Fic: Stranger Things (In Plain Sight/Fringe crossover, Part 2)
Title: Stranger Things
Ratings, etc., same as in part one.
They arrived a few minutes after 3:00, the Fringe team close behind them. “This is it,” said Marshall rather unnecessarily. “The... events haven't been starting until after 5:00, but if you need to set up equipment, now would be an opportune time.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Dr. Bishop. “Peter, if you would assist me?”
“Sure,” Peter said.
“Where, specifically, in the structure of the building are the events most localized?” Dr. Bishop asked, as they opened the trunk of their car.
Mary and Marshall hesitated. “Neither of us has more than the one time experiencing this in person,” Marshall said finally, “but if I had to guess, I would say the first floor.”
“Very well, we'll start there. My machines are sensitive enough to pick up readings even if that does not turn out to be correct, in any case,” said Dr. Bishop. Agent Dunham followed as they headed in, presumably to help with setup or with answering questions tenants might have - although Mary wondered just what kind of answer the team members would be able to give.
“Is there anything we can do?” Marshall offered.
Dunham stopped. “Uh, if you could tell me where the witness you mentioned lives, and introduce me to him, I'd like to speak with him, if he's home.”
Mary did a mental double-take at the use of that term for George Van Allen, but quickly figured out what she meant. “Yeah, sure. I get the feeling he works from home, so he'll probably be there. He'll probably be extra thrilled to see the FBI is involved.”
“Maybe we can all reinforce his faith in the government to solve the people's problems,” Marshall agreed.
Dunham smiled. “Let's hope so.” As they went inside, she informed Peter what they were doing. “We'll catch up with you after.”
He smiled at her as he acknowledged her words in a way that Mary couldn't help but notice. Now she had even more to speculate about in regards to the members of this team, but she decided to file that away for another time.
George was indeed home and he did indeed seem pleased to have the interest of yet another federal agency. Dunham paid close attention to his story, asked a few clarifying questions, and thanked him for his time. Before they left, she had one more question. “Oh, by the way, Mr. Van Allen, how long have you lived here?”
“Uh, just about... yeah, five years now.” He seemed to be waiting for some explanation for the question, but hearing none, he added, “Nothing like this ever happened until just this week.”
“All right, well, thank you again,” said Dunham. “We'll do our best to get this figured out.”
“I hope so,” said George. “And let me know if I can be of any more help.”
“I'll be sure to do that,” she said.
When they had left, Mary asked, “So did you really get anything helpful out of that?”
“Sort of,” said Dunham. “Did you get any other witness statements?”
Mary traded a look with Marshall. “Not exactly. We do have a... friend who lives here, but she basically seemed to corroborate what Van Allen said.”
Dunham paused and gave them a speculative look. “And this friend of yours, does she have anything to do with why you as U.S. Marshals might be interested in this case to begin with?”
“I'm not sure what you mean,” Mary said casually.
Dunham nodded. “I see. Would it be all right if I spoke to her, as well?”
Marshall caught Mary's eye again. He spoke carefully. “We do want to help...”
“Of course I'd like you two to be present,” Dunham put in, as he hesitated. “You could... guide my questions, if you want.”
Mary sighed. “All right, fine. Ashley Stuart is just down the hallway, but she's probably at work. She'll be-” She caught herself, not wanting to sound too sure. “I believe she'll be back in an hour or two.”
“Okay,” said Dunham. There was indeed no response when Mary knocked on her door, so they headed back to where the two Bishops were.
The setup appeared to be over. Dr. Bishop was pacing around and talking on a cell phone to someone, and seemed rather agitated. “What do you mean? That won't work at all!”
“Is everything all right, Peter?” Dunham asked, gesturing to his father.
“Oh, fine. I think Walter just wants to be here and at the lab at the same time,” Peter explained. “But Astrid's used to his micromanaging. She can take it. What did you find out?”
“Well, George Van Allen's story is interesting enough,” she replied. “But I don't think he's our guy, if there is a guy.”
Peter nodded. “Hopefully we'll find out this evening, if everything happens again.”
“'A guy'?” Mary said quickly. “You think a person is causing this?”
“It's possible,” Peter said. “Why, what did you think?”
Marshall shrugged. “We hadn't got farther than mentioning - and disregarding, in my partner's case - the possibility of a poltergeist, to be honest.”
“Nonsense, there is no such thing,” Dr. Bishop said, rejoining the group.
“You're sure?” Marshall asked, sounding honestly curious.
“I've never encountered a case with a so-called haunting that did not end up having a scientific explanation,” was Dr. Bishop's answer.
Mary, who could still barely believe she was experiencing anything that resulted in her being present during this conversation, shook her head, doubt obvious in her voice as she spoke. “Well, you guys are the experts, I guess. Anyway, we still have over an hour until five. Anything else we should do?”
“And your friend should be back before then, right?” Dunham asked.
“What friend?” Dr. Bishop wondered.
“The Inspectors know someone who lives here, and I thought we should probably get her statement, but she's at work right now,” Dunham said.
“You both happen to be acquainted with her, and she lives at this building?” Dr. Bishop said.
Peter got the same sort of calculating look that Dunham had earlier. “Ah. I'm guessing you guys aren't the kind of marshals who deliver warrants.”
“What do you-? Ohh,” said his father. “You mean-”
“Now that we've got that out of the way, and you understand neither Marshall nor I are confirming or denying anything you're saying,” Mary cut in, “our friend Ashley Stuart is - probably - going to get back at around 4:45.”
It was Dr. Bishop's turn to look as though he was carefully considering something. “Oh my. If this Ashley Stuart is...” He looked up at Mary and Marshall, trailing off, then seemed to make up his mind. He went over to Agent Dunham and whispered something in her ear. It took a minute, but Dunham appeared to be listening closely. Peter, on the other hand, looked impatient, which Mary certainly understood.
When he finished, Dunham turned back to the marshals. “Inspectors, may I ask you a purely theoretical question? I'm pretty sure I know the answers, but I'd like to get your expert opinions.”
“Go ahead,” said Mary guardedly.
“All right. What are the reasons someone might choose to enter Witness Protection?”
“Theoretically,” Dr. Bishop added.
“Well, federally protected witnesses are either witnesses of a crime or criminals themselves who agree to testify against their former colleagues or conspirators,” Marshall replied smoothly. “In either category, the witness agrees to testify in exchange for being kept safe from potential retribution.”
“But they have to give up their former lives and start completely new ones, right?” Peter said, obviously just wanting their confirmation. “They might have lived somewhere entirely across the country before they enter the program?”
“That's the idea,” Mary said. “But why is this important? It sounds like you think Ashley might have something to do with this, and that's crazy. Theoretically.”
“No one thinks your friend is doing anything malicious to cause this,” said Dunham, after a moment. “Or that anyone is, for that matter.”
“It's not being done on purpose,” said Dr. Bishop, “whether or not it is your friend who is the cause.”
“Oh, thanks, that clears everything right up,” Mary said, crossing her arms.
“What Inspector Shannon means to say,” Marshall cut in, “is that it seems like we're going to need more information in order to do our jobs and help you do yours.”
“More or less,” Mary agreed.
“So is that possible?” Marshall asked.
There was another pause. Peter was the first to break the silence. “I know it's not my call, but given what we already... may know about their jobs, I'd say they can handle keeping things quiet.”
Agent Dunham nodded. “I was thinking along the same lines. I'll call Broyles.” She stepped away and put her phone to her ear.
“I told you this would be a blast,” Mary grumbled to Marshall, keeping her voice down.
“It's not as bad as it could be,” Marshall said, also in a low tone. “At least we're not attempting to work with the Men In Black, or anything.”
