Title: Trust Me

Rating: T

Pairing: Olivia/Peter

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, no profit is made out of this story.

Spoilers: Up to 3x08 "Entrada"; the second part will also have spoilers for "Marionette" (3x09)

N/A: I know there are a lot of people waiting for my new chapter of "Here and There", and I SWEAR it will come; but 'Entrada' put that story in my head, and I just had to get it out.

I actually cut it in half, because it's pretty big for a oneshot; it is finished, though, so the second part will be posted tomorrow night :)

This is an Olivia story through and through, from her childhood, to AFTER the current events of the 3rd season. This first part is completely spoiler free though.

Sorry for the mistakes, it's unbetaed :)


TRUST ME

"If you don't trust me, then there's no hope." -Olivia Dunham, 'Entrada'-


Olivia Dunham, better known as Olive in her young years, learns at the age three that you cannot trust people.

Grownup people, to be more specific. Most of the time, children can be trusted, because they are just as clueless as she is. That what they call 'innocence', apparently.

But grownups lie.

They tell you "It's not going to hurt you, Olive," and then they plunge a needle in your arm.

They say "Don't be scared, Olive, it's not real," but what you see while seating on that weird Chair doesn't feel like a dream at all. You can hear them, all around you. The monsters, always coming closer, jumping out of the shadows when you less expect them. And no matter how hard you scream or cry or even pinch yourself, you don't wake up. Not until they take you away from the Chair, anyway.

And they say "It's okay, it's alright now, nobody's angry with you. You didn't do anything bad, it's alright, Olive. Everything's going to be okay." But you don't believe them.

Because then, they just put more needles in your arm and make you sit on the Chair again.

She trusts her Mommy and Daddy, though. She guesses it's because…well, they are her Mommy and Daddy.

She doesn't see them every day. Daddy works a lot. And Mommy's sick. She doesn't know what her Mommy's illness is exactly, because they don't tell her. Olive could stay with her at night before, but now, they've told her Mommy has a baby in her tummy, so she has to rest even more.

So she stays in the Daycare at night, too. It's okay. Most nights, Nick comes into her bed.

They hide under the covers, curled up face to face, forehead against forehead, knees against knees, fingers intertwine. They love to do that, because it keeps the nightmares away, and it makes them less scary during the day, when they play Wilam's Games.

Daddy's home tonight, though, so he came and picked her up early, so she can sleep at home.

Except that she can't sleep.

There are moving shadows on her walls, and shadows hide monsters. And the noises they are making outside are so loud that she can hear them even when she covers her ears with her hands.

Nick is not here, so she slides off her bed and hides under it, getting as close to the wall as she can, eyes closed. The dust makes her cough, but she knows it's still a safer place.

And then, she hears them. Not the monsters, no, but her Mommy and her Daddy. They are arguing.

It never occurs to her that it is very strange that she can hear their conversation loud and clear, when they are in their bedroom, on the other side of the house.

But after all, she's only three, and she spends most of her days pointing out objects that glimmers. So it doesn't seem that strange.

"I want you to take her out of this place, Patrick!" her mom is almost shouting, and Olive thinks that she shouldn't get upset, because it's bad for her.

"Don't be like that, Lynne, it's just a daycare, she's- "

"Don't talk to me as if I were stupid, simply because I don't know exactly what you and your army are doing over there. All that I know is that they are doing something to her!"

"Marilyn, she's fine."

"Fine? FINE? She has needles marks in the crook of her arm, Patrick! I saw them when I was bathing her earlier, and I asked her what it was. You know what she said? 'Nothing, Mommy. Wilam said it was okay, that it was just part of the Games.' How the fuck am I supposed to feel like she's okay when she tells me something like that?"

Olive was starting to feel bad for having told Mommy that, but the thought quickly disappears when she hears her Mommy say the VERY BAD word, which makes her gasp in shock. And she swallows a lungful of dust at the same time, which makes her cough harder. She misses what they say next.

"…know I can't, Lynne."

"Patrick, please, she's only a baby."

Olive scowls. She's not a baby, she's a big girl.

"I know, honey. But…you have to understand that I have no choice. Do you think I want this for Olive? That I want her…experimented on, or whatever they are doing to her? You know that I could get arrested for simply talking about it with you right now? This is out of my control, I can't do anything!"

"I don't care about your orders! She's my daughter, and I will not allow for her to be used as a guinea pig. If you don't do anything about it, I will. I will just take her and leave."

