Fallout

The winding hall that had led him outside seemed to go on forever! Fitz didn't remember it being so long when Tom had led him from the opposite direction. He ran as fast as he could, trying to get to Liv. He had heard more sounds of gunfire, but this time it was several loud shots at once. Imagining the shooter or shooters pointing their guns into the crowd and shooting randomly made his stomach churn. It also turned his thoughts to Olivia's stomach and the person who might be living in there.

He ran faster.

Before he came to the open room of the ballroom, Fitz was met with dozens of people running wildly. They were trying to exit quickly and keep themselves safe. It was akin to a herd of wild animals. He noticed that they were looking over their shoulders every so often to see where the threat was and if it was close to them. They were pushing against him and giving him crazed looks for trying to head in the direction of the danger.

He was not about to turn around and follow the crowd. Fitz pushed against them like a fish swimming against the current, making little headway. But he was making headway and that kept him going. "Get out of the way!" he yelled at them. It didn't help.

The replies he got were, "are you crazy?" "There's a shooter in there!" "RUN!" "He's going to kill us all!"

He didn't care what was going on in the next room, Fitz had to get to Liv. He knew she'd be surrounded by Secret Service agents, and the most protected person in attendance, but he had to see it for himself. He wouldn't be able to convince his heart to stop hammering out of his chest until he laid his own eyes on her.

Fitz just thought what he had been dealing with was bad. When he finally broke through the anxious, shoving, terrified people in the hall and entered the ballroom, he witnessed mass hysteria. People were crying, screaming, bleeding, in shock, and various other degrees of reacting with what was happening. The shots had stopped and that made him wonder if the perpetrator had been caught or killed or had escaped.

His eyes searched the room to look for any sign of Olivia or Will, but he saw nothing other than hundreds of people who were scared to death and trying to get outside. He spotted a familiar green gown. Miranda. Shit! He had forgotten all about her once he had gotten Olivia alone. Fitz made his way over to her through the throng of people.

She had her back to him, and once Fitz reached her he touched her shoulder. She turned around slowly. It was like something out of a horror movie. The front of her dress was covered in blood and she wore a look of glazed calm. She was in shock. Fitz knew she'd need to get seen by the paramedics, but he wanted to know where she was wounded.

"Miranda? Hey, are you alright?" he asked calmly.

"Hmm? Yes, I'm fine. There were some loud noises earlier, but they seem to have stopped now." She turned around as if to look for them.

"You have blood on the front of your gown. Where are you hurt?" He led her to a nearby chair and forced her to sit down.

She looked down at her dress and her face crinkled in confusion. "I'm okay." she stated blandly.

She was in no mind to know if she truly was alright. Fitz began to search for the wound. There were no holes in her dress though, and the blood seemed to be spattered. Like it had come from the person Miranda had been standing near when a bullet hit him or her. He squatted in front of her. "Did you see who got shot?"

"The President..." she mumbled before she passed out. Fitz caught her in his arms and stood up to find out where the hell Olivia was at! He had to see her!

Stalking towards the door with an unconscious Miranda in his arms, he found a uniformed man standing at attention. He'd probably have no luck getting information out of him, but he had to try. "Sir? Can you please tell me where the President is right now?"

The man stared at Fitz and then looked away without saying a word.

Fucking hell! He needed answers!

A paramedic came to Fitz and asked to look at Miranda. He set her down on the floor and waited while they checked her over. Finally, one of them said, "she's not injured. She's definitely in shock though. We'll take her to the hospital where we can keep her under surveillance overnight. It may take a few minutes to get her loaded into an ambulance because we have to check for the critically wounded first."

"Has anyone been taken to the hospital yet?"

"The President and First Gentleman were taken moments ago." Fitz opened his mouth, but the paramedic was faster. "Please don't ask me if they are wounded because I can't tell you that."

"Can you tell me which hospital they were taken to?" Fitz practically begged. He saw that he was about to be told no once more and he couldn't take it. "Please. I work for them. I'm not going to harass them I just need to know if they are alright."

The paramedic sized Fitz up and came to the conclusion that he was harmless. "They are at County General. They had to go there because the wounds are serious, and time was of the essence. That's really all I can tell you at this point. I wouldn't go to the hospital. Co-worker or no, there are armed guards at all entrances to the hospital and they are being very selective about who enters. If you're not injured, you're not getting inside. Now, until I come back for your friend here, you need to keep her legs elevated and make sure she stays warm."

"What about the shooters?"

"It was just one man, and he was killed by Secret Service, but not before he did some real damage and hurt a number of people. If we could get this crowd to settle down things would go a lot smoother. Look, I've got to go check on other people. I'll be back for her as soon as I can."