Mary rolled her eyes. “Oh, hell no. If you're trying to tell me - if anyone tries to tell me that aliens are involved, I give up. I mean it, I am out.”
Dunham came back at that moment. “Broyles agreed that you two aren't likely to spread rumors or cause a panic with this information.”
Mary cocked her head. “No, although as bizarre is this has been, I'd probably keep it to myself anyway.”
“Welcome to our everyday life,” Peter remarked.
Dunham glanced at him and smiled. “Good. Walter, would you like to explain?”
“But without going overboard on the technical details, please?” said Peter quickly.
“Of course not,” said Dr. Bishop. He turned to the marshals. “You've heard of multiple universes?”
“Yes,” said Marshall. “The theory that everything that exists is made up of multiple possible universes, including the one in our history and which we currently experience. The alternate universes may be very like ours but not quite the same. It's even been theorized that every choice we make creates another alternate in which the other choice is the one that happened.”
“Exactly.” Dr. Bishop seemed pleased. “Well-put. I believe that was Hugh Everett who proposed the Many-Worlds theory, which you just described. Well, the key here is this: we know there is an alternate universe. Unfortunately, for reasons which I won't go into, the universes are collapsing in on each other, weakening in certain spots, and we know it will get worse and worse.”
At this point, Mary interrupted, unable to hold back anymore. “Seriously? Multiple universes? You expect us to believe this crap? I mean, it's an interesting plot for a movie, if you like that kind of thing-”
“I assure you,” snapped Dr. Bishop in a much sharper tone than she would have imagined to be able to come out of the man, “it is scientific fact. If you cannot accept this, then I suppose we'll have to deal with this on our own. We've done it before.”
“What the hell? So now you're going to push us out of our own case if we don't believe in your insane theory?”
“Whoa, whoa, let's calm down a moment,” said Peter. “Look, Inspector, I know how crazy this all sounds. I still have trouble believing some of the stuff we see. But I promise this is real.”
“It is,” said Agent Dunham, looking grave. “And we don't want to force you out of this case. I would really appreciate your knowledge of the people involved, and none of us wants to get in the way of any work the U.S. Marshals might be doing here.”
Mary looked at her partner. “Marshall, don't tell me you believe this bull.”
“I can't say that I do, exactly,” Marshall admitted. “But you and I couldn't come up with any explanation for what we've seen or heard about, and Dr. Bishop at least has one. I'm thinking I'll reserve judgment for the time being.”
She sighed, then turned back to Agent Dunham. “And if I called your boss, he'd say the same thing? Really?”
“Yeah. He's seen this kind of thing, too,” the other woman confirmed. “We believe this could be a weak spot between the universes.”
“Yes, the seismic activity, the strange sounds, voices, and figures, the electrical disturbances, it all seems to fit,” said Dr. Bishop. “Although it is worrying that there is one here. I had hoped there was nothing so serious this far west - that's part of why it might be important whether or not your friend has moved across the country.”
“But we can't just go telling people those kinds of facts. That's the whole point of what we do!” Mary insisted.
“How about we decide it's our turn to call our boss,” suggested Marshall. He took out his phone. “All right?”
Mary remained unconvinced. Perhaps seeing this, Agent Dunham pointed out, “We can work with generalities as much as possible. I don't need to know about any specific criminals or even the crime, except possibly how it affected Ashley.”
Every face was turned toward Mary. She sighed again and threw up her hands. “Fine. Call Stan. Because this is officially Bizarro Day, he'll probably agree to this.”
“While your partner makes his call, may I ask you one more question, Inspector?” Dr. Bishop said.
“What is it?” Mary said, imagining what other details were about to be wormed out of her.
His voice was tinged with fascination and glee. “Did I hear correctly that your partner's first name is Marshall, and he is a United States Marshal, making him Marshal Marshall?”
Mary cracked her first genuine smile in what seemed like quite a long time.
~~~~~~
Stan did agree, after having the situation explained (as much as that was possible). It was a good thing, too, Mary guessed, since Ashley Stuart had come home just minutes after they'd finally settled on what they could tell each other. Not that she was going to let anyone know that she had any positive feelings about this, of course. It was all still beyond ridiculous, which she had said more than once already.
Mary was able to catch Ashley as she was heading in and tell her a little about the Fringe team before the younger woman met them. Ashley didn't seem overly pleased about this development, but when Mary and Marshall pointed out that they might be able to help resolve the problems at the building without making Ashley move, she reluctantly agreed to talk to them.
So, once again she and Marshall were inside Ashley Stuart's apartment, although this time it was rather crowded with three other people inside as well. Once again, Ashley could hardly have looked less excited about this attention. “What do you guys want to know?” she said, tapping her fingers against the armrest of her chair.
“If you could tell us what you've seen these past few days, with the strange happenings in this building, that would be great,” Agent Dunham said.
“Fine,” she said. “Well, uh, I've been just finishing my dinner when the rumbling and flashing lights start usually. It's weird, of course, but it hasn't hurt anything, as far as I know.”
Dunham waited for more, but when it didn't seem forthcoming, she prompted, “And is that all you've seen? Some of your neighbors talked about strange figures or voices.”
The young woman started, in a way that reminded Mary of times when Brandi was trying (and failing) to hide her guilt. “Uh, really? No, I haven't - I haven't had anything like that happen.”
Clearly, none of the Fringe team believed that, either. Peter spoke up. “So I hear you're new to the area, Ms. Stuart. Has it been hard, adjusting here? I'm sure you miss your friends and family.”
Ashley shot Mary a scared look.
“It's all right, Ashley. I told you, we checked these guys out. You're safe to tell them about your family, although I'm strongly recommending you keep out any names of people or places.”
“I don't have much family,” Ashley said. “But my sister, I do miss her.” She bit her lip. “We used to do almost everything together.”
“How old is she?” Dunham asked gently.
“She's... she was a year younger than me. She followed me around all the time, from when we were kids,” Ashley said.
Mary, who knew all this already, tried not to let her impatience show. She knew she actually would be sad if her sister had gotten shot in a wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time accidental encounter with a drug lord, but unlike with Ashley's situation, Mary couldn't help being grateful that Brandi had moved out and wasn't currently insinuating herself into everything Mary did.
“You said she 'was' a year younger? What happened to her?” Dunham asked. “I mean, you don't have to tell me exactly.”
“Why do I have to tell you at all?” Ashley burst out suddenly, wiping at her eyes. “What does this have to do with my building and the weird stuff here?”
“I think you might have already guessed that, just a little bit,” Peter said, meeting her eyes. “Did your sister die in whatever caused you to have to move here?” Ashley looked down, and he seemed to take that as confirmation. “I'm sorry.”
“It's hard to lose someone you're close to,” said Agent Dunham. “I bet you feel like you'd do anything to see her again, right?”
Ashley nodded, still not looking up.
“Ashley, I'm going to tell you a quick story about another case Peter, Dr. Bishop, and I investigated,” said Agent Dunham. “At the end, I'm going to ask you if it sounds familiar, all right?”
“Oh, God, story time?” Mary groaned. Marshall looked reproving, and Agent Dunham just looked mildly annoyed. Mary waved a hand. “Fine, fine, let's get this over with.”
Agent Dunham began telling Mary's witness about the Brooklyn case that had brought them to Marshall's attention. Mary was tempted to tune out, but then the FBI agent added in some details that definitely hadn't made it to the news. “We found out that these disturbances seemed to center around one apartment in particular. It belonged to a lady who had just been widowed after almost 45 years together. She missed her husband so much that she couldn't face life without him.”
Ashley shifted in her seat. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and then sighed. “Okay, so what happened when you found that out?”
