Dedicated to Hannah (olitzaf), who gave me the inspiration to write this fic. It started out as a little idea and quickly grew into a huge one-shot. I don't think I have ever spent so much time writing a one-shot, but this story has been extremely amazing to write. I hope you all enjoy it!
Inspired by the 4x16 promo and Fifty Shades Of Grey.
Princeton University, 1996
I was twelve.
"Liv?" A voice quietly called. After a few moments of silence, the voice tried again, only this time louder.
"Olivia!" Olivia tore her gaze from the political science book in her lap to her prodding roommate. Truthfully, she hadn't even been reading it. She couldn't seem to concentrate on anything recently.
"What Georgia?" She replied, a hint of annoyance in her voice. The brunette sighed.
"You've been staring blankly at those same two pages for the past ten minutes. What's up?" Olivia closed the book with a sigh and sat up.
"Nothing. Just a boring chapter." She dismissed half-heartedly. Georgia put down her journal and walked over to take a seat next to her roommate on her bed. She reached over and rested her hand on Olivia's knee. She knew her friend did not like to discuss feelings, god forbid be touched, but she wanted to figure out what had been bothering her for the past three days.
"You know you can tell me anything." She said sincerely, looking into Olivia's eyes. Olivia looked down at the hand resting on her knee. She wanted more than anything to be able to open up to her, but years of pain and self-defense prevented her from opening up even the slightest to her. Instead of coming clean, she buried her feelings with another white lie.
"I'm okay. Just stressed with school, that's all." Georgia wrinkled her brow.
"Liv, you're at the top of our class. That's not what's bothering you." She murmured.
"Doesn't mean I'm not stressed! I'm not Albert Einstein."
"Close to it." Georgia said with a smirk. Olivia rolled her eyes and looked over at the clock on her bedside table.
"I have my Modern Political Communications class in ten minutes. I have to go." Olivia rose to grab her coat and bag off of the hanger.
"I am rain checking this conversation." Georgia said, locking eyes with Olivia's distant ones.
"Sure." Olivia responded quickly before dashing out the door. Georgia shook her head.
"She doesn't have Modern Political Communications on Thursdays." She mumbled to herself with an exasperated sigh.
Olivia hoped that a long walk around the Princeton University campus would clear her mind. It was a beautiful, mild day and all of the students were home from Spring Break. The light flow of wind kept her energized as she walked past the various dormitories en route to the center of campus. Reaching into her bag, she found her CD player and fumbled with her headphones. The player unexpectedly snapped open and fell to the ground with a resounding thump. Olivia sighed loudly and crouched down to pick up the various pieces that had scattered around the site of the incident. She fought back the tears that threatened to fall as she tried to piece her only escape from reality back together. After a minute of fighting with the Walkman, she heard steps start to walk toward her. A young man bent down and helped her clean up the remaining pieces.
"This is definitely a goner. Sorry to break it to you." He quipped. She ripped the broken CD player out of his hands and shoved it back into her purse.
"Jeez, no need to be rough sweetheart." She rolled her eyes and threw her bag over her shoulder.
"Sorry, rough day." She mumbled, shifting her weight. He raised an eyebrow.
"Well, if you're interested, Greek Row is hosting a huge blowout party tonight since we're all back from break. Might make your day a little better." Olivia smiled weakly.
"I don't really do the whole obnoxious drunk-off-my-ass thing. But thanks for the offer." He smiled widely.
"Because Olivia Pope only wines and dines with the law graduates, right?" She pulled her purse to her chest defensively.
"How do you-"
"It's not like you're a dirty little secret around here." He murmured suggestively. She stuck her tongue between her lips and recollected herself.
"I will think about it." She responded.
"Good girl." He said with a smirk. He held out his hand. "Wes Aldritch." She shook his hand cautiously.
"You know where to find me." He said as he walked away. Olivia turned and watched as he disappeared down the path.
