Well, here is Chapter three, as promised. Now, originally this was going to be the last chapter, but my beta brought up it felt like a beginning and not an end, so there will be more. But the next couple chapters won't be for a bit since I JUST started them. And at the end are lyrics to a song I think fits Peter perfectly. I'm all about the songs that match the chapter. It's a problem, I know.

Again, thank you for the reviews and story alerts. Warms my heart. Please, continue.

Chapter 3 – The Truth

Five months had passed. Five long, painful months since Olivia had learned the truth. It was a double edged sword, in that time she and Peter had started spending more time together, but at the same time each day made her heart heavy with guilt. She almost never saw the glimmering now, only in those moments when she was alone with Peter and she allowed the fear to take over. Thankfully in those five months she had learned how to control the fear, and with it, the glimmer.

She stared out the office windows at the two men who had become such a large part of her life. The younger one was gesturing wildly with his hands while the older looked perplexed. Finally Peter put his hands down and shook his head, good naturedly.

When she noticed him moving toward the office, she ducked her head back down to the paperwork before her and pretended not to notice.

As the door opened his voice filtered through the room. "I give up," he declared.

She looked at him with a questioning glance.

"Don't ask," he said and sank into the chair across her desk.

"Ok," she smiled. "I won't."

He sat forward in the chair and reached a hand out, his fingers gently twining with hers. She stared at their hands, her small one wrapped protectively in his.

This was how their physical contact had continued after the night in the park, subtle, silent and comforting. A stolen glance, a hand on her back, standing in each other's personal space a little longer then necessary. And the times when they were alone, a small touch or a gentle kiss. Neither was willing to take it any farther, he because he felt it was still too soon after John, she because the betrayal would be that much worse.

In the meantime the frequency of Pattern related occurrences were increasing with frightening speed. They had had three this week alone. It was all pointing to the fact that the war they feared was coming soon. And Olivia felt hopelessly unprepared- she still didn't know her purpose in this; she was still terrified that Peter would leave. And the idea that she would have to face this mess alone, without him to keep her sane, had kept her quiet for far longer than she had wanted.

"Hey," he finally said, and she realized he had been talking while she was lost in thought.

"I'm sorry Peter," she smiled at him. "What did you say?"

"It's Friday, we've had a rough week and the Sox play the Tigers in…" he paused and looked at his watch. "Three hours."

"You want to go to a baseball game?"

"Yep. Come on. Green grass, the crack of the bat, hot dogs and beer. What else do you need?"

She eyed him suspiciously. "You have tickets?"

He released her hand and shrugged. "I know a guy."

She pursed her lips at him. "I am not surprised."

"Was that a yes?"

A baseball game actually sounded really nice, a couple hours away from…everything.

"Yeah, sure."

At 6:30 he was standing at her door, knocking. When she answered he was surprised to see her dressed in a Red Sox t-shirt and hat, her hair pulled through the space in the back.

"Nice," he said, indicating her clothes.

"Hey, I think being a Sox fan is a requirement in this town. Astrid watching Walter?"

A light laugh came from him. "Yeah, that woman deserves a raise. Ready?"

"Yes, she does. And yeah, I'm ready."

Before long they were seated behind home plate, beers in hand, the warm sun beating down on them. Olivia turned her face toward the rays and closed her eyes, for this brief moment the Fringe Division, the Pattern and everything associated with it didn't exist. They could be just two normal people enjoying each others' company at an evening baseball game.

"You ok?" he asked, his mouth close to her ear. She could feel his breath on her exposed neck.

"Never better." And she meant it.

The first inning passed in comfortable silence. While they waited for the teams to start the second he leaned into her again.

"When I was a kid, after the accident, Walter made it a point to take me to a couple baseball games a year. Those were some of my best memories." He pointed out to the pitcher's mound. "This will be a pitcher's duel. Verlander versus Beckett. Epic."

"Epic?"

