Fic: The Fold
Title: The Fold
Fandom: Fringe
Rating: G
Character: Olivia
Pairing: None
A/N: A brief tag to "Concentrate and Ask Again"
---
fold it up and tear it at the crease.
there's not much left inside your chest,
but it's worth much more than what you see.
every burden has a version in somebody else.
~The Academy Is...
---
She refolds the paper and stares ahead, unseeing.
He still has feelings for her.
She wants to cast the other Olivia as the villain - paint the canvas of her life in broad strokes of black and white; good and evil. After all, the other Olivia wants to destroy an entire universe. That's textbook big bad, isn't it?
She pinches the paper between her nails, running them along the crease. Making it sharper.
He still has feelings for her.
But that's not what the other Olivia wants. She doesn't want to destroy a universe, she wants to save a universe. Olivia knows - she's been in the other Olivia's shoes (figuratively, literally) - it's not destruction she's after, it's salvation. Her universe was attacked, devastated. It was picked apart for over twenty years, tragedy by tragedy. The only way to make it end, to guarantee that her reality doesn't completely vanish, is to attack. She's not on the offensive, she's on the defensive and that makes all the difference. It turns everything upside down.
The other Olivia has a family that loves her, a boyfriend that supports her, peers that respect her, and friends that would do anything for her. She has Charlie. Charlie who wouldn't be partners with someone he didn't support one hundred percent - with someone he didn't believe in.
Olivia drops the note on the coffee table and pushes out of the chair. She crosses to her bedroom, the thick, solid sound of her sensible heels echoing on her unremarkable walls. The dress is draped across her bed, rhinestones glittering in the light from her bedside lamp. She'd smiled when she'd shed it, placed it down almost reverently - Peter's words echoing in her head. You look great in that dress.
She looked like someone else in that dress. Someone with soft red hair and a charming smile. Someone who is fighting to defend her world at great personal cost. Someone who fell in love along the way with the one man she shouldn't, couldn't possibly have.
An ingénue. A hero.
A protagonist.
Olivia runs her fingers along the dark fabric, the realization smothering. Her knuckles blanch as her grip tightens, creasing the silk beneath her fingers. She knows in that moment that everything is exactly as black and white as she'd hoped.
The story's just not hers.
Fandom: Fringe
Rating: G
Character: Olivia
Pairing: None
A/N: A brief tag to "Concentrate and Ask Again"
---
fold it up and tear it at the crease.
there's not much left inside your chest,
but it's worth much more than what you see.
every burden has a version in somebody else.
~The Academy Is...
---
She refolds the paper and stares ahead, unseeing.
He still has feelings for her.
She wants to cast the other Olivia as the villain - paint the canvas of her life in broad strokes of black and white; good and evil. After all, the other Olivia wants to destroy an entire universe. That's textbook big bad, isn't it?
She pinches the paper between her nails, running them along the crease. Making it sharper.
He still has feelings for her.
But that's not what the other Olivia wants. She doesn't want to destroy a universe, she wants to save a universe. Olivia knows - she's been in the other Olivia's shoes (figuratively, literally) - it's not destruction she's after, it's salvation. Her universe was attacked, devastated. It was picked apart for over twenty years, tragedy by tragedy. The only way to make it end, to guarantee that her reality doesn't completely vanish, is to attack. She's not on the offensive, she's on the defensive and that makes all the difference. It turns everything upside down.
The other Olivia has a family that loves her, a boyfriend that supports her, peers that respect her, and friends that would do anything for her. She has Charlie. Charlie who wouldn't be partners with someone he didn't support one hundred percent - with someone he didn't believe in.
Olivia drops the note on the coffee table and pushes out of the chair. She crosses to her bedroom, the thick, solid sound of her sensible heels echoing on her unremarkable walls. The dress is draped across her bed, rhinestones glittering in the light from her bedside lamp. She'd smiled when she'd shed it, placed it down almost reverently - Peter's words echoing in her head. You look great in that dress.
She looked like someone else in that dress. Someone with soft red hair and a charming smile. Someone who is fighting to defend her world at great personal cost. Someone who fell in love along the way with the one man she shouldn't, couldn't possibly have.
An ingénue. A hero.
A protagonist.
Olivia runs her fingers along the dark fabric, the realization smothering. Her knuckles blanch as her grip tightens, creasing the silk beneath her fingers. She knows in that moment that everything is exactly as black and white as she'd hoped.
The story's just not hers.