Disclaimer: I own nothing. Fringe belongs to J. J. Abrams, Alex Kurtzman and Roberto Orci.
A/N: These drabbles aren't connected and won't always be in chronological order.
A/N 2: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.Spoilers for Ep. 3:09
She goes to Astrid because she knows she won't say no. That although she's never approached the other woman outside of work before, she won't deny her now. That she will open her door, open herself, and offer that warmth – that sense of home that Olivia needs so badly. That she is craving right now.
She almost feels ashamed of that knowledge. That she knows Astrid is just there to take advantage of at anytime without complaint. But …she's been so cold
since she got back from the other side.
And she can't go home (can't go to Peter), can't find comfort there - because her home isn't hers anymore. It's been tainted. Contaminated by something that looks like her. Worse than a shape shifter, an actual another Olivia.
One that took her place and lived her life. Stealing her job, wearing her clothes, using her utensils, reading her mail, sleeping in her bed, sleeping with…..
Living her life. And doing a better job of it than she ever did.
It feels like she woke up to find her life had been changed while she was dreaming (a strange and disturbing dream). Everything just slightly off. Changed to the preference of someone that was very much like her but just enough different to matter. Just enough to feel wrong.
Everything felt so wrong.
She was home but it didn't feel like she remembered. This was her world but it was all cold to her.
She wants to be warm again, so with after a deep breath she knocks on the door. It takes a few seconds but finally the door swings open and there she is – Astrid wearing a burgundy terry cloth robe.
"Olivia?" she asks and her voice is worried but her eyes are warm and Olivia chokes on a sob.
"Olivia," Astrid says again her eyes widening in surprise even as her arms automatically reach out and pull her inside the apartment, closing the door behind.
And…and it's warm inside. That shouldn't be the surprise and wonder that it is. That shouldn't break her even more.
"Olivia?" she asks a third time, her voice gentle and coaxing in a way Olivia has heard it be many times with Walter. "What's wrong?"
She looks up at Astrid and says the only thing she can in a voice so quiet she is surprised the other woman can catch it, "I'm cold."
But Astrid does hear her and everything about her countenance seems to soften as she pulls the taller woman into a hug.
And Olivia just closes her eyes, lets herself go, and melts into.
Because this is what she wanted; the comfort she needed but didn't know how to put into words – could never have actually asked for. She tilts her head slightly, feeling curls brush her temple, breathes deeply, and smiles.