A/N: I posted the first half of this on twitter a couple of weeks ago, but I got an idea at the start of the week and it's consumed my thoughts (to the detriment of my college work), so if this looks familiar, you might have seen some of it already! Also, I am working on the next chapter of all i need… but like I said, this one was persistent!

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It's 3.48am and she's pulled from sleep by racing thoughts of the world ending and terrorists taking over the Oval that have managed to invade her unconscious mind. Her breathing is rapid and shallow, her heartbeat erratic, but his arm is strewn across her waist, the warmth of his soft breaths against her shoulder managing to calm her. He always manages to calm her, so she turns to him, taking him in, this gorgeous man. This gorgeous man who loves even the worst parts of her, even the parts she was scared of, and oh, there are so many parts of her brain she's afraid of. But Fitz is there, and perfect, and ethereal in his sleeping form, their limbs intertwined, his body seeking hers as he rests.

She reaches out to softly trace his features, gently runs her thumb across his cheek bone, creates a soft tattoo with her fingertips just above his eyebrow, worshipping him in the most innocent way possible. She matches her breathing to the rhythm of his and eventually her heart rate follows suit. With him, in the dead of night, she's safe from the world. Her brain is another matter, she can't escape that, but he dulls the noise and it's enough for now.

Her touch draws him from his dreams, and she watches as he stirs, mystified by the process of the best parts of her awakening. Her heart swells at his sleepy grin, knowing it's there because his entire field of vision is her. The adoration he has for her is raw and real and written all over his face and she can't help but smile. A real smile that reaches her eyes, so rare these days except in the sanctuary of his arms.

"Hi," he whispers into the almost darkness, so low she wouldn't hear it except she's mere inches from him.

She doesn't respond with words, simply caressing his cheek once more, her eyes expressing what her lips are failing to.

"I need you to stay good," she tells him then, soothing away the crease that forms between his eyebrows at the words. The late hour renders her vulnerable to the truth she spends the day building up walls around. "You have to stay good, because I'm scared that I can't. All of my hopes… you're the center. And I need to do this, with Mellie. But I'm scared I can't stay good, so I need you to be there for me at the end. I need you to not bleed with me."

He doesn't have an answer for her, can't think clearly enough to formulate a response because his heart is breaking. She hasn't really been here for months, maybe the entire past year, and he knew she was still there, hadn't given up on his Livvie, but he didn't think she knew, and somehow this is worse. She can see where she's going and she can't stop it and he suddenly wishes she was blind to it. He pulls her close instead, wrapping her up as tightly as he can and he knows it's the right thing because she clings back, grasping onto him like the lifeline she just told him he is. It's not enough but it's enough for now, a band aid over the bullet hole she's not ready to face. He sends up a prayer that they'll find the answer soon, to her demons or to everything else that's happening right now, he's not sure which. For now, he'll whisper to her, try his utmost to draw a giggle from her lips, to laugh away the fear that haunts her if only for a millisecond. It's a millisecond better than nothing.

.

In the morning she wakes him with sleepy kisses pressed against the back of his neck. There are still ten minutes until his scheduled wake up call, but she needs him awake now, needs to ask him this before she loses the courage. If she let her mind go there, she'd realize that's what this is - courage, not weakness - but she can't let her mind go there.

He groans then, yawning deeply and rubbing a hand over his face before turning to wrap himself around her, eyes still closed.

"Fitz," she teases, peppering light kisses all over his face, "wake up, I need to ask you something."

This gets his attention, because she hasn't been asking him for anything lately, at least for herself, and his eyes shoot open to find hers inches from him. They say eyes are a window to the soul and it's cliché but nothing less than true when it comes to Olivia, so he can see she's having an internal battle over whatever it is she wants to ask him - two distinct versions of herself fighting for dominance and it's so visible it would be funny if it wasn't so heartbreaking.

"Livvie," he breathes, knocking his forehead against hers, pulling her closer with a hand to her lower back in an attempt to consume her senses the way he knows she needs him to, "it's just me and you here. Tell me what you need, I'll do it. Anything, Livvie. I'll do it."

His voice always undoes her but that low whisper, so soft yet authoritative and unintentionally sensual - it reaches the deepest parts of her, ignites parts of her soul she didn't know existed. She lets out a watery breath, and with it her final shreds of resistance escape.

