Chapter Text
She was so fucked.
Hadn't she been running for her life, Olivia might have taken a moment to reflect on how fitting this was. In the matter of universal wars and universe-crossing, nothing ever seemed to go smoothly for her; that included everything, from trying to protect her ass while on mission, to delivering full-term babies after ten weeks of gestation on the floor of a Chinese shop.
Some would say she simply had bad luck. Others would disagree and point out the fact that she had brought back luck upon herself. Something about karma, and how everything you did eventually came back at you like a boomerang.
Or like bullets.
As she ducked a new flurry of fire, taking a sharp turn into another damp tunnel, she couldn't concentrate much on the hows and whys of what had led her here, needing to make it out of this universe alive. Her feet were beating the ground just as furiously as her heart was thumping blood against her ears; despite this double echo, the sound of the guards' hurried footsteps and shouts were still too close for comfort.
Somehow managing to speed up, her fingers started to play with the device she had stolen from Brandon a few minutes ago, and she suddenly had to fight the urge to laugh –a very nervous kind of laugh. She had no idea what she was doing, and she wasn't only referring to how she was manipulating a piece of technology that had the power to make her molecules explode or something. She had officially become a traitor, a traitor who was now trying to go back to the 'enemy side' she had willing infiltrated and possibly condemned six months ago.
And apparently, the Secretary hadn't been informed yet, or he surely would have told his squad not to kill the mother of his grandchild.
She hurriedly forced that thought away as she dove into another passage, bullets flying way too close to her head. Thinking about her son was not helping at all. Wouldn't it be ironic and perfect, though, if she died in that stinky basement before she had a chance to redeem herself –if that was what she was trying to do, leaving her child deprived of both his parents before he was even a month old?
But she had to try. She had to try. This madness had to stop before a universe really ended up destroyed, because, in all honesty, she wasn't convinced theirs would be the spared one. Knowing what she knew, the opposite side wouldn't go without a fight, and they were more resourceful than the Secretary depicted them to be.
'Monsters in our skin', my ass.
The truth was, she needed Peter Bishop, and that definitely was the most laughable aspect of it all.
In her hands, the reddening device started to hum and vibrate, warming up incredibly fast, while the guards kept on getting closer and closer. She made a quick turn right.
Dead end.
"Shit!" she cursed angrily, because being angry was easier and safer than being scared; the burning sensation between her fingers increased, becoming painful now, and she was pretty sure she wasn't imagining the way the air itself seemed to be quivering all around her, along with every cell in her body.
"C'mon," she muttered, overwhelmed by the unpleasant tingling sensation she’d once experienced a few months ago in the back of a truck, the vibrating air now refusing to enter her lungs.
For a second there, she almost thought luck might be on her side, for once.
Or maybe not.
Pain erupted in her arm just before another kind of pain started to spread heatedly throughout her entire being, and she knew she had been hit. It made sense.
She was suspended between two sides now, literally and figuratively.
It was only logical for luck to be just as indecisive.