I shouldn't be here.
That singular thought bounced around in her head as her eyes focused on the cold white blankness of the ceiling above her. Sleep danced just outside of her reach, refusing to come close enough to be claimed. Her mind was a kaleidoscope of activity, whirling from one thing to next and yet inevitably and always settling on him.
Olivia sighed in resignation. A glance at the bedside clock told her that it was a quarter to four in the morning. With sleep proving to be a stubborn bastard, getting started on the day seemed the best use of her energies.
Her attempt to rise from bed was hampered by the sleep-heavy arm that was draped across her midsection. She turned to look into the face of the man to whom it belonged. Jake was dead to the world and had been for the past number of hours. Collapsing into oblivion was his usual habit after sex, and depending on the intensity of the session, he could be out till well after day broke.
With a private smile, Olivia carefully slipped from beneath his arm and sat up at the edge of the bed. She found his dress shirt where it had been discarded and slipped into it. She then grabbed the near empty bottle of 94 du Bellay and quietly made her way towards the kitchenette.
Foregoing the use of a glass, she took a swig of the wine directly from the bottle and settled into one of the two counter seats. She caressed the bottle's label as if it held a message within that she somehow missed with its sister bottles. The last of the du Bellay from her time on the island, she idly wondered what would happen once it was depleted.
Losing the carefree Julia Baker and reclaiming the familiar Olivia Pope should have been an easy transition, something akin to exchanging new shoes for an already broken-in pair, but it wasn't. Things looked the same, but they felt different. Distant. Cold.
Olivia reached for the remote control and turned on the TV. She desperately wanted to silence the part of herself that refused to let go of him, the part that always drifted back to Fitzgerald Grant. He had been a dull ache while she was away, throbbing just beneath the surface, recalled whenever her mind went idle. Being face to face with him at the Capitol left her grappling with how to restore her tattered equilibrium. The wine and sex with Jake should have set things to rights, but she was instead even more befuddled.
Settling on the BNC channel, Olivia lowered the TV volume and was about to have another taste of wine when her phone vibrated with an incoming call. She reached across the counter top for it and frowned slightly at the unfamiliar number.
"Don't answer it," Jake whispered against her ear, startling her with his proximity. "Come back to bed with me."
"When did you creep over here?" she asked, a smile in her voice. Her attention was still on the buzzing phone.
"Creep? You mean you didn't hear me when I tripped over the table and kicked down the centerpiece?" he asked as he engulfed her in an embrace from behind. "I wasn't exactly quiet."
Olivia looked in the direction of the coffee table and found it and the centerpiece in tact.
"The fact that you had to look tells me how far away you were. Where'd you go?" he asked as he kissed her temple and released her to rub along her arms. "No way I'd take that kind of a spill and you not notice. But then again, you didn't notice that I didn't actually trip over the table. What's on your mind, Liv?"
The wine bottle in front of her brought it together for him. "Our return to the island is but a number away. We can call it quits now if that's what you want."
Olivia remained mum. It wasn't a what on her mind, but a who. His assumption as to her thoughts was not wrong, but neither was it right. This was one of those times when it was wise to keep her thoughts to herself.
The phone vibrated again and Olivia saw that it was the same number. A call coming in this early was never good, and when the caller was this persistent, the situation promised to be a disaster worthy of prison. As tempting as it was to crawl back into bed with Jake, Olivia needed a distraction of the gladiating kind.
"I have to take this."
"Of course, you do."
Giving him an apologetic kiss on his bristled jaw, she clicked on the Answer icon and raised the phone to her ear.
"Olivia Pope."
She slipped from the counter chair and started for the bedroom when she drew up short. "Where are you?"
The elevator chimed as it came to a shaky stop. Olivia dashed out of the cab and onto the fifth floor, her heels tapping loudly as her feet quickly ate up ground. She rounded a corner to find Quinn Perkins pacing outside of one of the hospital rooms and hastened her steps to get to her.
When Quinn caught sight of Olivia, she let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God."
Olivia continued past her to take a peek into the room. "How is she?"
"Stable. Sedated. The few here didn't know who she was until Nurse Ginger decided to enlighten them."
Quinn turned then to look at the red-haired nurse and gave her a facetious smile. "She's a feisty one."
Olivia proceeded into the patient's room and closed the door behind her, completely missing the rest of what Quinn was saying. The room screamed VIP with its plush sofas, hardwood flooring, and sconced lighting. It lacked the stench of illness that clung to the walls of rooms designated for less prestigious patients, but it still possessed a cold stillness that made Olivia break out in goosebumps. Hospitals had a tendency to unnerve her.
Looking down at the unconscious young woman in the bed, Olivia noted her sallow skin and then all the beeping monitors that she was hooked to. The girl's parents were going to be worried and shocked and confused and maybe a little angry. She hoped they'd hold off on expressing the latter long enough to understand what drove their daughter to this point.
Olivia caressed the girl's hand and gave it a slight squeeze before stepping away. The road ahead was going to be a hard one for her, and Olivia was willing to do what she could to soften the upcoming bump. The rest will be up to the girl and her parents.
Quinn was leaning against the front side of the nurses' station when Olivia reemerged from the room. She was still taunting the nurse from earlier.
"Quinn!" Olivia barked when her earlier call didn't gain her attention. "What's with the gun?"
Quinn looked down at the weapon in her hand, appearing to had forgotten that she wielded it. "I had to keep them all in one spot somehow," she answered as she tucked the gun into the back of her waistband. "Confiscated their cell phones and tablets during my brief reign of terror." She motioned with her head towards a small pile on the far end of the nurses' station.
"Huck's got his eye on any communication to the outside that could reveal her identity. Cell, landlines, emails, social media. All being monitored."
Olivia nodded to acknowledge her words and then paced back towards the room to look in on the patient through the door window.
Quinn joined her at the door, and after a moment's pause, she asked, "What now?"
Just then, two men emerged from the stairwell and took up position on either side of its door. The elevator chimed and a swarm of Secret Service Agents emerged from its bowels, followed closely by the President, his First Lady and his Chief of Staff.
"They take it from here," Olivia answered as she straightened her back and turned towards the approaching group.