And just as suddenly as it has started, Olive can't hear their voices anymore. Nor the monsters'.

But she still feels scared.

She doesn't want to go away, without her Daddy. She doesn't like the Games, it's true, but she can't leave Nick. Nick is her best friend, they protect each other. He would be so scared all the time if she wasn't there to keep him safe.

She tries to breathe deep, as Walter's taught her, to calm herself when she's scared; but the dust is just making her cough too hard now, and she ends up feeling more and more panicked. She crawls out from under the bed, trying to cover her mouth so Mommy won't come check on her.

She's shaking.

And whenever she gets that scared, only one thought invades her mind.

She has to find Nick. If she finds Nick, she will be okay.

Once again, she's only three.

Three year olds are aware enough to make connections and to take decisions, but their awareness is still very narrow. All that she knows is that her house is only five minutes away from the Daycare, down the road, and that Nick is there. It's not her fault, really.

It's almost like she's been programmed to react that way.

So she puts on socks all by herself, and the winter coat that Mommy's left on a chair in her room. Her boots are next to the entrance door, but she can't go there, they would hear her and stop her. She finds an old pair of shoes in her own closet. They are a little small, but she couldn't care less. She's still frantic, only doing all those things because she's three and habits rule her life. It's January, which should mean nothing here in Florida, but it's been a strangely chilly month so far, and it's night.

She opens the window in her room and slips out of the house without a noise.

And then she walks. As fast as her short legs can make her go –which isn't very fast. The Daycare really is down the road, she can already see the dark shapes of its building, but things seem to stretch endlessly into the dark of the night. And there's not many lights around, it's mostly just the moonlight, and she sees them alright, the shadows, everywhere.

She tries to keep her eyes on the building, breathing hard, and already feeling very cold –she couldn't close her coat, she doesn't know how to zip it yet. She's so scared now that she knows she will start crying really soon if she doesn't find Nick quick, and she hates crying.

But she's three and she's scared, alone outside in the middle of the night, so when her bottom lip starts to quiver, she really can't do anything about it.

And then she sees it, and it makes her walk faster, because it means she's almost there.

Less than fifty yards away, the swing set glitters brightly.

She runs toward it. Of all the things that glimmer in the Daycare, it really is her favorite. She loves to go and swing on it, because it makes her feel like there are stars all around her, even when the sun is bright and warm above her.

She feels like she's flying into a very shiny space.

But as she comes closer to the glittering swing set, she realizes that someone's already there.

There's a boy sitting on one of the swings.

She stops, only a few yards away from him, not really knowing what to do. He's facing the other way right now, so he can't see her. But he will, if she goes into the building. He could give her away. But as the same time, he's a kid too, even if he looks a little older, and she trusts kids more easily.

And for some reason, she already feels her fears quieting down slowly inside of her.

So she comes closer to him, now more intrigued than anything else. She shouldn't be here in the first place, but she has a valid reason. What is he doing here, sitting there in the middle of the night?

He doesn't even have a coat on.

When she reaches him, she goes around the swing set so she can see his face. He looks at her, not even looking surprised.

Actually, he mostly looks sick. She knows about sick faces. And that boy has a sick face.

"Aren't you cold?" She asks, because she's three, and really, he doesn't have a coat, and he's shaking.

He shrugs. "No, I don't feel the cold. I have a fever, so I feel cold all the time."

"Still. You're going to get sick. Or sicker."

He smiles, and she smiles too, because she suddenly feels much better. Her visceral need to find Nick has disappeared too. She's by no mean a shy child when she's feeling good, so she just goes and sits on the other swing.

"How old are you?"

"Five."

He's obviously not very talkative.

"I'm three. I had my birthday in October."

He just stares ahead. He doesn't look annoyed by her though, so she keeps talking.

"Why are you here? Alone outside, I mean."

He looks at her, then, and really, he doesn't look that good. "Because I'm not allowed to go out during the day. I just wanted to see the moon."

That's a weird thing to say. "You don't want to know why I'm here?"

He shrugs again, staring at the moon now, and she can see that he has blue eyes. "Not really. You're going to get in trouble though."

"You too!" She answers with a scowl, because she thinks he's going to go tell someone and she thought she could trust him.

He smiles. "I'm not going anywhere or telling a grownup. Someone will be out for me soon anyway. My dad will realize I'm missing and he will flip."

"Who's your dad?"

