. She heard a knock at the door and jerked her head up. As if on their own, because Ella’s mind wasn’t giving out any instructions, her legs began to carry her to the front entrance. Before she reached it, she saw the door handle twist and the door swing open.

“Ella?” Olivia said tentatively, standing on the threshold, one arm still extended from pushing the door open. Olivia saw her, and for a moment they just stood there, looking at each other.

Ella stared at Olivia’s face, looking for an answer. Any traces of grief were wrapped up tightly, contained, but that meant nothing with Olivia. In the past, Ella had witnessed Olivia’s grief erupt, sharp and strong, but only for an instant before Olivia had snatched it back, rolling it into herself like she was single-handedly smothering an explosion. That’s just how she was. And because Ella knew Olivia so well, she got her answer. Not from signs of spent tears, but from the strained lines of pain at the corners of Olivia’s mouth, from the forced stillness of her body, from the way she looked at Ella like she was seven years old again.

Ella saw that look, saw her answer, and shook her head. “No,” she said, taking a step backwards. “No no.”

“I’m sorry,” Olivia said, her voice rising and tilting before she caught hold of it again. “I don’t…I’m so sorry, Ella.”

Ella just kept shaking her head, tearing her gaze away from Olivia’s face so she could stare at the floor. She needed its stability, because for a moment she thought she might throw up, and then she though she might drive a hole through the wall, and really all she wanted to do was go back ten years, five years, fifteen minutes, even, but she was stuck, and she couldn’t make the present go away. She felt Olivia step towards her, heard the door click behind her. Then her Aunt Liv’s arms were around her, and Ella was grabbing onto her like there was nothing else whole in the world. She pushed her face into Olivia’s shoulder, her scent familiar but not the right one.

She didn’t remember if Olivia said anything as she cried against her. When Ella finally began speaking, her voice muffled against Olivia’s shoulder, the only thing that seemed to come out was, “It’s not fair. It’s not fair.” Of all the things she could have said, she didn’t know why this protest, so familiar since childhood, was the one that wouldn’t leave her. But because it was the truth, and because Olivia knew this, all she said in return was, “I know.”

*****

On the day they officially made Ella a Junior Agent of Fringe Division, Olivia had personally fixed the pin to Ella’s collar. It was highly unusual to have the Director at a cadet promotion ceremony, but Ella had gotten used to both the perks and drawbacks of being Director Olivia’s Dunham’s Niece long ago. Ella’s wrist was still smarting from the bar code insertion, but she had forgotten the pain long ago in the excitement of the moment. She was jittery with anticipation, half her attention on accepting the recognition, half on her friends from Division who were about to get the same, half on the look on Olivia’s face, pride warring with the stern demands of the occasion (no matter that that was too many halves for one person).

After the ceremony, Ella met up with several of the other cadets-agents, now, she had to remind herself-milling on the grassy area outside the Fringe headquarters. It was late afternoon and pushing evening, and the soft light that fell on her friends’ faces made them seem brighter, full of possibility. Sadie was there, and also Jeremy Fisher. Jeremy had stopped being a screw-up years ago-apparently nearly getting your ass ambered could do that to you-and he had joined up the same time Ella had. He was still a doof, but the two of them had somehow ended up friends all the same. She nudged him gently with her shoulder and grinned over at Sadie. She heard someone call her name and turned to see Astrid approaching.

“Ella!” Astrid exclaimed, enveloping Ella in a hug. “Congratulations,” she murmured into her ear, before pulling back so she could eye Ella sternly. “I’m not sure if the world’s ready for two Agent Dunhams.”

“I’ll try not to ruin the name,” Ella promised before turning to Sadie and Jeremy. “You guys have met Agent Farnsworth, right?”

They both nodded, Jeremy’s eyes a little wider than usual. Astrid smiled at them warmly. “Congratulations to both of you. We can use all the help we can get, these days.” She looked back at Ella. “I’m sorry I can’t hang around longer, but we just updated our database system and I want to make sure no one’s completely dismantled it while I was gone. But I guess I’ll see you on Monday at work, won’t I?”

