Somewhere in Vermont
Olivia races down the secure, sterile hospital hallway. Her frantic thoughts will her feet forward. He is awake. He is asking for me. We are going to be okay. Tom nods, "Ma'am," opening the door. She barely notices Cyrus standing on the left side of the room.
She drops her Prada bag into a chair moving as close to his right side as possible. Grasping his limp hand, "Hi."
His adorable lopsided smile is droopier than normal and yet her heart beats faster because she feared she would never see that smile again. "There is my beautiful wife," he slurs.
Her eyes widen and her snaps to the other person in the room. Cyrus blinks rapidly, "There she is…just like I promised. We are going to find the doctors. Give us a minute."
Fitz never takes his eyes off her, "O-kay."
Olivia backs away from the bed and follows Cyrus out of the room. They walk quietly away from the agents on duty. "What just happened?"
He rubs his hand over his head disrupting the thinning strands. "I do not know. He woke up and asked for you but there was a twist."
"Focus, what did he say? Every single word."
He takes a deep breath. "His first word was Olivia. I said I would call you, but we need to get the First Lady here. He seemed confused but I shook it off. He was shot in the head for heaven's sake. Then he got agitated which made him stutter before taking a deep breath and saying I need my wife…I need Olivia. The doctors arrived for the initial exam and encouraged me to get you here to settle him down."
"I," she pauses to center her thinking. "Cy, talk to the doctor in private and find out what is happening medically including course and duration of treatment. I am going to determine what is going on for Fitz. Just you and me on this. Mellie will make everything worse; and I do not have it to give with her any longer."
"Liv, if his mind…the presidency," she stops him mid-sentence.
"Fuck you and your political agenda. I have one goal: the health and well-being of Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III. Any and everything that is not linked to his full recovery is bullshit. Are we clear?"
"Crystal," he mumbles before moving down the hallway.
She re-enters the room and sits on the edge of the bed taking his large hand between her own. "God you are beautiful."
She smiles, "Tell me what you remember."
His voice is scratchy and slow, "Remember?"
"You were shot," she swallows. "Multiple times plus you were in a coma."
"Was I mugged?" His eyes squint and his brow furrows. "The house…were we robbed? Are the kids, okay?"
Olivia's eyes widen, "The kids?"
"I don't understand…our nearest neighbor is five miles away. Vermont is safe…one of the selling points before we bought the land and built the house."
She can see the panic in his eyes, "We are fine…the house is fine. We are in Washington, DC right now. We were attending a gala."
"Oh, for the Innocence Project?"
Before she can respond a medical team walks through the door. "I am Dr. Shephard and this Dr. Edwards. Our team needs to take our VIP for some tests and scans."
"Can my VIP come with me?" Fitz asks.
"I am afraid not, but I will make sure she is here when you get back."
"Thank you. I love you Livvie." He shares with the room before the nurses roll him across the threshold.
As soon as the coast is clear Olivia exhales. "What is happening?"
Dr. Amelia Shephard responds bluntly. "Not a clue. I will know more when we can complete his assessment. However, I need him calm, so we are going to play along with his version of reality until I have a proper diagnosis. Can everyone get on board?"
"Done," Olivia responds with a determined glare.
The doctors exit the room and Cyrus enters with a phone in his hand. "Mellie will be here within the hour. She will never be on board. You have a plan for that?"
Olivia paces, "Find a secure location for her to wait. Tom," she shouts through the door.
"Ma'am."
"I need a new protection team for the First Lady. A team loyal to the President."
"Yes Ma'am." He reaches into his suit jacket and hands her a burner phone. "I was instructed by the President to give you this in the event of severe injury or death."
She looks down at the phone and swallows the lump in her throat. She whispers in response, "Who or what is this connected to?"
"The attorney we visited in New York. I am confident she can answer all your questions." He smiles warmly at her.
"Can I have the room?"
She barely waits for the door to close before hitting send.
"Olivia Pope, I expected your call. I can meet you at your office tomorrow at 9:00 am."
"And you are?"
"Jessica Pearson, old friend and loyal private attorney to Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III."
"He is alive but there may be complications. What did he do?"
"Suffice it to say Fitz always takes care of the people he loves."
"I will see you tomorrow."
Olivia and Cyrus wait anxiously in a small conference room. Both doctors enter and take the seats across from them. "First, he is going to make a full recovery physically. The real issue is his mind. According to him his name is Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III. He is married to Olivia Pope and they have," she cuts off Dr. Edwards.
"We have four children; we live in Vermont…. I make jam and he is the mayor. There may even be a dog," Olivia finishes.
"Holy mother of god," Cyrus exclaims rubbing his forehead.
Dr. Edwards continues, "No dog. There is an orchard and a greenhouse and the materials for the house are from the local quarry. You have three boys and one girl, but we had to stop the interview."
"Why?" Olivia leans forward against the mahogany table.
"He has a clear narrative about his life, but he cannot provide any specifics. He does not know the children's names, or an address or the date of the wedding. The lack of details made him agitated, and his brain cannot afford any unnecessary stress. We gave him a mild sedative."
"We added a specialist with expertise with brain trauma to guide the integration of his alternative reality with the harsh reality that the President of the United States survived an assassination attempt."
"Please do not make any statements to the press other than he will make a full recovery," Olivia interjects.
"No problem. If you will excuse us… we have fuckton of work to do," Amelia explains.
"Liv, we can pull this off. We do a private briefing with the press to keep the focus on his remarkable recovery. If he shows up in the Oval every day no one will be the wiser. You and I can handle his portfolio for the next six months. Once he is himself; he can continue being great."
"You are insane…completely certifiable." She points toward her head, "HE IS NOT THE PRESIDENT! HE IS NOT MARRIED TO MELLIE! HE LIVES WITH ME IN VERMONT WITH OUR FOUR KIDS!"
"SELFISH WHORE!" Cyrus takes a breath. "You want this alternative reality. Well guess what buttercup…you cannot have any of the delusion swimming around in his head. YOU NOR HE GET TO BE HAPPY! You serve the republic, and the republic needs President Grant."