Fringe fic (AU), The Air There Breaks, Astrid Farnsworth, others, PG
Disclaimer: not mine
Fandom: Fringe
Characters: Astrid, Olivia, Peter and Walter in the periphery (Olivia/Peter, sort of implied? I think?)
Length: just over 1,000 words
Rating: PG, implied badness.
Genre: angst, AU
Spoilers: through the end of season two.
Notes: *whines* why didn't it stay short enough for a comment? Written for this prompt "Fringe-Astrid was dosed with Cortexiphan" (title from Underworld's 'Louisiana')
Summary: Astrid is ~magic~, and saves the universe.
The Air There Breaks
by ALC Punk!
Astrid doesn't talk about the things that happened to her when she was a kid.
-
Getting assigned as Olivia Dunham's partner wasn't what she was expecting, but Broyles tells her she was the brightest of the lot, and Charlie's needed to work with someone else. She and Dunham work around each other, finding the parts where they fit and where they argue--it's a good partnership.
Astrid likes Olivia, but she doesn't open up to her much. Olivia's just as close-mouthed, so they're even.
-
Meeting Walter Bishop (again) fractures her world. (she tells herself that it can't be him--he didn't like cows)
-
Astrid liked to think of herself as a stable, goal-oriented, career-driven agent. Standing, with her hands shaking as the voice in her ear tells her to just use your mind, Agent Farnsworth, she thinks about giving it all up for sun and surf in the middle of nowhere.
Some place that they don't know her name, where her memories don't suddenly crowd to the fore-front, where she doesn't burn forever and ever--
The windows open, letting out the smoke that threatened to kill them all.
No one touched them.
-
Alternate realities are easier to believe than some of the things Astrid sees every day. Science and magic blend imperceptibly until she's writing reports about bugs that control their host and women burning from the inside out, before they can learn to stop. It's like a bad blockbuster movie gone horribly wrong, only no one ever talks about the little girl in the corner, so afraid that her bed is standing (smashed) up against the wall and her nails leave scratches in the concrete.
-
There was something wrong with Charlie.
Astrid blames herself for taking so long to realize it--for making Olivia watch her as she killed the imposter. The stench made her gag, arms wrapping around herself as she fights back the wave of darkness. Her throat hurts, and Olivia is gasping, crying just a little, but also raging.
Nothing will be the same again.
-
"Do you remember living in Florida?" Broyles has asked this before.
Astrid presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, then shoves her hands over her head, nails catching in her hair for a moment. The pain is a welcome distraction. "No, sir."
For the hundredth time, he makes a note.
She's free to leave, of course. But they call it grief counseling, and Broyles won't sign off on her return to active duty until he's happy with the results.
-
Growing up being afraid of her own shadow made Astrid different--she watched the other girls as they laughed, traded boyfriends and kisses, wrote poetry, planned their families--it wasn't enough for her (and she sometimes thought it wasn't enough for them). She worked hard to get accepted to college, to learn to use a gun. Going into the FBI straight out of school seemed to solve her problems.
Only, the shadows had a way of coming back, and they weren't easy to shoot at.
-
Back on the job, she and Dunham don't talk.
It's just as well, Walter has a new body for them, and the other Bishop is giving them interested looks. Astrid tunes him out and buries herself in her work.
She ignores the moments when tools slide across the lab bench and into her hands.
-
Figuring out how to move between realities is harder than it looks. Sometimes, Astrid can feel the pieces of the openings as though she could gather them all up into a ball and throw them at a bulls-eye. Other times, they're whisps of nothingness.
Pulling Dunham along with her wasn't part of the plan, but they need each other to survive if they're going to stop the ends of both their worlds.
-
Astrid breaks the machine.
She doesn't mean to, but she can see what it will do, and Dunham is fighting for her life against a man who isn't Charlie (again). So it's up to Astrid to stop Peter Bishop, with that strange look in his eyes as her hands touch the metal (plastic, flesh).
The air shivers with power for an instant, and then Peter is falling forward into her as the machine fractures, pieces showering them in an explosion that rings forever.
-
Being on the run in an alternate reality with better security than your own means cold hands and sleeping in doorways. Astrid starts missing hot showers about the same time Dunham comes down with the flu.
Bishop catches it from her, and Astrid doesn't make any comments on their sleeping arrangements, even as she prays to a deity she doesn't really believe in that they'll figure out a way to get home before they all die in the gutter.
-
Picking pockets is easier than standing and looking pathetic and worn. Astrid's little talents make it even easier.
-
They get back because Astrid remembers how their reality feels against the palms of her hands. She almost doesn't being Bishop along with them, but Dunham is clinging to them both, and Astrid can't really blame him for the things his father did (both of them).
Broyles orders a thorough de-briefing and she dodges it, done with being a good little agent.
There aren't any shadows in her apartment with all of the lights on. She sits on the couch and breathes in the clean air and thinks of nothing.
-
Walter brings her fresh milk the next day, suggesting they make a pie. He's all smiles and Astrid wants to be all screams and frowns, but there's not time for that.
Not yet.
-
It's four of them for dinner, and Dunham is so-so careful around Peter, and Walter is confused and not-so-lost. Astrid doesn't actually make the pie, but the freezer is good enough for all of them.
She smiles a little when she swirls whipped cream with her finger, popping it into her mouth.
