Title: Snow in a Field of White Tulips
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Just by looking at the amount of the boxes and the care that had been taken by sealing them and making sure they would survive decades of dirt and rot, he knew who Subject 13 was.
Author's Note: Here's the last chapter for this little story. If you liked it, please let me know :)

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Peter was woken by the chilly air surrounding his naked body. Crooking open an eye, he noticed Olivia sleeping next to him, her hand clutching at the sheets and the comforter she was tightly wrapped in. He chuckled as he snuck his hand under the sheets, letting it slide over the curve of her hips. A soft moan escaped her, and she immediately moved closer to him, inviting him into the warmth under the sheets without even opening her eyes.

"I was cold," she murmured into his chest as she settled herself in a comfortable position, enveloped in his strong arms.

"Says the person who had the sheets and the comforter," came his sleepy reply.

"I was dreaming of snow. It made me cold."

Peter closed his eyes again and let the words revel in his mind. She had been dreaming of snow. He had been dreaming of white tulips. Even in his sleep, the pictures young Olive had drawn seemed to haunt him whereas Olivia… she didn't seem to be affected at all. Snow and tulips – two things that clearly didn't go together. And suddenly, a memory shot right through his mind and he was wide awake.

"You dreamed of snow?"

He felt her breathing stop for a moment, then she exhaled slowly, as if on purpose, her warm breath tingling against his bare chest, "Can we talk about this tomorrow?"

"Snow falling in a field of white tulips."

His words caused her to crook an eye open at him, "What are you talking about?"

"I remember."

And now, Olivia was wide awake as well, "You remember snow in a field of white tulips? I think you've been looking at those drawings too much."

He shook his head at her as he reached his hand out towards her, his fingers gently tracing a half circle under her right eye, "He hit you."

"He hit me a lot. He hit all of us."

That was when a memory flashed in front of her eyes. Sitting in the middle of a field of white flowers, all she saw were burnt tulips at her feet. She hadn't meant to burn them, all she had wanted to do was find solace in the beauty. But her hands had still been hot, and no matter how hard she tried to cool them down, every tulip she touched burnt to a crisp. She closed her eyes and buried her face in Peter's chest.

"It was my hiding spot," she whispered as she felt his hand gently stroking the small of her back, "No one ever went looking for me there because no one seemed to care. Except for you."

"I care about you," he placed his chin on top of her head, "I always have."

He could feel her lips forming a smile as they gently brushed against his skin. His mind was still reeling about the bits and pieces he started to remember about that fateful night in that field of tulips. Most of the context was still lost to him, but what had come back to him was enough. Olivia's tear stricken face was soon replaced with her smiling face when she held her hand out for him to take. He had been the one to give her back hope.

In the darkness, he could feel Olivia's hand searching for his, so he reached up for her, their fingers intertwining instantly. She pulled back her head a little so she could look up at him, "I've cooled off."

He chuckled slightly, reveling in the notion that she did remember as well. He brought their locked hands up to his lips and gently kissed the back of her hand.

"You gotta imagine how you want things to be," he started, and without hesitation, Olivia finished, "then you can try and change them."