"Thank you." Fitz told him. He got on the floor, took off his tuxedo jacket, and spread it over Miranda before putting her head in his lap. He spoke soothing words to her to keep her calm, but inside he was anything but. His mind was full of Olivia and the serious wounds the paramedic had mentioned.

His mind conjured up all kinds of thoughts about Liv in the hospital. He imagined that she was clinging to life hooked up to all sorts of beeping machines. He wondered if she was being prepped for surgery? Being operated on? Having a machine breathe for her? Fitz closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face.

No!

He emptied his mind of all negative thoughts about Olivia. He refused to entertain the idea of losing her. She was fine. He kept his eye open for the returning paramedic just the same. When he took Miranda to the hospital, Fitz was going to ride with her and that's how he planned to get to Liv.

Twenty minutes later, Fitz and Miranda were in the back of an ambulance headed for the hospital. Miranda was wheeled into the emergency room and Fitz went to get information. He stopped by a nurse's station to ask questions, but they were tight lipped about anything pertaining to the President and First Gentleman. He should have known better.

Sighing, he headed back to the waiting area in the emergency room. Maybe by the time they were done checking Miranda and had gotten her into a room someone would be able to tell him something, anything at all, about Liv. He heard a familiar voice loudly commanding answers be given to him. Fitz's head snapped up to see Cyrus Beene stalking down the white corridor with a look of steel determination on his face. He saw Fitz and made his way towards him. "What's going on?"

"I...I don't know. They won't tell me anything! I don't know if she's hurt or in surgery or..." he gulped and refused to say the word out loud.

"I just got here and don't know anything either. Traffic was ridiculous the phone lines are all jammed."

Cyrus regarded the fixer. The man was in pain. Emotionally. It didn't matter if he liked Mr. Grant or not, he was obviously worried about the...Olivia. There was a big difference right now between Olivia Pope, leader of the free world and Olivia, the woman. This fixer, as big of a pain in the ass as Cyrus thought he was, was standing in front of him stripped away from his polish and calm, cool, collected exterior. He was nothing more than a man in love, by Cy's best guessestimation, and worried beyond all reason about the woman he loved and her safety and well being. Her title wasn't part of this equation.

Cyrus had never been Fitz's biggest fan, but he liked him a whole hell of a lot more than the asshole Olivia had married. He looked the tall man up and down, hoping he could find a reason to walk away and forget he saw him in the hospital to begin with. The fixer wasn't here for selfish reasons. He just wanted to know that Liv was alright. Cy had a feeling that he wouldn't rest until he knew one way or another exactly how she was. The look of love was all over his face. The desperation and worry were there too, but the love shown through very clearly. His romantic side was going to be the death of him. Sighing loudly, and hating himself for having a soft side, Cyrus rolled his eyes and said, "follow me."

Fitz nodded and followed Olivia's Chief of Staff. He knew that Cyrus had never really warmed up to him being around all the time, and he wondered what had changed the Chief of Staff's mind to allow him to go where Olivia was? Fitz wished he cared enough to ask, but he didn't want to jinx it. Instead, the two of them speed walked toward another armed man standing at the entrance of a wing of the hospital.

Cyrus held up his ID badge and the armed guard eyed it closely. When his eyes flicked over to Fitz, Cyrus said, "This is Fitzgerald Grant. He works for the family. He needs to know how badly the President and First Gentleman are hurt so that he can make a statement to the press at the White House this evening. He will be running point on this one, so get used to his face. I'll get him a clearance badge within the hour."

The armed guard nodded slightly and then stood aside.

"That was a good lie." Fitz told Cyrus' back. "Thank you."

Cyrus stopped walking and turned around, taking a step closer to Fitz. He pointed his finger at the fixer and said with an angry look, "that...wasn't a lie. You are going to run point on this. You are going to address the press corps within the hour, and your visit here will be a brief one."

"Oh" Fitz replied, completely in shock.

Cyrus jerked his head back and scowled at him. "Oh? Is that all you have to say to me for getting you in to see the First Family so soon after a major incident?"

"I'm sorry, Cyrus. I didn't mean..."

"You didn't mean what? To have romantic feelings for the President of the United States?"

Fitz kept his composure and listened intently to the older man ramble about what he thought he knew.

"Or you didn't mean to assume I'd do all of this for nothing? You WILL address the press corps at the White House about all of this. You will address them every day, keeping them updated on the situation and the severity of it until things calm down. They know your face from the campaign trail and you're a smooth talker. I assume that's part of what makes you so good at what you do for a living. Now, do we have a problem, Mr. Grant?" Cyrus stared at him with raised eyebrows.

