A/N: I updated Chapters 12 and this one together.

I know the exact events from the show after when Olivia shot her step-father are iffy, but I put in my own version because it worked with everything else.

This contains quite a few 'flashes' of 'Home Is Where The Heart Is', I meant to wiggle these in, in earlier chapters :/

Chapter 13 – Who Am I?

She was reading another one, a two page 'report' of an incident dated from when she was 7 years old. Attached to the corner was a picture of her with tape over some stitches that lined her left eye which had turned a dark purple.

Her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks stained with tears. The policeman or woman who had taken the report and photo, had wanted to keep photographic evidence of the exact state she was in after the incident.

The second page of the 'report' was the medical report, listing her cuts, bruises, and how many stitches were needed for each. It was the same as the four other reports she had read in the last half hour.

"And this one?" she handed him a photo of her mother, her face beaten and bruised.

"You told me that that was taken before you shot him, when you were nine,"

"I told you he was abusive. He would always feet angry, but mum always said it was because he was so stressed, so he drank, and when he was drunk he would hit us. Rachel would hid most of the time when he was drunk. He could never be bothered going to find her to hit her, or yell at her."

"I was only nine years old and . . . I shot him. Mum would, couldn't stand up to him. But me, a nine year old did."

"No child should have gone through what you and Rachel did. You shouldn't have had to do what you did."

"It was justified."

OOOOO

Peter flipped through the remaining photos in the box, finding the one he wanted, but not showing it to her just yet.

"This is a man who still haunted you even after all these years. Sending birthday cards to you every year so you would remember that he was still out there, alive, that you hadn't killed him. One night he was in your apartment when you came home. I remember you'd been expecting a card all day and it never came. He did instead."

Olivia nodded, looking down at the floor, as she took it all in,

"You shot him, again, but he survived. You stayed with me. That's how we ended up together."

Peter was near sleep when she spoke,

"How long can I stay with you?" Olivia asked.

I want to stay, she thought.

"As long as you need. As long as you want." he replied, burying his face in her hair, nuzzling against her neck.

'I don't want you to leave', he thought.

It felt too real, too true.

"I don't like this. Not knowing what's real or not, what's true and what's false." She breathed heavily, "I don't know who I am, Peter!" it came out full of pain and confusion,

Her memories were distorted, everything trying to push up, to claim her mind, mixing together and fading away all at once.

She could see . . . . . something. She was in a hospital, she could feel sweat on her face, over her body as pain engulfed her. Somewhere next to her, she could hear Frank's voice, telling her to keep going, she could feel him squeeze her hand, but she couldn't see him, and then the shrill cries of an infant filled the room.

Lacey's birth.

Holding her baby, she could hear Peter, telling her to not give up, that he loved her and that everything would be okay, that he would find her. She felt a sense of belonging when Peter had spoken to her. Her whole life she never felt like she belonged, even with Frank, but those few words from Peter and she suddenly felt complete.

OOOOO

"What did he mean when he wrote that I thought I could hide from him?"

"When you were . . . Over There, you would have received 3 more birthday cards. We had you're mail rerouted to our letter box but no cards showed. You told me that he always found you, no matter where you were, he always managed to find you and leave the birthday card. But for three years he couldn't find you. He must have been watching your apartment to know that you weren't there anymore; otherwise he would have left the cards like he always did." Peter stopped briefly, checking that she was still following along, "from what you've told me of him, it would have angered him to not be able to find you, that you had actually gotten away from him."

"Somehow, he how found out, I'm still not sure, but he left this," he handed her the photo, "under my front door,"

She looked at the photo, remembering the events before it,

Olivia turned over, facing Peter. She kissed him, moving in to close the gap between them.

"Will you be here, when I wake? Or will you pretend like this never happened?" she asked quietly. Half hoping he hadn't heard it.

"I will always be here, Olivia. This is real, and I don't want to forget about it." he kissed her. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist, his other hand stroking her face.

As they staying in their embrace, the near-silent footsteps in the outside hallway stopped at their apartment door. The man slipped a single photo under the door.

The photo faced upwards. It was of Peter and Olivia, in Peter's apartment. The photo must have been taken from the adjacent building. It was them, Peter was on top of her, kissing her. In black permanent marker 'I Will Always Be Here' was scrawled out on the top of the photo.

He knew where they were.

He knew about Peter.

She could . . . feel it. The love, the passion, the warmth of Peter's hand across her cheek, she could feel the terror that rippled through her body when they had found the photo the next morning. They were so strong, so confusing. If this 'flashback' was real, then what she was feeling were her memories, a recollection of that night, with Peter. But it still seemed so distant. Her mind was barely her own anymore. She could have made up these "memories" from what she read and was told, but it was the emotions that made everything shatter.

Wait, this one, it was . . .

Peter looked up, seeing Olivia's face concentrating on . . . something, "What is it?"

"I woke up, and you were in the kitchen. You wanted, no, you had insisted on making pancakes from scratch." She looked at him then, searching for confirmation that this has in fact happened. A smile had appeared on his face, prompting her to continue telling what she was seeing. "You said that we were lucky to be at my place, because Walter would have been walking around naked again and would make some remark about last night."

She felt happy. The other memories she felt anger, sadness, content, passion, but she hadn't felt such strong happiness from just one memory. Before all this, when she was with Frank, she never felt this. A small voice in her head told her it was because none of that was true, none of it was real, it was something built on falsity. Thinking back now, everything she'd felt then had always had a slight hollowness to it. She'd always had a doubt that something was missing but could never place it.

Now she knew. She knew where she belonged. Even if she couldn't remember all of it, she was remembering. Peter cared deeply for her, and she knew he would help her remember everything. She knew he would be a great father to Lacey. In the end, her home was here, with Lacey and Peter.

A/N: Not my best ending (or fic to be honest), jumpy and rushed, I know but I really needed to move on so I can finish editing my NaNoWriMo novel without feeling guilty about updates for this.

Thank you to those who reviewed and favourite this, I'm sorry that this turned out so shabby, but I have good hopes for my NaNo which I wrote as a fringe fanfic so hopefully that will make up for this :D