Disclaimer: See first chapter.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, you guys. Seriously. I hope you enjoy the final chapter.

Chapter 3

By the time the Doctor, Rose Tyler, and Olivia Dunham reached the opera house, Rose was more than ready for their adventure to be over. They had been walking quickly through New York City for the previous two hours, hoping to reach the theatre without taking many of the main roads, thereby avoiding some of the surveillance cameras. It had worked (to the best of their knowledge), but had cost them an extra forty-five minutes of walking. It was after dark by the time they stepped through the doors of the opera house, and the dim illumination of the security lights cast an haunting hue about the structure. Rose felt a shiver go up her spine and was not quite sure if it came from a chill, the vibe from the mostly shadowed theatre, or if it came down to ionic residue from Olivia's dimension hopping. Whatever the cause, she allowed herself a brief shiver that she knew the Doctor didn't miss, and he quickly and quietly took off his suit jacket and placed it nonchalantly on Rose's shoulders. As they walked down the center aisle toward the stage, Rose spared him a brief smile of thanks, which he quietly returned.

"Olivia, this is where you crossed through, correct?" the Doctor asked, hopping onto the stage with the grace of a gazelle, his long limbs making him look like a large brown spider climbing up the side of the stage. Olivia quickly climbed up after him, with a sort of feline grace, grabbing the Doctor's proffered hand to help her rise to her feet. Rose took a couple of seconds longer to climb, being shorter than the other two, but she also found herself standing on the stage with an exhausted sigh.

"Yeah, this is the place," Olivia confirmed, her eyes searching the darkness of the opera house, most likely in case they were being pursued by the Secretary and his guards. "Wait, how did you know that?" Olivia continued, her expression suddenly confused, but not wary. Out of her depth Olivia may be, but Rose could tell that Olivia trusted them. Rose felt a small burst of triumph, for she could tell from her brief adventure with this woman that trust was not something easily earned from Olivia Dunham.

The Doctor held up his sonic screwdriver. "It goes ding when there's Void Stuff, remember? We originally tracked the anomaly of the rift in space and time to this place. But it was weird. By the time we had gotten here, it was nothing more than a scab. Normally a crack stays a crack until I fix it, but not here. Here it was healing over, and I couldn't figure out why. That is, until I met you."

"Me? What did I have to do with it?"

"Oh, you are special, Olivia Dunham," the Doctor gushed, smiling at her with such a wide smile that his eyes were crinkling at the corners.

Rose expected Olivia to stare at the Doctor in confusion or perhaps amusement. Instead, Olivia merely looked resigned, as though she had known all along that there was something unusual about herself, but had been frightened of it and was now ready to face up to it. But she did not appear to be very happy at the prospect. Rose thought back to all those people she had met on her adventures through time and space that the Doctor had termed "special" and thought (in a slightly pessimistic fashion) that maybe Olivia was right to be morose.

"How am I special?" Olivia asked, her voice half assertive and half timid. Before meeting Olivia, Rose would never have assumed a voice could hold both antithetical emotions, but somehow Agent Dunham managed to pull it off. Rose found herself waiting for the Doctor's reply with interest. He had not shared his findings about Olivia with her yet, and she was almost as curious about the situation as Dunham herself appeared to be.

"To travel between dimensions, even I had to use this little yellow button...thingy. You see, usually a rift in time and space has to already be in existence before one can even try to cross over. Before you came over here, this rift was not here. I know because I monitor them; that's my job. So, somehow, you not only managed to create a rift in time and space (which is impossible, by the way), but you also managed to travel without a honing button to navigate the Void, which not even I have attempted. You can see why I'm completely enthralled, yes? I mean, really, you are...brilliant."

As the Doctor spoke, he was gesticulating wildly with his hands, and at one point had stuck his finger so close to Olivia's face that Olivia had been forced to move her head backwards to avoid getting whacked in the eye. Rose merely smiled as she watched them. The Doctor was flamboyant by nature, and to someone as reserved as Olivia, he had to appear even more insane than Rose often took him to be. To her credit, Olivia merely stared at him and took it in stride, obviously well used to flamboyant, overenthusiastic personalities.