He nodded and swallowed a mouthful of beer. "Epic."

"Mmmmm…" She followed the Sox to a degree, but really knew very little about the players.

The remainder of the game passed with Peter explaining the physics of the game to her. Air pressure and rotation on the ball, the difference between a fast ball, a slider and a change up.

He was deep into explaining how the speed of the bat was equally as important as the speed of the ball when she realized how badly she underestimated him. It was easy to forget that Peter's IQ was dwarfed only by his father's-he frequently hid it behind sarcasm or deflected his intelligence, using it only when necessary. This was the first time she'd noticed him explain the inner workings of something outside the Fringe Division. She was really enjoying it. It wasn't that she was terribly interested in the physics behind a home run, but the passion with which he spoke about it drew her in. The glint in his eye, the excitement in his voice...

Suddenly she knew.

She was falling for him.

Glancing at him, the golden glow that had been unseen for months was back. Only this time it was blinding, and she very nearly recoiled.

Peter took that moment to turn and look at her and an expression of concern covered his face. "You ok? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Quickly she recovered and waved a hand dismissively at him. "Fine. Sorry."

He leaned into her and a broad smile crossed his face as his hand reached up and brushed his fingers along the skin of her exposed neck. She visibly shuddered. "Having fun?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good," he practically whispered and captured her lips for a brief, but promising, kiss.

As they parted and he turned his attention back to the game, the guilt that she had been able to keep in the back of her mind came roaring forward.

She couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't keep lying to him while feeling like this. Olivia was falling for him- it had happened slowly, with each day, each case, bringing them closer.

"Peter…" she whispered in a quiet voice, but his name was drowned out by the collective "awwww" of the crowd as Boston lost the game in what had, as Peter predicted, turned out to be a pitcher's duel.

"Well," he said, oblivious to her attempt. "We'll have to try again."

She nodded. "I'd like that."

Olivia hoped they would have the opportunity.

It had taken Walter nearly thirty minutes to convince Astrid that it was ok for the young agent to leave. Peter was due home soon enough and he was looking forward to showing his son that he could be left alone for short periods. Walter didn't want to become a burden to Peter and force him to find someone to watch him while he spent time with Agent Dunham.

When there was a knock on the door shortly after Astrid left, Walter assumed she had forgotten something and opened the door without checking who was on the other side.

He was surprised to find a familiar, if unwanted, person standing there instead.

The observer.

Walter's face fell. The man's arrival coinciding with the increase in Pattern activity could mean only one thing.

The war was closer than they expected.

"You know why I am here." The man said without making an attempt to enter the house.

"It's coming."

The man nodded. "He must choose."

"Peter…"

"He must choose a side."

Walter shook his head. "He doesn't know."

"It is time he does."

"I…" Walter started but was cut off.

"He must choose of his own free will. It is important." It was non-negotiable.

"I understand."

The bald man nodded and turned away, disappearing into the dark.

Walter knew this day would come eventually, but after getting Peter back, he was terrified of losing him once again.

The next morning Olivia arrived at the lab, surprised to see Walter there alone, working quietly at one of his myriad of machines. She dropped her coat in the office she had appropriated and strode over to the scientist, glancing around, looking for Astrid and Peter. She was done with the lying, the deceit- Peter had a right to know. Continuing their relationship with this hanging over her head was something Olivia was unwilling to do. Lies and betrayal had cost her one relationship. It wasn't going to happen again.

"Walter," she said as she approached and the older man turned to her, his normal smile replaced with worry.

"Agent Dunham," he said quietly.

"Where are Peter and Astrid?"

"Astrid said she had to go to the FBI building this morning and I sent Peter out for eggs Benedict. I've been craving them for some time."

"Lovely." She took a quick look around. "I'm done Walter. You need to talk to Peter."

He nodded sadly. "Yes, I do."

The woman had expected a little more argument from the scientist. They both knew what they were risking.