"Walter Bishop."

"OH, I know Walter! He plays Games with us. Do you live here? Why aren't you in the Daycare with us?"

"I don't live here, I live somewhere else in the town, but my mom had to leave for the night and left me with my dad."

"You go to another Daycare then?"

He smiles again, but somehow she knows it's not a happy smile, and she wonders why someone would smile if they weren't happy. That's just silly.

"I don't go anywhere. I'm too sick; my mom doesn't want me to go out of the house."

"Well, that's silly that you are here, then. Aren't you going to get sicker or something?"

Another shrugs. "I don't think I can get any sicker."

She stares at him, frowning. "You're weird."

It's not a nice thing to say, and she knows it. But it's okay because he smiles big then. "Thank you."

He's really weird. But she likes him.

"What's your name?" She asks, realizing just now that she hasn't asked yet.

"Peter."

And when he doesn't ask for her own, she just tells him anyway.

"I'm Olive."

"Now that's a weird name."

She jumps out of the swing. "Hey! Don't be mean!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean it in a bad way." He looks sincere, so she just shrugs. She's really starting to feel cold though, and tired.

"I'm going inside. Come with me?"

He hesitates, looking at the almost full moon for a moment. Then he simply jump off the swing, and together, they walk in silence to the building.

Olive never makes it to the dormitory, though.

As Peter had predicted, Walter had realized his sick son was gone and had started searching the building frenetically. He intercepts the children in the entrance hall. Her parents are called, and Daddy comes and gets her, looking livid. She knows she's in trouble.

But right now, Peter is still standing next to her, listening to his dad's loud protestations, and she doesn't feel worried.

When their dads take them different ways, they exchange one last look, and one last smile.

Olivia will never see him again.

Not that version of him, anyway.


OoOoOoO


Later, when she tells the story –most often forced by some psychiatrist, rarely of her own accord, she tells it in a way that suggests it was her mom he'd beaten up that night, her mom's nose he had broken.

But it isn't. It's Rachel's nose.

Rachel curled up on the floor, her arms around the table's leg, clinging to it as if her life depends on it.

Their mom isn't even here. She's in the hospital because she had a relapse.

But Olivia discovers pretty quickly after that night that people don't look at her with as much pity when she says it was her mom instead of her sister, so she changes the story, and sticks to it.

But right now, the story is still unraveling.

Dan is already drunk when he comes home.

He doesn't care about the fact that he's legally supposed to be in the house with them while their mom is in the hospital. Olivia doesn't need him around, of course; if he could just get out of their lives all together, that would be great.

She knows she's only nine, but she can take care of her mom and of Rachel. She can protect them.

But she fails tonight.

Rachel breaks a glass. That's how it's starts. Because she breaks a glass, by accident, just when he enters the house, as drunk as can be.

"You little, useless piece of shit! Who do you think is paying for those things?" He yells.

"Rachel, go to your room," Olivia says, giving her the look, before turning to her stepfather. Her heart is already thumping hard beneath her chest, but she doesn't let it show. She knows he loves it when he gets them scared. "It was an accident, Dan. She was thirsty. She tripped and dropped the glass."

"You!" He yells to Rachel, who is already making a beeline for the door. "Stay here. Olive, you get out."

He points at the door, anger deforming his sweaty face, and all she can think about is that she has to protect Rachel.

"Dan, it was an accident."

He just comes at her then, grabbing her by her long hair, and she can't help but scream in pain as he drags her out of the kitchen.

She fights with all her might of course, but he's more than twice her size, three times her weight. She scratches, even try to bite, but he's too strong.

Before she knows it, he has thrown her into the bathroom, and she falls against the bathtub; by the time she's scrambled to her feet again, he has taken the key out of the keyhole and closed the door loudly.

CLICK.

" No!" She shouts, running to the door. It's closed. "Dan, don't hurt her! I swear I will kill you if you hurt her!"

In the kitchen, he yells again.

And then Rachel screams.

Olivia throws herself hard against the door, hurting herself in the process, but she's too out of her mind with hatred and fear to realize that there is no way in hell she will get out that way. She attacks the door again, and when it does nothing but send pain in her throbbing shoulder, she tries the handle, pulling, pushing, up and down again and again and again, focusing with all her might.

Another heartbreaking scream reaches her ears, and Olivia feels like she's exploding.

CLICK.

The door is suddenly open and she loses her balance for a second, half expecting him to be on the other side. But there's no one.