“I found that out by seeing a figure in her room right when the disturbances were happening. It was glowing. It looked like a ghost, the ghost of a man,” said Agent Dunham.
Mary rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, it was the woman's husband?”
“That's what she told us,” Agent Dunham replied.
“But it actually wasn't,” said Peter. “Not really.”
“It wasn't? What do you mean?” Ashley Stuart asked, eyes widening.
“Do you know what I mean when I say there are alternate universes?” Peter said.
“Here we go again,” Mary said under her breath, and purposefully let her mind wander while this same conversation was had again.
The long and short of it was that Ashley had heard of them and watched a few TV shows that used the idea. “What does that have to do with the lady and her husband's ghost?”
“It wasn't her husband's ghost,” Dr. Bishop said, taking up the story. “It was him, the man himself, quite alive in the other world. The fabric of the two universes was starting to weaken there in that spot.”
“We believe that in the other world, it was the alternate version of the woman who died, leaving her husband missing her terribly,” Agent Dunham added. “The combined force of their mutual longing for each other made that weak spot open up and cause all the trouble that had been going on there.”
Mary was completely flabbergasted. She hardly knew where to begin in letting them know just how pathetic and sappy that story was, but Marshall nudged her sharply before she could start. He gestured to Ashley.
Mary's witness was crying - not a new sight for her, but there was anger and something like panic there. “No. No, that's not possible,” she sobbed. “You guys are crazy. Just because I miss Janice so much and I finally get to see her again-”
“Wait, what?” Mary said. She blinked.
Agent Dunham leaned forward in her seat, closer to Ashley. “I know this is hard to accept, but what you're seeing isn't your sister.”
“I don't believe you! You can just get out now!” Ashley shouted, standing. “I'm not losing her again!”
Agent Dunham stood, looking uncomfortable and worried. “We'll go, Ms. Stuart. Let me suggest something, though - if you do see someone again, and I'm guessing you will, ask her about yourself. I'm betting she'll say it was you who got caught up in whatever led to you moving here. On her side, it probably was, which means she believes she's the one seeing your ghost.”
Ashley didn't say anything, just walked them to the door. She looked at Mary and Marshall angrily before they left. “Why the hell did you bring these crazy FBI people here? How could they possibly help anyone?”
“Look, Ashley, I'm sorry. You probably don't want to hear that I had my doubts, but you can be sure it won't happen again,” Mary said, and closed the door behind them. She turned toward the Fringe team. “Well. You guys certainly cracked this case! I don't know what we'd do without you. Oh, wait, I know: maybe I wouldn't lose my witness's trust in my ability to do my job for her.” They didn't seem to be moving, so she brushed past them and went toward the exit. “Coming, Marshall?”
“I'd like to hear what you hoped to accomplish,” Marshall said, not moving either. He put his hands on his hips.
“Believe it or not, we might have done what we needed to do,” said Peter. “If she takes Olivia's advice, she'll realize that it isn't her sister she's been seeing, and the weak spot will close.”
“We don't know for certain that this situation is quite the same as the one you and Olivia stopped in Brooklyn,” Dr. Bishop pointed out, “but I would have to agree it seems likely.”
“Likely? I guess to you guys it might,” Mary said. “It's likely that, what, the power of love is what's weakening the universes, and if she gives up, it will stop and everything will be peachy?”
“Basically,” said Peter, with a self-deprecating grin. Then he shook his head. “I know it sounds insane.”
“You're damn right it does,” said Mary. “I'm about ready to call in sane from work and drop this whole thing.”
“How can love physically affect the boundaries between universes?” Marshall asked, frowning.
“It's an odd concept, to be sure,” said Dr. Bishop, and launched into an explanation involving physics and math that Mary had no time for. She turned to go again - and then suddenly the building began to shake.
“It's worse this time,” Mary noted after a moment, reaching her hand to the wall.
Agent Dunham steadied herself and glanced toward Ashley's shut door. “Glimmering. It's definitely her.”
Mary decided she didn't even want to ask about that. “So what are we going to do about it?”
Peter Bishop's cell phone started to ring, adding to the clamor. He answered it and then handed it to his father. “What is it? Oh, yes, Astrid. We can see it. We're right at the scene.” Dr. Bishop continued talking, but Mary could hardly hear and was sure she wouldn't have understood, in any case.
“Let's wait a moment.” Dunham answered Mary's question. “If Ashley really wants to know, if we made her think about it enough, she'll ask, like I suggested.”
“And if not?” Marshall asked.
“We have another option, but it isn't a good one,” Dunham said grimly.
“It's set up and ready to go if we have to, though,” Peter added. “I'll go ask Walter how much time we have until we know it's necessary.” He went to join his father, who was heading toward some of the instruments they had set up earlier.
“If it does come down to the second option, we'll have to evacuate the building,” Dunham said.
“That won't be easy, with how hard the ground's shaking,” Marshall said. “But I'm sure you've thought of that.”
“Yeah. That's just one of many reasons I hope we don't have to use it,” was her response.
The building gave an especially violent lurch, almost knocking the three federal agents off their feet. Dr. Bishop came back into view, dusting himself off, with Peter right behind him. “After looking at my equipment and talking with Astrid, I estimate we have at most three minutes before the damage will become too catastrophic to repair itself without the use of-”
“Okay, three minutes,” Peter interrupted. “We got it.”
Obviously, this thing was serious business, if no one even wanted to mention it by name, Mary thought. All the many, many things she had no clue about in this case were starting to drive her crazy. But at least she'd be in good company if that happened, she reflected, with a wince. It gave her only a small amount of comfort to note that Marshall was at least not entirely convinced. He still appeared far too accepting of all this crap for her tastes.
In the meantime, as they waited for something impossible to happen to bring an end to some of the other impossible things that had been happening, Mary hoped less than three minutes wouldn't bring the building down on them. As the thought passed through her mind, the building rocked again. She heard several crashes from various rooms, and a few cries of pain or fear. “We should evacuate this place, now!”
“Except that, as I've mentioned, it's safer to stay under cover and not try to go anywhere during an earthquake,” Marshall countered. “But I do agree that Ashley doesn't seem to be making a decision that stops this.”
“You don't understand,” Dunham cut in urgently. “If Ashley doesn't realize that it's not her sister and we don't evacuate the building, the other option means that everyone here will be beyond our help.”
Mary's eyes widened. The woman was clearly deadly serious.
“Two minutes,” Dr. Bishop called out nervously.
“Okay, that's it,” Mary said. She walked over to Ashley's door and pounded on it. “Ashley, it's Mary! Open up!”
“Go away, Mary!” was the shouted reply.
“I will not go away when this entire building's about to come down!” Mary shouted back. “Open the door! I'm getting you out of here.”
“That won't fix the weak spot,” Dr. Bishop said. “As long as she and her sister in the alternate universe are-”
“Fine, whatever,” Mary snapped. “I still need to get in there.”
“Ashley, if you don't open the door, we're going to have to break it down!” Marshall yelled. Mary gave him an approving look.
They waited a moment, and then the sound of the deadbolt being turned was audible over the continuing rumbling. The door opened to Ashley's suspicious face. “What do you want? Janice is here, and I'm going to keep talking to her.”
“Ashley?” a rather faint voice came from inside the room. “What are you doing? Are you okay?”
Mary put her hand on the door to keep Ashley from closing it. “You're saying your dead sister is there in the room with you?”
“It's her,” Ashley insisted. “It really is.”
Agent Dunham and the Bishops came up behind Mary, but Mary did her best to ignore them. Still, she thought she might as well get the impossible part over with to start. “Okay, say there is actually someone there. Did you ask her about yourself, like Agent Dunham said?”
