Epilogue

Walter Bishop awoke bright and early, and got dressed. He'd learned his lesson about proper morning attire one day when he'd taken his usual stroll to the kitchen sans clothing, and run into Olivia. He'd never guessed Olivia for a blusher, but she'd turned an unattractive shade of cotton-candy pink. Walter decided not to risk a repeat of the event.

Making his way downstairs, he stopped in front of the door to Peter's room. Correction, he thought to himself; Peter and Olivia's room. He hadn't heard any nocturnal activities the night before, but then again, they were both quiet, internal types. Walter wondered just how vocal either of them was during sexual intercourse; he knew Peter would be more than able to satisfy Olivia, having seen evidence of his son's physical endowment one day when he walked in on him in the shower. He touched the door affectionately before continuing downstairs.

As he puttered around the kitchen gathering the ingredients for his famous waffles, he had to laugh at how wonderfully normal everything seemed at that very moment. Just a few short weeks ago, he'd been a lonely, crazy old man in St. Claire's Mental Hospital, and the universe had been close to extinction. And here he was now, whisking pancake batter on a beautiful, ordinary day, in a balanced universe as his son slept safely and soundly upstairs with his girlfriend… or, dare Walter hope one day, fiancée?

He had just turned the stove on for his first batch when he heard a knock on the door. Looking askance at the clock, he took a quick glance out the window, and saw a Massive Dynamic limousine parked outside the house. He walked to the living room, and opened the door in time to see Nina Sharpe coming to the door. "Why, Nina! How lovely to see you this morning. But I'm not scheduled to return to work until tomorrow. Peter and I will be driving down together." He tugged his robe tighter as he spoke.

Nina smiled. "You were never such a one for modesty, Walter. It's just me."

Walter chortled, ushered her inside and gestured to her to have a seat on the couch. "Is Peter here, Walter?" Nina asked. "How is he feeling?"

"Oh, yes, he and Agent Dunham are upstairs asleep. Together," he added gleefully. "He's much better. Still a bit banged up and tired, but he's... he's wonderful."

"Walter," Nina said, "We need to talk."

Peter rubbed his eyes, yawned, cleared his throat, and reached for one of the two toothbrushes Walter had kindly left on the bathroom sink for him and Olivia. All thought of brushing vanished, however, as two slim, strong hands snaked around his waist, untying the belt of his robe and slipping inside. "Unhand me, woman," he joked, leaning back into Olivia's touch.

"Never," she whispered against his back, hugging him close. "Good morning."

"Mornin'," he yawned, turning to face her. "Sorry if I woke you."

Olivia shook her head. "You didn't."

"Oh, playing possum, eh?" he chuckled, kissing her lightly.

"I'd rather be playing other games," she murmured against his lips.

"Hold that thought, I think I hear Walter downstairs," he smiled. "C'mon." Olivia re-tied Peter's robe, buttoned an extra button on the shirt - his - that she had thrown on, and took his hand.

They walked downstairs, and into the now-smoky kitchen. Peter scowled at the burning pancake he saw as he walked over and turned off the stove. "Hey Walter, I think this pancake's a goner," he called out. "What did we say about paying attention while we're cooking? Walter?"

"Oh!" Olivia exclaimed as she saw Nina and Walter in the living room. Nervously, she tried to pull the shirt to reach her knees. "Um, hi, Nina. What brings you here?"

Nina smiled affectionately. "Hello, dear. Don't worry, you look lovely."

Peter entered the room behind her, coughing. "Nina? Walter, if you're going to invite company over for breakfast, try not burning the breakfast," he choked out, bending slightly as another cough overtook him.

Walter jumped up from the couch, ran to Peter and grasped the lapel of his robe. "Let me see," he said frantically, pulling the robe off his shoulder.

"Hey!" Peter exclaimed. "Take it easy. What's with the manhandling?" He looked down at his own shoulder and noticed the bruise. "Oh, that."

Olivia's eyes went wide. "Peter, did I do that? Last night?" she asked softly, mortified. Peter shrugged.

"Oh, God," Walter moaned. "Where else are you bruised? How long has this been happening?"

"Hello, Peter. Walter, let's sit down again, all right?" Nina said, patting the couch seat next to her. Peter led Walter to the couch and guided him down, then sat with Olivia on the loveseat.

