Fringe Fan Fic: Choices 1
Title: Choices
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wolfie74
Fandom: Fringe
Characters: Fauxlivia, Olivia
Rating: PG
Word Count : 1,830
Summary: Sometimes our choices are not our own.
Spoilers: Everything before "Immortality".
Disclaimer: Not mine. Obviously.
The world was full of choices. Always, everywhere, everyday. There were choices from the time you woke up in the morning to when you went to bed at night.
What you ate, what you drank, what you pulled out of the closet to wear that day; even if you had two laundry baskets overflowing with dirty clothes that you just didn't seem to have the time to get around to do. There was even the choice between life and death. Everyday, in the most mundane ways.
At the moment, Special Agent Olivia Dunham was face to face with a not so mundane way towards extinction. The rapid-repeater side arm pointing quite prominently at her temple made her wonder just what her choices were at this particular moment.
Over to the left she could see her two partners Charlie and Lincoln, both straining not to move an inch least the perp squeezed the trigger, sweating in their heavy flak jackets. Other agents and SWAT team rounded out their little group, breaths coming out as hot steam in the cold air. The weather had changed again. It was a random thought passing through Olivia’s mind as she focused on keeping her breathing steady and remaining alert to any openings they might get.
“I think you should put the gun down now. You don’t want anyone getting hurt.” Lincoln’s voice almost didn't crack on the last part. Almost.
Charlie shifted, the movement making the gun at Olivia’s temple press tighter in to her skull. His soft curse was barley audible Olivia kept her eyes from meeting either one of her partners’. She needed to keep her focus. Instead she looked up at the person looming over her. Everyone has choices, she thought.
“You need to put the gun down. If you don’t, they will shoot you and you will die.” Her voice was steady, her body still. “It’s your choice.”
Lincoln’s voice again, closer this time. Why was he moving forward? “Do what she says, put down your gun. What’s happening to you, we can help with that. Let us help you.”
The figure looked down at Olivia, meeting her eyes around the barrel of the weapon. It only took a moment then for Olivia to know that a choice had been made. And that that choice wasn’t hers.
It wasn’t so much as hearing the gun shot as feeling the reverberation of its noise throughout her body. For a moment Olivia lay on the ground, her body pinned by the weight of the person sprawled on top of her.
“Liv! Liv!” Charlie’s voice, then Lincoln’s joining in and suddenly the weight was gone.
“Liv! Are you okay?!” She nodded, one hand going automatically to her stomach.
Lincoln pulling her up, pressing her into the arms of the EMT’s. “We should get you to a hospital. They should check on the baby.”
“That baby...” The words came out but Olivia barley recognized her own voice. Strong kicking and movement in response to her voice confirmed, at least to herself, the baby would be fine. It was all about choice.
“Yeah, Liv. I’ll ride with you. They should check you and junior out just in case.” Charlie has started calling the unborn child ‘junior’ as soon as she had told him she was pregnant.
As the EMT’s settled her into the gurney for the ride to the hospital Olivia watched as a tarp was spread over the body on the street. A noticeable lump tented the black cloth as blood pooled out on the ground beneath. The woman, yet another wayward scientist, was seven months pregnant.
Had been seven month pregnant, that is. She had made her choice though. It was always about choice. Olivia watched out the ambulance’s windows as they drove away.
Later, after a batch of tests and the almost prerequisite visit from the Secretary, Olivia was finally allowed to go home. After being driven there personally by the Secretary himself, of course. He’d given her the choice of going in Lincoln and Charlie’s car, or joining him in the limousine. Looking at his face Olivia knew what she would have to say. Another choice.
Now, alone finally in her sparse apartment she padded around in her socks with a cooling cup of tea clutched between her hands. Just before he’d finally left, the Secretary had made her some of the special tea he’d bought that was reportedly good during pregnancy. Olivia hated the taste of it. Yet another choice.
As she walked along the bare wooden floors Olivia caught a glimpse of the room that used to hold her bed in it. Clothes were tucked in one corner of the nearly empty area. Her ex had taken the bed as well, now it was just another room one that she sometimes spent time in. Little comfort out side of that one pile of clothing was to be had from in there. She’d left the pile on the floor after Frank had left, not wanting to wash it least any lingering sent would disappear. It was the one connection she had left. One choice her own to keep.