Ella nodded, feeling a small thrill at the idea. Astrid gave her a parting squeeze and began to head towards the parking lot. Jeremy watched her retreating back, his expression doleful. He’d had a hopeless crush on Astrid since first hearing her give a talk to the cadets on the Fringe Event mapping system. He’d repeatedly begged Ella to introduce them, despite her rather heartless assurances that Astrid was out of his league for a multitude of reasons, not least of which was the number of years between them.

“I’m very mature for my age,” he had responded with quiet dignity, which Ella had immediately shattered by laughing at him and the scraggly mustache he was unsuccessfully trying to grow at the time. Out of sheer exasperation at his nagging, Ella had finally given in and introduced the two of them at a training function. Astrid had been her usual kind self; Jeremy had barely managed to stutter out “Hello” before subsiding into terrified silence, which Astrid was polite enough to ignore.

Now, Jeremy gave a mournful sigh, and Sadie clapped him on the shoulder. “Cheer up, Romeo. You’re an official agent with Fringe now. Girls go nuts for the badge.” This seemed to perk Jeremy up quite a bit.

Sadie and Jeremy went to join the rest of the ex-cadets to celebrate, but Ella parted ways with them temporarily so she could look for Olivia. She found her aunt talking seriously to a man she recognized as a liaison between the DHS and Fringe. She considered turning around and leaving them alone, but Olivia caught sight of her before she could retreat. A smile flashed across Olivia’s face, and she said a few quick words to the man, who nodded and shook her hand. He was already walking away by the time Ella reached Olivia.

“Is there a situation?” Ella asked worriedly when she arrived. “You should go, if something’s happened.”

“Nothing’s happened,” Olivia told Ella reassuringly. “He was just updating me on some recent developments with the EOD.”

“Did they find out about an attack?” Ella asked, her pulse quickening, remembering the last one. “Is it Moreau?”

“No,” Olivia said, this time her tone the faintly reprimanding one she used with underlings. “I promise, Ella, it’s nothing they can’t handle. Tonight’s about you, not saving the world.”

Ella was on the verge of protesting, but then she took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. “Okay,” she said, offering Olivia a smile. “Thanks for coming, by the way.”

“Are you kidding?” Olivia asked, her voice and face flooded with warmth as she met Ella’s smile. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m only sorry Peter couldn’t be here, but they’ve still got him putting out fires in Providence.”

They began to walk towards the benches that dotted the greens outside the Fringe headquarters. Sometimes it struck Ella as strange that this place, where so much that occurred inside was frenzied and dire and stern and frightening, could be surrounded by such tranquil beauty. She wouldn’t be surprised if it had been designed just for that purpose, part of the government’s never-ending campaign to reassure the populace that everything was under control.

The sun was nearly set; it wasn’t long before the streetlamps would come on. The early stages of the sunset had been almost garish, the brilliant pinks of the clouds set against bright blue, creating a cotton candy sky. But the colors had eventually deepened into a fine dark red, and she and Olivia took a moment to admire the sky in silence as they sat next to each other.

When the natural light finally died and then flickered to electric life in the streetlamps, Olivia turned to Ella, shadows curving around the outside of her face. “Your mom would have been proud of you, you know.”

Ella nodded. The words were a cliché, but she didn’t mind, because they were true. “I miss her,” she said simply, which was no less true. She felt Olivia give her hand the slightest of squeezes, knowing that every motion and note that Olivia let escape signaled a hundred waiting behind. She resembled Olivia in some ways-in her determination, her curiosity, her drive-but not in this. When it came to feeling, she was far more like her mother, who had been free with her emotions almost to a fault; who was a terrible liar and an unparalleled story-teller; who had never made a decision she didn’t second-guess, but who had also never made a decision without first thinking of how it would affect the people she loved. Sometimes Ella thought it was better that way. Lost in the past, Ella almost absent-mindedly asked, “Do you ever wish you could turn back time?”

