A/N: Lincoln waking up in the hospital, as requested.

I'm thinking about doing a multi-chapter fic, but I don't know if I'll actually post it, mostly b/c I ran into some issues in an other fandom with trying to write out an idea that potentially might be addressed in cannon later in the season. It halted the fic completely when it turned out that some of the issues I was dealing with came up in the actual story line, but attributed to an other character. Ugh. What a pain. The idea is working with Lincoln and Charlie finding out that Olivia is not their Liv and Lincoln uncovering information about Secretary Bishop about the war he's trying to fuel (because, let's face it people, even though the man has every right to be angry his child was stolen, destroying an entire universe as your own personal vendetta is just over the top for any leader) and becoming a target because of it. The problem is, I know that eventually FOX will address the fact that Olivia is not Alt-Olivia and then my story will be obsolete. The issue would be, could I finish it before that happened, because if I didn't it would probably die b/c I so love cannon. I really do. Even when there is alternate cannon to work with XD That just makes it more interesting.

Enough rambling. On to:

Part Two

Lincoln Lee had never been one for remembering his dreams. As a general rule he was used to running himself so hard every day that as soon as his head hit the pillow at night he would not have an other conscious – or remembered – thought until the next morning. That was why he was surprised to find himself stretched out in the middle of an open field, the sun shining down on him, and what felt like an old blanket under him. It was like a picnic. Who ever had those anymore?

Blue eyes searched the unusual terrain for a moment before coming to rest on the figure that sat next to him. It took a second for the Fringe agent to realize that Olivia Dunham was talking on about something non-work related. He wasn't really sure what, but her lips were moving and he was sure that it had nothing to do with work and that made him smile. The fact that she was sitting with him, alone, and on a blanket in the middle of nowhere somehow felt perfectly natural and he didn't question it.

Her lips stopped moving all of a sudden and she turned to look directly at him, green eyes brimming with tears. Lincoln tried to sit up, finding that he could not, but somehow that wasn't what filled his mind. Worry gripped at him over the pretty redhead at his side. Liv never cried. In the two years that he'd known her – and known her well – he had never once seen her cry.

He tried to call her name. To ask what was the matter. How could he make it better? How could he keep her from crying? Nothing came out and she leaned over him, pressing her lips to his and whispering his name.

Blue eyes snapped open and the field and the blanket were replaced by beeping machines and a hospital bed. He blinked, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes and having little luck with it. He tried to move, but found his arms felt too heavy to lift, so he settled for trying to glance as far as he could one direction and then the other. Finally his eyes landed on the approaching figure of the woman from his dream.

"Lincoln?"

"Hey," he croaked, his voice hoarse and his throat parched. Even so, a smile touched his lips. "What a face to wake up to."

She laughed in spite of herself. "Yeah, I probably look awful."

"No. Serious," Lincoln managed. He felt her hand slide into his and a smile touched Olivia's lips.

"Yeah, yeah. You remember what happened?"

Lincoln closed his eyes for a moment, forcing his brain to work. They'd run an ambush on the people from the Other Side. One had had… powers. He'd never seen anything like it. She'd created fire from nothing and it'd engulfed him. All the pain and the anguish came back to memory and he grimaced against it.

Olivia tightened her grip on her partner's hand just enough to gain his attention, but not enough to aggravate the burns still there. "Lincoln?"

"Yeah," the other responded, blinking his eyes open again. "What the hell was all that?"

"I don't know just yet. We'll find out." She paused, eyes roaming over his mangled face and what was visible out from under the sheets. He was still a mess, but they'd declared him out of ham's way as long as he woke before morning. "You were burned pretty bad."

"I can feel," the other responded slowly.

"They said you'll spend three months doing treatment in a Nanite Regeneration Chamber."

"Oh joy."

Liv frowned. "It's better than being dead. We almost lost you today, Lincoln." She stood up, making sure that he could see her well and meet her eyes as she spoke. "I hope you know that you took years off my life after that stunt."

"There wasn't a stunt," Lincoln argued.

She sighed, not willing to argue with him and pulled the chair that she'd been sitting in closer. "I'm just glad you're okay," she murmured honestly.

The fear and sadness in her voice brought the dream back full force and Lincoln tried to push it away. His Liv wasn't able to respond to him in the way that the dream-Olivia had. She might have been worried, she might have been scared, but it would never end with her kissing him and murmuring her love. That just wasn't meant to be. "What time is it?" he asked after a moment.

Olivia glanced at the clock. "Midnight."

Lincoln sighed. "That late huh?"

"I sent Charlie home a few hours ago."

"You should go home too."

She gave him look that said that was not what she'd planned on, but just as she was about to answer a nurse bustled in. "Captain Lee, good to see you awake. Just in time for your next treatment."

"Great," the blue-eyed agent responded sarcastically. He felt the bed shift as the nurse readied it to move to the chambers. "Hey, Liv?"

"Yeah?"

He paused, everything that he had wanted to say to her for the past two years lingering on the tip of his tongue and trying desperately to be heard. He swallowed it back and smiled. "Thanks for sitting with me. Go home and get some sleep. Frank's leaving in the morning, right?"

Olivia startled as if she might have forgotten. "Right. Okay, I'm leaving," she murmured. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Lincoln agreed as he felt himself slipping back to sleep.