A/N: Other than reviews please, all I can say is if you don't feel at least slightly bummed or depressed from reading this story, then I know I suck as a writer. (It's purposely depressing). Yeah, I could've written something happier but once again, I had to bust my head to get a good idea for a new Fringe fic and this emo idea came up.

Disclaimer: J.J., I love ya baby, but that cliffhanger you placed in last night's episode, which wont be resolved for two months, is just cruel...just plain cruel man. It's still your fantastic work, though.

Even though the Spring flowers had just recently bloomed, the silence of the cemetery was just too eerie for Peter to bear. Even the drive seemed lifeless as there was barely a soul walking the street.

There were no birds chirping and the wind was still a bit chilly…it seemed like the typical scenario for a graveyard visit.

He arrived at the grave, more depressed by the fact that he had arrived there first.

Finally, he could see a car drive slowly pass the graves on the other side of the cemetery and his loneliness had partially subsided. He didn't know if it was going to be who he thought it was until they entered the cemetery.

Thank goodness…it was her.

Olivia appeared carrying a large plastic box of flowers that seemed, from a distance, a bit bulky. Peter hadn't crack as much as a smile for weeks. It was weird to see such a role in emotions reversed.

"You need help with that?" Peter asked as she got closer.

"It's not that heavy," she said. There was a sense of relief inside of Olivia when she noticed Peter cracking his first smile in a long time.

"Well, I brought THE tool for the occasion." Peter pulled out a hand shovel from his jacket.

In a moment, Olivia was on her knees digging the dirt infront of the marble stone with the hand shovel. Peter felt a bit of guilt and silliness over seeing Olivia getting her pants dirty as she began to dig. He knows he should be the one doing this, but Olivia insisted on doing it herself…seeing that she enjoyed gardening as one of her Springtime habits.

"Interesting choice of flowers," Peter remarked. He knew there was great significance in the selection of flowers in the plastic box. They were all Melliferous flowers, or simply honey flowers: Hellebore, Savory, Corn Poppies, Wolf's Bane, Fireweed, and Lavenders. "Were those your idea?"

"Actually, Astrid chose them." The hole of dirt was now ready for Olivia to plant the flowers in. "She's convinced that honey flowers were probably his favorite kind. Though she never did ask him. I suppose you never did either."

Olivia took a quick apologetic glance back at Peter, not wanting her last comment to sound a knife to his gut. She was only assuming the obvious.

"Nah...," Peter smiled to assure her that no feelings were hurt, though they both knew how clever Peter was at shielding his inner feelings from her. "And you would think he would've mentioned that to me if we had ever been to a butterfly garden or had a nice family leisure park stroll. But since we haven't, it's been nothing but stories of my childhood and scientific experiments. Besides, I'm sure everything he shared with Astrid, he probably dumped on me."

"You're probably right."

"So what is Astrid up to these days, anyway?"

"Well, believe or not, she's going back to school…three guesses as to what she's leaving the Bureau to study."

Olivia wanted to carefully arrange the flowers in such a matter as to not disturb the words on the grave but she still wanted them to be lovingly presentable. Peter was too busy watching her to think about the three guesses. "I give."

"Physical Science."

"You can't be serious."

"I am," Olivia assured him. "She actually admitted to me that being around Walter for that long made her realize her true calling was to be a scientist...just like him. How about that?"

Peter laughed to himself, another rare event he experienced in weeks. "Well that's what happens when you're left to hang out with one for that long."

The process was finally completed as Olivia patted the last bit of dirt. A flower garden was now beautifully arranged and naturally planted in the ground infront of the grave…and no words would be disrupted by the sight.

Walter Bishop's name forever glimmer through those beautiful, colorful flowers.

They seem to have walked away from the grave almost immediately as both of them acknowledge that Peter was not a man who enjoyed looking back on things…for any reason.

But the lifelessness of the cemetery did not cease. Even with Olivia walking by his side, his surroundings seemed shaded as if they were both walking through a post-apocalyptic world of absolute nothings and they were the only living two around.