“Yes,” Olivia said immediately, and the word was so full of sadness that Ella didn’t know what to say. Olivia was staring out across the greens, her thoughts not quite in that place, and not quite in that time. “There was something I wanted to do, a long time ago. I made a promise to someone very important to me, once, and I haven’t kept it yet.”

“Yet?” Ella asked, confusion etched in her voice. “You either break a promise or you don’t, right?”

“Not this promise,” Olivia said softly. “Not in this world.”

“You’re being cryptic, Aunt Liv,” Ella said, frowning. “Is this a Fringe thing?”

“Yes,” Olivia said as she turned to face Ella, her melancholy instantly dissolving into a wry smile. “And several levels above your clearance, too. But I don’t know why we’re both being so gloomy. You should be out celebrating-I can’t tell you how many good things I’ve heard about you from the training officers.”

“They’re probably just trying to suck up to you,” Ella suggested, and Olivia laughed.

“I don’t think so, baby girl. I’m proud of you too.”

Ella ducked her head and looked at her hands where they rested on her lap. “I’m kind of scared,” she admitted, glancing back up at Olivia. “I mean, we’ve had all this training-and a lot of it was in the field-but sometimes I’m not sure we’re ready yet.”

“Want to know a secret?” Olivia said, cocking an eyebrow. “That feeling never really goes away. Sometimes I wake up in the morning convinced that putting me in charge was all a terrible mistake because I have no idea what’s going on.”

“That’s not very comforting,” Ella said with a frown, and Olivia laughed again.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more inspiring. The thing is, though, we always find a way. I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe-things I don’t even believe. But the more the impossible becomes possible, the more I have to think that we can find a way to fix what’s wrong with the world.”

“Do you really think things will ever get better?” Ella asked. The moment the question left her mouth, she found herself holding her breath for the answer. It was something she had never let herself ask, especially not of Olivia, and she suddenly felt like she was poised on the edge of a precipice, waiting to be shoved off the edge or yanked back to safety.

Olivia hesitated, and Ella could almost see her trying to decide whether to answer as Ella’s aunt, or as the Director of Fringe, or just as one adult to another. “Not for a while, no,” she said slowly. “And I can’t even guarantee that they ever will. I’m sorry. But I have to believe, with everything I’ve seen, that we’ll figure something out. That’s the best I can offer.”

“Okay,” Ella said calmly, feeling strangely comforted as she realized she had expected nothing more and nothing less. She had always looked to her mother and Olivia to quiet her fears, but she supposed it was time for her to figure the answers out herself.

She rose to her feet and Olivia did the same, and they began to head towards the lot where Olivia’s car was parked. “Are your friends celebrating tonight?” Olivia asked, glancing Ella’s way.

Ella nodded before grinning slyly at Olivia. “Do you want to drop by? I bet you’ve never seen more terrified faces than the ones you’d see if you showed up.”

Olivia chuckled. “As much fun as that sounds, I think I’ll let you celebrate in peace. Besides, Peter caught the red eye to Boston. I’m meeting him at the airport tonight.”

“Say hello for me,” Ella offered, and Olivia nodded.

The grounds were quiet as they walked, no sound but the rush and ebb of cricket wings and the distant buzz of street traffic. Ella knew that inside the Fringe headquarters there was a sea of noise and activity, but she didn’t need to concern herself with it just yet. The temperature had dropped a few degrees just within the time they had been sitting, and Ella could feel little goosebumps dominoing up her arm. She felt impossibly alive at the moment, and possibly ready.

When they arrived at the parking lot, noise slowly returning as the number of people around them grew, Olivia turned to Ella. “You know, if you ever get too worried, you could always remember the advice a good friend of mine once gave me.”

“Don’t panic?” Ella suggested.

Olivia’s lips quirked with amusement. “That’s not bad, but what I was thinking was more along the lines of, ‘You’re gonna be fine.’”

Ella smiled, allowing herself to be wrapped up in Olivia's parting hug. In truth, she wasn’t convinced either one of them believed that anymore. But for now, it was worth pretending.

The End