Her eyes tore away from him and to the other groups of students gathered in the quad. Everyone was exchanging Spring Break stories excitedly. Groups of girls lied on the grass giggling while the guys tossed around footballs and Frisbees. It was a typical college scene, one Olivia was used to looking at, but not being a part of. She had tons of friends. Even though she was an underclassman, she was captain of the Model UN team, practically ran her dormitory, and even gave private swimming lessons to students from time to time. She was extremely involved on campus, but when it came to just being a typical college student, Olivia sometimes had trouble. Losing her mother at a young age and being sent off to boarding school had forced her to grow up far too quickly. She found herself more gravitating towards the Graduate students, who had already gotten the "I'm-free-from-my-parents" out of their systems. While she enjoyed a good glass of wine from time to time, she never drank to get drunk. It was just nice if she happened to venture into that territory.
Her roommate, Georgia Bellows, was a perfect complement to her. Georgia came from a strict Southern family. She was named after the state of Georgia because her ancestors had fought to their deaths on the state's soil. Despite her parents being ride-or-die Republicans, Georgia tended to be very moderate. And even though her family was strict, they loved her more than anything else. It was something that Olivia was always envious of, especially after going down to visit them in Arkansas with her during Spring Break.
Olivia had not known where to go for Spring Break. She dreaded it every year. While many kids went home, she did not feel as though she had a home to return to. All of her friends from boarding school were scattered miles from her house, she barely had a relationship with her father. There was nothing to return home to. She could have visited friends at other universities or gone on vacation, but none of it seemed worthwhile. She usually spent her break with the international students on campus, walking around the ghost town to run down the clock. However this year, Georgia would not have taken no for an answer even if she hadn't agreed to go to Arkansas.
The first couple days with Georgia's family were amazing. The Southern food made even Olivia want to eat until she passed out. Georgia's father entertained them with a lively discussion about politics at dinner, much to Georgia and her mother's dismay, but Olivia enjoyed talking about her passion with people other than the students in her classes. Georgia had introduced her to her two horses, Chestnut and Hepburn, and taught her how to ride. They walked for miles through the countryside talking, watched sunsets and counted stars. For the first time in her life, Olivia was enjoying her Spring Break. Until the third night of her stay, when she remembered an anniversary that was looming.
Her mother's death.
Olivia never talked about her mother's death with anyone. A week after her passing, her father sent her off to boarding school. The list of reasons he cites for sending her is long; she's heard it a million times over. It never convinced her that it was a good choice. It buried her feelings deep down, but that meant that they were always trying to break out of her. Sometimes they threatened to drown her.
The next morning, she watched as Georgia and her mother cooked breakfast together. How Mr. Bellows kissed his wife before he headed off to work. How Georgia's older brothers Mitch and Calvin teased her lovingly. It formed a mass at the bottom of her stomach that still remained. She did not know how to handle how she felt. She didn't know if she wanted to scream, cry, drink her sorrows, or hide.
She always would wonder what her life would have been like had her mom survived that flight. It was always something that was in the back of her mind. Now it was at the front, and she did not like it in the slightest bit. Politics was shoved to the back, and no textbook or lecture could bring it back to the front.
Now standing in the middle of the quad, Olivia wondered if she should attend the party. She deserved to have a good time. Her father wasn't paying for Princeton, she had gotten a full ride. She owed him nothing. She didn't owe anyone anything. She could allow herself to be a typical college student for one night. Damn the repercussions, she decided, you are only young once. She felt her protective layers slowly fade away as she took the long route back to her dorm.
"Liv, why are you dressed like a stripper?" Georgia asked, baffled. Olivia turned away from the mirror with a small smile on her face.
"Too much?" She asked. Georgia's eyes were wide.
"Who are you and what have you done with my roommate Olivia Carolyn Pope?" Olivia laughed giddily.
"I got invited to the Frat House Row party tonight by a guy named Wes Aldritch." She informed her, turning back to face the mirror.
"The Wes Aldritch? The biggest Frat boy Princeton University has ever seen?" Olivia shrugged and flattened the material around her stomach.
"I guess so. Am I good in the back? The zipper was snagging a bit."
"Yes. You look…good. Different, but good." Olivia clasped her earrings on tighter and smiled.
"Care to join? I need a hot date to walk in with." Olivia asked as she reached for her clutch. Georgia sighed and pulled on her Princeton sweatshirt.
"Sadly I have a lecture tonight. I'd skip it except I'm bound to fail economics if I do." She groaned and fell onto her bed with a small bounce. Olivia slipped on her heels.