"I had a visitor last night," Walter continued. "The observer. The war is coming soon Olivia, sooner than we think. And Peter needs to choose."

"Choose?" she asked and leaned against the table with one hip, her arms crossed.

"Sides."

She waved her hands around. "Wait…he can choose to go back?"

Walter nodded as if it was obvious. "Of course. This isn't his universe. He could choose to return to the other side."

Olivia was stunned. For some unfathomable reason this option had simply not occurred to her. She had been so concerned about him leaving, running back to Baghdad or some other god-forsaken place that she never considered him going back to where he came. That would be so much worse. Here she could at least use her vast, government resources to keep tabs on him. But if he crossed over he would simply be…gone. Without a trace.

The thought made her take a step back from Walter as she looked at him in alarm.

"He can't go over there Walter. I've seen over there and…" she shook her head. "He has to stay here, I need him here."

"I agree. We just need to convince him."

The words hung thick in the air. Olivia was trying desperately to sort out how to keep him here when the subject of the conversation walked into the lab, bag of food held high.

"Ok Walter, I've got your eggs. Next time though, don't pick a place so far. We both know traffic in downtown Boston at 8 am is worse than hell." He placed the bag in front of Walter and shrugged out of his coat, eyeing the two of them. "Ok, what is going on, you both look a little too serious. We have a case?"

"No, no case." Olivia said hesitantly and looked at the older Bishop.

"Son…" Walter stood in front of Peter and grasped his upper arms. "I would do anything for you, you know that? That I love you." Peter nodded but glanced at Olivia.

Now Peter had an alarmed expression spread across his face. "Seriously, what is going on here?"

"Sometimes we make choices, Peter. Choices we aren't always proud of, but in the moment feel are right, necessary."

"Okay," the younger man drew out, bewildered.

"When you were sick, as a boy…"

"I've heard this story, Walter. What's the point?"

Walter didn't seem to hear him, locked into telling the story, the real one. "You were so sick. Your mother was beside herself, desperate. She begged me to help you but I…I couldn't help you."

Peter just stared at him, confusion clear in his eyes that were now an inexplicitly bright blue, in stark contrast to the usual blue-green. Olivia stood uncomfortably, waiting for the punch line.

"I got better, Walter, you didn't have to do anything…"

"You died, Peter." His tone was the same as when he had told Olivia all those months ago.

Peter cocked his head slightly at his father and the confusion changed to something resembling amusement. "Clearly not Walter; I'm standing here. Have you been making your medications in the lab again?"

He looked to Olivia, who appeared as though she could throw up at any second.

"Peter…" she started.

"Are you guys screwing with me? Is this about the exploding cantaloupe? I swear I didn't mean…"

"You glimmer, Peter." She was equally blunt about it, but her words were laced with regret and loss.

This time he was silent and she could see his mind processing the words and her tone and the fact that neither of them looked even remotely amused. The moment he put the pieces together she knew it, the expression on his face moved to horror, then anger.

"I…no. No way." He backed away from them initially but then gained his footing and approached Walter. He was so far beyond angry; this man who he had finally accepted back into his life had deceived him for three-quarters of it. It was almost too much to process. His mind was all over the place. Finally he was able to form words, and he somehow managed not to yell, but the anger was there, just under the surface. "Why?"

Walter looked visibly terrified. "I had lost you, Peter. And all I could think was that I had wasted all that time with you. When I made the window I saw that I was the same there that I was here…"

"So your solution was to kidnap me?"' His voice rose as he looked at Olivia. "I…you knew."

God, she wanted to lie so badly, but Olivia knew that would only make things worse. "Yes."

"I can't…" He waved his hands at them." I can't do this. I need to think." With that he picked up his coat and stalked out of the lab, anger radiating from his every pore.

"Peter!" Walter called after him.

Olivia stopped him. "I got it."

"You mustn't let him leave."

"I know Walter. Stay here."

