"You left me all alone…"

Olivia Pope – 2x19: "Seven Fifty-Two"

Pieces

His hand hovers above the doorknob. He can hear her on the other side, sloshing around in the water of their bathtub, and his breath freezes in the back of his throat. For once in his life, Fitzgerald Grant III, former President of these United States, is at a loss for words. He can't find them. He's searched the recesses of his mind to find the words that would soothe her but found nothing.

Nothing that would ever make this ok.

She's exactly where he pictured her, shoulders deep into the water. Her hair, with the exception of a few stray tendrils, is tied up in a bun on the top of her head and her eyes are clouded over, lost in this labyrinth that they were stuck in. He kneels beside her and gently runs his finger across her cheek and she leans into his touch.

"You're home…"

"Yeah… I'm home, Livvie."

He wants to say more. He needs to say more. She needs him to say more. They had been living in this silence since they returned from the hospital and he could barely look at her. He couldn't bear the sadness in her eyes and the hollowness in her voice. He couldn't bear to hold her and yet watch her crumble into a thousand pieces before his very eyes.

She had spent her entire life fixing everyone else and yet, he couldn't fix her.

"I really thought that this time would be different, Fitz…"

"I know…"

"I really thought that this pregnancy was going to take…"

"Livvie, it's not your fault…"

"I'm just tired of feeling like I'm failing you."

Her breath comes in short spurts and then it's taken over by harrowing sobs. Without hesitation, he reaches into the bathtub and scoops her into his arms. She buries her face into the crook of his neck as he carries her into their bedroom, only parting with her for a few moments to retrieve her white and fluffy bathrobe to wrap her in.

"How could you even think that? How could you even think that for a second that you were failing me?"

"You've been different… distant… you've been here but you haven't been present."

"I'm sorry, Liv… I'm sorry… I didn't mean—I love you and I'm sorry if I ever made you feel otherwise."

"I'm not Mellie… you don't get to shut me out… that's not what I signed up for. You don't get to leave me when things are rough. We're a team remember? Through the good and bad…"

He looks down at her, curled up against him with her knees up to her chest. Is that what he's done? Did he leave her? Had he retreated so far into his own grief that he couldn't see or hear her reaching out to him? He presses a kiss to her forehead and pulls her in close, breathing her in. She smells of lavender and vanilla. She smells like his Livvie. Beneath the sorrow, she's still the woman that he loves and she needs him. Everything else comes second.

"I'm not leaving you… ever again. I promise you."

He closes his eyes to force the tears back into their sockets and she tucks her head underneath his chin. They had come together to create this life and they should be able to come together to grieve the loss of that life.

Perhaps they can fix each other.