Title: Somewhere Only We Know
Pairing: Fitz/Mellie
Rating: T
Summary: Fitz takes care of Mellie in the aftermath of their son's death.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
The ride back to the White House was the longest ride of Fitz's life. He still couldn't believe that his son was gone—that he would never see his eyes or hear his voice again. Their last few days together had been tense and rife with arguments. Fitz regretted that more than anything in the world. If there was any small consolation, it was that they had all come together as a family in the end, and for that he was thankful. As they finally made it back home and the car came to a stop, Karen shifted against his right shoulder and started to wake. She'd fallen asleep on the ride home—exhausted from the sedatives she'd been given and the events of the day.
He looked to his left to find Mellie still awake and staring straight ahead as she had been doing ever since she'd been sedated.
"Dad?" Karen called softly, pulling his attention back to her just as one of the Secret Service agents opened the limo door on her side.
"It's ok, baby. We're home. Let's get you up to bed," he replied.
He helped her out of the car and advised the agent to keep an eye on the First Lady, but not to touch her. Mellie wasn't moving and he couldn't handle both of them at the same time so he made the decision to take care his daughter first because he knew Mellie would be more difficult. Karen was groggy and sluggish, but they eventually made their way to her room where Fitz pulled off her shoes and tucked her into bed fully dressed. He pressed a kiss to her head and made sure she was asleep before making his way back outside to attend to her mother.
"Come on, Mellie. You need to get out of the car and come inside," he said after returning to find she hadn't moved an inch. She didn't reply, didn't move—just continued to stare straight ahead, shivering slightly from the cold air that came rushing in the open door. Fitz crouched down beside the car so he could see her eyes and took her hand in his. "Honey, you can't stay out here in the car all night. You need to sleep."
They'd lost their child and her heart was broken into a million pieces. She'd screamed and cried so hysterically at the hospital that he'd been afraid she'd hurt herself and quickly consented to have her sedated. She'd been through so much—he knew everything now. Raped by her own father-in-law, almost killing herself, being forced to watch him fall in love with another woman, thinking her son was the product of her rape, and now her son was gone. His heart broke for her even more than it did for himself.
"Mels?" he called softly with every ounce of kindness and affection he had in him.
He caressed her cheek hoping to snap her out of her near catatonic state. Despite the fact that their marriage had long been in shambles, he still cared for Mellie. She was the mother of his children. To love them was to love a piece of her, and there was a time when he'd loved all of her with all his heart. Knowing what he knew now, he couldn't help but wonder if things would have turned out differently if he'd just pushed her harder to tell him what was wrong—tell him why she'd shut him out. There was no going back in time and it was far too late for their marriage now, but he could give her tonight. She had always been so strong. Mellie Grant didn't break—she bent, but she didn't break. She'd held on to such a terrible secret for 15 years and she'd still managed to hold together, but now she was shattered into a million little pieces and he didn't know how he would put her back together again.
"Mellie?" he tried again. Finally she blinked slowly and turned toward him.
"Fitz," she called softly, letting out a deep shuttering breath. Her deep blue eyes bore into his as if she was looking for answers there…as if she were looking for him to tell her it wasn't real.
"I'm here, Mels. I'm here."
Tears flooded her eyes and she threw her arms around his neck. He could feel her hot tears soak through the collar of his shirt as he hooked his arms beneath her and lifted her from the car. One of the Secret Service agents stepped forward and offered to carry her for him, but he shook his head. He needed to take care of her, he felt like he owed her that much. He carried her up to their bedroom and sat with her curled in his lap—rocking her while she continued to sob uncontrollably on his shoulder until she was gasping for breath.
"Shhhhhh. Breathe, baby," he whispered softly in her ear as he rubbed her back in slow, soothing circles. "Calm down. Just breathe."