She doesn't even think about it, she just runs to the kitchen. As she stumbles into the living room, the entrance door closes loudly, quickly followed by the sound of an engine starting up. But she's already in the kitchen.

Her little sister is on the floor, holding on to one of the table's leg, sobbing and shaking violently.

There's blood all over her.

"Rachel!" she cries, almost throwing herself to the floor next to her, taking her head in her hands, trying to determine where the bleeding is coming from.

Her nose. It's her nose. She looks around frenetically and spots a dirty towel a few feet away. She reaches for it and presses it hard on her sister's face. She cries in pain, still sobbing.

"It's okay, baby," she tries to reassure her, but the truth is, she's scared to death. What if it's really bad and she bleeds out? What is she supposed to do? What would her mom do? "Sweetie, Rachel, please, hold the towel, there, keep your head up, I'm going to call 911. I won't go anywhere."

But as she stands up on shaky legs, her hands covered with blood, she then hears a sound that freezes even her own blood in her veins.

A car is stopping in front of the house.

He has turned around. He's back.

Olivia has two choices, here, and she knows she has to choose quickly.

She can either stay still and stand there stupidly, waiting for him to come back and see what he wants from them.

Or she can fight back.

Olivia runs to his room, then, not knowing that at that very moment, another universe was just created, a universe in which she hasn't moved.

But this is irrelevant.

She simply opens the drawer, grabs the gun, and runs back to the living room, already aiming at the door.

The gun is incredibly heavier than it looks, and even if she knew it would be because she has held it before, her hands are slippery with blood; but she holds on to it tight, breathing hard and loud.

Waiting.

And then the doors open, and he comes in.

She doesn't even let him speak.

They exchange a look, though. He looks clearly stunned by the sight of her with his gun, and she has no way of knowing that at that instant, he's catching a glimpse of the woman she will be in twenty years.

She might be small and skinny, covered in sweat and tears and blood, but that look in her eyes is making all the difference in the world.

So she pulls the trigger, aiming for the head.

But she is only a kid, and she's shaking, and the gun is heavy. The bullet hits him in the shoulder.

He doesn't even fall, while she's disoriented by the blast and the energy that came out of the weapon. But she knows she can't let him see her weakness. He's still strong; he can lunge at her and grab the gun.

So she loads it again, and shoots, aiming for his chest.

She succeeds.

She's pretty sure it went in close to his heart.

He doesn't fall on the ground right away, though. He's still standing, slumped against the doorframe, as blood spreads quickly on his once grey shirt.

He still hasn't said a word, and neither has she. But it's his turn to give her a look, as she loads the gun for the third time.

It's like he's almost daring her to finish.

But she can't.


Three months later, she gets a card for her birthday.

It's a picture of a red rose in black and white, making the flower dark and eerie. There's no name, no address.

Inside, it says: "I'm thinking of you."

And just above the inscription, there are two words, written in black ink:

TRUST ME.

But Olivia doesn't trust anybody, for the exception of her mom and her sister.

On that very minute, though, as she stares at those words that will haunt her for the rest of her life, Olivia understands that people with a grudge should be trusted as well.


OoOoOoO


Olivia is fourteen when she painfully realizes that, like any other adults, parents lie to you, too.

She's by no mean a stupid girl; most people actually often say that she is very bright and mature for her age, sometimes a little too much. So she has of course known for years that her mom could lie.

But all those lies she tells, she mostly tells them to herself.

"Daddy went to Heaven, baby." What she really means is that he was killed on mission and his body has been put in a box now buried in the ground.

"We can't live just by ourselves anymore, Olive, I'm too sick. We need Dan." They could have kept going just fine, just the three of them. They would have been happier.

"He's not such a bad guy in the end; he just has a…problem."

A problem two bullets couldn't solve.

But it's not until she's fourteen, sitting next to her hospital bed with her silver cross in her hand, that her mom tells her the biggest lie of all.

"You're going to be fine, baby. Even when I'm not here anymore. Trust me."

But as she watches the casket being lowered into the ground, Rachel sobbing hard against her arm, Olivia realizes just how wrong her mom was. And she feels dead inside, just like her mom had felt for years, even before that cancer finally got the best of her. And she doesn't know what's worse.

That her mom died, or that by doing so, she has left her with nobody to trust but her eleven year old sister?

And she can't hold back her sorrow anymore, a dry sob coming out of her, as she understands that in the end, her lie is what hurts the most.

