A/N: Another tough day for the Grants. Thanks for reading.
Disclaimer: I own nothing from ABC's Scandal.
Fitz puts his jeans on and searches through the closet that Friday afternoon for a t-shirt, trying to clear his mind. All he can think about is what's going through Mellie's head right now. What she could possibly be thinking, how she could be feeling.
She had agreed to talk with a specialist today, only if it wasn't in public or at the mansion. She did it only to make him feel better; she had her own means of coping other than therapy. He turned around and looked around their dimly lit bedroom. The soft gray walls, the plush white carpet, the fluffy blue bed, the antique oak chest of drawers, the polka dot lamp that Mellie loved and he despised, everything in the room seemed to stand out and speak to him. He was completely there, had all this power, but could do nothing. He felt like he was helpless, useless, like he had let her down, and he couldn't get past this feeling. His heart felt like it was sinker deeper and deeper in his body, moving from his chest to the pit of his stomach. He quit looking at his dress shirts and pulls out a gray v-neck with light blue long sleeves and puts it on, smoothing it out over his toned body.
He shuts the white closet door and hears the bathroom door open slowly. He turns around to see Mellie with a dark gray cotton towel wrapped around her, startled when she sees him. He pushes the door up more when their eyes meet and he sighs, not even remembering hearing the shower cut off. He knows she can't handle him seeing her, and decides to give her some privacy.
"I'll be in the hall, ok?" Fitz says, his heart shattered.
"Fitz, please…" she begged, not wanting him to go, but unable to let him stay. This was killing her inside.
Her swollen eyes fill with tears again, wishing it didn't hurt her so badly for him to see her like this, even covered up.
'This isn't how it's supposed to be,' she thought.
She knew married couples were supposed to be able to love wholly, simply, be able to see each other both clothed and naked, and love. But she couldn't let him see how hideous she was. She couldn't hurt him like that. She can't even stand the pain when he comes near her anymore. She shook her head in disapproval, hating it was this back and forth game. One day she wouldn't let go of him, needing him to do everything with her, to be by her side every second of the day. The next, she couldn't even speak to him, much less look in his direction.
"It's ok. I promise," he says, trying to be reassuring.
"I just… I want to…" she says, still fighting tears, her voice breaking.
"I know, baby. I'll wait outside," he whispers understandingly.
Fitz goes out into the hall and shuts the cherry wooden door, leaning against it and closing his heavy eyes. He sighs, tired of pretending each and every day that it doesn't bother him, but they both knew it did. He desired to touch her again, to show her how much he loved her in her entirety. He wanted to be able to love her more both physically and emotionally, but even small compliments and hand holding are too much for her to bear these days. He hears Jerry's heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and opens his eyes, seeing him start down the hall towards the upstairs office. Fitz's eyes meet his at the same time as he goes after him, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. Fitz scoffs disgustedly, hating his own father more now than ever, wishing he was dead and feeling terrible for it. He had never wanted that for anyone before. Jerry realizes in that moment that Fitz knows about that night and goes back downstairs quickly, ready to confront Mellie about this later.
Mellie comes out of the bathroom upon hearing the bedroom door close, still wrapped in her fluffy towel. She put on her light gray straight leg jeans and her favorite cream-colored sweater, slipping on her brown leather jacket over it. She puts on her warm sheepskin boots and sits down on the edge of the bed, remembering that night. She wished her anger towards Jerry didn't naturally come out towards her husband. He didn't deserve any of it. Tears start running down her face, desperate for control of her own life again, for some kind of help.
Fitz cracks the door to their room a few minutes later and opens it slowly, finding her sobbing quietly on the bed with her back to him. He steps in and shuts the door, and she gets up, wiping her eyes like nothing happened, and turns around.
"I'm sorry, I forgot you were out there — " she says, standing up quickly, wiping her tears and straightening out her shirt.
"It's fine," he says, walking slowly in the room.
"Just let me do my hair and I'll be ready to go," she says quietly, knowing this is weird for him too.
She goes back into the bathroom to dry and fix her hair, leaving the door slightly open. He watches through the crack, sighing and feeling like his heart is breaking into a million pieces as he sits down on the edge of bed. The bedroom phone rings and startles him, causing him to reach for it quickly. He rests his elbow on his knee as he answers, hoping it's nothing important.
"Fitzgerald Grant," he sighs, slightly annoyed.
"I'm sorry for calling on a Friday afternoon, sir, but the Lieutenant Governor is here and says he needs your take on the updated Coast Guard budget for his address tomorrow," Mike explains hurriedly.
Fitz sighs, knowing his Chief of Staff isn't purposely trying to bother him and is just helping, but wishes he hadn't called. He just dislikes being bothered on his time off with petty questions that he knows Mike knows the answer to.
"It's a beginning step in the right direction to help keep our sea borders safe and keep illegal aliens out. The Coast Guard saves lives every day, and without them, we would not be able to function as easily as we do today. Higher paychecks and lower healthcare rates is the least we can do for them," he fires back into the phone.
