AN: The following one is a small chapter, only because I didn't feel right combining it with something huge, like what's about to come up in the next couple of chapters. I figured out the main lines of the story and I think you all would be pleasantly surprised. Also, let me know how you would feel about David becoming a bigger character. Anyway, enjoy the short chapter.

David's POV

"Are you fucking serious?"

I am having a whole lot of regrets right now. One being bringing Olivia Pope down to California in the first place. She has done absolutely nothing for this case. Not even getting bail - Fitz literally did that for himself. Olivia has had my respect ever since she got my ex girlfriend Abby out of a bad marriage, but she has been entirely useless for the duration she's been out here on this case.

And now I have the case to myself. Yippee. I'm not even a fucking lawyer. I'm a goddamn police officer. The best I can do at this point is to hire an actual defense attorney and testify as a witness. That's actually all I can do. But I'll stick with hopelessly badgering Olivia Pope for a few more minutes, even though it's past midnight.

"You told me, Liv," I continue, pacing my own hotel room, just down the hall from hers. I feel Jake's glare on me...I cannot believe she brought her fiancé down while she told me she quits. Like he's some type of chaperone, just sitting there sheepishly on the bed, arms crossed. "You specifically told me that you would take this case. Not even five days later, you fucking quit on me?"

"Watch your language, Rosen," Jake finally speaks up. "Don't talk to my fiancée like that."

"And don't you talk to me whatsoever!" I shout at him. Why is he even fucking here? Even though Olivia has been useless, she's still a good lawyer and I want her defending Fitz. He seems...better, when he's around her. Happier. More motivated. "I am not talking to you. Like, who the fuck are you? Why are you here? Can't trust your girl alone for a week?"

"Enough!" Olivia holds up her hand. "That's it, David. I'm sorry for having to quit, but in all honesty, you were in the wrong too. You should have never pressured me to come down to LA...to let you down in the end."

I shake my head. "So what? You're just gonna leave Fitz like that? Why? When you know he's innocent...why?"

She becomes quiet. I'm not sure she knows the answer herself. Finally, Jake rises from the bed and stuffs his hands in his pant pocket. It's past midnight and they're dressed up like they're going to a gala - Fitz in a suit and Olivia in a long, black dress.

"She doesn't owe you an explanation," Jake tells me, grabbing Olivia by the wrist. She doesn't resist. "Goodnight, David."

"Wait!" I call out, but they've already made their way out of the hotel room. I slam the door behind them and lower myself onto the bed, cradling my head into my hands. I am beyond pissed. It's not fair. This is so out of character for Liv. When Abby found Liv and asked her to help her find a divorce lawyer, Liv became her divorce lawyer. She worked tirelessly and relentlessly, just to make sure Abby was okay in the end. Abby is a strong woman, but back then she was (and I don't say this lightly) helpless. Not only did Liv get Abby seven hundred thousand dollars from her ass of an ex husband, she also got him thrown in jail so Abby would never have to worry about him again. Abby didn't deserve that burden - even though we're not together anymore, I know she didn't deserve it. Liv helped her so much. They've been best friends ever since.

I have known her for six years. Has Jake even known her for one? And I just know he pressured her. She was just as determined to win this case before his ugly ass hopped on a plane to get out here. It's borderline emotional domestic abuse. Is it 1970? Am I missing something? Olivia is such a strong woman. I wish she would stand for what she believed in. I know she believes in Fitz. This case. Justice. And I know it's none of my business but I think Jake is really bad for her.

X

"Empty your pockets."

I roll my eyes, not quite understanding how I could give Fitz something through a glass window. But I empty my pockets anyway and walk through the metal detector. When I'm through the other side, I recollect my rental car keys, wallet and phone.

"You may wait at booth two until the inmate arrives," the CO informs me. I obey her and make my to the booth, pick up the black phone and prepare myself. I don't know exactly how I will tell him that Olivia is gone. She's not actually gone (she hasn't checked out of her Pacific Hills room yet) but she's not coming back. How do I tell him that? I have no idea how his mental state is. Nor do I know how it will be compromised once I tell him. I don't even know if he's okay, for that matter.

He finally arrives and lowers himself into the seat on the other end. As far as I can tell, he doesn't look like he got beat up anymore. But it's only been a day and a half. And he doesn't look so good either - he looks like he hasn't slept and hasn't shaved either. He has a little scruff going on that doesn't suit him.