There's nothing quite like the taste of reality.
-f-
Fandom: Fringe
Characters: Astrid, Olivia, Peter and Walter in the periphery (Olivia/Peter, sort of implied? I think?)
Length: just over 1,000 words
Rating: PG, implied badness.
Genre: angst, AU
Spoilers: through the end of season two.
Notes: *whines* why didn't it stay short enough for a comment? Written for this prompt "Fringe-Astrid was dosed with Cortexiphan" (title from Underworld's 'Louisiana')
Summary: Astrid is ~magic~, and saves the universe.
The Air There Breaks
by ALC Punk!
Astrid doesn't talk about the things that happened to her when she was a kid.
-
Getting assigned as Olivia Dunham's partner wasn't what she was expecting, but Broyles tells her she was the brightest of the lot, and Charlie's needed to work with someone else. She and Dunham work around each other, finding the parts where they fit and where they argue--it's a good partnership.
Astrid likes Olivia, but she doesn't open up to her much. Olivia's just as close-mouthed, so they're even.
-
Meeting Walter Bishop (again) fractures her world. (she tells herself that it can't be him--he didn't like cows)
-
Astrid liked to think of herself as a stable, goal-oriented, career-driven agent. Standing, with her hands shaking as the voice in her ear tells her to just use your mind, Agent Farnsworth, she thinks about giving it all up for sun and surf in the middle of nowhere.
Some place that they don't know her name, where her memories don't suddenly crowd to the fore-front, where she doesn't burn forever and ever--
The windows open, letting out the smoke that threatened to kill them all.
No one touched them.
-
Alternate realities are easier to believe than some of the things Astrid sees every day. Science and magic blend imperceptibly until she's writing reports about bugs that control their host and women burning from the inside out, before they can learn to stop. It's like a bad blockbuster movie gone horribly wrong, only no one ever talks about the little girl in the corner, so afraid that her bed is standing (smashed) up against the wall and her nails leave scratches in the concrete.
-
There was something wrong with Charlie.
Astrid blames herself for taking so long to realize it--for making Olivia watch her as she killed the imposter. The stench made her gag, arms wrapping around herself as she fights back the wave of darkness. Her throat hurts, and Olivia is gasping, crying just a little, but also raging.
Nothing will be the same again.
-
"Do you remember living in Florida?" Broyles has asked this before.
Astrid presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, then shoves her hands over her head, nails catching in her hair for a moment. The pain is a welcome distraction. "No, sir."
For the hundredth time, he makes a note.
She's free to leave, of course. But they call it grief counseling, and Broyles won't sign off on her return to active duty until he's happy with the results.
-
Growing up being afraid of her own shadow made Astrid different--she watched the other girls as they laughed, traded boyfriends and kisses, wrote poetry, planned their families--it wasn't enough for her (and she sometimes thought it wasn't enough for them). She worked hard to get accepted to college, to learn to use a gun. Going into the FBI straight out of school seemed to solve her problems.
Only, the shadows had a way of coming back, and they weren't easy to shoot at.
-
Back on the job, she and Dunham don't talk.
It's just as well, Walter has a new body for them, and the other Bishop is giving them interested looks. Astrid tunes him out and buries herself in her work.
She ignores the moments when tools slide across the lab bench and into her hands.
-
Figuring out how to move between realities is harder than it looks. Sometimes, Astrid can feel the pieces of the openings as though she could gather them all up into a ball and throw them at a bulls-eye. Other times, they're whisps of nothingness.
Pulling Dunham along with her wasn't part of the plan, but they need each other to survive if they're going to stop the ends of both their worlds.
-
Astrid breaks the machine.
She doesn't mean to, but she can see what it will do, and Dunham is fighting for her life against a man who isn't Charlie (again). So it's up to Astrid to stop Peter Bishop, with that strange look in his eyes as her hands touch the metal (plastic, flesh).
The air shivers with power for an instant, and then Peter is falling forward into her as the machine fractures, pieces showering them in an explosion that rings forever.
-
Being on the run in an alternate reality with better security than your own means cold hands and sleeping in doorways. Astrid starts missing hot showers about the same time Dunham comes down with the flu.
Bishop catches it from her, and Astrid doesn't make any comments on their sleeping arrangements, even as she prays to a deity she doesn't really believe in that they'll figure out a way to get home before they all die in the gutter.
-
Picking pockets is easier than standing and looking pathetic and worn. Astrid's little talents make it even easier.
-
They get back because Astrid remembers how their reality feels against the palms of her hands. She almost doesn't being Bishop along with them, but Dunham is clinging to them both, and Astrid can't really blame him for the things his father did (both of them).
Broyles orders a thorough de-briefing and she dodges it, done with being a good little agent.
There aren't any shadows in her apartment with all of the lights on. She sits on the couch and breathes in the clean air and thinks of nothing.
-
Walter brings her fresh milk the next day, suggesting they make a pie. He's all smiles and Astrid wants to be all screams and frowns, but there's not time for that.
Not yet.
-
It's four of them for dinner, and Dunham is so-so careful around Peter, and Walter is confused and not-so-lost. Astrid doesn't actually make the pie, but the freezer is good enough for all of them.
She smiles a little when she swirls whipped cream with her finger, popping it into her mouth.
There's nothing quite like the taste of reality.
-f-