"We do not." Fitz assured him. "But let's get one thing clear, Mr. Beene. I am not your puppet. The President and First Gentleman are more than clients to me. They are friends." He was stretching it by including Will in the friend's category, but Fitz would say just about anything to throw Cyrus off the Fitz and Olivia love trail. "I'm here because I am concerned about them and want to make sure they are both okay. Nothing more."

"That's cute" Cyrus chuckled humorlessly. He turned around to resume walking towards the hospital room. "If you agree to the terms then keep up with me."

Naturally, Fitz kept up.

The two men stopped outside a hospital room where another armed guard stood at attention. He looked both men over and then stepped aside to let them in. Fitz was anxious to get inside and find out what the hell had happened and how bad it was, but Cyrus stood in his path and said, "let me go in first and assess the situation. I'll come back for you after I've been updated."

"No." Fitz told him.

Cyrus cocked his head to the side and squinted up at him. "I'mmm sorry. Did you just tell me no?"

"I did."

"Do you want to go in there and find out what's going on? If the answer is yes, then you'd better get used to this hall until I get an update."

"I'm going in that room with or without you, Cy." Fitz firmly told him. "And if you try to stop me or block me in any way, I'll expose your little secret while I'm up on that podium in front of the press later on."

Cyrus was about to ask him what the hell he was talking about. He had so many of them buried and wanted none of them to come to light. Still, he reacted like he had no idea what the fixer was alluding to.

"There's the secret where you slept with one of the Secret Service agents who used to be on POTUS detail. The secret where you went to a reporter and leaked information about an upcoming vote on the hill. I also know about you helping Will to make sure that his secrets never come to light." Fitz said, leaning closer to keep his voice low. "Now. Tell me one more time that I have to wait to see Olivia and I'll start talking."

How in the actual hell had he learned all of that? Cyrus was the master at hiding things. Or so he thought. Maybe it was that freakishly scary guy who works with him? He shot an angry glare at the younger man before leading him into the hospital room.

The conversation, the threats, and the anger immediately subsided as the two men practically tip toed into the small room. As they walked further in, they found Olivia lying on the small bed. There was a faint beeping sound coming from a machine near the narrow hospital bed Olivia was lying on. Her left hand was wrapped up but that was the only sign of an injury that Fitz could see. He tried to keep himself calm and not imagine the worst, but the constant beeping was eerie, and he wanted nothing more than to climb into the tiny bed and gather her into his arms and never let go.

A nurse came into the room and excused herself as she went to the President's side and took her vitals. "She's just sleeping." the nurse said in a low voice. "She was given a sedative shortly after she arrived."

"Her injuries?" Fitz asked anxiously. He was going to have to work on calming himself down before speaking or asking about Olivia. If it was easy for Cyrus to see, then it would be for other to see as well. It was difficult to seem blasé about the situation when the only woman he ever loved was lying in a hospital bed a foot away. He took a deep breath and let it go.

"Just a sprained hand. It was the result of Secret Service toppling her to the floor and shielding her from any stray bullets. We wrapped it up for her because it'll be tender for a few weeks."

"And her husband?" Cyrus asked.

"I'll let the doctor know that you have arrived. He will be in shortly to give you that information." She left the room and for the first time since the whole thing had started, Fitz began to breathe a little easier. A sprained wrist wasn't so bad. Olivia would be back at work before long.

He was standing beside her bed looking down at her. She looked so small and fragile. Nothing at all like the bold, fierce, badass Fitz had seen Olivia be too many times to count. The need to touch her was overwhelming. Glancing to his left, Fitz noticed that Cyrus had his head down and his fingers were busily touching the screen of his phone. It was now or never. He sat down in the chair beside her bed.

Flattening his hand against the thin white blanket covering her, Fitz timidly slid his hand in her direction. When his larger fingers reached her tiny warm ones, he grazed her fingertip once before thinking 'to hell with this' and slid his hand underneath hers, holding her hand. Resting his head on their joined hands, Fitz fought the urge to cry. His whole world immediately felt a little more balanced.

A few minutes later, a short balding man entered the President's hospital room and Fitz quickly released Olivia's hand and got to his feet. He introduced himself and shook hands with Cyrus and Fitz. "My nurse told me that she updated you on the majority of the President's situation."

Fitz and Cyrus exchanged a confused glance. "There's more?" Cyrus asked.

"Let's step out in the hall to talk and let the President rest."

Fitz wasn't sure he wanted to hear whatever was going to be shared by the doctor.

