The conference room was sparsely decorated. Graciously, the hospital had laid out a long bar of fruit and pastries. The lack of colors on the walls washed everything and everyone out. While the doctors and nurses implored everyone to eat, none of them touched the bar. There were glasses sporadically placed on the table. Unfortunately, they were not filled with various types of alcohol, which would have been appreciated by all. Sitting nervously at the table, Olivia fidgeted and stared at her glass. She tried to make it turn to wine with her darkened stare. She would appreciate anything more than water right now. They had offered her orange juice but Olivia suspected that would hardly agree with her.

Swallowing, Olivia brought the glass to her lips again and wetted her palette. Her stomach flipped as it touched her parched tongue.

Cyrus had not been able to clarify the news. The doctors' had simply insisted that everyone meet them in this conference room to discuss Fitz's condition. Nurses asked Olivia repeatedly, did she want another sedative? Thankfully, they had offered Mellie the same thing. She hadn't seemed so broken and silly then. She hadn't felt as if they were all waiting to admit her into the psych ward. Olivia had graciously declined. She wanted to remember every detail of this moment. If she was going to feel her heart break, Olivia never wanted to forget it. She needed to feel the pain. She could not feel bits in a stupor and relive it again upon awakening.

As the doctors filed into the room, none of them met their gazes. Mellie had taken the seat across from her. Olviia was grateful for the distance. Despite the closing gap earlier, Olivia found the resentment creeping in again. She knew, despite the circumstances, Mellie would see him first. Dead or alive, Olivia didn't have a chance. Mellie was his wife and the First Lady. Technically, she didn't have any rights to be here. She was a married woman. She was married to someone else. The only people who truly knew about her affair with Fitz sat in this room. Cyrus, Mellie, and Tom didn't need to say a word. Her wedding guests merely had suspicions. Although, she suspected that a denial would be difficult. Plus, where would that get her? She would be labeled the mistress and shoved back into her hospital room. It wouldn't accomplish anything.

Silencing her thoughts, her eyes were trained on the doctors as they discussed the procedure. It had started as a heart condition. They suggested that from the medication in the blood stream, he had been aware of this condition. Everyone, except Tom, sucked in a breath and waited with bated breath. Olivia whirled around and stared accusingly at Cyrus. He glared at her. Neither one of them had known. Olivia bowed her head. She pressed her fingers to her temples and held it in her hands. He was sick. He had been sick and never told her. The irresponsible and selfish bastard. She wanted to pulverize him. Olivia was going to kill him.

Her head snapped up as they explained that the procedure went "well" and their prognosis was "optimal."

A silence descended over the room and suddenly, the room grasped for a piece of fruit or pastry from the center bar. An awkward and quiet laugh shook the room, and no one spoke for a few moments. This small team of doctors had just saved the President of the United States' life. Ultimately, they had saved Fitz's life. Her Fitz. Cyrus grasped her hand and squeezed, Olivia shook her head curtly. He was alive. She released a few shuddering breaths. She could not meet Mellie's gaze. Truthfully, Olivia never wanted to. She regretted every agreeing to the conspiracy that she and Mellie had founded years ago. She could be in the position of power. It could be her that could visit Fitz first. Now, she was at the mercy of a woman who was potentially her sworn enemy.

The doctors stood and explained that they could visit him one at a time. An older doctor, clearly, he was in charge, stopped and turned to their group. His hair was snow white and eyes piercing blue. He reminded Olivia of Paul Newman with his easy smile and handsome features.

He cleared his throat and spoke politely, "He was asking for an Olivia…"

Despite the earlier rustling and low talking, everyone grew still.

Slowly, Olivia stood up from the table on shaky legs.

"I…" She cleared her throat and spoke firmer, "I am Olivia. Olivia Pope."

She was the first to see him.

The details were befuddled. Olivia still couldn't believe that Mellie had relinquished her role as matriarch and allowed Olivia to enter first. Cyrus had escorted her out of the room. Somehow, Olivia doubted that Mellie had allowed her to enter first without a fight. The senior doctor, Cyrus and Mellie had lingered behind in the conference room. There was not shouting but she could hear the conspiring whispers. She overheard the words 'best for him' and Olivia assumed the senior doctor had insisted. For once, she was grateful that she didn't have to fight on her own behalf. Olivia wasn't sure that she could explain to Mellie the magnitude of this. She didn't believe that Mellie could possible understand. After all, how could she? She didn't love Fitz beyond his political career and how much longer did she expect that to continue?

The doctors and nurses attempted to help Olivia into a wheelchair. She nearly snapped at them but the kind older doctor had linked their arms. Slowly, they walked to the floor that was reserved for Fitz and guarded by a team of Secret Service. Tom recognized her immediately. He had been placed outside Fitz's door. He had nodded politely to her and kissed her hand. She smiled wanly and muttered, "Thank you." He refused to accept it and explained it was unnecessary.

