Meanwhile, Olivia is chasing down Christopher, who is grunting and groaning with the pain, and the annoyance of having chalk dust brushed into his hair between shots so it can look like he's getting older.
Peter has ripped some kind of power line out of the wall and asks his dad what the optimum voltage for cardiac resuscitation is. "Try two-hundred volts," say Walter, as though Peter has a little DIAL on the thing.
Olivia chases Christopher, who might at this point really just be trying to beat the line for the early bird special.
Peter has MacGyvered up a makeshift defibrillator, which doesn't work the first time, so he cranks it up... oh. There is a dial on that thing, whatever it is. And the second shock starts the woman's heart again. Well, good job, Peter. Let's see Farnsworth do that! "You're gonna be OK," Peter tells her. Maybe he should remember there is a serial killer and his accomplice on the loose around here?
Well, Christopher's not really much of a quarry anymore. He's slumped against some rusted machinery. Olivia approaches, looking horrified. "He should have let me die a long time ago," he says, coughing. As the light dramatically keeps flashing on Christopher's face, he's older each time we see him. He croaks out some story about Penrose keeping him alive because he loved him. Within seconds, he's dead. Hurry, Olivia! Question him!
Back at Massive Dynamic, Olivia's getting back her million-dollar damage deposit on the Eyeball Death-Image Extract-O-Matic from Nina Sharp, who thinks a woman of her talents shouldn't be working in the public sector (although Broyles is a "good man"), but at Massive Dynamic. Nina's argument, based on Olivia's desire to "make a difference," is somewhat chilling: that Massive Dynamic is of the world's ten largest economic entities, its weapons technologies shape defense department strategies, their investments sway markets and make or break presidential campaigns. As she gets into the "maintain private armies" and "preserve global equilibrium" part of the speech, Olivia finally speaks up. "You're serious," she says, somewhat horrified. Nina says a position here would speed Olivia's search for the answers. "You're referring to the Pattern," says Olivia. "Among other things," says Nina.
Back at Boston Federal Building, Broyles tells Olivia that Peter winged Penrose, and agents tracked a two-mile blood trail to Route One, and local PDs are on the lookout.
Then he starts talking about how every aspect of these cases is classified. Olivia's all "duh" except for the fact that she blabbers about it to anyone who'll listen. Broyles says certain private individuals, like Nina Sharp, have limited clearance. He wants to know if Nina told her anything about the Pattern: "Did she comment or mention anything about the details of your investigation?" Yeah, she said you were a good man, says Olivia. Anything else? "She offered me a job," says Olivia, who jokes that her response was Broyles was going to give her a raise.
Back at Walter's lab, Peter's pissed at having to sign a clearance form that involves him giving up his freedom from unlawful search and seizure. Good thing they're having the Fringe crew sign these after they've started investigating. Peter won't sign, but Walter will (Peter says it's because he's got nothing to lose, since he's already committed to a mental institution. I can't even IMAGINE talking to my dad like this all the time.
Peter stomps off, and Walter says Peter filled him in on Penrose and his "son." "It's one of the inherent pitfalls of being a scientist, trying to maintain that distinction between god's domain and our own." Olivia smiles at him. "But then you already know that," adds Walter. "What do you mean?" she asks. He says that if she's read his file, then she knows the truth about Peter's medical history. She tells him that there was no medical history in the file, just Peter's birthday. Discombobulated, Walter says he was going to ask her to keep it between the two of them, but... Olivia just stares at him.
Later, in the hotel room, Walter's mumbling numbers to himself to lull himself to sleep. It doesn't appear to be working, plus it's keeping Peter up. As you can imagine, Peter is very tolerant of this particular tic of his father's. But then, sweetly, he starts singing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat," and Walter drifts off to sleep. The last thing we see -- is it in Walter's head? -- is a row of bodies in what looks like a lab.