The three men left Olivia's room and went to the small empty waiting room nearby. They all sat down in the ugly hard plastic chairs. "I apologize in advance if I come across as nervous. I've never been in this situation before. Since there is no immediate family here, what I'm sharing with you is confidential information."

"We understand. We both work very closely with the President and her privacy is of utmost concern." Cyrus told him.

"The President's arm will heal just fine as most sprains do with time. However, she was pregnant when she came in."

Fitz stopped breathing and listened more closely. Liv is pregnant. He wanted to grin and pass out cigars and be every bit the proud dad to be that most men are when they find out they are expecting a baby. He wanted to hold Liv close and tell her everything would be alright. That they'd figure something out together. That this baby was the best thing to happen to both of them. Her dream was now becoming real.

But he couldn't do any of those things because he wasn't supposed to be the dad. Certainly not a proud one. And Olivia was in a hospital bed and there were a thousand unanswered questions about what had happened that needed to be answered. He wanted to talk to her more than anything else.

"Did she lose the baby?" Cyrus asked anxiously. He knew that babies were political gold mines. Nothing makes poll numbers soar higher than a baby does. "She's mentioned more than once that she wanted to start a family."

"She hasn't lost the baby yet, but I'm afraid it's only a matter of time..."

Fitz got to his feet and nervously ran a hand through his hair. This couldn't be happening! He quietly sat back down.

"...The stress of the situation has been difficult on her body. Not to mention the fact that she was brought down to the floor rather abruptly by her Secret Service agents, who were doing their job to protect her at all costs. On top of all that, her age is a factor to consider as well."

"How far along is she?" Cyrus wanted to know.

Fitz already knew the answer to that question but sat silently and waited to hear the confirmation.

"Just a few weeks. I doubt that she even knew yet, it was so soon. We will keep the fetus under close observation while she's here."

"If she only has a sprained wrist, then why is she sedated? It seems a bit severe for something so mundane." Cyrus said.

"Will the sedative hurt the baby?" Fitz asked. Cyrus shot him an angry look, but Fitz kept his eyes on the doctor. Someone had to speak for the baby, and since Fitz assumed the baby was his, he knew it was his job.

"The sedative will not hurt the unborn child. The medication will leave the baby's system just as it leaves the mothers. There is no increase in birth defects either. Put your minds at ease, gentleman. I thought about the fetus before giving her the sedative."

Looking at Cyrus the doctor said, "As for why she was sedated, the President had minor injuries when she was brought in. Her husband however, had much more serious ones."

Cyrus and Fitz exchanged a look. It hadn't occurred to either one of them to ask about William until now.

"The President wanted a list of names of all the attendees at the party who had been wounded. Demanding it really. She was screaming and in tears. Inconsolable. Nothing mattered more to her than knowing who was on that list. Naturally, no one had access to that information at the time. Still don't as far as I know since the wounded are still being brought to hospitals in the area. We caught her trying to leave her hospital room several times and found her on the floor near the nurse's station once. She said she had to know if he was hurt or shot or worse. I assumed she was referring to her husband and she became very agitated when I tried to get her back into bed and give her an update about the First Gentleman. She fought me every step of the way.

She was demanding information I couldn't give her, hysterical, covered in the blood of her husband, and she was wounded herself. She wouldn't let us look at her until we gave her the list of the hurt and dead from the party. Since her safety and well being is the most important thing to this country, we had no choice but to sedate her.

"You made the right decision, sir. If the President wasn't allowing you to do your job and take care of her, then your resolution was the correct one. As her Chief of Staff, I appreciate your dedication to her health and making it a top priority, no matter the cost."

"Thank you, Mr. Beene. I appreciate..."

Cyrus didn't need another person kissing his ass. He had plenty of people at the White House who did a much more thorough job at it for much less money. He had to get information. The country needed answers and it was his job to get them. There wasn't time for small talk. The nation had to be informed before a wide range of speculation became the topic of discussion instead of the facts. "Now, what is the update on the First Gentleman?"

The doctor spread his hands in front of him. "Again, I am at a loss at how to proceed. Generally, this type of news is delivered to the spouse first, but that isn't an option at this time."

"Just spill it, doc!" Cyrus spat out impatiently.

Fitz put his hand on Cyrus' shoulder and squeezed none too gently. "I apologize for the Chief of Staff. He's under a lot of pressure right now to produce answers for the country about what happened at the First Gentleman's birthday party. The names of the wounded and dead will have to be released to the public after the families are notified. Answers as to how this could have happened to begin with will have to be addressed as well. The status of the First Family is something the country will need to know to prevent chaos and market failures.