Ashley frowned. “Yeah. But she's just confused. I can understand that, with the trauma of... what happened to her.”
Mary sighed. “Whatever. Ashley, do you not see what is happening here? Haven't you noticed that it's getting worse? It's my job to protect you, and this situation is just about as dangerous as it gets.”
Her witness turned back toward her living room, which was still out of everyone else's line of sight. “Janice? Did you hear any of that?”
Mary thought she heard a female voice reply in the negative, although for all she knew, Ashley was doing it herself somehow.
“It's getting dangerous here. Everything's shaking,” Ashley called back. “My - my friend is telling me I should leave, but I don't want to let you go!”
“Less than a minute,” Dr. Bishop said. “Peter, Olivia, we have to get everyone out of here.”
“Oh no, you too?” the strange voice was saying. “Wait, how is that possible? They can't put you under quarantine, you're dead! Aren't you safe from that now?”
Ashley stilled. She turned back around to the agents waiting at her door, a terrible look on her face, and then turned away again. “No, Janice. I'm not dead. What do you mean, quarantine?”
Mary spoke again. “Ashley. I don't know what's going on anymore than you do, but this has to stop. It's not safe for you or anyone here. You can't cling to the past.”
“That's what your being here is all about,” Marshall added. “A brand new life.”
There was some sort of response from inside, something more about this “quarantine”, Mary thought, but Ashley shook her head and put a hand to her mouth. Then she took a deep breath and spoke again, still facing the inside of her apartment. “Janice. I'm sorry, but you... you can't be my sister. I'm not yours. I'm not dead. I don't know what you're talking about.” She swallowed, wiping tears from her face. “Goodbye.”
More suddenly than Mary would have thought possible, the shaking stopped. The electricity now seemed back to normal as well. She looked at Marshall, and then at the Fringe team. Before she could comment, though, Ashley started to close her door. “Ashley, wait!” She put her hand on it again, meeting the young woman's tear-stained gaze. “Look, you won't hear me saying this kind of thing very often, but it's a brave thing you're doing. And you know, just surviving is sticking it to the bastards who killed your sister. Your real sister, I mean.” She almost rolled her eyes at the necessity of that addition.
Ashley nodded. “I know that. I just thought... I thought it was a miracle, I guess.”
“Well, even though it turned out differently than you'd imagined, it was still a chance most of us never get to have,” Dunham said quietly, with a faint smile.
“Yeah,” Ashley said. She sniffed. “Okay. Well, um, thanks. Sorry for... throwing you guys out of my house.”
Dunham's smile grew. “We've all had worse, believe me. Good luck in your new life, Ms. Stuart.”
Peter nodded. “And that is a chance not everyone gets either.”
Mary sighed and elbowed Marshall. “Jesus, it's like you're contagious.”
“Are you ill, Inspector?” Dr. Bishop asked, brow furrowing.
“Only if you view hope as a sickness,” Marshall said, glancing at Mary through narrowed eyes before turning back to Ashley. “In any case, call us whenever you need us, Ashley.”
“Good night,” she said. “Thank you.”
The door closed, and there was a pause before they all started to move toward the exit. Mary stopped with a moan. “Oh, God. Stan better not expect a report on this.”
“He probably will,” Marshall noted. “And it's not like you'll be writing it, anyway.”
“But I do at least have to put my name on it,” Mary said. “I hope no one but Stan ever sees it.”
“Speaking of reports,” Dunham offered, “don't worry about what I say in mine. I'm sure between your boss and ours, we can come to an agreement about what kinds of details can be left out for the safety of Ms. Stuart and your continuing cover.”
“Good,” Mary said. They made it outside, and she crossed her arms. “Seriously, though, you guys do this kind of thing every day?”
“Not every day,” Peter said. He was carrying some of the equipment that he and his father had set up.
“Sometimes we have to wait a few days,” Dr. Bishop added, “until there's something interesting enough for us.”
Peter laughed. “Interesting is one word for it.” He nodded toward his father and took out his phone. “You want to let Astrid know everything's okay? She's probably worried. Wouldn't want her thinking we had to... use the other option.”
“Oh yes,” Dr. Bishop agreed. He set down the machine he was carrying, then dialed and held the phone up to his ear. “Astrid? Yes, everyone is all right. I believe we can safely say the crisis is averted.” He continued to talk for a few more moments, then hung up with some urgency. “Peter, Astrid says she's going to go grocery shopping and perhaps bake something. We must get back to the lab as soon as possible.”
“Sounds like it,” Dunham said, amused. “I'll update Broyles before we head out.”
Marshall spoke up. “If you have the time, Inspector Shannon and I would love to take you all out for dinner before your flight. There are some excellent restaurants in the area.” He seemed to be studiously ignoring his partner's unenthusiastic response to the invitation.
“You may not know what you're getting yourselves into, taking my father out to a restaurant,” Peter replied. Then he turned to Agent Dunham. “Do we have time, Olivia?”
She took out her phone. “Let me see what Broyles has to say. I don't have any pressing reason for us to get back - unless Walter can't wait for whatever Astrid is making.”
“I imagine it will keep,” said Dr. Bishop.
“See, I told you, he'll never turn down food,” said Peter. “The more immediate, the better.”
Agent Dunham made her phone call, and returned with the news: Agent Broyles wanted them back as soon as possible. “I guess we'll have to take a rain check.”
“Too bad,” Mary said unconvincingly. At Marshall's glare, she relented a bit. “If you do ever find yourselves in Albuquerque again, fine, you can look us up. But in terms of your job? I kind of hope you don't need to come here again.”
“I know what you mean,” Peter said. “I can't exactly say it's all been a pleasure.”
Mary nodded. “Yeah.”
“But thanks for your help,” Marshall said. “I'd really like to know the details of what happened, but it in the absence of that possibility, we do appreciate your coming.”
“Thanks for calling us in,” Agent Dunham said. “And you can count on our discretion about anything we learned here today.”
“Same,” said Mary. She was, in fact, sure that she would be doing her best to forget anything she had 'learned' during this completely stark-raving insane day.
“Well, okay,” Dunham said, after a moment. “Goodbye, Inspectors.”
“Safe trip,” Mary said.
“Good luck to you all,” Marshall added. “It seems like you might especially need it, in your specific line of work within the Bureau.”
Peter and Dunham thanked him, and Dr. Bishop wished them farewell, too. As they headed toward the team's rental, Mary could hear the scientist ask his son if they could get a milkshake at a drive-through on the way to the airport. His answer was cut off by them entering the car, but the younger man's tone was much more patient than Mary could imagine responding to such a request from a grown man.
She turned to her partner as the Fringe team drove off. “Marshall. Did that actually happen?”
“As opposed to us both sharing a complicated hallucination about the boundaries between universes collapsing due to your witness' inability to move on after losing her sister? Would you prefer that?”
She shook her head. “I guess not, but that's only because I don't think I want to be sharing anything your mind dreams up.”
He rolled his eyes. “Hmph. Good point. The feeling's mutual.” He dodged her fist in response. “But in all seriousness, doesn't it intrigue you even a little to imagine that there is much out there we can't possibly understand?”
She pondered this for a bit as they started toward their own vehicle. “So basically, you're saying 'the truth is out there' and you like that?”
He giggled. “That is surprisingly well-put, Inspector Mary 'I claim I'm not a nerd but that's two X-Files references in one day' Shannon.”
Mary punched him, this time successfully. “Shut it, Marshall. You bring that up again, there won't be a new identity good enough to keep me from tracking you down and making your death very painful..”
“Ah, Mary, you just keep unfolding like a flower,” was his response. “And yes, that was an X-Files reference of my own.” He dashed into the driver's seat and slammed the door before she could reach him.
