IT IS NEVER WHAT IT SEEMS

"Etta," her mother said, cupping her face gently but staring into her eyes with an intensity that scared and comforted her at the same time. "I love you so much."

"I know."

Then everything went hazy and the world became muted. She vaguely saw her grandfather crying at her feet right before her father took her into his arms as he also wept in denial and grief. They had to go she thought, they were humanity's last hope and they shouldn't be here when the warehouse ceases to exist, or worse, when the Invaders return, as they surely would. But her voice was lost, and she no longer had the ability to push them away, to hasten their retreat.

Finally, and all too soon, her father let her go, gently sitting her back against the broken wall. Her hair was damp with his tears. She felt Walter touch her foot one last time, and her mother kissing her forehead. And then they were gone.

She was alone with the pain, and the cold creeping up her body. It was getting harder to breathe. Etta barely felt the Invaders' presence as they returned to inspect her body, and to look for her parents.

During one shallow breath that might have been her last, the darkness inside her lids exploded and an unexpected warmth wrapped around her.

"Hey, I came as soon as I could. What happened? Is everything alright? Is it one of the kids?"

"No," the woman smiled, absent-mindedly kissing her husband. "A Fringe agent was brought into the ER. Gunshot wound to the chest."

"Oh. Well, how's that unusual?" he asked, slowing down to allow a gurney pushed by two doctors to roll pass.

"The way she was brought in," she shrugged. "A bald man in a suit appeared out of nowhere and then disappeared again after the EMTs started to work on her. He gave them my name before he left though."

"A bald man in a-" hastily, he caught up with her. "An Observer brought her? What? Brought her from where?"

"That's precisely what we're here to find out."

The burning in her chest woke Etta up. Her throat felt dry and her head hurt. She took a deep breath, and although the burning intensified, it no longer felt like it was going to be her last. She opened her eyes.

Two people stood at the end of her bed, watching her with curiosity and wariness. Confused, but recognizing the woman immediately despite her more aged appearance, Etta sat up. "Mom?"

Her eyebrow raised, Liv Dunham cocked her head to the side.

Next to her, Lincoln readjusted his glasses and turned to his wife. "Um, Liv, is there something you need to tell me?"