Sitting down on the one piece of furniture left from her time with Frank, she pulled her legs up nearly to her chin. Whatever lingering warmth that was left over from the tea had dissipated leaving cold ceramic behind in its wake. Yet still, she didn't put it down. Couldn't for some reason. It was the one thing she’d noticed that looked like it had been used repeatedly by her other self. It had been sitting on the bedside table when she’d returned five months ago.
When she sat still and let the quiet of the apartment wrap around her Olivia wondered about what her other self would think. What she would say, do. At times Olivia thought she could see her. The lighter colored hair and slightly sharper eyes. Eyes that pierced through her with their quiet intensity.
At first Olivia had chalked it up to the hormones when her doppelgänger started showing up. Talking to her at all times of the day. After a while, and a few strange looks from Charlie and Lincoln, Olivia just wondered if all of the stress had finally made her mind snap. Especially when her other self began talking to her. Especially when she began to answer back.
Olivia had really been surprised when the apparition hadn’t outright yelled and screamed at her. She’d stolen her boy friend after all. Had sex with him, became pregnant by him. Fallen in love with him. All choices. Right?
The other Olivia though, she’d just sat and talked about their likes. Their dislikes. What they both ate and what they both hated. From what Olivia could figure out from all the little traces that her other self had left around the apartment there was very few differences between the two of them. Of those that did exist, only one really stuck out in her mind.
The choices they had both made. Or rather, the choices that they’d been allowed to make. From what she’d learned of her doppelgänger’s existence in the other universe, there were very few times that that Olivia hadn’t been decisive and very direct with her choices in life. A driven woman who was dedicated to her work and was at the top of her profession. Willing to stand up to her superiors if necessary and take chances.
Not that Olivia wasn’t dedicated to Fringe Division and her job as well. If her time spent in the other world wasn’t proof of that then the past few months back home were a reminder of that tenfold. After all, here she was carrying what she suspected the Secretary thought was the future of all humanity. At least for her world. His world.
Looking at the clock showed just how late it had gotten. Her tea was cold and she stood up, wincing at the way old movements now made her feel awkward in her body. She shuffled into the kitchen and dumped the rest of the vile drink out. For a hundredth time she wondered if they had bugged her apartment. Bugged her body itself. Could they see the other Olivia?
Couch or...? She was too sore to lie on the floor tonight. Sometime she really needed to buy a futon, or a bed. Bedrooms generally have beds, didn’t they? The corner of dirty clothes would have to do for now. Sometimes there was more comfort there than the cold leather couch.
Quickly stripping and putting on pajamas, Olivia dumped her day’s clothing into the hamper and brushed her teeth and hair for the night. Flipping off lights and moving through the street-lamp lit room she laid down with a sigh on top of the pile. A few shirts spread on top of her and she breathed in deeply. The day had been exhausting and it was only now that she could relax and start to fall asleep.
“Those haven’t smelled like me in a long time, you know.”
Olivia’s opened her eyes. In the near darkness she could distinctly make out her other self.
“Sure they do. You wore them when you lived here. I saved them. Saved them all. Even bought all new ones for myself.” She watched the eyes of her doppelgänger, watched the sad smile that grew on its face.
The other Olivia shook her head, “I may have worn them but now that you’ve laid on them for months they don’t smell like me anymore. Just you.”
“But they do! They do smell like you!” Olivia sat up, agitated by what she couldn’t understand.
There had been too many choices recently. Too many that she hadn’t been able to make her own decisions for. Her true decisions. Questions with no answers; answers with questions that tripped over themselves in an infinite loop of insanity. It was just too much for Olivia. She needed something, someone.
The other Olivia shook her head once more. Strong arms reached for her in the dark, pulling her in to a motherly embrace. It was then that Olivia finally cried. Cried for the secrets from her partners. Cried for the dead almost-mother in the street. Cried for all of the choices that had been taken from her.
Slowly, Olivia stopped crying. The hand that stroked the top of her hair was soothing, familiar. She wondered what her watchers thought of the no doubt strange scene on their monitors.
“Don't worry, I stuck my finger up at them.” Her doppelgänger’s words made her giggle. Yeah, she would do that, and without fear.
“Time to be an Olivia Dunham. Time to show them what we’re made out of,” the other Olivia told her.
Olivia nodded. Yeah it was time. Time to make her choice.