End
Ratings, etc., same as in part one.
They arrived a few minutes after 3:00, the Fringe team close behind them. “This is it,” said Marshall rather unnecessarily. “The... events haven't been starting until after 5:00, but if you need to set up equipment, now would be an opportune time.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Dr. Bishop. “Peter, if you would assist me?”
“Sure,” Peter said.
“Where, specifically, in the structure of the building are the events most localized?” Dr. Bishop asked, as they opened the trunk of their car.
Mary and Marshall hesitated. “Neither of us has more than the one time experiencing this in person,” Marshall said finally, “but if I had to guess, I would say the first floor.”
“Very well, we'll start there. My machines are sensitive enough to pick up readings even if that does not turn out to be correct, in any case,” said Dr. Bishop. Agent Dunham followed as they headed in, presumably to help with setup or with answering questions tenants might have - although Mary wondered just what kind of answer the team members would be able to give.
“Is there anything we can do?” Marshall offered.
Dunham stopped. “Uh, if you could tell me where the witness you mentioned lives, and introduce me to him, I'd like to speak with him, if he's home.”
Mary did a mental double-take at the use of that term for George Van Allen, but quickly figured out what she meant. “Yeah, sure. I get the feeling he works from home, so he'll probably be there. He'll probably be extra thrilled to see the FBI is involved.”
“Maybe we can all reinforce his faith in the government to solve the people's problems,” Marshall agreed.
Dunham smiled. “Let's hope so.” As they went inside, she informed Peter what they were doing. “We'll catch up with you after.”
He smiled at her as he acknowledged her words in a way that Mary couldn't help but notice. Now she had even more to speculate about in regards to the members of this team, but she decided to file that away for another time.
George was indeed home and he did indeed seem pleased to have the interest of yet another federal agency. Dunham paid close attention to his story, asked a few clarifying questions, and thanked him for his time. Before they left, she had one more question. “Oh, by the way, Mr. Van Allen, how long have you lived here?”
“Uh, just about... yeah, five years now.” He seemed to be waiting for some explanation for the question, but hearing none, he added, “Nothing like this ever happened until just this week.”
“All right, well, thank you again,” said Dunham. “We'll do our best to get this figured out.”
“I hope so,” said George. “And let me know if I can be of any more help.”
“I'll be sure to do that,” she said.
When they had left, Mary asked, “So did you really get anything helpful out of that?”
“Sort of,” said Dunham. “Did you get any other witness statements?”
Mary traded a look with Marshall. “Not exactly. We do have a... friend who lives here, but she basically seemed to corroborate what Van Allen said.”
Dunham paused and gave them a speculative look. “And this friend of yours, does she have anything to do with why you as U.S. Marshals might be interested in this case to begin with?”
“I'm not sure what you mean,” Mary said casually.
Dunham nodded. “I see. Would it be all right if I spoke to her, as well?”
Marshall caught Mary's eye again. He spoke carefully. “We do want to help...”
“Of course I'd like you two to be present,” Dunham put in, as he hesitated. “You could... guide my questions, if you want.”
Mary sighed. “All right, fine. Ashley Stuart is just down the hallway, but she's probably at work. She'll be-” She caught herself, not wanting to sound too sure. “I believe she'll be back in an hour or two.”
“Okay,” said Dunham. There was indeed no response when Mary knocked on her door, so they headed back to where the two Bishops were.
The setup appeared to be over. Dr. Bishop was pacing around and talking on a cell phone to someone, and seemed rather agitated. “What do you mean? That won't work at all!”
“Is everything all right, Peter?” Dunham asked, gesturing to his father.
“Oh, fine. I think Walter just wants to be here and at the lab at the same time,” Peter explained. “But Astrid's used to his micromanaging. She can take it. What did you find out?”
“Well, George Van Allen's story is interesting enough,” she replied. “But I don't think he's our guy, if there is a guy.”
Peter nodded. “Hopefully we'll find out this evening, if everything happens again.”
“'A guy'?” Mary said quickly. “You think a person is causing this?”
“It's possible,” Peter said. “Why, what did you think?”
Marshall shrugged. “We hadn't got farther than mentioning - and disregarding, in my partner's case - the possibility of a poltergeist, to be honest.”
“Nonsense, there is no such thing,” Dr. Bishop said, rejoining the group.
“You're sure?” Marshall asked, sounding honestly curious.
“I've never encountered a case with a so-called haunting that did not end up having a scientific explanation,” was Dr. Bishop's answer.
Mary, who could still barely believe she was experiencing anything that resulted in her being present during this conversation, shook her head, doubt obvious in her voice as she spoke. “Well, you guys are the experts, I guess. Anyway, we still have over an hour until five. Anything else we should do?”
“And your friend should be back before then, right?” Dunham asked.
“What friend?” Dr. Bishop wondered.
“The Inspectors know someone who lives here, and I thought we should probably get her statement, but she's at work right now,” Dunham said.
“You both happen to be acquainted with her, and she lives at this building?” Dr. Bishop said.
Peter got the same sort of calculating look that Dunham had earlier. “Ah. I'm guessing you guys aren't the kind of marshals who deliver warrants.”
“What do you-? Ohh,” said his father. “You mean-”
“Now that we've got that out of the way, and you understand neither Marshall nor I are confirming or denying anything you're saying,” Mary cut in, “our friend Ashley Stuart is - probably - going to get back at around 4:45.”
It was Dr. Bishop's turn to look as though he was carefully considering something. “Oh my. If this Ashley Stuart is...” He looked up at Mary and Marshall, trailing off, then seemed to make up his mind. He went over to Agent Dunham and whispered something in her ear. It took a minute, but Dunham appeared to be listening closely. Peter, on the other hand, looked impatient, which Mary certainly understood.
When he finished, Dunham turned back to the marshals. “Inspectors, may I ask you a purely theoretical question? I'm pretty sure I know the answers, but I'd like to get your expert opinions.”
“Go ahead,” said Mary guardedly.
“All right. What are the reasons someone might choose to enter Witness Protection?”
“Theoretically,” Dr. Bishop added.
“Well, federally protected witnesses are either witnesses of a crime or criminals themselves who agree to testify against their former colleagues or conspirators,” Marshall replied smoothly. “In either category, the witness agrees to testify in exchange for being kept safe from potential retribution.”
“But they have to give up their former lives and start completely new ones, right?” Peter said, obviously just wanting their confirmation. “They might have lived somewhere entirely across the country before they enter the program?”
“That's the idea,” Mary said. “But why is this important? It sounds like you think Ashley might have something to do with this, and that's crazy. Theoretically.”
“No one thinks your friend is doing anything malicious to cause this,” said Dunham, after a moment. “Or that anyone is, for that matter.”
“It's not being done on purpose,” said Dr. Bishop, “whether or not it is your friend who is the cause.”
“Oh, thanks, that clears everything right up,” Mary said, crossing her arms.
“What Inspector Shannon means to say,” Marshall cut in, “is that it seems like we're going to need more information in order to do our jobs and help you do yours.”
“More or less,” Mary agreed.
“So is that possible?” Marshall asked.
There was another pause. Peter was the first to break the silence. “I know it's not my call, but given what we already... may know about their jobs, I'd say they can handle keeping things quiet.”
Agent Dunham nodded. “I was thinking along the same lines. I'll call Broyles.” She stepped away and put her phone to her ear.
“I told you this would be a blast,” Mary grumbled to Marshall, keeping her voice down.
“It's not as bad as it could be,” Marshall said, also in a low tone. “At least we're not attempting to work with the Men In Black, or anything.”