"It wasn't just me," Olivia reminded the Doctor. "There were three other people like me who helped. When I was a child, my version of Walter used this drug on me and a few other children. He called it Cortexiphan. It was supposed to unlock special abilities, and he wanted to use us to protect our dimension in what he feared would be a coming war. Most of the abilities have backfired as we accessed them in adulthood, and only 3 of us were very successful at learning to control them. One of them died crossing over and one exploded not long after we got here. All their abilities just went haywire and Nick and I couldn't access ours at all. It's like they were blocked somehow."

"No, they're not blocked, and they're not gone. It's just neither of you knew how to access them here. When you connected over there, you focused on your bond to each other and pushed outwards. It was a good idea, but it took far too much effort and the same ending could have been accomplished in a much more easy fashion. Instead of connecting to a person in the same dimension as the one you're already in, and looking outward, you should instead link to someone in the dimension you're looking to reach."

"How does that help? I mean, unless you have telepathy, how do they answer you?"

"Oh, I'm not talking about the mind. I'm referring to the basic fundamentals of matter-atoms, elements."

Olivia merely shook her head, and even Rose lifted her eyebrows in slight confusion. "I'm afraid I don't get it quite yet," Olivia stated. Rose gave Olivia a small smirk in shared confusion while the Doctor merely rolled his eyes and Rose could practically hear him think "stupid ape" in a northern accent that had long since disappeared.

The Doctor was quiet a moment, thinking of a good example of which Olivia would be able to relate. "Poles!" he yelled at suddenly, clicking his fingers. "Magnets. Things are drawn together at their most basic elements because they contain properties that, though they are completely opposite, call to each other. You and your friends crossed over the hard way. You gathered your collective strength and shot it out into the Void, hoping it would be enough to punch through. Luckily, for you, it was. However, what you should have done, and what would probably have saved the life of the one who died on the passage over, was allow yourself to call out elementally to molecules that would answer back."

"But how would I know that? How do molecules answer each other?"

The Doctor gave Olivia a look that stated quite plainly that he felt she was being deliberately obtuse. "Oh, come on, Agent Dunham. You know this. It drew you here in the first place."

The Doctor gave no further elaboration and Rose only smiled softly at him when he turned his eyes on her. Olivia still looked confused, but Rose had figured it out and understood probably better than anyone else in the multiverse would understand.

"I still don't get it. I mean, I just came here to save-Oh." Olivia looked shocked for a minute and then took on a pensive expression. "But what good does that do me now? I no longer have any help to boost my powers, whatever that power actually is."

"Oh, you never needed them, Olivia Dunham. You are cooking with energy; you're leaving miniature rifts behind you everywhere you go. It's how I found you and Rose in that cell, remember? You're leaking radiation. Your molecules are already screaming. You're just not listening for an answer."

"So, how do I listen? I mean, I sat in silence for nearly four months and there's nothing. I don't feel any different."

"Humans. You're so literal. It's not like the molecules are going to whisper a secret in your ears. I'll have to boost the signal."

"How are you going to do that?" Olivia asked, looking at the Doctor with slight trepidation, as though she feared he would begin to do weird experiments on her. Instead, the Doctor merely raised his hands up to both sides of her head.

"Do you mind?" he asked, wiggling his fingers and gesturing towards her temples.

"What are you going to do? A Vulcan mind meld?"

"What is it with people and Star Trek? No, not a mind meld. Close enough, I suppose. Less invasive. I don't know if it would normally work given my now-human status, but given your extreme abilities, you should be able to do most of the work yourself. I'm just going to act as a catalyst, so to speak. I'm going to go into your head and focus the signal, but you're going to have to focus on your opposites, on the things that can help call you back."

"So, I basically click my heels and say there's no place like home?" Olivia dryly asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, you can, although the words will have little impact," the Doctor retorted back.

"Will I go out in a flash or what? How will you not be dragged over there with me?"

"I don't have any opposites in the other universe. I have plenty of answering molecules keeping me right here," the Doctor answered, giving Rose a look out of the corner of his eye and his lip quirked just slightly. Rose felt herself grow warm despite the chill of the room. She took a brief moment to note to herself that the Doctor always said the most romantic things about her when he was speaking with other people. When he spoke to her, it came across as either rude or ridiculous, but rarely romantic. Rose began to think that maybe she should spend more time listening to him speak to other people if she wanted to hear him be sweet.