"I'd tutor you to make up for it, but you know math isn't my specialty." Georgia threw her hands to her face dramatically.
"You specialize in life." She complained, moaning again. Olivia rolled her eyes and laughed.
"Glad to see you smiling again. Did this boy manage to get you out of your disconnectedness?" Georgia asked through her hands. Olivia shook her head.
"I wouldn't give him that much credit. I've just decided that I deserve to have a good time."
"Of course." Georgia said, flopping her hands down to her sides and smiling. "Have fun. But stay safe."
"I will. Promise." Olivia replied, patting her on the head. She grabbed her coat and headed down the hallway, eager to let herself go for a night.
Four martinis and an unknown amount of shots in, Olivia was already having a good time. Wes had been a little too excited to see her, but he had finally left her alone at the bar. She shared a few drinks with some of the Model UN girls, excited to see so many familiar faces at the party. The loud music seemed to effectively drown out any thoughts of her mother or politics. While she would have preferred wine to the cheap hard liquor she was drinking, it was doing its rightful job. Suddenly, the song abruptly changed to a song Olivia knew far too well.
Very superstitious, writings on the wall,
Very superstitious, ladders bout' to fall.
Before she could comprehend her actions, she found herself in Wes' arms dancing and singing.
"I picked this one for you. I know that you had a Stevie Wonder Greatest Hits CD in your Walkman." He yelled over the music. She giggled and nodded excitedly.
"I love Stevie Wonder." She screamed, melting into his body. Suddenly, she felt her legs give out. Wes caught her before she hit the floor, carrying her over to a couch.
"Are you okay?" He asked, touching her face. Everything was becoming too much for her: the drinks, the noise, Wes, the thoughts racing through her head. But she couldn't control anything, the tears fell from her eyes and her body shook uncontrollably. She could not find the energy to push Wes away when his lips kissed the tears away and moved to her neck.
"Don't cry Livvie. You're doing great." Her eyes pleaded for someone in the crowd to help her, but no one seemed to notice. Everyone was wrapped up in losing their own inhibitions. She wished that she had convinced Georgia to come with her, or hadn't gone at all. This was all becoming too much for her to handle, and she could do nothing to stop the freight train speeding towards trouble.
That was, until a red-head shoved through the crowd and threw the remainder of her vodka club at Wes.
"What the hell to you think you're doing, Weston Aldritch?" She yelled, ripping him back by his collar. Weston cried out in pain as she tightened the collar around his neck.
"I'm sure Daddy and the Board of Deans would love to hear that the Frat boys are taking advantage of girls rather than giving back to the community. Don't think for a second I wouldn't represent her." He gasped for air as she tightened the collar even more. She put her lips to his ear.
"Now just go back to having a sad, lovely time and I'll take this young lady from here." She let go of her grip and Weston banged his head against the glass table. She smirked in approval and kicked him to the side with her pointed heel. Both boys and girls watched on in complete admiration as the young woman completely took charge of the situation.
"Xavier, Paul, help me escort this girl back to her dormitory please." She commanded, waving over her two guy friends. Still in a daze, Olivia felt strong arms pick her up and help her walk towards the exit. The red-head walked in front of them to pave the way. Once out onto the street, Olivia hunched over and hurled into the grate. The girl held back her hair and kept reminding the boys to hold her head correctly. On the long way back to the dorm they had to stop numerous times, but all three of them were patient. Once in front of Olivia's door, she dismissed the two men and took Olivia into her arms. Responding to loud knocking, Georgia opened the door to find her wasted roommate being held up by a stranger.
"Georgia, right?" The young girl asked. Georgia nodded.
"What happened?" She asked, helping her get Olivia through the door.
"She had a little too much to drink. Wes was moving in on her. My two guy friends helped me get her back here." They laid Olivia on her bed and the girl began to take off Olivia's dress.
"I'm going to need you to follow my directions closely, since I know you've never had to deal with a drunken roommate before. Sadly I've had to deal with this far too many times."
"Okay." Georgia agreed nervously.
"Good. Start running a lukewarm bath. She's going to continue vomiting, but we're going to wash her up as best we can. In my purse there is a bag labeled Hangover Meds. Get those pills out and fill up a glass of water. I don't know if she'll be able to keep them down but it's best we try. And finally, get her an oversized tee to wear to bed."
