After the commercial break, she's lying back, eyes darting back and forth. Barrett strokes her forehead, and says, "It's me, Roland. You made a terrible mistake, but it's OK now. You're back." He soothes her, holds her head and she looks utterly insentient. He stops smiling as her breathing gets slower and more infrequent, and he lays her head back down and her head lolls and he starts to get upset -- but it's only going to get a whole lot worse for him, as from upstairs he can hear the sound of the FBI banging on his door. So he leaves Amanda lying there, head swiveling from side-to-side like a stunned baby drawn to lights and sounds.
Upstairs, FBI agents are moving through the stately mansion, with its stained-glass windows and many leather-bounds books and smell of mahogany. While Broyles finds steps into the basement, Barrett has apparently come upstairs a different way and probably wishes that maybe he was wearing sneakers, something that would make a less clip-cloppy noise on the hard floors. He runs into Olivia, who tackles him and growls, "Where is she?" Barrett says she's downstairs.
That's where Broyles, Peter and Walter are searching. It's Peter who finds another set of stairs into an even danker part of the basement.
Upstairs, Barrett tells Olivia: "I was trying to correct a wrong. She made a mistake." Olivia asks what his relationship was with Amanda. Nothing sexual, apparently, which is good, because we wouldn't want this to be CREEPY. He just says he wanted her to have another chance, to live a life. Olivia asks him if he has anything profound to say, something that might have some personal resonance for her own life. "When I looked into her eyes, it wasn't Amanda. I don't know what I brought back, but I know it ... it wasn't her." Olivia stares at him grimly. You got it, Olivia? This man brought back the woman he loved from the other side, and he could tell just by looking in her eyes that it wasn't the woman he loved.
Now, there are some differences. For example, I'm sure that if Peter had reanimated Olivia's dead body -- after first reinserting donated organs -- he should probably have some idea that it wasn't going to be the exact same person. But other than that IT'S EXACTLY THE SAME.
Meanwhile, the boys have found Amanda, who's sitting lifelessly, eyes open, in a comfortable chair. Walter inspects her, says she's dead, does the close-the-eyes thing that people do on television that I'd probably be too freaked out to do in real life.
Later on outside, Walter asks his son what he needs after a day like today: a strawberry milkshake. Peter says he can do that, but Walter's request of "extra whipped cream" is pushing his luck too far with his grumpy ingrate son.
And Olivia's sitting all by herself in the darkness of Barrett's yard, with lawn furniture that of course makes it look like a 19th-century English garden nightmare, and Peter asks if she's OK. He touches her shoulder, and she recoils, her head in her hands. He sits down next to her and asks what's up. After a moment, she tells him what Barrett said, about looking into Amanda's eyes and knowing that it wasn't her. Peter knows this isn't going to go well, and he really doesn't have much choice to listen to Olivia's anguished lament about how she understands the facts of the matter, which is that Fauxlivia would have had reams of information about her, and reasonable explanations for everything. "But when I was over there, I thought about you. And you were just a figment of my imagination. But I held onto you, and it wasn't reasonable, and it wasn't logical, but I did it, so ... why didn't you?" It's not a question that Peter's going to have any kind of acceptable answer to, kind of like, "Whose bra is this?" Olivia's not finished: "She wasn't me. How could you not see that?" she says. Peter looks sad, but at least he has the good sense to keep his mouth shut and let her finish and not offer up any non-comfort like "she smiles more" and "she's less intense." And then Olivia drives the final nail in: "Now she's everywhere. She's in my house, my job, my bed, and I don't want to wear my clothes anymore, and I don't want to live in my apartment. And I don't want to be with you. She's taken everything." She gets up and stomps off, Peter looking miserable. After she's gone, much too softly for her to hear, he says he's sorry. I get the feeling that he ain't seen sorry yet.
And then we see the fabulous Bishop Boys' shaggin' wagon pull up outside Peggy's Malt Shop, and I was pleased with myself for spotting the Observer's silhouette in the foreground, because I hardly ever see the damn guy, only it turns out to be a plot point. As the Bishops go in, he dials on his freaky Observer cellphone thingy, and says, "I have arrived. Yes, I am looking at him as we speak. He is still alive." Walter's in the centre of the malt shop shot, but I think that's a little bit of misdirection. I think he's talking about Peter, and that this has to do with them correcting the fact that an Observer intervened to save Peter's life (like in that episode "August"). But then again, Peter's significant, no? Or maybe he isn't anymore. Well, I guess we'll find out next week. What's that? I'm being told that this awesome season is off now until Jan. 21. That does not seem fair. Well, let me just circle the date on the calendar ... hold on, now. Thursday is Jan. 20, so that date must be wrong. Unless they're moving Fringe to Fridays. Boy, wouldn't that be awful? I mean, Friday is where underperforming television shows go to die, isn't it? I mean ...
Oh. Oh no.
Daniel is a writer in Newfoundland with a wife and a daughter. Follow him on Twitter (@DanMacEachern) or email him at danieljdaniel[at]gmail.com.