"Now, breathe, all right? In, and out." Nina kept talking to Walter as Walter's breathing slowed. "That's better. Peter, that's quite a bruise. How long have you had it?" she began.

"Uh, I dunno. Never really paid attention." At Walter's terrified expression, he said, "Okay, now, listen. You know as well as I do that the orderlies at St. Claire's - besides being shapeshifters - weren't exactly gentle touches, right? I got a little banged up there. " He paused to cough into his sleeve. "It's not a big deal," he added, his voice hoarse.

Olivia leaned over and placed the back of her hand gently on his forehead. "You catching a cold? You feel a little warm."

"He's not catching a cold," Walter said flatly. "You've been bruising. You've been running a low-grade fever since you came back."

"Walter, I got electrocuted. Twice, in three months. And shot. A guy's gonna be a little outta whack after that, don't you think? The docs at the Massive Dynamic infirmary said I just have to rest up a little to get my immune system back on track."

"Nina just gave me the results of the blood samples I sent to the lab for analysis while you were in the hospital."

"I thought the samples were for research," Olivia said suspciously. "What else did you test them for, and why?"

"Because I own the place," Walter snapped. "Because they have more sophisticated testing methods. And because," he reached out and took Peter's hand, "This is my son."

Peter leaned over and patted Walter's hand. "Okay, Walter, that's fine. So, what's the scoop?"

"I should have known. I just should have known. The timeline was restored, but you… you were re-set."

"Walter..." Nina said.

"Re-set? I don't understand," Peter admitted.

"It wasn't the same cure as his. I thought it was just a modification. To stabilize the compound. That was his mistake. The damned compound wasn't stable, and he wasn't paying attention…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Dad," Peter stopped him. "What are you talking about? Are you talking about when I was a kid? When I was sick? When… "

"When I took you. Yes," Walter admitted. "I only sent the sample as a precautionary measure. Just to make sure you were all right. I never expected…" Walter clutched Peter's hand to his chest. "This isn't fair. You sacrificed everything for us. And… "

Peter took his hand from Walter's. "I'm sick again, aren't I? The hepia. It's back," he said without emotion.

"It's not hepia, per se," Walter said, trying to be clinical. "It's similar, but it's also tied to a genetic anomaly unique to your physiognomy."

Olivia, desperately trying to remain calm, asked, "Can't you just look up the cure in your file, and administer it again? That should work, shouldn't it?"

"Not necessarily, Olivia," Nina said sadly.

Peter jumped in. "It's possible that the modification Walter made to the compound made it compatible for… " Peter swallowed thickly. "For his Peter. But for me, it just made the symptoms dormant. Until now. Until what happened at St. Claire's re-set my genetic code to my alternate origins. I'd been here for so long, my system had adapted. Evolved, almost. But now… " He shrugged. "Not so much, I guess."

"No!" Olivia shouted, standing so quickly that plates clattered from the table to the floor.

"Livia, take it easy," Peter said, standing as well.

"Take it easy? Take it easy? We just got you back. You sacrificed yourself to save both universes, and this is the thanks you get? Nina showing up on our doorstep and pronouncing your death sentence? I don't think so."

"There must be a way," Walter muttered. "If my cure sent the illness into a dormant phase for this long, half my work is done for me. I simply have to modify the modification."

"Walter," Peter said, sitting again and taking Walter's hands in his. "I don't want you obsessing on this to the point where you make yourself sick, okay? I'm gonna need you if this gets bad, ya hear me? We're both gonna need you."

"I can do this, son," Walter insisted, tears in his eyes.

"I know you can, Dad," Peter agreed. "But, just take it one step at time, all right? I have no intention of going anywhere for a very long time. We'll deal with this the way we always do. Together. We know the problem, and now we just have to work it out."

"Damn right," Olivia agreed, linking an arm with Peter's, and placing her free hand on Walter's. "And I'll be here to help. And like you said, Walter… I don't fail, and I will do anything I have to do."

"See that, Walter? We've got this in the bag," Peter said comfortingly. "Hey, I just saved two universes - and my existence - all by my lonesome. With a team like this, saving my life should be a piece of cake." Walter watched Peter's face pale as he nervously squeezed his hand. "Right?"

"Right," Walter whispered. "Right."

THE... END?