Camera crews from news outlets all over the world will try to get inside the hospital to catch a glimpse of the President or First Gentleman. I think it's best to keep them outside until they leave. Then they can film all they want. Don't you agree?"

"That isn't possible." The doctor replied firmly.

"If you think for one minute that you're going to be a hard ass and try to run point..." Cyrus sputtered with a pointed finger at the man in a white coat.

"Mr. Beene. Mr. Grant. I'm sorry, but it's not possible for that to happen. And not because I'm trying to do something underhanded."

"Why isn't it possible?" Fitz asked. That sinking feeling was in the pit of his stomach. Whatever the doctor was going to say was serious. Like, maybe Will would need months of therapy before he was able to walk? Or he would never walk again. That was not a scene that needed to be played on a loop for months. He sighed loudly.

The doctor looked between Fitz and Cyrus with a weary expression. "That can't happen because the First Gentleman is dead."

Cyrus squinted at him as if he hadn't heard him correctly. "What do you mean dead? He can't be dead! He's the first First Gentleman of the United States of America! Go check again!"

"I'm very sorry, but William Swann died from his wounds. He had been shot twice. Once in the chest and once in the neck. The shot in the neck hit his carotid artery. The paramedics kept him alive until he got to the hospital where he immediately went into surgery. He succumbed to his injuries and died shortly afterwards. By that time, the President had already been sedated."

"So, she has no knowledge that her husband is dead? Or that she is pregnant with a fetus who is barely clinging to life? Is that what you're saying?" Fitz asked.

"That is exactly what I'm saying. The two of you are the only people who know both of those things. Do you understand my hesitation for sharing this information before their families found out?"

Fitz got to his feet and started to make his way down the hall.

"Where do you think you're going?" Cyrus yelled angrily at his back.

He never turned around but answered the old man as he reached a door. "When...the President wakes up, she is going to want answers, and I intend to give them to her."

Cyrus scrambled to his feet and ran towards the fixer. Standing in front of him, he quietly hissed out, "You are not going to be anywhere near her when she wakes up! Do you hear me? I won't allow it!"

"I don't give a shit what you think you're going to allow me to do, Cyrus." Fitz quietly spat out at him. "When Liv was asking for a list of people who were hurt or killed at the party after she got here, she wasn't asking about Will. She was asking about me, and you know it! That baby she's pregnant with, the one who is teetering between life and death, is mine. And I'm sure you know that too! Just like you seem to know about everything that is said in that big White House. Even in the residence. It's all very concerning. How is that, Cy?"

Huck seemed to appear from out of nowhere and was making his way towards the two men in a staring contest. "Fitz!"

That was enough to pull Fitz from his trance like state "Huck? What the hell are you doing here?"

The scruffy faced man pulled his boss in for a quick hug and pounded him on the back. "I heard about what happened at the party. I had to make sure you were okay."

"How in the hell did you find out about that and how did you get..." Cyrus began in an angry tone. The look Huck gave before the questions could be finished quieted Cyrus down immediately.

"What do you need?" Huck asked Fitz and led him a few steps away from Cyrus.

"I don't need any..."

"I know. About you and Liv." Huck whispered.

"How in the hell..."

"Really?" Huck asked with a bland stare.

"Okay, but..."

"It doesn't matter. I know. Now what do you need?"

Fitz had no idea how Huck had learned his deepest secret, but he felt relief wash over him instead of fear that Huck knew. Getting his thoughts together Fitz said, "I need to sit with Liv uninterrupted until she wakes up so I can tell her everything she needs to know."

"You got it." Huck replied. Once Fitz had entered Liv's hospital room, Huck shook hands with the guard at the President's door and watched him quietly walk away.

Cyrus's eyes were on the verge of bulging out of his head. He strode confidently to Fitz's only employee and demanded, "what did you say to make him leave his post of guarding the President's room?"

Huck clasped his hands together behind his back and stood rock still. "He's taking his dinner break."

"He doesn't get a dinner break!" Cyrus exploded.

"Tonight he does. We were in black ops together and I saved his life one night. He told me years ago that he owes me a favor. A favor I could cash in any time I want. No questions asked." Huck patiently explained.

Cyrus extended his right hand towards Liv's doorknob.

"Do not touch that door." Huck quietly warned the Chief of Staff without looking at him. "You should have people to question. Statements to craft. Stories to spin. You need to get ahead of this and make sure none of it blows back on the President. I'd get busy with any of that if I were you.

Now Huck looked directly into Cyrus' eyes, giving him a lethal glare. "But you are not going in that room."