Mary rolled her eyes. “Oh, hell no. If you're trying to tell me - if anyone tries to tell me that aliens are involved, I give up. I mean it, I am out.”
Dunham came back at that moment. “Broyles agreed that you two aren't likely to spread rumors or cause a panic with this information.”
Mary cocked her head. “No, although as bizarre is this has been, I'd probably keep it to myself anyway.”
“Welcome to our everyday life,” Peter remarked.
Dunham glanced at him and smiled. “Good. Walter, would you like to explain?”
“But without going overboard on the technical details, please?” said Peter quickly.
“Of course not,” said Dr. Bishop. He turned to the marshals. “You've heard of multiple universes?”
“Yes,” said Marshall. “The theory that everything that exists is made up of multiple possible universes, including the one in our history and which we currently experience. The alternate universes may be very like ours but not quite the same. It's even been theorized that every choice we make creates another alternate in which the other choice is the one that happened.”
“Exactly.” Dr. Bishop seemed pleased. “Well-put. I believe that was Hugh Everett who proposed the Many-Worlds theory, which you just described. Well, the key here is this: we know there is an alternate universe. Unfortunately, for reasons which I won't go into, the universes are collapsing in on each other, weakening in certain spots, and we know it will get worse and worse.”
At this point, Mary interrupted, unable to hold back anymore. “Seriously? Multiple universes? You expect us to believe this crap? I mean, it's an interesting plot for a movie, if you like that kind of thing-”
“I assure you,” snapped Dr. Bishop in a much sharper tone than she would have imagined to be able to come out of the man, “it is scientific fact. If you cannot accept this, then I suppose we'll have to deal with this on our own. We've done it before.”
“What the hell? So now you're going to push us out of our own case if we don't believe in your insane theory?”
“Whoa, whoa, let's calm down a moment,” said Peter. “Look, Inspector, I know how crazy this all sounds. I still have trouble believing some of the stuff we see. But I promise this is real.”
“It is,” said Agent Dunham, looking grave. “And we don't want to force you out of this case. I would really appreciate your knowledge of the people involved, and none of us wants to get in the way of any work the U.S. Marshals might be doing here.”
Mary looked at her partner. “Marshall, don't tell me you believe this bull.”
“I can't say that I do, exactly,” Marshall admitted. “But you and I couldn't come up with any explanation for what we've seen or heard about, and Dr. Bishop at least has one. I'm thinking I'll reserve judgment for the time being.”
She sighed, then turned back to Agent Dunham. “And if I called your boss, he'd say the same thing? Really?”
“Yeah. He's seen this kind of thing, too,” the other woman confirmed. “We believe this could be a weak spot between the universes.”
“Yes, the seismic activity, the strange sounds, voices, and figures, the electrical disturbances, it all seems to fit,” said Dr. Bishop. “Although it is worrying that there is one here. I had hoped there was nothing so serious this far west - that's part of why it might be important whether or not your friend has moved across the country.”
“But we can't just go telling people those kinds of facts. That's the whole point of what we do!” Mary insisted.
“How about we decide it's our turn to call our boss,” suggested Marshall. He took out his phone. “All right?”
Mary remained unconvinced. Perhaps seeing this, Agent Dunham pointed out, “We can work with generalities as much as possible. I don't need to know about any specific criminals or even the crime, except possibly how it affected Ashley.”
Every face was turned toward Mary. She sighed again and threw up her hands. “Fine. Call Stan. Because this is officially Bizarro Day, he'll probably agree to this.”
“While your partner makes his call, may I ask you one more question, Inspector?” Dr. Bishop said.
“What is it?” Mary said, imagining what other details were about to be wormed out of her.
His voice was tinged with fascination and glee. “Did I hear correctly that your partner's first name is Marshall, and he is a United States Marshal, making him Marshal Marshall?”
Mary cracked her first genuine smile in what seemed like quite a long time.
~~~~~~
Stan did agree, after having the situation explained (as much as that was possible). It was a good thing, too, Mary guessed, since Ashley Stuart had come home just minutes after they'd finally settled on what they could tell each other. Not that she was going to let anyone know that she had any positive feelings about this, of course. It was all still beyond ridiculous, which she had said more than once already.
Mary was able to catch Ashley as she was heading in and tell her a little about the Fringe team before the younger woman met them. Ashley didn't seem overly pleased about this development, but when Mary and Marshall pointed out that they might be able to help resolve the problems at the building without making Ashley move, she reluctantly agreed to talk to them.
So, once again she and Marshall were inside Ashley Stuart's apartment, although this time it was rather crowded with three other people inside as well. Once again, Ashley could hardly have looked less excited about this attention. “What do you guys want to know?” she said, tapping her fingers against the armrest of her chair.
“If you could tell us what you've seen these past few days, with the strange happenings in this building, that would be great,” Agent Dunham said.
“Fine,” she said. “Well, uh, I've been just finishing my dinner when the rumbling and flashing lights start usually. It's weird, of course, but it hasn't hurt anything, as far as I know.”
Dunham waited for more, but when it didn't seem forthcoming, she prompted, “And is that all you've seen? Some of your neighbors talked about strange figures or voices.”
The young woman started, in a way that reminded Mary of times when Brandi was trying (and failing) to hide her guilt. “Uh, really? No, I haven't - I haven't had anything like that happen.”
Clearly, none of the Fringe team believed that, either. Peter spoke up. “So I hear you're new to the area, Ms. Stuart. Has it been hard, adjusting here? I'm sure you miss your friends and family.”
Ashley shot Mary a scared look.
“It's all right, Ashley. I told you, we checked these guys out. You're safe to tell them about your family, although I'm strongly recommending you keep out any names of people or places.”
“I don't have much family,” Ashley said. “But my sister, I do miss her.” She bit her lip. “We used to do almost everything together.”
“How old is she?” Dunham asked gently.
“She's... she was a year younger than me. She followed me around all the time, from when we were kids,” Ashley said.
Mary, who knew all this already, tried not to let her impatience show. She knew she actually would be sad if her sister had gotten shot in a wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time accidental encounter with a drug lord, but unlike with Ashley's situation, Mary couldn't help being grateful that Brandi had moved out and wasn't currently insinuating herself into everything Mary did.
“You said she 'was' a year younger? What happened to her?” Dunham asked. “I mean, you don't have to tell me exactly.”
“Why do I have to tell you at all?” Ashley burst out suddenly, wiping at her eyes. “What does this have to do with my building and the weird stuff here?”
“I think you might have already guessed that, just a little bit,” Peter said, meeting her eyes. “Did your sister die in whatever caused you to have to move here?” Ashley looked down, and he seemed to take that as confirmation. “I'm sorry.”
“It's hard to lose someone you're close to,” said Agent Dunham. “I bet you feel like you'd do anything to see her again, right?”
Ashley nodded, still not looking up.
“Ashley, I'm going to tell you a quick story about another case Peter, Dr. Bishop, and I investigated,” said Agent Dunham. “At the end, I'm going to ask you if it sounds familiar, all right?”
“Oh, God, story time?” Mary groaned. Marshall looked reproving, and Agent Dunham just looked mildly annoyed. Mary waved a hand. “Fine, fine, let's get this over with.”
Agent Dunham began telling Mary's witness about the Brooklyn case that had brought them to Marshall's attention. Mary was tempted to tune out, but then the FBI agent added in some details that definitely hadn't made it to the news. “We found out that these disturbances seemed to center around one apartment in particular. It belonged to a lady who had just been widowed after almost 45 years together. She missed her husband so much that she couldn't face life without him.”
Ashley shifted in her seat. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and then sighed. “Okay, so what happened when you found that out?”
