Author´s note: Sorry for letting you guys wait a little longer for a new chapter this time, but I had to mull this conversation over in my head a little to try and get it right…hopefully. Also, my week was busy, cause I have a social life and all that. ;)

Jennkyle: Well thanks for the nice words. :) And i´d agree on the jeans remark. ;)

LoreneMichelle41: Yes, yes, they do. There are a lot of stored up things that need release and I do not mean to sound dirty here. They just need to get down to the core of this.

Cleo: Aw, sorry there. Neither do I, but there´s so much stuff they need to sort through. Let´s hope this offers a somewhat decent beginning.

Guest: ~hands you tissue~

Umusarah: Call me mean but I see readers´ tears as a personal accomplishment, mwahaha. :) No seriously, thanks for the compliment. :)

Jourdan: Well, you might like this chapter then. :)

Guest: Thanks for your remark on the end of the last chapter. And yes, I am tired of B613 too, but unfortunately problems just disappear.

Clio1792: Thanks for your reviews. :) Really like the "comedy of errors" remark here because yes, this is partly it, absolutely. And nope, running away is certainly not the solution.

Guest: I guess there was supposed to be a review there? ;)

Chapter 16 - Manipulation

"I can´t breathe without you, Liv. I just…can´t."

Her face buried against his crumpled shirt brought back memories, emotionally painful as this moment might be, making her heave in erratic sobs, but memories of the comfort he had given, of how good and secure she had always felt in his embrace, sometimes reluctantly so. She could feel her fingers clasping the fabric of his shirt as she tried to calm down the shaking of her limbs, unable to do so, her own emotions mirrored by his. There was so much pain in this, so many things that needed to be sorted out but bigger than all right now, the need for closeness, at least for a moment. But even when he spoke, he still held her, despite his own raw emotions as she knew, gently swaying as if to sooth her, his head still rested on hers while he was probably staring at a random point near the window.

"I didn´t think you´d come back." So few words, so many things between the lines. I thought you would, when you called me, but then I heard him and my hopes crumbled. Because you tore them to pieces.

"I know." I´m sorry. So sorry. I never wanted you to…get hurt by all this. "I had to. I couldn´t…stay." I am confused, no idea where I am going, because you´re my anchor, you´re who holds me upright and steady.

He sighed. It sounded constrained. As if considering whether or not to approach this sensitive topic. Whether he should swallow his pains or address it head on. Whether it would cause unforeseen damages. "Well you….found someone to stay with after all…"

She stepped away. Drew away from his embrace with an effort and it pained her but she felt the need to address this, head on. Fitz was merely looking at her, and for a moment he looked broken and Olivia wished he would just yell it all out so they´d have a row, a good old row to cleanse their minds and hearts of pain.

"I didn´t plan for that, Fitz. I never …"

He narrowed his eyes, just a bit, cocked his head. "Help me to understand then what you had planned, Livvie."

She heaved a short sigh, did a step back, brushed a hand through her hair. "I don´t…I don´t…didn´t know..I ..just had to leave."

His facial expression became a tad more skeptical, now clearly mixed with disbelief. "You didn´t know? I´m not buying it, Liv. The Olivia Pope I know always has a plan and a backup plan, she always knows how things might turn out and what to do if they don´t go the way she anticipates them." He did a step closer. "The Olivia Pope I love is that strong, confident woman who always knows how things are supposed to turn and how to make them work. How to fix things." His expression had become more confident as he did a step towards her. She stood her ground. He didn´t touch her, just looked at her, slowly pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans the way he always did when feeling (or pretending to feel) suave. There might even have been the hint of a smug smirk on his face and oh how she liked to see that but it seemed out of place, like she didn´t deserve it right now.

She opened her mouth, closed it again, shook her head slightly. What was she supposed to tell him? That this was just what she had wanted, that she had wanted to fix…him, because she had felt beyond fixing them? But she had seen so much pain on his face already, she felt cruel about knowing this might add to it. She stayed silent.

He lowered his eyes with a sigh. "For all the years I´ve known you Livvie…when have I ever seen you speechless?"