"Got it." Georgia replied, racing into their bathroom. The girl removed all of Olivia's clothes except for her undergarments and walked her into the bathroom. She settled her down in front of the toilet and held her hair back as she continued to vomit.
"Cheap liquor, always gets the best of us." She comforted, rubbing Liv's back.
"I was s-o- stupid." Olivia choked, resting her head on the edge of the toilet.
"We've all been there. It's okay." Olivia did not even recognize this girl, but was too tired to question why she was helping her.
"I have the pills and water." Georgia informed, crouching down next to them. The girl helped Olivia swallow the water and pills. After she was sure they went down, she and Georgia lifted her into the tub. They washed her clean with the showerhead and carried her into the bedroom, where they got her into an oversized Princeton tee that had belonged to Georgia's father. Once she was tucked in, the girl gave Georgia specific instructions as to how to handle her in the morning. As she gathered her things to leave, Georgia realized she had never gotten her name.
"I'm sorry, what's your name? I guess I don't know all of Olivia's friends." The girl smiled.
"Abagail Whelan. Most call me Abby. And I'm not one of Liv's friends, but I have a feeling that after tonight I will be." With that, she was gone.
Present Day
Sixty-one souls. For me. Gone. Forever.
She didn't want to think about him. She didn't want to think of the cold, dark cell or of the gun that was pointed at her head. She just wanted to be. If she had to exist in this world, she didn't want to feel anything.
So she put on a black leather dress and goes down to the bar down the street. She is taken back to a Princeton University frat party when the martini is set down in front of her. She thumbs the napkin underneath of it gently as thoughts race through her head. Her finger scrapes the bar as she hears a gunshot ring through her ears. Her body quivers as she brings the liquid to her red lips. With a large gulp, she downs most of the drink in one sip. She bites the olive off of the pick and rests the drink back down on the counter.
"Well what do we have here?" A voice murmurs. She turns slowly and meets familiar eyes.
"Weston Aldritch. Never thought I'd be graced with your presence again." She quips, taking another sip of her martini. He smirks.
"Olivia Pope. Not the lonely girl I was expecting to pick up at the bar." She smirks and circles the drink in the glass.
"Well, my job is very stressful. Sometimes I like to blow off some steam." She replies.
"But you're a wine girl. Always have been. With drinks and men."
You know why I did it.
Her empty stomach lurches at the memory. With a bold swig, she throws the rest of the liquor down and slowly places the glass back on the bar.
"Women like to have fun sometimes. But while in good company." She glances over at him and turns back to the bar to order another drink.
"Excuse me sir, one for me and one for the lady." He says, throwing a ten dollar bill on the table. He turns to her.
"I hope to be better company this time." She holds his gaze for a couple of moments. She knows deep down Wes is an average guy. A normal guy. Unlike the other men in her life, he is the simple asshole you can deal with. He isn't complicated nor wraps you up in chemistry. He's just there. Body, maybe not soul, but he'd be a regret that could be moved past in the morning. The martini is placed in front of her and he holds his up.
"To Princeton University, our beloved alma matar?" She sighs and holds up her drink.
"To Princeton University."
Many drinks and bars later, Olivia finds herself having the time of her life with Weston. He doesn't ask too much, isn't too hasty. He's just there. In a drunken haze, she makes her way to the ladies room to wash up when her phone begins to ring in her purse. She slides down the wall and sits on the floor as she fishes through her purse. When she finds her phone, she is confused to find that it is not ringing or lighting up. Then it dawns on her.
The Fitz phone.
"What the hell do you want?" She answers, throwing her head back against the wall.
"Liv…"
"You expect me to run into your arms after you killed sixty-one people for me? I'm supposed to walk around with that on my shoulders?" She laughs. "You're out of your mind."
"Where are you?" He asks.
"That's none of your damn business Fitzgerald." She yells.
"Olivia, I need you to tell me where you are."
"Why, so you can send Secret Service down here to get me? I'm having a fine time without you and I'd like to keep it that way." She slurs. Fitz sits up in his chair.
"You're in danger."
"I don't need you to save me again." She shoots.
"Who are you with?" He questions.
