A/N: This is from Lincoln's perspective during 'Bloodline' after he and Henry find Altlivia in Chinatown through to the end of the episode after we see Altlivia in the hospital.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fringe, if I did I would make sure Fringe had a guaranteed eight seasons.

In that moment he loved her more than he had ever allowed himself to, kneeling under the red and yellow neon lights of the Chinatown shop as Olivia clung to him and clenched her hand around his. With words that he didn't know he had he whispered hope to her in little morsels to keep her going, to get her through it.

She had to get through it.

He felt his throat clench as her grip tightened on his jacket and her face screwed up in pain as another contraction hit. Her eyes watered more as she looked at him, something more than just a plea on her face.

"You promise me that you'll stay until this is over," she said, her eyes full of fear.

He tried not to choke on his words: "There's no other place for me to be."

Tears spilled down her face and traced blurry patterns over her skin; he wished that he could make them disappear.

He was clutching her hand so tightly he hoped that she didn't notice that he was shaking.

Henry told her to push again and he whispered the last words of hope that he had for her:

"I love you."

She looked back at him, something between bewilderment and surprise mingled in her eyes. Her skin was so pale. She gasped as another contraction hit.

"Promise me," she whispered hoarsely, "That you'll save the baby."

His mind whirred and his heart burned; she thought she was going to die.

He wouldn't allow that, he would say 'I love you' to her a thousand times just to keep her gentle heart beating.

But any words aside from her name escaped him at that moment as tears smeared his vision.


"Promise me," she hissed.

"I promise," he whispered as he pulled her closer to him.

Just a little longer Liv, he thought. You can make it.

He tried not to break into hysteric sobs as Olivia pushed one last time.

A moment later the baby was there, and his little face was so beautifully innocent that he knew Olivia had to see it.

"He's here, he's okay!" Henry said ecstatically.

Lincoln turned to Olivia: "You hear that Liv?"

But when he looked to her, her eyes were closed and her head drooped into his chest. Her hair curved around her tired face and closed eyes.


Something inside him screamed. There was burning and pain and a thousand other things that clawed through him at that moment.

He would've bled himself there if it meant that she would take another breath, if she would whisper something to him, if she would open those sparkling eyes once more.

And then she sighed with the slightest hint of a gasp.

He laughed, in the most absurdly ironic way he laughed at the pure luck of what had happened.

Olivia was alive.

"He's fine," he said as Henry placed the baby on Olivia's chest.

Olivia placed her hand on the smooth curve of her son's head as Lincoln held her close.

"You have a son," Henry said calmly.

Olivia's bright eyes widened slightly, and Lincoln could only imagine the shocking beauty of the situation now upon her.

"He's beautiful," she said softly as she cradled her son in her arms.

He carried a large bouquet of yellow tulips in with him when he went to see her at the hospital. He'd heard Olivia say once that yellow was a rather cheerful colour. His mother had grown them in neat little rows outside their house when he was young and he'd loved them for their resilience under the sun and rain.

He loved them for their persistence.

He walked into her room and a great smile splashed across her face as she held her son in her arms.

"Hey," she said and then noticed the flowers, "Yellow... how did you know?" she said it with a hint of sarcasm and he laughed.

"Let you in on a little secret... I'm psychic," he whispered.

She mocked an expression of shock: "Really... in that case you can tell me what names I'm thinking of for him," she said motioning to her son.

He pursed his lips, "Hmm...I'm gonna say... Jeremiah."

She burst into laughter: "Not even close."

And he laughed with her.

"Alright so maybe I exaggerated a little."

"You think?" she teased.

He sat down in a chair next to her bed and looked at her son curled in her arms, his tiny face so innocent and beautiful he was almost speechless.

"He really is a miracle Liv."

"Yea, he is," she said as she looked at her son and then back to Lincoln, "Would you like to hold him?"

A smile curved over his face: "Sure."

She handed the delicate infant to him and he cradled him carefully and the child gave a slight squeal in response.

Lincoln looked over to Olivia and then back at the little child he was holding and realised something.

This; this wonderful moment of pure bliss was theirs to hold, to cherish and keep forever.

And Lincoln couldn't think of anything more beautiful.

Later, as he strolled down the staircase with Charlie he looked back over his shoulder to the Secretary as he walked up the stairs to see Olivia and his grandchild.

Lincoln couldn't help but imagine a dark cloud that billowed up the steps in his wake.

He remembered the yellow tulips that he'd given her, so jovial and cheerful. He would build a whole world out of yellow tulips for her, castles and mountains that comforted her in their yellow gleam.

He would do it if it made things easier; if it made what was to come a little less difficult for her.

It would be outright ridiculous for him to say that he completely trusted Secretary Bishop. He had a suspicion, and he wasn't one to let such things go unnoticed.

Olivia's protection was his concern for at least a dozen reasons now and he would state all of them and more if someone asked. He cared too deeply for her and her son to leave his hunch dormant.

He'd always known that in life there were limits.

When it came to the protection of Olivia Dunham and her son, there were none.


I love this pairing and I love writing for them, espeically after Friday's episode. Please review and tell me what you think :)