"Ms Pope," Tom said softly placing a hand on her shoulder to wake her. Olivia looked up disoriented, for a moment forgetting where she was. Hoping that her worst fears lived only in her dreams, but as her eyes focused and saw that she was in a private ward of the John Madison hospital, she knew she wasn't. When her eyes fell on their intertwined fingers as he lay there lifeless, she knew she was living in a nightmare, her personal nightmare.

"Ms Pope, the first lady is en route to the hospital." Understanding what he meant she nodded standing to her feet. Mellie had revoked her privileges, and she was not allowed to visit Fitz. If it wasn't for Tom, she would have only seen him once in the last three weeks. Three weeks! It was hard to believe that it had been three weeks since the attempted assassination of Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III. Her fiery, full of life and passion Fitzgerald now lay there without a sign of waking up. Every day he didn't open his eyes, was another day where a part of her soul died.

In the beginning Tom could only sneak her in during the evenings after the First Lady had retired to the residence. She spent most of her days in his hospital room like a devastated first wife pulling for her husband. As the press coversage died down, so did her visits. These days, it was easier for Liv to just happen to be in the hospital, and for Tom to just happen to look away as she snuck into Fitz's room to see him, to squeeze his hand, to kiss his lips, to hug him as tightly as she could willing him to open his eyes.

There had been so much anger and resentment in their last meetings, he had finally let her go. She made him so mad by not answering his calls that he was beyond reasonable. She would take his screaming at her at her over him laying there lifeless.

Olivia kissed his lips and squeezed his hand before reluctantly leaving him. Tom had offered to stay with the president full time. If he were honest a big part of it was so Olivia would have the opportunity to be with Fitz. Hal, who had been the one to alert the First Lady of the affair between Fitz and Olivia would never go against the wishes of the First Lady.

Without fail Olivia was in the hospital every day. Whenever she wasn't at the White House, or checking in at Pope and Associates Headquarters, she was there. Every night she slept in his hospital room, at first in the uncomfortable chair holding his hand, till one night she just couldn't stand it anymore and climbed into his hospital bed wrapping her arms around him, begging for his body to awaken as it touched hers, but still he remained unmoving. She refused to give up on him.

One of the nurses, Margaret who was in her sixties had walked in on Olivia one night as she massaged his legs, bent them, stretched them so that he wouldn't lose mobility in them. Margaret saw the bowl filled with shaving cream suds on the table and wordlessly checked on his vitals allowing Olivia to continue as though she didn't see anything. It was hard to miss that she loved him. Everything she did, she did for him. As Margaret was about to leave the room she stopped and placed a hand on Olivia's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Olivia looked up and the compassion in Margaret's eyes made her own eyes well up in tears. She felt so alone. Right or wrong, there was no question that her whole world revolved around the man who lay on the bed unaware. Every night Olivia was there.

Olivia had enough time to go home, shower and change before reporting to the White House for her temporary stint as Communications Director. Olivia knew she stayed on to help out because being at the white house made her feel closer to him. As time passed, she realized she stayed for Cyrus who was struggling to exist in the White House as Sally Langston stood in the place of his President's place. If there was any doubt in anyone's mind whether Cyrus Beene loved Fitz, his loyalty to him quashed that. Olivia knew that the longer Fitz stayed unconscious Cyrus the more Cyrus began to unravel.

"I'm making lists, of Fitz's favourite songs, bands he loves, poems he's quoted, bible verses that seem to fit his personality, hymns he likes. Sally has me planning his funeral. Mellie's let me visit him exactly once, and she revoked my privileges. I may not even get to say goodbye."

"I'm only going to say this once, and I better not ever have to say it again. Don't you ever again suggest to me the Fitzgerald Thomas Grant the Third is going to die. That is unacceptable coming from you. He calls you the love of his life, don't you dare give up on him."

When Cyrus arrived at the White House he saw that Olivia was already in her office which at present was where he spent most of his time since Sally moved him out of his office so that her chief of staff could be closer at hand.

"Do you sleep? Ever?" he asked as the exhaustion was starting to show in her face. Though she was still immaculately seemingly put together, her eyes to those privy to her soul saw right through her. At present, Cyrus was the only person she allowed in.

"I can't sleep. I dream that it's all a dream, and I wake up and realize the nightmare is my reality."

"Liv, you can't keep running on empty."

"I don't know how else to be Cy. Without him it's like I have to remind myself to keep breathing in and out. So put one foot in front of the other. Blink every so often. I don't know how to do whatever this is without him." She confessed unable to look up at him. Cyrus closed the blinds and walked over to her desk and placed a hand on her shoulder as she wept.