"I'm done wishing you were the one next to me at night. I'm done waiting for a house and life I can never have. And I'm done wearing the scarlet A and carrying all of this weight. It's too much." She argues, putting her hand to her temple. Silence.
"Please tell me where you are Livvie."
"I have to go." She finishes. She throws the phone into her purse and manages to get herself up. She makes her way over to Weston and falls into his arms.
"Take me dancing Weston." She whispers.
"Weston? Are you sure that's what you heard?" Abby breathes. Fitz holds up his phone.
"That's what I heard until it cut out. Why?" He asks, concerned. Abby quickly grabs her coat and heads out the door. Fitz follows her close behind.
"This isn't the first time she's wallowed in the gutter with that rat." She says, practically running down the hallway. She hits speed dial and puts the phone to her ear.
"Huck, track Liv's phone, now. No questions asked. Do you hear me?" Fitz grabs her arm.
"Good. Call me when you find her location." She clicks the phone off and gives Fitz a look.
"You can't come with me to go beat him up yourself. I handled this once before, I can handle it again." Abby murmurs.
"We don't know who heard her on the phone with me. You need to handle damage control. Have me send my trusted Secret Service guys to get her and I'll handle the aftermath." Abby looks up at him, struggling to trust him. She fishes through her purse and finds Olivia's new house keys.
"She changed the locks. Start running a warm bath." She informs him, pressing the cool key to his hot palm. He nods slowly, placing the key in his pocket. A few moments later, Abby's phone rings.
"O'Rielley's, down on 53rd."
"I'm impressed with how far you've come since your Princeton days. But why did you resign as Director of Communications? You had a good gig." Weston asks, putting his drink back on the coaster. Olivia leans back into the couch.
"I wanted to be my own boss." She replies, taking another swig of her martini.
"I mean, OPA has done well for itself. I see it in the news all of the time. You're Helen of Troy around here."
Helen of Troy, the face that sunk a thousand ships.
She squeezes the glass into her hot palm. Tears prick in her eyes. Everything always comes back to what she's trying to forget.
"Hey." He comforts, caressing her cheek. She looks into his eyes.
"Weston Aldritch." A voice says calmly. He practically shivers at the sound.
"Abagail Whelan." He mutters, turning around. Abby crosses her arms over her chest as two Secret Service agents come out from behind her.
"We're going to take this from here if you don't mind." She says. The agents pull Olivia up and support her.
"I'm fine!" Olivia protests, trying to wriggle out of their grasp. Abby ignores her and takes a seat down next to Weston.
"Let me be clear: you did not hang out with Olivia Pope tonight, whatever she told you is to be pushed out of your memory, and you're just going to go back to your midlife crisis. Got it?"
"We were just having a good time." He defends. Abby pulls a thick file out of her purse and places it on his lap.
"This is everything OPA is prepared to release about your family firm if you do not comply." She pats him lightly on the shoulder.
"Have a nice night." She says with a smirk. She follows closely behind as the Secret Service agents tow Olivia out of the bar. Her whines, protests and giggles are ignored. Abby helps pull her into the towncar as Hal starts the car. She caresses Olivia's head in her lap.
"Why does everyone always have to save me?" Olivia murmurs, closing her eyes. Abby pulls back her hair gently.
"Because we love you."
Abby barely makes it through the door before Fitz is rushing to Olivia's side. On a normal day, his reaction would make her sick, but the situation is anything but ordinary. He might have seen Olivia drunk on the trail, but he has never seen her drunk in desperation.
"What's he doing here?" Olivia complains, pushing Fitz's arm away. Before any of them can save anything, she leans over to vomit onto her carpet. Fitz dashes for the bucket and brings it back in time for round two. Abby rests her on her knees on the floor and holds her hair back. He takes off his jacket and bends down to talk her through it. Abby had never seen the President like this. She could have sworn an hour ago he was mad beyond belief at Olivia. She could not help but to watch him whisper sweet nothings to her, rubbing her shoulder as she continued to empty her stomach. Once Olivia is finished, she struggles in Abby's arms.
"Make him leave." She whines, closing her eyes tightly. Abby looks up at Fitz.
"Help me get her to the bathroom to undress her. Bring the bucket." They make a couple stops along the way for Olivia to get sick, finally making it to her master bathroom. Abby sits Olivia down and tries to get her leather dress off of her.