“I found that out by seeing a figure in her room right when the disturbances were happening. It was glowing. It looked like a ghost, the ghost of a man,” said Agent Dunham.
Mary rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, it was the woman's husband?”
“That's what she told us,” Agent Dunham replied.
“But it actually wasn't,” said Peter. “Not really.”
“It wasn't? What do you mean?” Ashley Stuart asked, eyes widening.
“Do you know what I mean when I say there are alternate universes?” Peter said.
“Here we go again,” Mary said under her breath, and purposefully let her mind wander while this same conversation was had again.
The long and short of it was that Ashley had heard of them and watched a few TV shows that used the idea. “What does that have to do with the lady and her husband's ghost?”
“It wasn't her husband's ghost,” Dr. Bishop said, taking up the story. “It was him, the man himself, quite alive in the other world. The fabric of the two universes was starting to weaken there in that spot.”
“We believe that in the other world, it was the alternate version of the woman who died, leaving her husband missing her terribly,” Agent Dunham added. “The combined force of their mutual longing for each other made that weak spot open up and cause all the trouble that had been going on there.”
Mary was completely flabbergasted. She hardly knew where to begin in letting them know just how pathetic and sappy that story was, but Marshall nudged her sharply before she could start. He gestured to Ashley.
Mary's witness was crying - not a new sight for her, but there was anger and something like panic there. “No. No, that's not possible,” she sobbed. “You guys are crazy. Just because I miss Janice so much and I finally get to see her again-”
“Wait, what?” Mary said. She blinked.
Agent Dunham leaned forward in her seat, closer to Ashley. “I know this is hard to accept, but what you're seeing isn't your sister.”
“I don't believe you! You can just get out now!” Ashley shouted, standing. “I'm not losing her again!”
Agent Dunham stood, looking uncomfortable and worried. “We'll go, Ms. Stuart. Let me suggest something, though - if you do see someone again, and I'm guessing you will, ask her about yourself. I'm betting she'll say it was you who got caught up in whatever led to you moving here. On her side, it probably was, which means she believes she's the one seeing your ghost.”
Ashley didn't say anything, just walked them to the door. She looked at Mary and Marshall angrily before they left. “Why the hell did you bring these crazy FBI people here? How could they possibly help anyone?”
“Look, Ashley, I'm sorry. You probably don't want to hear that I had my doubts, but you can be sure it won't happen again,” Mary said, and closed the door behind them. She turned toward the Fringe team. “Well. You guys certainly cracked this case! I don't know what we'd do without you. Oh, wait, I know: maybe I wouldn't lose my witness's trust in my ability to do my job for her.” They didn't seem to be moving, so she brushed past them and went toward the exit. “Coming, Marshall?”
“I'd like to hear what you hoped to accomplish,” Marshall said, not moving either. He put his hands on his hips.
“Believe it or not, we might have done what we needed to do,” said Peter. “If she takes Olivia's advice, she'll realize that it isn't her sister she's been seeing, and the weak spot will close.”
“We don't know for certain that this situation is quite the same as the one you and Olivia stopped in Brooklyn,” Dr. Bishop pointed out, “but I would have to agree it seems likely.”
“Likely? I guess to you guys it might,” Mary said. “It's likely that, what, the power of love is what's weakening the universes, and if she gives up, it will stop and everything will be peachy?”
“Basically,” said Peter, with a self-deprecating grin. Then he shook his head. “I know it sounds insane.”
“You're damn right it does,” said Mary. “I'm about ready to call in sane from work and drop this whole thing.”
“How can love physically affect the boundaries between universes?” Marshall asked, frowning.
“It's an odd concept, to be sure,” said Dr. Bishop, and launched into an explanation involving physics and math that Mary had no time for. She turned to go again - and then suddenly the building began to shake.
“It's worse this time,” Mary noted after a moment, reaching her hand to the wall.
Agent Dunham steadied herself and glanced toward Ashley's shut door. “Glimmering. It's definitely her.”
Mary decided she didn't even want to ask about that. “So what are we going to do about it?”
Peter Bishop's cell phone started to ring, adding to the clamor. He answered it and then handed it to his father. “What is it? Oh, yes, Astrid. We can see it. We're right at the scene.” Dr. Bishop continued talking, but Mary could hardly hear and was sure she wouldn't have understood, in any case.
“Let's wait a moment.” Dunham answered Mary's question. “If Ashley really wants to know, if we made her think about it enough, she'll ask, like I suggested.”
“And if not?” Marshall asked.
“We have another option, but it isn't a good one,” Dunham said grimly.
“It's set up and ready to go if we have to, though,” Peter added. “I'll go ask Walter how much time we have until we know it's necessary.” He went to join his father, who was heading toward some of the instruments they had set up earlier.
“If it does come down to the second option, we'll have to evacuate the building,” Dunham said.
“That won't be easy, with how hard the ground's shaking,” Marshall said. “But I'm sure you've thought of that.”
“Yeah. That's just one of many reasons I hope we don't have to use it,” was her response.
The building gave an especially violent lurch, almost knocking the three federal agents off their feet. Dr. Bishop came back into view, dusting himself off, with Peter right behind him. “After looking at my equipment and talking with Astrid, I estimate we have at most three minutes before the damage will become too catastrophic to repair itself without the use of-”
“Okay, three minutes,” Peter interrupted. “We got it.”
Obviously, this thing was serious business, if no one even wanted to mention it by name, Mary thought. All the many, many things she had no clue about in this case were starting to drive her crazy. But at least she'd be in good company if that happened, she reflected, with a wince. It gave her only a small amount of comfort to note that Marshall was at least not entirely convinced. He still appeared far too accepting of all this crap for her tastes.
In the meantime, as they waited for something impossible to happen to bring an end to some of the other impossible things that had been happening, Mary hoped less than three minutes wouldn't bring the building down on them. As the thought passed through her mind, the building rocked again. She heard several crashes from various rooms, and a few cries of pain or fear. “We should evacuate this place, now!”
“Except that, as I've mentioned, it's safer to stay under cover and not try to go anywhere during an earthquake,” Marshall countered. “But I do agree that Ashley doesn't seem to be making a decision that stops this.”
“You don't understand,” Dunham cut in urgently. “If Ashley doesn't realize that it's not her sister and we don't evacuate the building, the other option means that everyone here will be beyond our help.”
Mary's eyes widened. The woman was clearly deadly serious.
“Two minutes,” Dr. Bishop called out nervously.
“Okay, that's it,” Mary said. She walked over to Ashley's door and pounded on it. “Ashley, it's Mary! Open up!”
“Go away, Mary!” was the shouted reply.
“I will not go away when this entire building's about to come down!” Mary shouted back. “Open the door! I'm getting you out of here.”
“That won't fix the weak spot,” Dr. Bishop said. “As long as she and her sister in the alternate universe are-”
“Fine, whatever,” Mary snapped. “I still need to get in there.”
“Ashley, if you don't open the door, we're going to have to break it down!” Marshall yelled. Mary gave him an approving look.
They waited a moment, and then the sound of the deadbolt being turned was audible over the continuing rumbling. The door opened to Ashley's suspicious face. “What do you want? Janice is here, and I'm going to keep talking to her.”
“Ashley?” a rather faint voice came from inside the room. “What are you doing? Are you okay?”
Mary put her hand on the door to keep Ashley from closing it. “You're saying your dead sister is there in the room with you?”
“It's her,” Ashley insisted. “It really is.”
Agent Dunham and the Bishops came up behind Mary, but Mary did her best to ignore them. Still, she thought she might as well get the impossible part over with to start. “Okay, say there is actually someone there. Did you ask her about yourself, like Agent Dunham said?”