An older nurse arrived, she had auburn hair and brown eyes, and she was pushing a cart heavy with medical supplies. The sudden widening of her eyes let Olivia knew that she was recognized. Olivia searched her face to understand how the woman knew her. She and David had announced their wedding in 'The Washington Post,' but it was hardly much of a fuss. After all, no one knew that the President and First Lady attended until they crashed it. It struck Olivia all at once. The guests had surely leaked her admissions when she attempted to guard Fitz's body and insistence to be taken with him. The people that she considered her friends had leaked her most intimate and vulnerable moments.

Fortunately, the woman never spoke. Although, Olivia noticed that her breaths seemed to quicken. She was careful to clean her ring finger and Olivia peered down, her ring was missing. The disappointment or loneliness that she should feel for missing her ring never presented itself. She merely glanced away. The older nurse continued to expertly scrub her hands. Olivia trained her eyes over Tom's head. She swallowed anxiously and observed the thick frosted windows. The blinds were raised and she narrowed her eyes to see the various machines pressed against the windows. She released a solemn breath, no; it wouldn't be good if the president's vitals fluctuated. Her breaths became unsteady at the realization. Fitz was inside.

Her Fitz.

Escaping into her thoughts, Olivia was surprised as her hands were suddenly roughly dried with a thick towel. She blinked stupidly and watched as the woman grasped her hand. Her hands trembled and the woman gently covered hers. Clenching her eyes shut, Olivia bowed her head and released a shaky breath. She hadn't the faintest clue what to expect. She had not expected this. She had not expected the nurse to be kind. Worse, Olivia did not know what waited for her on the outside. She could only imagine what the press had. She was silently grateful that Abby and Stephen hadn't uttered a word. She wanted the truth, but Olivia knew that she would jump to fix everything. She wanted to spare David. She wanted to spare Fitz the pain upon returning to office.

He would live.

The nurse drew the yellow coat over her body and she readily accepted. Olivia offered her a smile, but it was more of a grimace. She swallowed again and glanced down at her garb. She had seen these outfits on medical television shows. Olivia had never believed they would be so thick. She took a deep breath and extended her hands. Easily, the woman snuggled a glove onto her hand and snapped at her wrist. She encouragingly tugged it a bit higher and watched as the glove molded to her hand. Olivia closed her eyes as the yellow gown enclosed her in warmth. The woman inspected her and snapped the buttons on her gown closed. She dug into the final box on the supply cart. Pulling off a crisp blue mask, the nurse timidly pressed it to her face and secured it behind her ears. The nurse nodded eagerly and Olivia smiled weakly behind the mask. She was grateful to the older woman but weary. She couldn't know whom to trust any longer. Would this woman immediately return to the nurse's station and tweet all about helping the 'mistress' into the president's private room? Olivia couldn't be sure. She hated distrusting everyone. She hated not knowing. She hated that her gut had been so insanely wrong about all her guests.

All her friends.

Nevertheless, Olivia graciously walked toward the doors and watched curiously as the nurse opened them with a red button. She stepped through and they were noisily closed behind her. Despite the silence, Olivia knew that she was trapped between these doors and the next. There was a sudden mist and she felt it settle on her exposed skin. She was sure that it was some sort of cleanser. It was suddenly expelled with a loud gust. The wind sliced through the hair, blowing her curled locks from her face, out of the chignon, and away from her head. She blinked as the smell evaporated from the air and back into the vents. She pressed her hand against the blue mask and made sure it was in place again. Glancing over her shoulder, the nurse nodded expectantly and Olivia moved forward as the doors opened.

For a moment, she was frozen.

The doors closed behind her and Olivia took a deep shuddering breath. She was sealed in the room with Fitz. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to look at him. She had spent hours agonizing over what he would look like. Olivia couldn't break the idea of him in his arms. He had nearly died in arms. He had grown so still. She hadn't been able to understand his babbling. Olivia choked on the chirping noises that filled the rooms. She glared at the opposite wall and willed herself to turn. She willed herself to turn, look at him, touch his hand, and do anything that required movement. She was a coward. She didn't want to see him and think of death.

"Come…" He coughed lightly and groaned, "Come here."

He paused and hoarsely added, "Sweet baby."

And like a hummingbird, she flitted across the room and into his arms.


Hello my dear readers and reviewers,

I must express my heartfelt thanks for every review and read. You've been nothing but absolutely kind, welcoming, and so amazing. I assure you that I read every review and often read them repeatedly. They make me so happy. I can't possibly express how much all of you mean to me. Thank you so very much.

As always, none of the characters belong to me. I wish that they did.

I know everyone couldn't believe Cyrus carried a rosary or Mellie and Olivia cuddled (me neither - hehe). My mere suggestion is that I'll always add my personal comic relief within the story. Also, I would suggest to always expect the unexpected, but don't always take it all at face value. All isn't what it seems. (; I could ever make Mellie nice. Hah. Impossible.

Again, thank you all so very much.

I can't wait to hear what you think.

All the best, S