"Let Fitz do it. He has plenty of experience." Olivia jokes, giggling into oblivion. Fitz seems unaffected as he unzips her slip. Suddenly, he feels out of place seeing her fully naked without her sober consent.
"I'll go get her pajamas out." He offers awkwardly, standing up. Abby nods in approval. She manages to get Olivia into the shower. She strips down to her slip and goes in with her. Sitting her down on the tile, she bends down and washes the vomit out of Olivia's thick hair. She hates seeing her friend this venerable, and she knows she hates being venerable. Her eyes open and close gently as she soaks in the warm water.
"I'm sorry." She whispers. With the patter of the water against the tile, Abby wouldn't have heard it if she hadn't been bent down washing her. Abby kisses her forehead.
"I'm sorry I failed you Liv." She murmurs. Olivia shakes her head.
"I abandoned you. And now I'm not even strong enough to be your Gladiator." She slurs, falling slightly. Abby catches her and pulls her close to her.
"You're Olivia Pope. You can get through this. We all love you." She hums in content and Abby shuts off the water. She pulls Olivia out of the shower and wraps her in a towel before walking her into the bedroom. Olivia falls with a sigh to her bed. Fitz looks at her awkwardly.
"It's not like you haven't seen her naked before. I can't dress her by myself." Olivia drifts in and out of sleep as familiar hands put a Navy sweatshirt over her. He knows her body temperature drops when she has too much to drink and doesn't want her to freeze. Abby slips on her underwear and wrings her hair out into a towel.
"I'm going to go get her pills. Tuck her in." Abby commands, walking briskly out of the room.
Fitz looks down at Olivia. Even when she's broken she is beyond beautiful. Her eyes are closed, so he guesses she has passed out for the night. What he would give to put his face in her damp curls. He can smell her heavenly shampoo from where he is standing. It's an aroma that comforts him yet electrifies his nerves. He picks her up gently and gets her situated under the covers. It seems like yesterday he did not know if he'd ever get to see her alive again. No matter how angry he was, he loved her more than anything in the entire world. Nothing could ever go against that. He ran his warm hand against her pale face, savoring the feel of her skin against his. He had to say goodbye to her before he left. He had to let her know that he was there for her.
Slowly, he leans in and planted a warm, simple kiss against her lips. He knew she probably wouldn't remember it in the morning, but he wanted to nonetheless. With a final kiss to her forehead, he stands back up and walks towards the doorway.
"Fitz?" His heart drops to his stomach. He turns around.
"Liv." He responds simply. She smiles, her eyes still closed.
"One minute?" She asks, reaching her arm out. His heart sinks further.
"One minute." He agrees. He kicks off his shoes and climbs into bed next to her. He takes her outstretched hand into his and brings it to his chest.
"No matter how far away we are from each other, physically or mentally, you will always have my heart." He whispers. He doesn't know if the words register with her, but he can't leave this one minute with words unsaid. She rolls closer to him and snaps into his body like a puzzle piece. He kisses the top of her head and caresses her back gently.
When Abby comes in with the medicine, both Olivia and Fitz are asleep. She knows that Cyrus is probably searching frantically for Fitz. She knows that she probably should not have let this happen. But as she stares at them, she can't help to think that this is what needed to happen. She feels their love every day and knows that they will get through this together, even though the circumstances are not in their favor. She sets the medicine down on the endtable and quietly goes into the kitchen. She walks out a few minutes later with two coffees for the Secret Service agents stationed outside the door.
"Miss Pope is okay?" Hal asks. Abby smiles softly.
"She is now."
I cannot actually believe this is 5,000 words. This story grew way bigger than I ever expected it to be. I know something like this probably won't happen this week, but it was fun to write and dream nonetheless :) Although today we found out that THE RING IS COMING BACK, so maybe this isn't too far off (don't want to jinx anything though).
Also sidenote, I've never been drunk off my butt nor have had to deal with a drunken friend, so sorry if how Abby handles it is a little off. I tried my best!
Make sure to check out my social media accounts to stay in touch, and don't forget to leave a review. They make my days a little brighter. Thank you for all of your support in prior fics, YouTube reviews, etc.
I have my 4x15 review up on my YouTube channel, so make sure to venture over there!
XXX, Becca
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