"I'm going back to Iraq," Peter said abruptly.

"What? Now?" Olivia was rather surprised…and a bit uneased by the quick decision.

"I could go anytime, but it wouldn't matter if I went later. If I go now, maybe things will go back to the way they were sooner. I know it sounds stupid."

"No, I understand," said Olivia. "But…but is that really what you want?"

"I have no place to go."

"That…can't be true," Olivia said defensively. "I mean, you're still employed by the Department of Homeland Security, Peter. All of these problems you have with Big Eddie or whatever, we can get you out of it easily."

Peter sighed and said, "I appreciate it Liv, but I really don't really feel like being dependent right now, and if I ever did I don't want to be the first guys I want supporting me to be from the government."

Before Olivia could even find one single word to argue how silly Peter's decision to go back to such a dangerous country was, Peter added "my father's dead. Both of our jobs are done. You and I both have been reeling for this thing to end. And now we're free. So…"

"You're going then?"

"Even if Broyles gave me a desk job at the DHS, I would've spat it back in his face. No offense to the man, just to the lifestyle choice he was offering me."

Soon after, they were at a lost of words, both having silently acknowledge that here in the cold silence of the cemetery on this dreary day was when they would part ways. Neither of them had the inner strength to look back on all of the time they had spent together. Peter sensed in Olivia a slight bit of hope that the two of them would find reasons not to part…that this was merely a phase and that they could go back to the lives they lived when they were on the Special Assignment.

But Peter, who had always lived in reality, refused to believe this. Although he had always read Olivia like a book, he knew what she was trying to say deep down and he wanted to reject it despite the fact that his smallest desire was to keep that hope alive.

"Well, then…" Olivia said as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Goodbye Peter…and take care."

Peter's hand reached up to feel Olivia's and he made sure to not overstay his welcome. "You too, Liv." Slowly the hands parted from each other as Peter finally turned away and said "Goodbye."

They took their separate ways out of the cemetery, and while Olivia looked back…Peter did not. It broke her heart to know that Peter didn't even want to say a word to his father. Even though he went to the funeral a few weeks ago, he refused to act like a son in mourning and paid other people to make sure that Walter's coffin got to its respected place six feet under. Both Astrid and Olivia felt that Walter should have some flowers at his grave so Peter left them to arrange the matter as they wished without giving a crap.

And although Peter said he that would never come back to see Walter…he did so for this one last time, only because Olivia was coming alone, and that she was the only person in his life worthy of being given a proper goodbye, instead of his standard run off to the next country and not tell anyone way of departure.

Peter got back to his car, the only one parked on that lonely street. He couldn't even get in to it as emotional exhaustion took over his entire body. Instead, he leaned over the car trying to fight his thoughts of sadness and remorse…and even more painful, the difficulty in his decision to go back to Iraq. He fought this by insisting that there was no difficulty and that the work he did over there was much more rewarding and much less boring than whatever new position that Broyles was kind enough to offer him. And was there ever a guarantee that there would be a new position? The "Fringe Science" Unit crumbled without Walter, and without Walter, Peter was a needless nobody to these people once more.

He was, after all, just his babysitter.

True, he stayed to find answers…so did Olivia. But in the end, they both found that so many of their questions would never be answered. They were destined to be hopelessly lost forever. It only took them until now to finally realize this.

But Walter never needed an unsolved mystery to convince himself to stay. He remained for the absolute joy of doing his work again…even if it was for just a short while. Perhaps Walter did take the work seriously, although it was really hard for Peter to believe that given the unorthodox relationship they both decided to form with one another.

It was this moment of realization, the one of Peter and Walter actually being able to understand each other before his passing, that made Peter acknowledge the fact that he was only lying to himself. Even Walter had once told Peter that for all his ability to read others, Peter had a bad habit of not acknowledging and giving in to his true desires, the ones made by that small voice deep down that no one ever listens to.