Author:
wolfie74Fandom: Fringe
Characters: Fauxlivia, Olivia
Rating: PG
Word Count : 1,830
Summary: Sometimes our choices are not our own.
Spoilers: Everything before "Immortality".
Disclaimer: Not mine. Obviously.
The world was full of choices. Always, everywhere, everyday. There were choices from the time you woke up in the morning to when you went to bed at night.
What you ate, what you drank, what you pulled out of the closet to wear that day; even if you had two laundry baskets overflowing with dirty clothes that you just didn't seem to have the time to get around to do. There was even the choice between life and death. Everyday, in the most mundane ways.
At the moment, Special Agent Olivia Dunham was face to face with a not so mundane way towards extinction. The rapid-repeater side arm pointing quite prominently at her temple made her wonder just what her choices were at this particular moment.
Over to the left she could see her two partners Charlie and Lincoln, both straining not to move an inch least the perp squeezed the trigger, sweating in their heavy flak jackets. Other agents and SWAT team rounded out their little group, breaths coming out as hot steam in the cold air. The weather had changed again. It was a random thought passing through Olivia’s mind as she focused on keeping her breathing steady and remaining alert to any openings they might get.
“I think you should put the gun down now. You don’t want anyone getting hurt.” Lincoln’s voice almost didn't crack on the last part. Almost.
Charlie shifted, the movement making the gun at Olivia’s temple press tighter in to her skull. His soft curse was barley audible Olivia kept her eyes from meeting either one of her partners’. She needed to keep her focus. Instead she looked up at the person looming over her. Everyone has choices, she thought.
“You need to put the gun down. If you don’t, they will shoot you and you will die.” Her voice was steady, her body still. “It’s your choice.”
Lincoln’s voice again, closer this time. Why was he moving forward? “Do what she says, put down your gun. What’s happening to you, we can help with that. Let us help you.”
The figure looked down at Olivia, meeting her eyes around the barrel of the weapon. It only took a moment then for Olivia to know that a choice had been made. And that that choice wasn’t hers.
It wasn’t so much as hearing the gun shot as feeling the reverberation of its noise throughout her body. For a moment Olivia lay on the ground, her body pinned by the weight of the person sprawled on top of her.
“Liv! Liv!” Charlie’s voice, then Lincoln’s joining in and suddenly the weight was gone.
“Liv! Are you okay?!” She nodded, one hand going automatically to her stomach.
Lincoln pulling her up, pressing her into the arms of the EMT’s. “We should get you to a hospital. They should check on the baby.”
“That baby...” The words came out but Olivia barley recognized her own voice. Strong kicking and movement in response to her voice confirmed, at least to herself, the baby would be fine. It was all about choice.
“Yeah, Liv. I’ll ride with you. They should check you and junior out just in case.” Charlie has started calling the unborn child ‘junior’ as soon as she had told him she was pregnant.
As the EMT’s settled her into the gurney for the ride to the hospital Olivia watched as a tarp was spread over the body on the street. A noticeable lump tented the black cloth as blood pooled out on the ground beneath. The woman, yet another wayward scientist, was seven months pregnant.
Had been seven month pregnant, that is. She had made her choice though. It was always about choice. Olivia watched out the ambulance’s windows as they drove away.
Later, after a batch of tests and the almost prerequisite visit from the Secretary, Olivia was finally allowed to go home. After being driven there personally by the Secretary himself, of course. He’d given her the choice of going in Lincoln and Charlie’s car, or joining him in the limousine. Looking at his face Olivia knew what she would have to say. Another choice.
Now, alone finally in her sparse apartment she padded around in her socks with a cooling cup of tea clutched between her hands. Just before he’d finally left, the Secretary had made her some of the special tea he’d bought that was reportedly good during pregnancy. Olivia hated the taste of it. Yet another choice.
As she walked along the bare wooden floors Olivia caught a glimpse of the room that used to hold her bed in it. Clothes were tucked in one corner of the nearly empty area. Her ex had taken the bed as well, now it was just another room one that she sometimes spent time in. Little comfort out side of that one pile of clothing was to be had from in there. She’d left the pile on the floor after Frank had left, not wanting to wash it least any lingering sent would disappear. It was the one connection she had left. One choice her own to keep.