She couldn't have been more than thirty seconds behind him, but by the time she got outside the Kresge building, he was gone.

The car was still in its usual parking spot, and Olivia was grateful, at least she knew he was still on campus somewhere. And suddenly she figured out where he was headed.

It only took a couple of minutes to find the bench outside where they had had many conversations. He was sitting there quietly, staring out into the nearly empty quad. Fall semester hadn't started yet at Harvard, so there was only the occasional student crossing through the area. For a moment she watched him before finally approaching and placing one hand on his back.

He didn't even move at the touch.

"Get away from me, Dunham." He was angry.

She removed her hand but didn't move away from him.

"I said get the hell away from me."

"I can't do that Peter."

Now he looked up at her, anger burning in his eyes, which, if it was even possible, were bluer than she had ever seen them. It always amazed her how the color of his eyes seemed to change depending on his mood, green when he was calm, blue as his temper flared. Olivia always knew that deep down Peter had a nasty temper. She had seen the surface of it a couple times, though it was never directed at her. Until now.

"Step back, Olivia." Each word was enunciated.

"Peter, I need you to listen to me."

He stood, hovering over her and Olivia knew he was trying to use his height advantage to intimidate her. It didn't work when suspects tried it, so there was certainly no chance it would work when her friend did. Though now she could literally see the tension that radiated through his body, as if he was using every ounce of self control he had to restrain himself. His fists were balled up and for one moment she thought she saw blood on his left hand.

"No, I don't think I need to listen to you."

"Peter…"

"Don't!" he yelled at her. "Just…don't, I think you have done enough. You know, I understand Walter lying, as demented as that sounds. And I think I can understand the why, which honestly makes me think I need my head examined. But you…you are the last person I would expect to betray me."

Olivia visibly recoiled but recovered. "I didn't betray you Peter."

"Really, how do you figure? I can do math. Five months ago we made a little trip to Florida; the Cortexiphan probably would have still been activated when we got back to New York." He moved closer to her, resentment tingeing his words, but now his voice was deadly low. "I'm willing to bet that I was lit up like a Christmas tree when we went out for drinks that night."

Her eyes darted away from his.

"I thought so. Was the kiss that night and everything since been you relieving your guilt for hiding Walter's secret?"

"God, no Peter!" She ran her fingers through her hair, which today she had left loose. "I didn't want to keep this from you, I swear to you."

His eyes softened, but his voice kept that hard edge to it. "Why should I believe you Liv?"

"After everything we have been through together Peter…" she reached up one hand and touched his face, running her fingers across the scruff of his beard. For a moment she thought she had gotten through to him, but suddenly he pulled back from her, the anger returning.

"No," he said as he shook his head. He didn't want her to get to him- he wanted to be angry. "No…"

She was losing him again. "Peter, please. I need you to listen to me."

"I thought we had something…" His voice was lost.

"We do." Olivia looked down, tears threatening. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I wanted to so many times, but losing you..."

"You didn't want to lose me? So instead you helped my father lie to me. Good choice." His voice dripped with sarcasm, his last defense.

Frustration seeped from her. He was being so damn hard headed. "Fuck you, Peter." Olivia could tell that startled him. "I know it's a shock to you, hell, I can't even begin to imagine what you must be going through. The confusion and questions, but do you know how hard it's been keeping this from you? Wondering if today was the day you would find out and leave me? Petrified that that day I would be left alone to fight this war. First John, then Charlie. I couldn't comprehend you not being by my side."

Peter watched the tears fall from her face and with each one he felt his anger fade. Keeping his distance, he brought one hand up and wiped the wetness from her cheek.

"Olivia…sit." With that he grabbed her hand and guided her to the bench, pulling her down with him, but keeping a respectable distance between them.

Silence settled over them as they both stared out into the quad, and Peter gathered his thoughts for several minutes before speaking. It was so much to process, so unbelievable and yet…not. "I want to hate you right now, you know that? I think I do hate Walter just a little bit actually."

