Olivia grasped the gun tightly. 'I'm nineteen!' she thought 'what am I even doing holding a gun?'
Peter looked at his clock. 5am. He hadn't been getting that much sleep since his father got home from the mental institution 3 weeks ago. He could hear his father humming to himself downstairs, and was no doubt cooking naked. Not cooking naked things, actually physically cooking food whilst being naked. It wasn't the most pleasant thing, but Peter Bishop had been withheld by the FBI to look after his father while he was unstable. In return he got free tutoring from Havard, which also happened to be the place where his father worked. Peter sighed, 'Lucky me.' He hated being the babysitter.
He stared at the ceiling. Today his first day of University. He had tried getting into M.I.T. when he was younger, but after six months they found him and kicked him out as soon as they noticed him. After that he had managed to keep himself busy, but today was his day to proove himself. He wanted to be better than he was, he wanted to be the smart one, the one that the criminals sort for in case of any problems, and after he would recieve his qualifications he would be powerful enough to take charge and be his own man.
Yet this was unlikely to happen if he was going to spend the next several years looking after his father.
----------------------------------------------
Olivia spat out her toothpaste foam and watched it swirl down the sink. She turned on the tap, let the water leak down, rinsed the sink and then cleaned off her toothbrush. Today was the first day of the second year of her Law degree, and after this she was planning a career of justice.
Olivia wanted to be an FBI Agent. Everything about the idea of the job excited her. The thrill of the chase, the struggle of identity. And of course she was more than happy to have her family help her along the way.
"Liv!" cried her sister from the kitchen, "Olivia! You've got to come down and see this."
Olivia frowned at herself in the mirror and armed herself with a razer blade for safety. Who knew what her sister wanted her to see?
She crept down the stairs and silently crawled towards the kitchen.
"OLIVIA?!" her sister cried, "What are you doing holding a blade like that? Put it down!"
Olivia sighed with relief and put the blade down. "Sorry, Rach. I thought there was something wrong, and...I thought I better arm myself..."
Rachel put her hands on her sister's face and gave her a comforting smile. "Liv..." she soothed, "I know you're trying to protect me and Ella since Mom isn't here anymore...but you've got to let get go! We're safe, you know it. We're safe..."
"You're safe..." repeated Olivia, wrapping her sister into a warm hug. She then let go with a smirk.
"So!" she refreshed, "What were you going to show me?"
Her sister lead her to Ella's highchair. The two girls gleamed up a Olivia with shining eyes. "She said something," Rachel cried, "She said...laugh."
Olivia smiled, "Really?"
"Yeah."
Ella began to laugh and her and Rachel just stood staring at the baby, wondering where they would be without her.
Suddenly Olivia looked up at the clock that hung over the oven. "Damn it!" she cried, "I'm late!"
"But your course doesn't start until nine?" called Rachel as she watched Olivia rush around the house to get her keys and jacket.
"Yeah," replied Liv, "But Charlie and I promised Broyles' we'd help out with some new guy he's bringing in today."
Rachel smiled, "Okay," and waved her sister off. "Have a good day Liv."
Olivia smiled. "You too."
