Mellie stepped out of the sleek black car onto the sidewalk in front of her house, nodding slightly to the two agents who stood alert at the edge of her front lawn. Marcus followed quickly behind her, like a lost puppy. She hadn't spoken a word to him the entire car ride, despite his repeated attempts to explain the situation. Instead, she had steamed in a bitter, sullen silence for fifteen minutes.
Immediately after Mellie opened the door, she heard a scuffling sound, and then the crash of pots as they plummeted to the ground. She strode briskly to the kitchen in confusion, a million possibilities running through her mind. The scene she stumbled upon, however, never came close to her imagination. Charlotte was backing away from the stove, where she had just swept the pots to the floor in a useless attempt to stop Evan's advance. He had strategically blocked her path to the front door, and was slowly stalking towards her, a malicious gleam in his eye. Charlotte almost appeared calm, save for the rapid rise and fall of her chest, as wild eyes searched for a way out. Evan had backed her into the corner where the two counters met; there was no way out.
It took a moment for Mellie to fully register the scene before her, but when she did, she let out a banshee-like shriek.
"Get away from my daughter!" Evan didn't even glance back at Mellie, too focused on his prey, as he grabbed Charlotte's wrist, his other hand flashing to the island, snagging a knife from the cutlery holder. At the sound of Mellie's shriek, the two agents came busting into the house, reaching the scene just as Evan's hand wrapped around the knife handle. Mellie made a move to jump over the island and stop Evan, provided she could cross the distance, but Marcus anticipated her thought process, and wrapped two protective arms around her waist. She struggled against his iron-like grip, but he was too strong for her. Besides, the agents were already tackling Evan before she could spring into action. As Evan was ripped away from Charlotte, he struck out, as if to stab her. The knife made contact with her side, and she screamed as it ripped through her skin. Seconds later, the two agents had wrestled the knife from Evan, and had him pinned to the ground, arms tangled behind his back. Charlotte stumbled away from the scene, falling towards the ground, as Marcus released a still desperately struggling Mellie from his arms.
Mellie caught her daughter before Charlotte's head struck the cold, hard tile. She pushed her hair back from her forehead, rubbing the backs of her knuckles along her daughters face.
"It's okay, baby girl. It's okay. Mama's here." Charlotte didn't respond, and her eyes began to fall shut. That's when Mellie noticed the warm liquid that was trickling onto her hand. In her adrenaline rush, she hadn't been aware of it before, and had assumed Charlotte's scream was due to fear and relief. Now she knew. A new, atrocious panic set in as she watched her daughter lose consciousness, uselessly calling her name. Marcus knelt down to help a nearly deranged Mellie, yelling at the agents to get an ambulance. And that was when Charlotte's world went black.
Mellie's world spun as she rushed down a long white hallway, one hand on her unconscious daughter, who lay in a stretcher, as doctors and nurses called out stats that Mellie was too far gone to even begin to understand. The voices all blurred together as she fought the tears and anxiety. Laying on that stretcher, an oxygen mask over her deathly calm face, eyes closed, Charlotte looked smaller than she ever had. She looked like death was knocking at her door, and as if she maybe wasn't winning the fight. But Mellie couldn't think those things. She had lost one child already, and she'd be damned if her baby girl was going to die right before her eyes like her son did. So, she turned to a doctor, and released all of the emotions she'd been clinging to.
"Why are you all just running around like a bunch of buffoons? Someone needs to do something here!" The doctor was completely taken aback by Mellie's onslaught, seeing as they were all heading straight for the automatic doors the read "OR." However, she was used to dealing with stressed loved ones, and calmly laid a hand on Mellie's shoulder, effectively stopping her from following the stretcher and its entourage any further.
"Ma'am, I'm afraid you'll have to wait here." Mellie sputtered in contempt at being stopped, and a mother's protectiveness overtook her. She pulled herself away from the doctor's grasp, her entire body shaking uncontrollably. The world continued spinning around her as she tried furiously to follow her child.
"The hell I am! I want to go with my daughter." The doctor remained soothing, turning Mellie in the direction of the waiting room.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but you can't. She's going into surgery now, and we will be sure to keep you updated on her progress." Mellie turned to her, her voice suddenly small, as all the fight and fire left her body.
"Is she going to be alright?" The doctor worked up her practiced, comforting smile, as she patted Mellie's arm.
"I'm sure she will be. After all, she is the President's daughter, and he survived a shooting." The doctor tried not to choke on her words, knowing, just as everyone else did, that Charlotte wasn't Fitz's daughter. But what she said worked on Mellie, who meekly turned to the waiting room.
Marcus and Olivia were already there. Marcus stood, pacing the length of the room over and over again, as Olivia sat in a chair, arms hugging herself, a faraway look in her eye. Marcus turned as Mellie entered the room, approaching her silently, as she lowered herself heavily into the seat next to Olivia. She looked at him with red-rimmed eyes, and they both knew that, for now, their current quarrel was on hold. She needed him, she needed his strong arms and his comfort.
"Hold me," she whispered, barely audible. And he did.