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Title: Impact in Amber
Fandom: Fringe
Word Count: ~300
Character: Peter Bishop
Rating: All Ages
Summary: The Watcher said that Peter was brought back by everyone who cared about him. Olivia's memories are revising themselves for the same reason. What's next?
Author's Notes: Episode tag for 4x15, "A Short Story about Love"
"Peter? Peter Bishop?" A grey-haired woman with a long striped Doctor Who scarf called out to him from the end of the convenience store aisle.
Blinking tiredly, he remembered the scarf first, then her face. "Mrs Freelander! Twelfth grade math, right? It's been a while."
"How's your mother? And what are you doing with yourself these days?"
Peter took a moment to put his thoughts in order – it had been strange seeing his mother in the other universe – before answering. "My mother passed away a few years ago."
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. She was a lovely person." Mrs Freelander patted his arm with genuine sympathy. "I'm still teaching high school math, same as ever, but I'd love to hear what you're up to. Harvard, wasn't it?"
"College didn't stick. But I'm consulting with the FBI now, so you can't say my education was a complete waste of time."
"Very nice! I'm glad you put that brain of yours to work, Peter. I always said that you could change the world if you put your mind to it."
Peter stared at his high school teacher in sudden realisation. He hadn't gone to high school in this universe. He hadn't existed at all until a few months ago.
Before Peter could say anything, to question or accuse, a teenage girl slouched around the corner and into the aisle. She had the same beaky features as Mrs Freelander, though she was taller and her hair was dyed pink.
"Mom! Come on, we'll be late!"
Mrs Freelander turned, a polite but neutral smile on her face. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
Peter wasn't proud of it, but he ran, straight back to his apartment. The hole in the floor left by the Watcher's departure gaped at him, silent.
"You deformed the universe!" Peter yelled. "It's not me! I just wanted to go home!"
The only reply was the echo of his own voice, distorted and hollowed by the depth of the hole.
Fandom: Fringe
Word Count: ~300
Character: Peter Bishop
Rating: All Ages
Summary: The Watcher said that Peter was brought back by everyone who cared about him. Olivia's memories are revising themselves for the same reason. What's next?
Author's Notes: Episode tag for 4x15, "A Short Story about Love"
"Peter? Peter Bishop?" A grey-haired woman with a long striped Doctor Who scarf called out to him from the end of the convenience store aisle.
Blinking tiredly, he remembered the scarf first, then her face. "Mrs Freelander! Twelfth grade math, right? It's been a while."
"How's your mother? And what are you doing with yourself these days?"
Peter took a moment to put his thoughts in order – it had been strange seeing his mother in the other universe – before answering. "My mother passed away a few years ago."
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. She was a lovely person." Mrs Freelander patted his arm with genuine sympathy. "I'm still teaching high school math, same as ever, but I'd love to hear what you're up to. Harvard, wasn't it?"
"College didn't stick. But I'm consulting with the FBI now, so you can't say my education was a complete waste of time."
"Very nice! I'm glad you put that brain of yours to work, Peter. I always said that you could change the world if you put your mind to it."
Peter stared at his high school teacher in sudden realisation. He hadn't gone to high school in this universe. He hadn't existed at all until a few months ago.
Before Peter could say anything, to question or accuse, a teenage girl slouched around the corner and into the aisle. She had the same beaky features as Mrs Freelander, though she was taller and her hair was dyed pink.
"Mom! Come on, we'll be late!"
Mrs Freelander turned, a polite but neutral smile on her face. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
Peter wasn't proud of it, but he ran, straight back to his apartment. The hole in the floor left by the Watcher's departure gaped at him, silent.
"You deformed the universe!" Peter yelled. "It's not me! I just wanted to go home!"
The only reply was the echo of his own voice, distorted and hollowed by the depth of the hole.