Because, let's be honest.

She knows she will never be fine.


OoOoOoO


Olivia's life is a lonely life.

But it's alright. That's how it's always been, and how can she miss something she's never had?

She's pretty content with herself; Rachel is doing good, being the social butterfly she never was; school is good, too great even.

Learning and books are her safe haven, and she immerges herself into both with all her might. She doesn't even care about the weird looks her classmates give her, or the fact that they call her 'Han', more or less behind her back. As for 'Han Solo', yes.

She goes through Boarding School, and goes to college.

Then, she falls in love.

And love is a funny thing, really.

In a heartbeat full of endorphins, it makes you want to change, so you can be a better person for that special being. And before you know it, you have actually changed.

And it's not always a bad thing.

Lucas is smart, smart enough to abide her intense love of books and all the studies hours, joining her in the library and debating animatedly about nothing and everything.

Lucas is funny. She has stopped counting how many times he has made her laugh so hard that her stomach actually hurt. And she realizes then that laughing is an amazing feeling, and that really, she should do it more often.

Lucas is sociable. He takes her out, and introduces her to his friends. At first, she's awkward, feeling out of place, underdressed, and simply inadequate.

She buys make up. She buys a dress. Then another one. Then she calls one of the girls she has met so she could come over and show her how to put on eyeliner correctly, because she simply looks ridiculous.

Lucas is sweet and warm. Lucas is real and strong, and she loves to breathe in deeply right there, in the crook of his neck, where his scent is the strongest.

And then, Lucas is gone.

And she doesn't get it. Why it hurts so much.

Sure, she misses him. He had invaded her life, her head and her heart for more than three years. But she's not so lonely anymore, her world never revolved around him. She has friends, she goes out, dresses up from time to time, and has become a lot more confident about her own body, embracing the young woman within her.

Her friends tell her it's normal to feel pretty bad for a while after that kind of abrupt breakup, and they call him the nastiest names, trying to make her feel better.

But she knows it's not the breakup, not really.

And then, it hits her.

It's the betrayal of trust that comes with it.

Without realizing it, she had come to trust him, like she had never trusted anyone before who wasn't immediate family. How, and why, she can't figure it out.

She simply did. And she understands now why she has always trusted her family so blindly.

And that is her first real lesson on love.

With love, you come to trust people.

But it still doesn't mean they can be trusted.

So she promises herself she will never love again.


OoOoOoOoO


Olivia falls in love four years later.

It's unexpected, but then again, love rarely sends you a two weeks' notice. It simply imposes itself on you, and you can't do anything but yield to its bittersweet claws.

It's okay, though. She knows this is the purest love of all, and that nothing will ever compare to it.

One look into those beautiful green eyes, and she knows her heart is forever taken.

She has fallen asleep in her arms while she was feeding her, and Olivia is now trying to burp her like Rachel has showed her –against her shoulder. But the baby's head has found its way into the crook of her neck, and she can feel each little rapid breath coming out of her tiny nose against her skin.

Olivia closes her eyes, then, still rubbing Ella's back gently. She breathes in deeply, intoxicated by that wonderful baby scent of her hair, of her whole minuscule body against hers.

And for a while, there, she believes with all her heart that life is actually pretty good.


OoOoOoOoO


Lies.

Blood.

Tears.

Where is it, then? All the romantic craps that make you believe that love brings you happiness, comfort and a sense of belonging?

Olivia hates to cry; she has always hated to cry. It takes a lot for her to break down, even more to make her do so in the view of dozens of people.

And yet there she is, sobbing her heart out in the back of an ambulance, trying to calm herself down.

But every time she thinks she's getting there, John's bloody face forces itself in front of her eyes again, and the aching hole in her chest burns deeper and deeper, and she cries harder.

She loved him; she loves him. To the point where she has actually admitted it to him, which is even rarer for her than tears.

And all she got in return was a knife stabbed in her back, piercing her heart in the process.

There you go again, then.

You love, you trust.

And then the betrayal comes.

And that's her second lesson on love.

With love, you trust people, even when you promised yourself you would never be fooled again.

But Olivia knows this was her last time.

She will never love again.


OoOoOoOoO


N/A: Like I said, the second (and last) part will be posted tomorrow…if you want it :p It will obviously revolved around Olivia and Peter, from season 1 to…later :D

I would really deeply appreciate any feedback on this!