"Now, we're going to have to hurry," the Doctor continued, placing his fingers lightly on Olivia's temples and staring into her eyes, "because the Secretary is going to try and get you back, and I doubt we'll manage to escape for a second time." Rose stood silently to the side, watching in fascination. When he was a Time Lord, she had seen him perform this trick exactly one time-on Chloe Webber when she was possessed by an alien known as the Isolus-but she had never seen him do it to a non-possessed person and never as a part human.

"What do I do?" Olivia asked, her voice strong and all business.

"Just close your eyes, picture doors closing on things in your mind that you don't want me to see, and focus on those things I mentioned-the things that called you here in the first place. Think of them and feel them out. Your group found them earlier without even looking for them-it's what pulled you in-so if you search, it should be easy to find. But you're going to have to trust me."

"I do," Olivia answered softly, and when Rose and the Doctor looked at her face they saw that she was smiling at him. It was tight lipped and showed no teeth, but it was a smile. "Rose," Olivia called out, looking at Rose out of the corner of her eye.

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to say thanks before I go."

Before Olivia or the Doctor could say anything else, Rose had launched herself forward and knocked the Doctor's arms out of the way, embracing Olivia in a hug. Before letting go, she decided to leave some parting words of wisdom in Agent Dunham's ear. She spoke quietly, so as to the keep the Doctor from hearing (some things should stay between girls, Rose often thought). "I know that you haven't thought of this yet, but I've been where you're standing and eventually you're going to wonder just what has occurred between your friend and the alternate version of yourself. After I was reunited with the Doctor for a few days, I found myself wondering how many people he had fallen in love with in my absence, and it could have eaten away at me. But I remembered something that I want to share with you. You crossed universes for him, which means you must have cared deeply about him. That sort of caring isn't instinctual. It's earned. And if he earned that sort of compassion from you, I think he's earned some trust too. Maybe even forgiveness."

Rose drew away and looked Olivia in the eyes, holding onto her elbows. Olivia nodded in understanding and swallowed.

"It was an honour meeting you, Rose."

"And you, Special Agent Olivia Dunham."

With one last squeeze of the elbows, Rose let go of Olivia's arms and, sharing a brief glance with the Doctor, stepped out of the way for him to continue his work.

"Okay, Olivia. Now, if this works, it'll happen instantaneously, so know this now," the Doctor began. He stopped for a few seconds and Olivia and Rose waited in baited breath for the other shoe to drop. He finally continued. "It's been an absolute pleasure saving multiple universes with you." Rose felt herself breathe again.

"Thank you. You're not so sloppy yourself," Olivia responded, that now familiar half smile appearing at the side of her face.

The Doctor put his fingers back up to Olivia's temples and closed his eyes. Rose watched as Olivia's quickly followed suit. "Be brilliant, Olivia Dunham. Be completely brilliant."

After this, there was no more talking and Rose watched as the Doctor and Olivia furrowed their eyebrows in concentration. After about half a minute, their breathing started to synchronize, seemingly without their notice, and in a flash of blue light, Olivia was gone.

"So, Doctor, are you saying the whole point of this little adventure is that opposites attract?" Rose asked when the Doctor had opened his eyes.

"I'm not saying it. Science does. It's what keeps the Earth in one piece, the planets rotating around the sun, weather patterns, all of it."

"I thought that was gravity," she responded, stepping closer to him as she spoke to stand with him at centre-stage.

"Gravity is little more than poles once again calling to each other and colliding in the middle."

"So, this wasn't just you playing match maker again like you did with my mum and Pete?"

"Not at all. The universe had already done most of the hard work for me this time. Plus, it really was the only way to get her home."

"So, I'm your opposite, am I?" Rose asked, tipping her head back to stare up at the Doctor, her body mere inches from his, and she couldn't help but feel there must be truth in this particular science he was spewing because she felt the electricity crackle between them. She felt it slither underneath her skin and cause a familiar tingling sensation at the tips of her fingers and toes. Her skin rose up in gooseflesh and her heart beat an irregular rhythm in her chest.

"In every way. You balance me perfectly," he muttered, leaning down towards her as though to kiss her. Before any contact could be made, sirens became audible in the distance and the Doctor raised his head and turned his ear toward the sound. "Ah," he eloquently stated, "it appears we got Olivia home just in time."

Rose grabbed the Doctor's hand and intertwined her fingers with his. "We should run, yeah?"

"Most definitely."