"Fitz, it´s not that easy to explain…"

He suddenly looked up, his face pained. "Well, why don´t you try? Why don´t you just give me a chance? Because guess what, unless you do you´ll have to let me draw my own conclusions." His voice had risen, not into the gruff bellowing he´d take with her or Mellie or anyone that managed to upset him to that point, but with the almost desperate tone she knew from the moments when he really knew no way how to handle a situation. Like back then, ages back it seemed to her now, in the White House garden when she had accused him of owning her of leaving her no space to breathe…and he had snapped all that back at her, exposing his most inner feelings and biggest vulnerability.

"Fitz, please…"

"No, Livvie, now you´re listening to me. Because if you don´t explain I will have to. Because you just left when I needed you. And Jake was there, convenient like he´s always there when…" He broke off and Liv, unable to take the pain he was flinging at her, desperately trying to protect himself from it, broke in.

"Jake came with me." She said, now doing a step towards her. "Not I went with him, Fitz." She braved his gaze even though his jaw was set in stubborn anger and pain.

"Well, you ran together for all I know. Disappeared all of a sudden."

"Can´t we just…Fitz, Jake is not even in the picture here."

"Well, he´s in the picture for me." He snapped back, his voice clearly raised now as he flipped up his arms. "He´s been in the picture ever since I heard him in the background because that gave me a lot of room for speculation, Livvie. Of what you two might have been up to while I was…worried sick for you and wondered what the hell made you leave. Quite a cruel thing because your voice exactly what I needed to hear. So why…" He broke off, drew in air sharply, she could tell he was bracing for any possible outcome of his next question. "Why did you come back, Livvie? Why did you come back?" The next sentence lost quite some of the softness of his voice. "You seemed very eager to leave. Just on the top of your head, nothing planned at all. That´s not my Livvie."

She felt something break inside her, the emotional pain just becoming too big because she felt like she was not just feeling her own but his too, because right now Fitz seemed all too eager to make himself hurt. Her, but most of all, him.

"I left because I needed to fix things, Fitz!" Now it was her turn to raise her voice and she did, wide eyed, doing a step towards him. He didn´t flinch. "Because yes, I always know what to do, at least I did. I always knew. I always trusted my gut… I always…fixed things. I just never fixed…me….us. And…and all those things happening around us, happening around you… I realized none of it would have happened, so many…things would not have broken beyond…fixing if it hadn´t been for me to break them first."

He shook his head, pained, not quite understanding.

"What are you talking about, Livvie?"

When she drew another breath she could feel her breathing being shaky, about to break, but strained herself against it. "Me." She said. "you. Us. B613 and my father. My mother trying to kill you. That church… your….Jerry…It all comes back to….I am…I am the eye of the storm."

He just stared at her, mouth open, his eyes full of incredible pain as her own vision blurred. "You…" he said, his voice even, steady…or was it? "didn´t kill anyone, Liv. That was your mother. That were others. Terrorists. Not you."

She could feel a tear fall down her face. She had chosen to run from it all, run from the terribly oppressing feeling of being the root of all evil, that she had chosen the false comfort of a man who as it seemed merely manipulated her to the only one she had ever truly and insanely and fully loved. How could he possibly understand?

"They surround me." she whispered. "And thus us.. I … how could I ever fix things like that? Just by… by leaving and not looking back and taking all that with me."

He sighed, instead of doing what she secretly hoped but knew she didn´t deserve, embrace her again and make the pain go away or at least lessen it. He sat down on a chair, the same chair that Abby had been sitting on earlier. Looked up at her. "It´s not just you." He said. "it´s us. You can´t fix us if you try on your own."

"When was there ever … really an ´us´?" she asked. She couldn´t bear looking down at him and sat on the edge of the bed. "There is you and me but…all the things that keep us away from an…us."

He just looked at her, silently, but she read all kinds of things just in that gaze, not all of them were encouraging and soothing. She thought of Vermont and was sure so did he. She thought of how good they could be together, the things they could do, the things they could achieve and change if only it wasn´t for….so many things. So many people. So many sins of the past. Mellie. Cyrus. The presidency. Defiance. Betrayal. Death. Lies… But love…didn´t love count for anything? She had believed once that love could overcome things. Overcome obstacles. But did she still?

