Disclaimer: I do not own Scandal
AN: Hello again. I recently caught the writing bug upon finishing my other story and decided what the heck, why not write a one shot.
Life. Life was his two children whose smile could brighten his entire week. Life was the baby growing inside his wife that wasn't even his but he loved anyways. Life was the people of the United States of America and every other country that depended on him to be great. Heck, life was even his rare afternoon naps and the fresh oranges he got to pick off his tree at the ranch. But most importantly, life was Olivia. Life was her laugh and the way she attacked a problem until she got it right. Life was the cute way her brows would furrow when she was focused. Life was the way her eyes light up when he walked into a room or how she would lay her head in his lap when she got tired. Life were stolen kisses and brief moments of passion that passed too soon. Life was her.
Death. The opposite of life in every sense of the word; the true meaning of an antonym. Death was devastating to those left behind. It was ugly and dark and something no one wanted to think about. Death ripped apart families and caused never ending turmoil for lovers. Death was Olivia. Death was every missed phone call and shunned advance. Death was leaving the warmth of her arms to return to a frigid world that her love couldn't protect him from. Death was knowing that they would never live a normal life without scrutiny. Death was seeing her in the arms of another. Death was her.
The two guarantees that one has is life and death. You have life when your heart beats and death when it doesn't. Simple as that. These two things are completely different but for Fitz, they were so intertwined that even the Grim Reaper himself didn't know whether to come or go. For him, everything began and ended with her. Her life was his and when it ended, so did he.
"Today there was a ten car pileup on the beltway." Cyrus' eyes were red rimmed and his shoulders were shaking with the new sobs that were breaking free.
This was nothing new. Nothing to be alarmed about. Car crashes happened all the time but the way Cyrus said it, his body language, Fitz knew something was wrong. He tried not to give away his emotions, tried to keep a straight face until everything was said. Overall, it could be nothing.
"Her car..." he stopped, getting too choked up to speak, "during the pileup…her car hit a gas truck and it blew up. There was no way for her to escape and she...Olivia...Liv is gone." Cyrus couldn't even convey the correct order of events because he was so distraught.
No words mattered after that. Not his explanation on how it was most likely that she didn't suffer but because of the burns, they weren't sure. Not how she was the only one that didn't make it or the fact that they got the guy that caused the accident, a drunk driver, in custody. Not even the fact that Cyrus that there was foul play was involved and wanted Fitz help figuring out why. The only thing that mattered was that her life ended and so did his.
So here he sat. In his private study with his best glass of scotch and his father's prized revolver sitting on the desk. It challenged him, practically yelling 'are you brave enough to face the world without her?' The answer was a resounding no. So he loaded the bullets one by one deciding that if he played Russian roulette that he'd lose his nerve. He had already typed his suicide letter to the country. It spoke of the stresses of the job becoming too much. Not of his love. He also wrote more personal ones for his kids in hopes that one day they'd understand what it was like for souls to be so infused that one could not exist without the other. Even Mellie got a note explaining how none of this was her fault and that it was just their time to go.
With a deep breath he picked up the revolver. The weight of the cool metal in his hand felt...right. He knew what this meant. It meant they could finally be together. Their love transcended life and seemed to blossom in death. That was the funny thing about them. Everything was backwards, always had been, always would be. Even though he was no sharp shooter, this wouldn't require precision. He drained the last of his scotch, making sure to get every last drop before he set it down and pulled the trigger.
"President Grant was found dead by his secret service agent Tom Sinclair yesterday at noon. Many of the White House staff heard the single shot as it seemed to echo throughout the halls. His service has been scheduled to happen this Saturday and will be closed casket due to heinous wounds sustained from the blast..." the reporter continued on and explaining more details of the upcoming funeral.
The nation was in shock. No one expected this of him. He appeared to be happy. He had a new baby on the way, bills were being passed and a second term was in the bag. No one knew that he was tormented by the empty spot his love left when she went. No one even knew the two events were connected. But how could they not? To him it was obvious. There was no way he could be when she did not.
But life was death and because they did everything the opposite of how it was supposed to go, death was life.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Huck asked as he set everything up to perfection.
"I'm sure that I want him. Are you sure that no one will get hurt?" she questioned back. At his nod she affirmed that this was her final choice. To chose death so that she could have life.
"Sir, are you absolutely positive that this is the right decision? What about the kids?" Tom wanted to give him an out but knew all too well his wasn't going to take it.
"The kids will know where I am it and how to contact me. When they are older they can even come visit. I know what I am doing. Just make sure that no one comes in here after it is done." Tom nodded and left to make sure everything was right on track.
"Liv..." he called her name and could finally breathe when she turned to see him.
He didn't know if this was real. It still seemed as though this was all a dream, just a crazed plan between to star crossed lovers that would never come to fruition. To be honest when she first suggested it, he thought that it was just pillow talk. He figured that she had read Romeo and Juliet too many times. But as she told him why they would need to do this, he had no choice but to agree.
So they began planning. It took a month to get everything just right. Huck would steal a no named body from the morgue that no one would miss and plant it in her car. In the confusion of the first crash, no one would notice the switching of the bodies and with him driving the gas truck that would cause her car to explode, it was sure that no one would get harmed. No one would even notice her rising from the flames like a phoenix because they would all be focused on running from the explosion.
Fitz's part was a little more complicated. They decided he would have to wait six months before he could implement his part of the plan to avoid suspicion. Liv suggested longer but he was not willing to be away from her any more than what he deemed necessary. Tom was the only person he fully trusted, besides Liv, so he was chosen to carry out the necessary arrangements. He got the drug that would be slipped into his scotch that would slow his heart rate and paid the necessary people an obscene amount of money to look the other way. The casket of course was empty and no one was the wiser. Complicated as it was, it was more than worth it.
"I've missed you," Olivia said as she exited their cottage to greet him as he walked up the steps.
It took some time, but they had found the perfect location. A remote island with a small population of less than 1,000 people right off the coast of Thailand. It was pure luck that this island was once owned by a billionaire for a brief period of time but was now forgotten. When the billionaire owned the island, he had a beautiful beach house built and it was perfect for them. All three of them.
"I'm pregnant" Olivia confessed softly as she drew patterns on his chest one seemingly random night.
"We're going to have a baby?" Fitz asked, not truly believing that his dream was becoming true.
"Yes. But we can't raise our baby with us being us. You, the president and me the mistress. Even if you don't seek another term, we will never have peace and I can't live that way?"
"So what are we going to do?"
"I've been thinking and the only thing I can come up with is to fake our deaths and move to somewhere that doesn't exist," she said jokingly. But as they both let her statement settle in, it seemed like it was their only choice.
"I've missed you too," Fitz responded as he planted a kiss on her lips and his hand on her 8 month pregnant stomach.
He hated that he missed seeing his baby grow inside of her, but knew the time apart was necessary. The one thing that was nonnegotiable was missing his child's birth so six months apart seemed fit. Fitz took in his environment. He saw the blue waves behind him lap against the sand, the cloudless skies, and the array of lush fruit trees that their house was nestled in. And in the middle of it all was Olivia. His love that was literally full of life. And seeing her stand there, he knew that choosing death in order to have life was the best decision he ever made.
AN: How many of you guys thought that they actually died? Cruel to make you think that, I know. But wasn't it worth it? This was inspired by one of my favorite movies The Illusionist. If you haven't seen it, I suggest you do. Let me know what you think my little story by leaving a review below. They are much appreciated.