He didn't know how long they stayed like that, but eventually her sobs slowed to hiccups and her breathing evened out. He knew she was exhausted and needed to sleep. As he tucked her hair behind her ear he noticed the blood stain on her jacket and the tiny droplets that were splattered across her neck. It had been a long time since they'd been so affectionate with each other. What she needed now—what they both needed now-was comfort and it was something they could only find in each other's arms. Fitz had lost a piece of himself when he lost his son and Mellie was the only other person in the world that knew what that felt like. She'd lost a piece of herself too.
"You need to sleep, sweetheart. Let's get you to bed," he said as he eased her off his lap.
"No. I-I need to shower—the hospital. I need-," she croaked between gasping breaths as she gestured toward the blood stain on her jacket. Fitz cringed at how raw and painful her voice sounded.
"Of course. I'll give you some privacy," he replied and turned to make his way out of the bedroom.
"Please don't leave me!" she cried as forcefully as her raspy voice would allow. He was startled by the panic in her voice and when he turned back he found her wild eyed and on the verge of hyperventilating.
"I'm sorry, baby. I won't leave. I'm right here," he pulled her into a firm hug and rested his chin on top of her head. "It's just you and me, Mels."
When she'd calmed down again he took her hand and led her toward the bathroom. He walked over to the shower and adjusted the water temperature. He'd expected to find her undressing, but when he turned back she hadn't moved an inch. Knowing what he knew now—how his father had assaulted her—he was at a loss as to how to proceed. He didn't want to do anything to make her uncomfortable or bring back those memories, but she wanted a shower and that couldn't be done fully clothed.
"Mel, is this alright? Can I help you?" he asked as he approached her cautiously and slowly began to push her jacket off of her shoulders. She nodded her permission almost imperceptibly. He removed the remainder of her clothing with great care—being sure to keep an eye out for any signs that she was frightened or uncomfortable.
Once she was taken care of, he undressed himself as well, then led her to the shower and directly under the spray of hot water. With no hesitation he began to carefully wash her body while watching for signs that he was starting to make her uneasy. Fitz didn't know why, but he just wanted to take care of her now—he just wanted her to be alright.
As he grabbed the shampoo to wash her hair, his eye caught the tiny droplets of blood that has splattered across her neck and cheek. Jerry's blood. He wanted to break down, but managed to hold it together and scrub them away. He couldn't break now; they couldn't both be broken and she was already too far gone. By the time he started rinsing the shampoo out of her hair she was practically asleep on her feet.
Fitz took a few moments to quickly wash himself, then towel dried her hair and both their bodies. Leading her back to the bedroom, he pulled out boxers and t-shirts for the both of them. He didn't know why the thought had come to him then, but he remembered that she loved sleeping in his boxers and tees when they'd first gotten married. He helped her dress before dressing himself and pulling back the covers. Silently, they crawled into bed. There was nothing to say. Their son was gone and he was never coming back.
Mellie's eyes closed as soon as her head hit the pillow. She was too exhausted to even cry anymore. With the last shreds of energy she had left she reached back for Fitz's hand and tugged his arm around her waist. He complied easily, flattening his palm against her belly and curling his body around hers until her back was molded against his chest. He waited until he was sure Mellie was sleeping deeply before he finally allowed himself to process what had happened. For the first time, he allowed himself to cry.
He awoke the next morning with a strange but familiar weight and warmth against his side and something soft tickling his nose. He blinked a couple of times and found Mellie lying with her head resting beneath his chin and half her body against him—one leg was entangled with his, her brow was furrowed, and her whole body seemed tense. Her right arm was resting against his chest and she had the collar of his t-shirt gripped tightly in her fist as if he would disappear if she let go. He felt his heart break a little at the sight.
Not wanting to wake her, he carefully pressed a kiss to the top of her head and began to rub her back in slow circles to try and calm her. Eventually, her body relaxed and she released his collar. He decided in that moment that their relationship was going to be different from now on. It was too late to reclaim the romantic love they'd once had, but he still loved this woman all the same. She was his family, his friend, his partner—he wanted that back. They would get through this together.
Fin.