They glanced at each other, smiled, and did just that.

When Olivia opened her eyes, it was to see the rundown opera building she and the others had stood in four months previously. She did not know whether to be relieved or disappointed that it looked the same as it had when she had left it months before. She stood still for a few moments, merely breathing in the air of her home universe and felt for the first time just how exhausted she truly was. Her legs were shaking, her head was pounding, she felt half-starved, and she wanted nothing more than to climb under her covers and sleep for another year with the sounds of Ella and Rachel's laughter emanating from her living room. The image in her mind only made her more enervated and it took a force of will to convince her legs to move one leg in front of the other and not simply collapse from underneath her.

She needed to find a phone and the sooner, the better. She could collapse when she had debriefed everyone on the situation and not before. There was a war coming, and soon. She, the Doctor, and Rose may have briefly thwarted his plans, but she had no doubts that he would rebuild the machine (which she had already labeled 'The Doomsday Device' in her head) and find some way to force Peter to stand on it. She would like to believe that because they were both finally in the same universe that they were safe, but she was too intelligent for that. They would never be safe until the Secretary was stopped and he would never stop until he was dead and Olivia did not have it within her to kill any version of Peter's father, much less his real one.

When she reached the doors of the opera house, she held on to the frame to steady herself. It would have been entirely too easy for her to focus merely on how tired she was, given how often she needed to take a break and regain her strength. But she didn't think about herself at all. She focused on the mission: Warn the others. So she slowly but surely picked up one foot and placed it in front of the other over and over and over again, going on autopilot and memory to a nearby diner that she and Charlie had eaten at while on stakeouts or while in town to interview witnesses or suspects. She walked up to the counter and asked to use their phone, allowing her exhaustion and physical pain to show through to the waitress manning the counter. Olivia hated to show weakness, but she knew in this instance that it would help her achieve her goal of getting the phone, and in addition, she was too bone weary to care about maintaining an image of strength.

The waitress brought back a white chord-less phone, and once she had been assured that the call wouldn't cost any money to the restaurant, allowed Olivia to use it. Olivia quickly dialed the first number that came to mind and waited with baited breath for the voice to answer, hoping he would still be awake and not out with her alternate self. If he was out with her, the conversation could have become awkward very quickly.

"Hello?" came Peter's voice, tired and groggy sounding. Olivia felt her breath stop for a second, and she had to take a second to remind her vocal chords how to make sound. She was shocked to discover that she had forgotten the sound of his voice. She remembered snippets of it-the way he would say her name, the slight bite it would take in a sarcastic remark-but the tones and timbre had dulled in her memory. She wondered for a brief moment what other traits about him, Walter, Astrid, Broyles, Rachel, and Ella she had forgotten or distorted during her captivity.

"Hello?" came Peter's voice again, this time slightly annoyed.

Olivia reminded herself that it was the middle of the night, and she was calling from an unknown number. If she didn't hurry up and answer, he would hang up. She cleared her throat and tried once again to speak.

"Hey," she managed, though it came out as a whisper and slightly choked, ending on a slight squeak.

There was silence on Peter's end for a few moments.

"'Liv? Is that you? The *real* you? Where are you?" he asked in rapid succession, not even giving her a chance to answer a question before the next followed it. He suddenly sounded very much awake.

"Yes, it's me. I'm near the opera house. Can you meet me there? Alone?"

"I'll be there as quickly as I can. Hold tight."

Olivia hung up the phone and gave it to the waitress, muttering a small "Thank you" as she walked out of the building and back towards the opera house. She thought of waiting outside on the benches, but after sitting there a few minutes was struck with the memory of when the flash grenade had exploded in the street. She shivered in the cool, early autumn air and walked into the entry way of the opera house to wait. Outside was full of too many bad memories.

Despite how exhausted she was, Olivia was surprised to find that she wasn't any worse off. She had been running full speed for almost 36 hours and she hadn't eaten in over 16. If Peter or Astrid could see her at that moment, she knew they would be having a fit. Olivia smiled to herself in the dark, surprised to find that one of the facets that she had missed the most and that she had focused on when trying to get back was the simple protectiveness those two had of her. She focused on all the 'opposite' details she could conjure: the con man, the insane one, the genius, the male. She had simply thought of every character trait for those nearest and dear to her that she could remember and thew them out, feeling the Doctor's presence in her head in a way that she couldn't explain. A part of her wished that she could say that it had felt strange, but after having had John Scott and Nick Lane in residency before, the Doctor was almost unnoticeable in comparison. He, at least, respected her privacy and merely did the task he had assigned himself and threw out into the Void of time and space all the data that Olivia had catalogued about her friends. It had taken surprisingly little effort to travel after that; her universe had called back to her and embraced her in a way almost as familiar as her sister's hug or Peter's caress.