But what Peter really wanted…was something he knew was his own fault that he would never get.

At some point since Walter and Peter reunited, when the father and son began to understand each other once again, Peter both feared and anticipated the day when he would break through his own walls and let the two of them be on terms which meant more than just looking out for each other…

…that they would be "family" again…

…that Peter would call him "dad" again.

That day never came and Peter knew he was to blame. Even though he meant to take his time, not rush the fact that things between the two of them could ever be like the innocence of his childhood again, Peter never felt like he was below other people…

…until Walter.

Peter's fist pounded the hood of the car. He couldn't yell or cry even though the tears were clearly on the way. There was just too much frustration over the fact that Peter had never…nor could ever…reach that stage where he could actually mourn for Walter.

For all he could do was be angry…be frustrated.

His throat couldn't muster a single roar of distraught. He wrapped his arms as his face sunk down…taking in the sounds of deathly, lifeless…silence…

…until faint clomping broke it…

And then the call of his name "Peter!" which he dismissed as white noise of the wind.

"PETER, WAIT UP!"

The desperation in the voice finally got Peter to look up and step away from the car.

The streets still remained empty and barren which made Peter wanting to doubt the call and the sound of footsteps…but then Olivia finally came around the corner, and the two of them looked at each other. Both eyes stared into each other reading the emotional train wrecks that they had become in the few minutes that had parted ways from each other.

Much to Peter's surprise, Olivia made the sudden move to approach Peter. Staring him down like a fierce but desperate animal, she managed to say two words with deep intensity.

"Don't go."

Peter was speechless.

"Just don't go. I thought you were being stupid for wanting to go back to Iraq but I was just lying to myself."

Who knew that he and Olivia would have come up with the same epiphany?

"Look, I know things have changed. It's not going to be the same. It didn't get better for me when John died. But if I had just ran away from it, I don't think I would've felt better."

"Now that's lying to yourself, Liv," Peter said coldly, trying to resist the honesty in Olivia's words. "This whole thing has been nothing but a personal hell for you, having to work with me and my dad…"

"I don't regret that…"

"Well after everything YOU had to go through, you should. And after everything I went through, do you really think things would be better for me if I stay?!"

Peter couldn't give up. Last thing he needed was to break down infront of Olivia. Both knew that Peter had been the strong one throughout their entire relationship.

"No, I wouldn't know if it would be better for you to stay."

For the first time, Olivia was starting to understand Peter without him having to say a single word.

"But I know you want to stay just as much as I do. So why can't you just leave it at that? You want to stay…you always did, Peter…and I know many of the reasons you did was for me."

Peter couldn't believe was Olivia was saying nor could he deny the truth behind her words. Never did she have the guts to tell it straight to him.

"I want you to stay, Peter. And I think you should listen to that little voice that is asking you to stay for all of us, because I know that's what you really want."

"All of us?" Peter asked confused.

"Of course," Olivia smiled. "You, me, and Walter."

Peter dropped his head down and smirked. Walter. Knowing him, he would rise up from the grave and would drag him by the ear all the way back to Boston if he even dare tried to run out.

It was time for Peter Bishop to be honest with himself.

Tears barely held back, he approached Olivia and wrapped his arms around her...and she took him in without any hesitation.

The embrace lasted longer than any moment of that day.

From that point on, Peter and Olivia would finally accept what they really wanted…to be with each other regardless of everything that would be lost along the way.

They walked away from Peter's car, arms still embraced in each other. They would have to take the path through the cemetery one last time towards the unknown yet hopeful future waiting on the other side.

As they passed by Walter's grave, they saw the first signs of true life in the cemetery that day…a pair of hummingbirds, already tending to the flowers Olivia planted in their search for the first sips of Springtime nectar.

They didn't cease their footsteps but kept their eyes on the birds until Walter's grave was out of their sight.

Nor did they knew where exactly they were traveling to next as Peter got into Olivia's car. But Peter no longer had to fear having no place to go.

Because the only way he had to go now was forward.