A/N: Managed to get an update out in all of the chaos I'm currently in. Hope you enjoy. Can't believe I'm almost done with this story after nearly three years. Welp, can't call it done until it's done. I hope you enjoy.
Olivia takes the back stairs out of her apartment building hoping none of the reporters camped out front follow her. Roughly three days has passed since the Washington Examiner ran the story on Fitz and she hasn't known peace since. Her phone hasn't stopped ringing and if one more reporter approaches her, she'll scream. Right now, all she wants to do is get to work and home without anyone recognizing her. What she wouldn't do for anonymity again. She's tried to stay away from the papers and the news. She wants nothing more than to crawl into bed next to Fitz and forget this has ever happened. Thanks to the media spectacle following both she and Fitz, they haven't seen each other since he left that night.
"Liv." She turns her head at the sound of her name as she slips the rear door. It's Huck. "Wait, Liv."
She halts with one foot dangling off the tiny slab of concrete that doubles as a stoop. Her eyes search the alleyway and she catches sight of a photographer adjusting his camera at the end of the alley. Thankfully he's alone. "How the hell did they found out we even had an alley?"
"I can take him down for you. I don't mind," Huck tells her. His fingers flex and Olivia's frowns. She knows he can; she's seen him do far worse.
"It's okay, Huck. I'll –" she pauses, wondering how to finish the sentence. She'll what? Move to Mars at this point? Everyone in a fifty-mile radius knows who she is right now. Her eyes meet Huck's and he nods. He takes the baseball cap off of his head and reaches out to tug it down on Olivia's. Since beginning his job at Bus Boys and Poets, Huck's cleaned up nicely. He's clean shaven and his hair is close cropped. She frowns as the cotton cap crushes her curls.
"We've got to get you out of here before someone notices. Follow me. Quinn's in her car around the corner."
"Quinn? From the restaurant?" Olivia asks.
"She's a friend who thought you might need one. Come on." Huck grabs her hand and together they hurry in the opposite direction of the photographer out of the alley.
Quinn's car idles by a yellow fire hydrant. Huck ushers her in and shuts the door behind her. Olivia's eyes fall onto the photog who's caught on her speedy exit and now runs full speed down the alley in their direction. He isn't fast enough as Quinn peels away from the curb.
"Fuck," Olivia hisses. She realizes she's forgotten her cell in her apartment.
"What? You okay?" Huck asks from the passenger's seat.
"I'm fine. I'm just sick of this shit. I can't even leave my apartment in peace without being called the Whore of Babylon and being stalked." Tears well in her throat and she looks down at her pale blue cotton trousers.
In the front seat of the car, Quinn and Huck remain silent. Olivia watches as D.C blurs around them and reappears with the flow of the traffic. Somehow, she has to get her room all set and sit through a few hours of PD. Nearly thirty minutes later, they sit in front of Saint Gabriel's – it's her first day back since the scandal broke. She already feels judged, gazed upon and under scrutiny. Once she gets behind the ornate doors, she knows it'll only get worse. Fits has tried several times to reassure her of his commitment to sorting everything through, but she knows that no matter what, he won't be able to stop the whispers and stares. The same whispers and stares that already follow her when she's at her father house; they come from the neighbors who watched the ambulance wheel her away.
"Are you sure you want to go in there?" Quinn asks. She cuts the engine and turns in her seat.
"We can take you somewhere else, Liv," Huck adds.
"It's okay. I don't see any reporters here and I need to do some work anyways. I can't focus when I'm trapped in my apartment," Olivia says as she slings her bag over her shoulder and opens the back-passenger door.
"I'm going to stay with you," Huck tells her. He, too, opens his door. Before Liv can protest, he's already in front of her, back straight, arms folded.
Olivia looks at her friend and offers him a somber smile. He isn't going to stay behind.
/
She can feel all eyes on her as she makes her way to her classroom. She passes Fitz's office door to see it closed. Although buzzing with the promise of a school start, the school still somehow feels barren. Her feet move fast, and she keeps her head down. When she and Huck finally reach her assigned room, she takes a deep breath, her chest expanding and contracting, yet still feeling as if there's a small child resting on her.
"You okay?" Huck asks.
Olivia opens her mouth to ask if she looks okay, but is stopped by the appearance William Anderson, the superintendent of schools. He's a stout man with stark, silver hair. He's flanked by Father Beene on his right side. Her mouth immediately goes dry. "Mr. Anderson, Father Beene."
Father Beene doesn't look at her.
"Miss Pope," Anderson says, "We didn't expect you back here. After the little news story broke, we expected you'd send in your resignation."
Her eyes drop to the floor. Of all the things that had ran through her mind in the last three days, being fired had never entered her thoughts. She almost wants to laugh at herself. She almost does laugh. Of course, she's going to be fired. Of course, she shouldn't have even shown her face here.