"I want you to stay here," she whispers, so low he's convinced anyone but him wouldn't have heard. Sometimes, in moments like this, he thinks they have a wavelength just for them, impenetrable to the rest of the world. He's taken aback regardless, the immensity of what she's asking knocking the air right out of his lungs.

"What?"

The doubt creeps back in then. She wasn't exactly expecting an immediate acceptance of the proposal, but she was half hoping for it. She squeezes her eyes tight for a second to quench the surge of anxiety she's feeling, and he waits her out, wanting to give her time to collect herself but praying he's not giving her time to decide to take it back.

When she looks at him again, she's determined. It's now or never, and she really doesn't want it to be never.

"I don't want you to go to Vermont. I want you to stay here, with me."

It's all the confirmation he needs, and it leaves him speechless, so he kisses her instead of answering, long and desperate and full of meaning. When he pulls away, they're both breathless and the silence is palpable.

"Is that a yes?" she asks once she's caught her breath.

"I thought… I wanted to give you space. I thought you'd want to do this on your own, so I was getting out of the way. But, Vermont… that's not the dream, Liv. You're the dream. You and me, having a life together, that's what I want. Of course I'll stay here with you."

She doesn't even realize she's crying until he wipes the tears from her cheek and it makes her giggle, shaking her head at the way she can't contain her grin.

"Thank you," she tells him sincerely, "I don't… last night… nothing else helps. When I get like that, you're the only thing that… I don't think I can do this without you. I don't want to do this without you."

There's so much in her unfinished sentences that he hears anyway. You're the only one who calms me down. Nothing else grounds me.

"Liv, you know I'm always here. Even if I did go to Vermont, I would pick up the phone for you day or night. You know that, right?"

"I know," she nods, but it's unconvincing. "It doesn't matter now."

He wants to tell her again, repeat it over and over until it's ingrained her, that she is worth his time, that she is the single most important person in his life, but she's talking again and he loves how her voice sounds lighter this morning, so he lets her.

"It feels weird, doesn't it? All those years we were waiting for this. How many nights did we spend dreaming about when your term was over? And now it's almost here and we almost didn't… we lost sight."

He lets out a sigh because she's right. He almost moved to Vermont without the person he built the house for. He was so focused on her supposed happiness that he almost left her here on her own when it was clear she was struggling to breathe. She was letting the power get to her head, forgetting what was important. He's not naive enough to think him staying will magically fix that, but he wants to and she wants him too and that can't be a bad thing.

"We'll get there," he promises, gently touching the tip of his nose to hers. "We'll get back to ourselves, eventually. Together."

He's not necessarily in that dark place, but she is and they are two halves of the one entity so his phrasing is accurate in his eyes.

She gives him a smile that doesn't reach her eyes, and burrows herself into his embrace, wanting to disappear into him forever, forget the crazy that is everything other than him. He's okay with that for now, more than happy to be her safe space, so he pulls her impossibly closer, rests his chin on the top of her head.

The phone on his bedside table rings shrilly, effectively ending their refuge, and startling Liv, her breath hitching as she quickly sits up in bed. Fitz thanks the staffer on the other end of the line and watches as she scrambles off the mattress and makes her way to the bathroom. He can see it in her movements that the interruption from the outside world has her defences right back up again. Her breathing is deliberately uniform, her shoulders are tense and he knows if he could see them, her eyes would be cold and blank, and it crushes him.

"Liv," he calls gently, and she stops, instinctively knowing what he was going to say.

"Fitz," she sighs, closing her eyes, unwilling to face him. It's not as easy now, she'll break apart and doesn't have time. "You have to be patient with me. Please be patient with me."

She's pleading with him, begging him to understand what she needs from him, to accept her as she is now, for now. He makes his way off the bed, padding across the room until he's standing behind her, close enough that she can feel his presence without touching her.

"I'll be patient with you, but you have to try. Promise me, Livvie."

"I promise," she gets out, voice breaking, and it's enough for him.

"Okay," he murmurs, reaching out to squeeze both her hips. "Now, let's get Mellie the Oval."

"ThatI can do," she nods, turning her head to meet his eyes this time. "And then we start the rest of our lives."