"Look, the man of the hour," I joke, trying to make light of the fact that his face is plastered on every newspaper, magazine and television station in America. "How you doing, buddy?"

"I've been better," he replies, smiling sadly. Fuck, it really is heartbreaking to see him this distraught. "Do you have any news about Gerry's funeral or Karen? What about Livvy? Where is she?"

"Question the day," I chuckle nervously. He looks confused and slightly anxious, so I quickly decide against telling him right away. "What I mean is, she's busy. Her fiancé came into town."

"Why?"

I shrug. "Also another fantastic question. And all I know is that Karen is alive and stable. And Gerry's funeral Isn't going to be for a while. They haven't performed the autopsy yet."

Fitz sighs. I keep on staring at him. He doesn't necessarily look injured but something is definitely off with him. I hope...oh fuck no.

"Fitz," I clear my throat, wishing I wasn't in this position. "You can tell me anything."

"There's not much to tell you," he shrugs.

"Seriously, Fitz," I go on cautiously. "I've read the articles, heard the stories...men in here get a little...you know. And you're obviously a very attractive guy-"

"Jesus, David!" Fitz shouts into his phone. "I didn't get fucking raped, okay?"

I nod slowly, secretly uber relieved. I couldn't handle that. I can barely handle this. "Okay, okay. Just making sure. Otherwise, how's it going in there, man?"

Fitz lowers his eyes. "Honestly? It's hell in here, man. I hate being in the state's custody. Get me out of here."

"I'm working on it," I tell him. I hate seeing him this way. I know we've only known each other for a week or so, but in another life, Fitz and I could be good friends. He's candid and funny in a dark way. That, and realistically, I am the only person who one hundred percent knows his innocence. He is a good person. Not just innocent. Genuinely good.

"Okay," he licks his lip. After a minute of awkward silence, he clears his throat. "David, this is really hard for me to talk about, but I think I have a problem in here. I mean, I know I am an accused murderer and property of the state and all, but I think I have another problem."

"Let's hear it."

He clears his throat once again, not quite looking at me. I can tell he's really ashamed about what he's about to say. I feel bad and I wish I knew that I wouldn't judge him on anything he's about to admit. After a second, he begins speaking again. "I am upset. And not the just-got-accused-of-murdering-my-son upset, but losing-all-purpose-of-my-existence upset. I hate...pretty much everything about myself right now. I don't leave my room...the one time I did, I ended up in a breakdown. I think I have a kidney infection because I can't use the bathroom. The one time I did last night, I had a panic attack. I'm just so...I don't care about it all. About anything. I wouldn't care if I died. I don't say that lightly."

I stare at him. Oh, shit. It really fucking upsets me that he's saying all this because I believe him. Above all, Fitz is an honest man. And I know how big his balls must be to say all this stuff to me, a man he didn't even know until about a week prior. I'm scared, too. Scared because I don't know how deep this depression is. What if he finds a way to seriously hurt himself? What if insists on pleading guilty? What if he truly has no motivation to live his life?

"I'm sorry for throwing all my shit at you," he continues as I just stare at him. "I wouldn't tell you this if I wasn't scared that I was seriously depressed. As of right now, the only people my life is worth staying here for are Karen and Livvy."

I raise my eyebrows. I don't know what he means by mentioning Liv. Are they more than their professional relationship. Did they actually become friends? Why did he say her instead of Mellie? I'm not judging him...I just don't understand. "There are ways to get you the help you need, Fitz."

"No there's not," he shakes his head hopelessly. "The prison clinic doesn't give a fuck about mental health. Unless you're in a coma, they'll give you a bandage and a lollipop and you'll be on your way. But a bandage isn't gonna cut it this time, a lollipop isn't either for that matter. Is it?"

I shake my head. I don't quite know how large this situation really is, leaving me completely clueless on how to handle this.

"Nobody will listen to me," he mumbles. "I'm alone in here. It's scary."

I'll have to take his word for it. I've never been to prison - I've never even been arrested, although i arrest numerous people on a daily basis. I never think on the toll on them. I'm selfish that way, I guess. I've just become so numb to it. Fitzgerald is an eye opener. Even though I'm a guy for justice, I wonder how many innocent people i arrest every day.

I don't know how to help him. I don't know a lot about prison but I guess he's right - they won't help him with his depression.

But if they won't...who will?