"What about love?" She nearly flinched, touched by how in synch their minds still were, how he would conclude his thoughts the same way. "What about everything we´ve been through? Damnit Livvie, I am mad at you. I am hurt. Because knowing you´re with him after you ran away when I needed you is killing me but here I am talking about us and talking about love. And…even though I am mad I am so crazy for you that I´d do anything. Because I can´t function like this." He broke off, blinked. She could tell he was trying to hold back tears and she felt dreadful. About how she was contributing to his pain. "Why can´t we just…why can´t things just be easy…"

Because you are the leader of the free world, she wanted to say. Because you have a country to run, because you have international crisis to solve, because you have to lead by example, because you should not have people get you off track for dirty laundry they might find. Because you have a wife who…a wife who…who is ready to use you just to get you to function again. That thought, that turn of thinking changed everything. Changed her pain into anger…against … her. How could she have forgotten? How could she have pushed Mellie out of her thoughts already after she had pretty much kicked her out of the hotel room mere minutes ago. And she was certain now, all of a sudden, of something.

"You didn´t know I was here, didn´t you?" she asked, her voice suddenly low.

Fitz just looked up, met her gaze, his eyebrows raised questioningly.

"I… I thought Cy had told you I was here." She went on. "but you were looking for Mellie, weren´t you?" Saying that gave her a stab through her heart, right through the core. What had happened while she had been away. Had the loss of a child, the shared trauma of the rape bonded these two together, had Mellie been able to finally tie him to her? It was cruel thinking of things in such a way but this was…Mellie. He looked away from her and she knew she was right. And she interpreted the avoiding of her gaze as…guilt. It hurt. She got up.

"What are you doing?" he asked, remaining where he was.

She walked over to her purse, opened it. He needed to know, she thought. If she had managed to get him away from her during her absence, if she had somehow managed to turn him against her, since he had not been looking for her and when had he last cared for Mellie enough to throw security out of the window and dash out of the White House at night like a schoolboy, then she would go down with her head held high. She cast him a glance, bracing herself for whatever reaction she might get from him. "There is something you should see." She could tell her voice sounded terribly bitter, accusing even, but was unable to control that part of her. He had just been talking about us but it hadn´t been her he had come to this hotel for.

He furrowed his brow in confusion as she took a folded piece of what seemed to be some sort of paper from her purse. It was folded twice and about the size of her hand. By the time she had unfolded it and slowly stepped towards him she was sure he must have identified it as a photograph even though she was sure he had never seen it. She handed it to him. He turned it, his face turning completely confused. "What is this?" he asked, almost whispering.

"I got these in the mail a few days ago. It´s not the only one."

"This was taken at…" She knew how he could tell. How would a father ever be able to forget the details of his own child´s funeral? This one was a close up from the side, but he´d be able to identify his clothes…and the pain edged on his face. "I bet whoever sold this to a newspaper fetched a fine price for it…"

"Nobody did."

He looked up at her and she once more couldn´t bear to look down but crouched down so their eyes were level. "I…came back because I realized I was selfish when I…when I saw this. But … it was not just a cruel joke to send me these. The person who sent them wanted me to come back. And I can tell it wasn´t because that person likes me too much to have me be away." She couldn´t tell him. And yet she knew he needed to understand even if it hurt. Because he was part of the pain, he was still clinging to Mellie, had run after her tonight but was talking to her, Liv, about love. He needed to understand that she had acted out of despair when leaving, not selfishness, that she had wanted to protect him, that she had been tired and unable to cope with any more emotional suffering, too, yet that she was maybe one of the few people who even cared for his feelings but that there was in particular one who didn´t care for his feelings at all. And who had recklessly used him to get her back. Who would call on someone she had frequently called a ´whore´ (and that included mere minutes ago in a way) … not because she felt sorry and wanted to help, but because she was willing to sacrifice her so called love for prestige. Because she wanted him to function again. Because how could one be a glamorous First Lady if your husband appeared like a broken man who lost control of everything? So she had called Olivia back. In cold blood. Just that. Function. And how was that even love but a love for herself. Narcisism. Nothing more?

He looked at the picture, stared almost, then looked up. "Mellie…"e waFitzsdasdasd