After Olivia catalogued her injuries, she made a mental to-do list to prepare herself for the coming few days of debriefing. As such, she spent some time going over what to tell the others. Peter had obviously figured out about the alternate Olivia. Whether he had shared that information or was pretending to believe her alternate self, Olivia didn't know. Olivia mentally kicked herself. She should have known that Peter had figured it out-Walter had told her as much when he said that 'The Doomsday Device' had started working. Peter would not have been trying to find a way back to his original universe if he did not know that the real Olivia was, in fact, still there. At least she wouldn't have to fill Peter in on that part of the situation. The rest she did not relish telling him, and she decided that certain aspects-the torture and the 'interrogations'-were things that she would keep between herself and Broyles. He already knew his father was trouble for her universe, but he did not need to know just how insane the man had become.

Two hours after she called him, she heard the Bishop station wagon pull up in front of the building. Olivia slowly pulled herself to her feet from the position she had assumed of sitting on the floor against the doors that led into the main theatre. As Peter opened the door into the building, light illuminated his figure from the lampposts outside and Olivia was reminded of the strange glimmer his skin had assumed when Walter had dosed her with Cortexiphan all those months before. She shook her head to clear it of the memory and stepped forward out of the dark shadows. Peter saw her and came forward to meet her, his hands reaching up to either embrace her or caress her face (Olivia wasn't sure which), but she held up her hands to stop him.

It was not that she did not want his comfort. In point of fact, in the early days of her captivity, she had often comforted herself with different variations of how this reunion could go. In some, they were in his world and he was rescuing her. In others, they had returned to her world and the reunion went one of two ways. There was the girley, romantic one she sometimes indulged in that included over-the-top declarations and vows of vengeance on Walter, and then there was the more reserved one in which they merely nodded at each other and went out to save the world without taking any notice of what had occurred.

She had dreamt of his comfort for months. Craved it, desired it, and needed it. That was the problem. If he started to comfort her, she would let him, and she would never be able to say what she needed to say. Because of that, the reunion did not go at all like how she imagined it. It wasn't boisterous or kickass; it wasn't even awkward. It was simply quiet. She held up a hand to stop his touching her and he complied, seeming to understand her implicitly, just as he always had. She said nothing for a few moments, taking in everything about him that she felt had dimmed in her mind over time-his exact height, the curves of his fingers, the look of the wool jumpers he always wore, the way his eyes seem to be both blue and green at the same time. While she allowed her eyes to take him in, she noted that he seemed focused on cataloguing her as well. She had no doubt that he was mentally noting each new bruise, cut, scar, and discolouration that marred her skin and was blaming himself (at least in part) for each one.

"We're not safe," Olivia said after some time had passed. Peter raised his eyes from where they had been cataloguing bruises along her knuckles back to her face, saying nothing but clenching his jaw in worry. "I made some...friends," Olivia continued, trying to tell Peter the important details without having to go into a drawn out story about the Doctor and Rose Tyler. She had a feeling that she would still be telling the story when the Sun rose if she tried to throw in their part of events as well. "Walter tried to use their expertise to fix the machine. But they rigged it so that it would backfire. Peter, the machine is gone for now but I know Walter-both this version and your real father-and he's going to rebuild it. He's going to try again and I don't know how but he's going to find some way to try and coerce you to come back, and however he does it, he'll be ruthless. We need to get the others and warn them. He could come and take any one of us to try and convince you and-"

"Olivia," Peter finally said, holding his hands up and gesturing towards her, as though he wanted to place a comforting hand on her shoulders. Which, Olivia reminded herself, he probably did. "It's going to be okay. We're going to warn them. I promise."

Olivia took a deep breath to calm herself. Now that she had told him that the war wasn't over, she suddenly felt as though she was ready to drop to the ground.

"Can I go home then? Or is the other me still...?"