Ashley frowned. “Yeah. But she's just confused. I can understand that, with the trauma of... what happened to her.”
Mary sighed. “Whatever. Ashley, do you not see what is happening here? Haven't you noticed that it's getting worse? It's my job to protect you, and this situation is just about as dangerous as it gets.”
Her witness turned back toward her living room, which was still out of everyone else's line of sight. “Janice? Did you hear any of that?”
Mary thought she heard a female voice reply in the negative, although for all she knew, Ashley was doing it herself somehow.
“It's getting dangerous here. Everything's shaking,” Ashley called back. “My - my friend is telling me I should leave, but I don't want to let you go!”
“Less than a minute,” Dr. Bishop said. “Peter, Olivia, we have to get everyone out of here.”
“Oh no, you too?” the strange voice was saying. “Wait, how is that possible? They can't put you under quarantine, you're dead! Aren't you safe from that now?”
Ashley stilled. She turned back around to the agents waiting at her door, a terrible look on her face, and then turned away again. “No, Janice. I'm not dead. What do you mean, quarantine?”
Mary spoke again. “Ashley. I don't know what's going on anymore than you do, but this has to stop. It's not safe for you or anyone here. You can't cling to the past.”
“That's what your being here is all about,” Marshall added. “A brand new life.”
There was some sort of response from inside, something more about this “quarantine”, Mary thought, but Ashley shook her head and put a hand to her mouth. Then she took a deep breath and spoke again, still facing the inside of her apartment. “Janice. I'm sorry, but you... you can't be my sister. I'm not yours. I'm not dead. I don't know what you're talking about.” She swallowed, wiping tears from her face. “Goodbye.”
More suddenly than Mary would have thought possible, the shaking stopped. The electricity now seemed back to normal as well. She looked at Marshall, and then at the Fringe team. Before she could comment, though, Ashley started to close her door. “Ashley, wait!” She put her hand on it again, meeting the young woman's tear-stained gaze. “Look, you won't hear me saying this kind of thing very often, but it's a brave thing you're doing. And you know, just surviving is sticking it to the bastards who killed your sister. Your real sister, I mean.” She almost rolled her eyes at the necessity of that addition.
Ashley nodded. “I know that. I just thought... I thought it was a miracle, I guess.”
“Well, even though it turned out differently than you'd imagined, it was still a chance most of us never get to have,” Dunham said quietly, with a faint smile.
“Yeah,” Ashley said. She sniffed. “Okay. Well, um, thanks. Sorry for... throwing you guys out of my house.”
Dunham's smile grew. “We've all had worse, believe me. Good luck in your new life, Ms. Stuart.”
Peter nodded. “And that is a chance not everyone gets either.”
Mary sighed and elbowed Marshall. “Jesus, it's like you're contagious.”
“Are you ill, Inspector?” Dr. Bishop asked, brow furrowing.
“Only if you view hope as a sickness,” Marshall said, glancing at Mary through narrowed eyes before turning back to Ashley. “In any case, call us whenever you need us, Ashley.”
“Good night,” she said. “Thank you.”
The door closed, and there was a pause before they all started to move toward the exit. Mary stopped with a moan. “Oh, God. Stan better not expect a report on this.”
“He probably will,” Marshall noted. “And it's not like you'll be writing it, anyway.”
“But I do at least have to put my name on it,” Mary said. “I hope no one but Stan ever sees it.”
“Speaking of reports,” Dunham offered, “don't worry about what I say in mine. I'm sure between your boss and ours, we can come to an agreement about what kinds of details can be left out for the safety of Ms. Stuart and your continuing cover.”
“Good,” Mary said. They made it outside, and she crossed her arms. “Seriously, though, you guys do this kind of thing every day?”
“Not every day,” Peter said. He was carrying some of the equipment that he and his father had set up.
“Sometimes we have to wait a few days,” Dr. Bishop added, “until there's something interesting enough for us.”
Peter laughed. “Interesting is one word for it.” He nodded toward his father and took out his phone. “You want to let Astrid know everything's okay? She's probably worried. Wouldn't want her thinking we had to... use the other option.”
“Oh yes,” Dr. Bishop agreed. He set down the machine he was carrying, then dialed and held the phone up to his ear. “Astrid? Yes, everyone is all right. I believe we can safely say the crisis is averted.” He continued to talk for a few more moments, then hung up with some urgency. “Peter, Astrid says she's going to go grocery shopping and perhaps bake something. We must get back to the lab as soon as possible.”
“Sounds like it,” Dunham said, amused. “I'll update Broyles before we head out.”
Marshall spoke up. “If you have the time, Inspector Shannon and I would love to take you all out for dinner before your flight. There are some excellent restaurants in the area.” He seemed to be studiously ignoring his partner's unenthusiastic response to the invitation.
“You may not know what you're getting yourselves into, taking my father out to a restaurant,” Peter replied. Then he turned to Agent Dunham. “Do we have time, Olivia?”
She took out her phone. “Let me see what Broyles has to say. I don't have any pressing reason for us to get back - unless Walter can't wait for whatever Astrid is making.”
“I imagine it will keep,” said Dr. Bishop.
“See, I told you, he'll never turn down food,” said Peter. “The more immediate, the better.”
Agent Dunham made her phone call, and returned with the news: Agent Broyles wanted them back as soon as possible. “I guess we'll have to take a rain check.”
“Too bad,” Mary said unconvincingly. At Marshall's glare, she relented a bit. “If you do ever find yourselves in Albuquerque again, fine, you can look us up. But in terms of your job? I kind of hope you don't need to come here again.”
“I know what you mean,” Peter said. “I can't exactly say it's all been a pleasure.”
Mary nodded. “Yeah.”
“But thanks for your help,” Marshall said. “I'd really like to know the details of what happened, but it in the absence of that possibility, we do appreciate your coming.”
“Thanks for calling us in,” Agent Dunham said. “And you can count on our discretion about anything we learned here today.”
“Same,” said Mary. She was, in fact, sure that she would be doing her best to forget anything she had 'learned' during this completely stark-raving insane day.
“Well, okay,” Dunham said, after a moment. “Goodbye, Inspectors.”
“Safe trip,” Mary said.
“Good luck to you all,” Marshall added. “It seems like you might especially need it, in your specific line of work within the Bureau.”
Peter and Dunham thanked him, and Dr. Bishop wished them farewell, too. As they headed toward the team's rental, Mary could hear the scientist ask his son if they could get a milkshake at a drive-through on the way to the airport. His answer was cut off by them entering the car, but the younger man's tone was much more patient than Mary could imagine responding to such a request from a grown man.
She turned to her partner as the Fringe team drove off. “Marshall. Did that actually happen?”
“As opposed to us both sharing a complicated hallucination about the boundaries between universes collapsing due to your witness' inability to move on after losing her sister? Would you prefer that?”
She shook her head. “I guess not, but that's only because I don't think I want to be sharing anything your mind dreams up.”
He rolled his eyes. “Hmph. Good point. The feeling's mutual.” He dodged her fist in response. “But in all seriousness, doesn't it intrigue you even a little to imagine that there is much out there we can't possibly understand?”
She pondered this for a bit as they started toward their own vehicle. “So basically, you're saying 'the truth is out there' and you like that?”
He giggled. “That is surprisingly well-put, Inspector Mary 'I claim I'm not a nerd but that's two X-Files references in one day' Shannon.”
Mary punched him, this time successfully. “Shut it, Marshall. You bring that up again, there won't be a new identity good enough to keep me from tracking you down and making your death very painful..”
“Ah, Mary, you just keep unfolding like a flower,” was his response. “And yes, that was an X-Files reference of my own.” He dashed into the driver's seat and slammed the door before she could reach him.
End