"Peter…"

"No, let me finish." He still didn't look at her. "What Walter did was reprehensible, inexcusable, and frankly, vaguely nauseating. And yet, I am less shocked than I should be. Maybe that's because very little Walter does or is capable of doing surprises me anymore. I understand grief Olivia, when my mother died I would have done anything to bring her back, she was literally all I had. The difference is Walter was able to actually do something." He let out a loud sigh and ran his hands over his face. "I just don't know what to do with this right now, its not everyday you find out you don't belong where you are." He mused a moment, the differences with Walter about his childhood, his not remembering being sick, the urge to constantly move, never feeling settled. Until now that was. "Certainly explains a lot."

"Yeah."

Now he looked at her and smiled gently, his eyes had returned to the shade of blue-green she was used to seeing. "And you, I want to hate you, because then I could just walk away guilt free. But dammit, Dunham, I can't. I feel like I need to be near you…and it scares the hell out me how powerful that feeling is, it's the reason I'm not halfway to the airport."

She looked down and smiled. "According to your father, you are why I can do what I do. You trigger my abilities all the while keeping me sane, grounded. He called you my constant. After that first kiss I'd have to agree."

"Could it get any weirder…" he said and leaned back on the bench, echoing her words from so long ago.

"You belong here, Peter. I think…if there is such a thing as fate or destiny, that's what it is. If I'm the one who has to stop all this, I need you with me." She paused. "There's something else."

"Of course there is."

"The observer told Walter you needed to choose sides in the war."

He looked at her confused. "Choose? You mean there or here?"

She nodded. "Yeah. You have to make a voluntary choice."

"I can go back…" he said wistfully.

Terror spiked through her and suddenly Peter turned a bright gold. He must have noticed her expression because he smiled and placed a hand over hers.

"Am I resembling a Christmas tree again?"

"Yeah," she admitted and calmed herself enough that the color he was emitting was significantly muted.

"I'm not going back. To what? This…side is all I know. Besides, I don't think I could leave you even if I wanted to, which, I don't. Man that scares the crap outta me, I'm not exactly known for my emotional connections to people." Another long pause. "Walter started this mess when he took me, didn't he?"

She shrugged. "I don't know for sure, but it's a possibility."

"I think it's more than just a possibility. Which means I'm the reason this is happening, which also means I need to stop it."

She stared into the quad and smiled tightly. "Thank you and I am sorry Peter, more than you know."

He returned the smile. "I believe you."

He reached up with one hand to touch her cheek, but she stopped him.

"Your hand…" she said and reached out, his knuckles were bloody almost beyond recognition.

Peter looked at his hand and let out another annoyed sigh.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I took my frustration out on an Oak tree. Perhaps not the best choice."

"You think?"

"Better than Walter."

"True." She stood, holding a hand out to him. "Let's get that cleaned up."

He took the offered hand and rose as well, as they walked they left their hands joined.

"After that can we get a drink? I need one…or five."

"What about Walter?" she asked.

Peter tilted his head and got a mischievous look. "I think I'll make him suffer a while, only seems fair."

"Drinks it is."

I'm falling apart again

And I can't find a way to make amends

And I'm looking in both directions

But its make believe, it's all pretend

So, shed some light on me

And hold me up in disbelief

And shed some light on me

And tell me something that Ill believe in

It's in our suns, within the maze

But I have chosen the wrong way

I'm still getting over who I was

There's no sense of trust, there's no definition of love

So, shed some light on me

And hold me up in disbelief

And shed some light on me

And tell me something that Ill believe

And I know now, its not who you are, it's who you know

And I see clearly now which way to go

I remember the way I fell from above

And I recall the way I was

Shed Some Light, Shinedown

Ok, I'll tell you this much…Chapter four involves drinks and a little Peter/Olivia Action. And will probably raise the rating to an M. Heh heh heh.