"No, we discovered that it wasn't you about three months ago. She's been in protective custody since then. So far, she hasn't told us much, but I think that's more because my father wasn't big on being honest with the people who worked for him." Peter said this with little emotion, as though his father was nothing to him. Olivia knew better, and felt her heart break for him all over again. It seemed that Peter always just found his father before losing him again, and this particular time was her own fault.

Without thinking and without preamble, Olivia embraced him. Peter quickly returned it, though he held her lightly as he was trying to be mindful of her injuries. When Olivia had watched the Doctor and Rose hug, she had been awed by the strength of it-how the Doctor hugged her with his whole being; the hugs between the Doctor and his former companion had been joyful and giddy. Olivia had briefly wondered if a real hug from Peter would be like that. She should have known that it wouldn't be. It was better, at least as far as Olivia Dunham was concerned. It wasn't boisterous and joyful; it was quiet and comforting. Peter didn't hug Olivia until she squeaked, and she didn't feel the urge to giggle into his shoulder. Rather, it was a couple of strong, steady arms encircling her, warm hands spanning her back, wooley jumper with cologne scent against her cheek, and 2 day stubble against her forehead. It was even better than a Doctor and Rose hug because it was theirs-their own brand of welcome and homeliness.

Olivia found herself struggling to find the right words to say as he held her. The last time they had spoken, she had told him that he belonged with her, and she could not think of what to say after four and a half months of separation that would convey that she still felt the same. She threw words around in her mind-thoughts she'd had while imprisoned that both made sense and didn't at the same time. There were things she wanted to share with him that were impossible to form into words and she got insanely frustrated with herself for her lack of vocabulary. Finally, she said the most honest thing she could at the moment, and they felt like the most perfect as soon as they were out of her mouth. "I missed you."

She tightened her grip around his neck a little harder as she said the words, and she felt rather than heard his small exhale as he buried his face against her shoulder. He said nothing for the longest time, merely tightened his hold on her waist an infinitesimal amount, his fingers digging into the cotton of her white incarceration uniform. "I missed you, too," he finally muttered, drawing back from her but maintaining contact by stroking her cheek with his thumb. Olivia felt her heart stutter in her chest, and her knees actually went weak. While she knew Peter would probably joke that it was his effect on her, both she and he knew that in reality her body needed rest and was about to give out.

"Let's get you home," Peter said, moving one arm around her waist to help support her weight. It was a sign of how tired Olivia was that she leaned into him without complaint.

"So I can go home now, right? You'll call Rachel in the car and let her know I'm okay?"

"Of course, 'Liv. I knew you wouldn't want her to worry, so I told her that you were on a mission out of the country for an indefinite period of time. I figured that would buy me a couple of months to try to figure out how to get you back. Walter and I made some leeway with trying to reverse engineer the plug he made when he took me, but the rifts weren't staying open for more than two or three seconds at a time. But I *was* coming for you, Liv," Peter stressed, walking them slowly towards the door, Olivia slumping more and more as they went. Olivia paid close attention to his words, both to get her cover story to give her sister and also because she sensed it was important to Peter that she know he was trying to find her. If Olivia had the strength, she would have smiled at his worry. It wasn't as though she had any doubts that he cared enough to try to find her if he knew she was gone; she had merely hoped he would be smart enough not to do.

Olivia held on to him as he opened the car door and helped her settle in her seat. He fastened her seat belt for her (which, if she had been more conscious, she would have snapped at him for-she wasn't a complete invalid after all), and closed her door. When he was settled behind the wheel in the driver's seat, she turned her head to him and with her eyes half closed she said, "It's good to see you again, Peter Bishop."

Peter turned his head to her, a small smirk coming across his face at her re-enactment of his greeting from the year before. "It's good to see you, too." He turned the key in the ignition and put his hand on the gear shift. "Let's go home."

Olivia summoned the last of her strength and placed her hand on top of his. She had no doubt that when they got back to Boston and she had slept for a few hours at home, that Peter would insist that she go to the hospital for an examination, but she would deal with that argument later. For now, she would enjoy being back in his familiar, comforting company and she would merely enjoy the ride home. Olivia felt her eyes close completely and rested her head against the window. She gave the hand that was caressing Peter's a small squeeze. The last word she uttered before she fell asleep made Peter quirk his eyebrow in the dark: "Allons-y."