Disclaimer: I do not own Fringe, although if it is ever up for sale you will most definitely see my name on the bidding list. I've had this in my documents for a while and thought that I should post it.
A/N: This takes place far into the future of the series, after all resolves have run dry... the universes are about to collide.
Peter Bishop had never contemplated a day where he would spend two hours searching the hollow remains of a corner store for a chocolate bar.
The tremors that had foreshadowed the coming events had scared many away; the large cities abandoned and left desolate wastelands for the confused and the brave. Boston was like that, barren and crumbling like a charred forest. The buildings trembled, ready to topple at any moment, like a burned tree.
His foot brushed against something and he heard a crinkle. He stopped abruptly and looked down, the brightly coloured, crumpled package of a Twix bar before him.
Finally, he thought.
He pocketed the confection, wrapped in its precious gold blanket and went to find Olivia. She too, was among these toppled and broken pillars of social convenience.
A faint thud drew his eyes, pinpoints like twin binoculars to a freezer door. The sound was accompanied by an exasperated sigh.
She turned sharply, his voice preventing her from reaching from her gun in alarm, "Hey, Peter," she said.
"No milk?" He asked and she shook her head in response.
"Nothing. Seems like everyone got the same idea to stock up before they left."
"Talk about a grab 'n go," he mused.
A brief smile crossed her face, a rarity now. He seemed to be seeing more of those now, as the days grew less in number and more potent in significance. He liked the days when she smiled; she always seemed in a better mood then.
He pulled the chocolate bar from his pocket, the foil wrapping crinkled musically in his hand, "Well at the very least we won't starve."
She tried to hold in a laugh at how ridiculous it was; it was food, but a chocolate bar to sustain two adults? He might as well have been trying to stretch a cube of toffee to the moon.
But he still peeled back the wrapping and handed her one of the slightly mashed bars that she devoured eagerly. Her frame was thinner, he noticed.
There was nothing else to find, even regarding weeks old headlines that they'd already discussed on their previous visits held no interest.
It was the second last day, one that Peter chose to spend with Olivia since the next they would all spend together; him, Olivia, Walter, Astrid, Rachel and Ella all together.
She hadn't cried in five days, it almost scared him now that she still hadn't. For a week he'd seen tears burst from some of her deepest emotional wells and now it seemed like she had buried them all, her cache of tears had run dry.
Those days had been ruled by emotion's greedy paws, but tonight, it was just him and Olivia.
At dawn the next morning, they lay curled among black ribbons and shut curtains, soft whispers their only company. But through a sliver in the dark curtains, a tendril of bloody sunlight crept in and bled over Olivia's face.
She blinked against the crimson spotlight in her eye, her hand blocking it before the situation tumbled down; and an avalanche of realisation toppled onto her with a gargantuan force.
The last day had come. Destiny's hourglass had finally run out as fate shattered the glass and scattered the sand. Now Armageddon marched its soldiers over the disarrayed sands, leaving thick, heavy footprints in their wake.
She sat up, waking Peter in the process. He too, saw the bleeding sunlight that seeped into their room and the conviction it held.
But they ignored the sunlight and pulled the covers back over themselves and hid, a few more words whispered, more than one I love you was heard. The day had only just cusped the edge of waking, and their time had not yet come.
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