Sitting down on the one piece of furniture left from her time with Frank, she pulled her legs up nearly to her chin. Whatever lingering warmth that was left over from the tea had dissipated leaving cold ceramic behind in its wake. Yet still, she didn't put it down. Couldn't for some reason. It was the one thing she’d noticed that looked like it had been used repeatedly by her other self. It had been sitting on the bedside table when she’d returned five months ago.
When she sat still and let the quiet of the apartment wrap around her Olivia wondered about what her other self would think. What she would say, do. At times Olivia thought she could see her. The lighter colored hair and slightly sharper eyes. Eyes that pierced through her with their quiet intensity.
At first Olivia had chalked it up to the hormones when her doppelgänger started showing up. Talking to her at all times of the day. After a while, and a few strange looks from Charlie and Lincoln, Olivia just wondered if all of the stress had finally made her mind snap. Especially when her other self began talking to her. Especially when she began to answer back.
Olivia had really been surprised when the apparition hadn’t outright yelled and screamed at her. She’d stolen her boy friend after all. Had sex with him, became pregnant by him. Fallen in love with him. All choices. Right?
The other Olivia though, she’d just sat and talked about their likes. Their dislikes. What they both ate and what they both hated. From what Olivia could figure out from all the little traces that her other self had left around the apartment there was very few differences between the two of them. Of those that did exist, only one really stuck out in her mind.
The choices they had both made. Or rather, the choices that they’d been allowed to make. From what she’d learned of her doppelgänger’s existence in the other universe, there were very few times that that Olivia hadn’t been decisive and very direct with her choices in life. A driven woman who was dedicated to her work and was at the top of her profession. Willing to stand up to her superiors if necessary and take chances.
Not that Olivia wasn’t dedicated to Fringe Division and her job as well. If her time spent in the other world wasn’t proof of that then the past few months back home were a reminder of that tenfold. After all, here she was carrying what she suspected the Secretary thought was the future of all humanity. At least for her world. His world.
Looking at the clock showed just how late it had gotten. Her tea was cold and she stood up, wincing at the way old movements now made her feel awkward in her body. She shuffled into the kitchen and dumped the rest of the vile drink out. For a hundredth time she wondered if they had bugged her apartment. Bugged her body itself. Could they see the other Olivia?
Couch or...? She was too sore to lie on the floor tonight. Sometime she really needed to buy a futon, or a bed. Bedrooms generally have beds, didn’t they? The corner of dirty clothes would have to do for now. Sometimes there was more comfort there than the cold leather couch.
Quickly stripping and putting on pajamas, Olivia dumped her day’s clothing into the hamper and brushed her teeth and hair for the night. Flipping off lights and moving through the street-lamp lit room she laid down with a sigh on top of the pile. A few shirts spread on top of her and she breathed in deeply. The day had been exhausting and it was only now that she could relax and start to fall asleep.
“Those haven’t smelled like me in a long time, you know.”
Olivia’s opened her eyes. In the near darkness she could distinctly make out her other self.
“Sure they do. You wore them when you lived here. I saved them. Saved them all. Even bought all new ones for myself.” She watched the eyes of her doppelgänger, watched the sad smile that grew on its face.
The other Olivia shook her head, “I may have worn them but now that you’ve laid on them for months they don’t smell like me anymore. Just you.”
“But they do! They do smell like you!” Olivia sat up, agitated by what she couldn’t understand.
There had been too many choices recently. Too many that she hadn’t been able to make her own decisions for. Her true decisions. Questions with no answers; answers with questions that tripped over themselves in an infinite loop of insanity. It was just too much for Olivia. She needed something, someone.
The other Olivia shook her head once more. Strong arms reached for her in the dark, pulling her in to a motherly embrace. It was then that Olivia finally cried. Cried for the secrets from her partners. Cried for the dead almost-mother in the street. Cried for all of the choices that had been taken from her.
Slowly, Olivia stopped crying. The hand that stroked the top of her hair was soothing, familiar. She wondered what her watchers thought of the no doubt strange scene on their monitors.
“Don't worry, I stuck my finger up at them.” Her doppelgänger’s words made her giggle. Yeah, she would do that, and without fear.
“Time to be an Olivia Dunham. Time to show them what we’re made out of,” the other Olivia told her.
Olivia nodded. Yeah it was time. Time to make her choice.