"Thank you, sir," Mike says, extremely appreciative.
"You're welcome, Mike."
Fitz hangs up and lies back on the bed, closing his eyes and listening to the humming of the hairdryer. He's ready to meet with the psychiatrist and start getting his wife help. They can't keep living like this.
His wife.
That word always appealed to him, always made him smile. He was bonded to her by love and in spirit, she was his and he was hers, for now and eternity. He was ready to do anything he had to to keep her safe and make sure she was loved.
He hears the dryer cut off a few minutes later and he sits up, rubbing his eyes. Mellie comes out of the bathroom and turns the light off, walking by him to get her purse. He doesn't stare at her as not to make her uncomfortable, but he longed to be able to admire her beauty and hold her again soon.
"You ready?" He asks softly, not trying to rush her. He knew she didn't want to do this.
"As ready as I'll ever be," she says, almost in a depressed tone.
She follows him downstairs after refusing to let him carry her again, and as they get in the truck, he notices she seems sad. More depressed than she has been, maybe it's because she's been in the house all week, he didn't know. He just knew something wasn't right. He cranks up and gets the heat going, then starts the thirty-minute drive back home in silence. Mellie stares out the window, all she can hear is Jerry's sick voice playing over and over again in her head. Fitz can tell she's deep in thought, and knows he has to help her before she sinks deep into depression.
"You ok?" He asks with concern.
Mellie closes her eyes and her body shivers, still cold, taking his free hand.
"Yeah." She lies. "Just thinking."
"So what would you like to do tonight when we get home?"
"I don't know, what did you have in mind?" She asks.
"I thought we could sit by the fireplace, pick out some baby stuff, maybe look at some outfits for the annual Donors Dinner at the university next week," he looks at her with a smile.
"You're kidding," she says in disbelief, her eyes lighting up. She loved to get dressed up for events and was past due to get out of house for a little while.
"Nope. They called a month ago and asked if we would be the guests of honor and say a few words. Dr. Ryde already cleared it and said you could go for a few days," he says happily.
"That's awesome, Fitz. I can't believe you kept it a secret from me this long," she laughs softly.
She smiles and punches his arm lightly, getting a grin out of him. He turns on the radio and they listen to some music all the way to the house. He parks in the driveway and is glad they got there before the therapist did. He grabs his leather bag out of the backseat of the truck and helps Mellie out, then leads them inside.
He plugs up the coffee pot and starts making a pot when he hears the therapist come in the front door.
"Hey, we're in the kitchen, be right there," he yells, headed to the door.
Fitz walks out of the kitchen and sees Dr. Penn in the living room, meeting Mellie. She's dressed in a gray pantsuit and pure white button down shirt, setting her black Prada bag on the couch beside her. He goes up to her and shakes her hand, surprised by her firm grip. He suddenly felt a little underdressed in his jeans compared to her.
"Fitzgerald Grant, nice to meet you in person, Dr. Penn," he introduces himself.
"Same to you, Mr. Grant," she says with a smile.
"Fitz just put on some coffee, it should be done soon. Just make yourself comfortable," Mellie tells her, wanting to keep this casual.
"Thank you. Whenever you're ready to start, we'll start," Dr. Penn says, sitting down across from Mellie, pulling out her notepad, pen, and tape recorder.
Fitz's eyes meet Mellie's in that instant, and to his surprise, he doesn't feel distance between them this time; he feels strength. He knows her question and goes over to her, sitting beside her to reassure her. He puts his arm around her and leans in, whispering in her ear.
"If you want to do this alone, you know it's ok. If you want me to stay, I will," he whispers, his arm gently squeezing her side.
"I want you to be here but...I have to do this alone. Get over this myself. I need... that closure," she says softly, a lump forming in her throat.
"Ok baby. I'll be upstairs if you need me," he says.
He gives her a quick kiss on the cheek and takes his bag, going upstairs to get some work done.
Who was he kidding, he wasn't getting anything done. He was too busy thinking of how to get rid of Jerry. They had to get their hands on those drugs. He went into their old bedroom, opening the door to find their former love shack, setting his bag on the bed and unzipping it. He pulls out his government-issued badge and pistol, putting in a magazine and loading it, missing his old job.
He missed the adrenaline rush, the feeling of constantly being watched, the satisfaction of completing a mission.
He missed the excitement.
He sat on the bed, putting the gun and badge up, looking through the papers he had brought along, then shoving them back in the bag. All he had done today was going through briefings and papers; he had had enough. He checked the time on his phone - 4:30. He put it on silent and laid back, closing his eyes, quickly dozing off.
Fitz opened his eyes groggily, awakened by two things: his slight hunger and the sound of quiet sobs, then laughter. He wakes up enough to stand and looks at his phone, seeing it's 9:15. He throws it on the bed and stands at the top of the stairs, finding Mellie and Dr. Penn talking and laughing, giving him a sense of relief. He decides to not disturb them, knowing they'll tell him when they're done. He goes back into their room and sits on the bed, feeling rested for the first time in weeks.