"My job is—" she starts, the sentence falls apart in her mouth and her composure nearly follows.
"Miss Pope, you'd do well to collect your things and leave before your appearance upsets any parents," Cyrus tells her.
Olivia nods, she can feel the tears sting her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. "I just have to get my things and I'll be on my way."
"There's boxes in the supply closet down the hall," Cyrus says.
"Good luck in your future endeavors." Mr. Anderson smiles. He and Cyrus leave as quickly as they came. Olivia follows behind them, to the door, and watches as they make the trek to Fitz's office. Mr. Anderson knocks on the door and it opens, quietly falling closed as both he and Cyrus enter Fitz's office.
Olivia falls against the doorjamb of her now former classroom.
/
The only place she knows to go is to her father's. Huck and Quinn drop her in front of the Georgetown Townhome she once shared with her father. The street is buzzing with life. Kids enjoy the last bites of summer while parents try to reestablish their various balancing acts of children, careers, and spouses.
Olivia climbs the steps to her childhood home and lifts her hand to knock. Her father's car sits in cobble driveway. A strange sense of déjà vu washes over her and she thinks back to the last time she'd come to this house after her life seemed to go up in smoke.
Despite having a key, she still knocks. Eli opens the door; his face goes from a quiet to a confused. Then he nods. "Reporters are all over your apartment, aren't they?"
She nods.
"A couple have come and gone here, too. Where's the priest?"
The tears that cling tightly to her bottom lids lose their grip. They spill over and she cries. "Did you do it, daddy?" she asks. "Did you tell one of your buddies at the DC news about me and Fitz? Did you tell them about Edison and about me trying to kill myself?"
Try as she might've the last few days, she's picked up several newspapers to read the gossip section. Being political royalty and DC-famed, Fitz is a face everyone knows in DC. His stories become the talk of the DMV area and Olivia can't escape it. What's more, is that she can't escape the parts about her. Everyone wants to know about her – about her parents – her jobs, her past lives. The worst part is Edison. Her face keeps running alongside his with various outlets speculate the extent of their supposed (and very real) affair.
Eli shakes his head. He grabs her wrist and ushers her inside. "Olivia, I might not like that man you seem so smitten over, but I would not use Davis to force your hand. Never. He almost killed you and I've never wanted to hurt him more. You and your therapist decided that I should keep my hands to myself there. But I wouldn't do this to you. We have our disagreements, but you're my child. You…"
Olivia nods, the pain bubbling in her throat and before she realizes it, she's thrown herself into her dad's arms to cry. Much like she did when she was a little girl. "The fired me today." Her words are partially muffled against her father's chest. "I don't think I'll be able to work with children again and everyone thinks of me as . . ." the tears roll down her cheeks, "the whore I am."
"Baby…" Eli hugs her tight. "We're going to find out who did this. We're going to fix it. I'm going to fix it. You wouldn't let me fix Edison, let me do this. Let me end it."
Olivia doesn't say anything, she simply cries.
/
They've fired her. It's the only thing Fitz can think about as he sits in front of Olivia's father's house. He tugs at the dirty blonde curls on his head and swallows around the oversized lump in his throat. They've fired her and he's been placed on administrative leave. He knows the diocese is waiting for the story to die down before they put him back in place. It's what they've been doing to other priests, the ones who've been accused of doing the worst to children.
He bites his bottom lip, tugging some of the skin off. His eyes carry up to the red door townhome. Huck told him that he and Quinn had dropped Olivia off a couple of hours ago. He's kept his distance to try and mitigate the attention on her, but he can't keep it any longer. He's dodged reporters the entire way here and he's going to go check on her. He's going to go into the belly of the beast and see if his girl is okay. He gets out of the car and takes the measured steps to the house. Balling his fist, he's poised to knock when the door opens.
"I knew you'd come," Eli says. The older man looks frazzled, dark circles rest under his eyes. "I finally got her to sleep in my bed. She needs the rest."
Fitz nods, he doesn't even need to see her to know her father's right. "Mr. Pope…"
"I told you if you had any decency you would've walked away from her. I told you."
"Sir," Fitz starts, "I—"
"The last time I saw her this upset, I almost lost her."
"I know."
"I've lost my wife; I am not losing our daughter." Eli's voice cracks slightly. "Do you have any idea who would've sold your story?
"I have an idea, but I haven't figured out what's in it for him yet. He's hard to read."
"Him?" Eli repeats, an eyebrow raised. "Who?"
"Cyrus Beene. He works with us," Fitz says.
"He works with you; my daughter has lost her livelihood because you couldn't keep your pants up."
Fitz's jaw tightened. His eyes darkened and his back straightened. He could feel himself grow angry. "I love your daughter, sir. I'm in love with her. I will make this right. I will."
"For your sake, I hope so."