A special thanks to Lolita Tides, who provided much of the research for this fic, and to White Rook, for the soundtrack. Here is our strange and disturbing crossover offspring! ^__^

* I do not own Fringe, nor the Silent Hill franchise- and both could totally kick my a~~.

Chapter one.

"I've got a little place that you can use- out in Virginia? You'd like it out there, it's by a lake. It might give you a chance to get your mind off of things, with all of the terrible things that have been happening.

"Go out to my cabin- it's a place called Toulca Lake."

How Olivia wished that something so simple were true.

She wished a lot of things, really; that she hadn't seen the things she had, didn't know the things she knew, hadn't done the things she'd done. With her life compiled around her, like the many files that cluttered her bed when she fell asleep at night, she felt like she was drowning.

"Walter, I need to ask you a question," she said as she was stripping off her coat and scarf at the lab door, doffing them onto the already full coat rack.

"And what question might that be, agent Dunham?" Walter had questioned in reply, his voice slightly monotone with concentration as he peered intently into a microscope, unseeingly jotting down his observations with a stray hand.

"Can you take my brain out and put it into a jar for a little while?"

Dr. Walter Bishop stilled in his motions, slowly lifting his head to look up at her quizzically, "I suppose," he said, after a few moments of deep contemplation, "if I had the proper equipment and environment, I could give it a go…"

"She was joking, Walter," Peter Bishop explained, patting him on the shoulder as he passed, "don't worry your pretty head about it. So," he redirected his attention to Olivia with a quick smile, "what's going on? Anything new?"

Olivia shook her head as she descended the steps to the cement slab of the operating theater, "No." She watched Walter return to his work, crossing her arms across her chest, "It's… bizarre. Nothing has been happening- no new cases, no new leads-"

"No seismic activity?" Walter questioned, switching the magnification on his microscope.

"No," Olivia responded, arching a brow.

"That is strange," Walter mused.

"Yeah, because Manhattan has tremors all the time," Peter joked.

"It's like everything just… stopped," Olivia said.

"I think the term 'amassing' will fit more to your liking," Walter corrected, straightening and pushing his hands into the pockets of his lab coat, "a calm before the storm, if you would."

"Walter," what are you talking about?" Peter demanded flatly.

Walter gave them an uneasy smile, "I really don't know."

"You never really know," Peter grumbled.

Olivia let out a sigh, pulling them back to the subject at hand, "I don't know what we're supposed to do. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. It's driving me crazy."

Peter put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, "I think it's driving us all crazy, battering around here. Waiting."

"Like crows," Walter added mournfully.

Olivia couldn't help but halfway understand his strange comparison.

"Hey, do you know a place called Toulca Lake?" she found herself asking, and Peter raised his brows.

"Up near DC?"


"No, sorry. I haven't spent much time, in corn country- not a lot to do, there. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Olivia shrugged. She set to musing with the pens in a mug on a nearby desktop, "I hear it's quiet, out there."

"Uh-huh," Peter said, waiting for her to get to the point.

"Toulca Lake has some cabins," Olivia explained, at last deciding to bare her plan, "It's really weird, but… I was thinking of spending the weekend out there. To clear my head."

Peter arched a brow.

"Well, I can't stay out there all by myself. Rach has got to stay to work out Ella's school arrangements. So, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to come with me."

"We're going to a lake?!" Walter exclaimed excitedly.


The self invitation did not go unnoticed, but Olivia didn't think she had the heart to exclude Walter from what was turning out to be a weekend stay, at the Toulca Lake cabin. Peter had offered to tell him down, but Olivia had refused- Walter, however difficult and infuriatingly cryptic as he could be, at times, was, she was surprised to admit, her friend. And she had depressingly few, at the moment.

Rachel had convinced her that she needed the time away, admitting that she was jealous, of her time apart. But she seemed concerned, when Olivia mentioned that she had invited Peter and Walter, "I thought you were getting away from work," She had frowned, "I mean, Peter's an all right guy, I'd take him away on a weekend trip… but that old guy is weird."

Olivia had been unable to keep herself from laughing into her pasta, snorting sauce.

There had been a series of lyrical beeps of a car horn, that following Friday morning, announcing the arrival of the Bishops in their old and rather rusted Vista Cruiser. Peter had met her at the door, accepting her bags with a bright smile. Rachel, however, gave him a long, hard look, at last glancing over his shoulder to where Walter sat in the car, messing with the radio, "Take care of her," she had told Peter at length.

"Will do," he assured her with a nod. Rachel looked serious, and at last shook her head, turning to Olivia.

"You be safe, okay?"

Olivia smiled at her, "I will."

"Peter!" Walter called from the car, "I get to drive, yes?"