xoxo
X
Every major news network discusses the unforeseen event of Ryan's shooting, leaving people with more questions than answers. With a leaked video taken at the scene now spreading like wildfire, his assumed death is slowly but surely taking the world by storm. For some, this is a celebration. For others, it's a prodigious loss.
No one knows of Ryan's condition, and that worries them tremendously because, at the moment, they can't do anything. They're on complete lockdown, and he could be dead as far as they're concerned. And although Ryan's work will continue, they didn't expect him to be missing from their side.
They did this together.
Inside the White House, Fitz, Cyrus, Abby, Danny, and the rest of the administration watch as Curtis Pryce has a heated discussion about the situation with Congressman Shaw on The Pryce of Power. The disconcertment on their features mimics the sickness they feel, disturbed by Shaw's stance on the situation.
"Congressman Shaw, with all due respect, you can't possibly think that Ryan Lewis deserved to be shot! It doesn't fit anyone's agenda!"
"Listen, Curtis. If you fight for something as intricate as equality, you must be aware of the consequences."
"Consequences?" He scoffs in disgust. "I think you're only saying this because of the bills passed regarding discrimination and our police officers. Not to mention the fixing of the courts." He counters.
"These intricacies go against everything you stand for. You got outvoted."
Shaw scoffs. "You can't possibly think that I'm bothered by some African American man who bowed to the feet of the President of the United States. He's the help. It's what the help does. It's what-"
"I'm going to have to stop you there. I will not allow you to slander a black man while sitting on a person of color's show. It's insulting. People like you are what's wrong with this country. You have a long track record of using the backs of black men and women to propel yourself to places of power, and then you shit on them for fun." He slams his note cards down on the glass desk.
"The only difference is that you can't shit on Ryan, which upsets you. It upsets you that someone didn't have to go through you to enforce something needed like a positive change."
"Now wait a minute I-."
Curtis holds a hand up to stop him. "Tell me, something Congressman. Since you believe in consequence, what do you think the consequences would be if the world found out about your bad habits?" He raises a brow, gauging Shaw's perplexed reaction.
"I did my research on you, and you're just as disgusting as Senator Goldman, which makes sense as to why you're so against what the Grant Administration is doing." He flashes a smug smile.
"You are a part of this nation's corruption, and because you decided to come on my show and disrespect someone who wants better for the country, someone who's probably fighting for his life as we speak if he's not dead, you, my friend, will soon know what it's like to have nothing and work for everything."
Shaw scoffs in disgust, heart racing, hands trembling. He could barely look at the camera. He intended to somehow blame Ryan for getting shot to tarnish what the Grant Administration hoped to change in this nation, but it backfired.
Curtis shifts himself to face the camera with nothing but silence between them.
"And that's all she wrote, folks. Tune in tomorrow to see Congressman Shaw's dirty laundry. Is he for everyone as he claims, or only for one?"
As The Pryce of Power ends, Cyrus's phone rings, and he respectfully steps away, answering it immediately.
"Cyrus Beene speaking."
"Hello, this is Dr. Harding. I can't say much over the phone, but I need you and only you to come to the hospital. Can you be here in twenty minutes?"
"I'll do my best." He turns around to see Fitz approaching him. "Can you tell me why?"
"It's better if I don't. Twenty minutes."
The call ends, and bewilderment washes over him, visibly affected as he tucks his phone into his blazer pocket.
"Everything okay, Cy?" Fitz asks, concerned.
"I . . . I don't know, sir. I just received a call from the hospital. They want me and only me to come in twenty minutes but with the lockdown I-"
"Take the bunker. No one will see you exit there. If you can find out some information, then you must go." He nods. "I'll stay here. I have to speak about the events which will allow you to remain unseen. I also have to figure out how the area wasn't secure. So, go."
Cyrus makes his way to the bunker with a nod, nerves rattling, flummoxing thoughts regarding Ryan's life echoing in his mind. Is he alive, or is he dead?
Here's to hoping.
X
Inside The Press Briefing Room, reporters are itching to get the scoop on the shooting and Ryan's current condition. Making his way there, Fitz, accompanied by Abby, go over what they will say to the inquiring minds.
"Sir, I was thinking that I-"
"I'm doing the speech, Abby." He glances over at her. "The American People need to hear from me."
She gives a slight nod. "Have you thought about what you're going to say? They need something to hold them over until we get some answers ourselves."
"The attention doesn't need to be on Ryan. It needs to be on whoever shot him. We need to apply pressure."
"Sounds like a plan. What about the shooter? Any word on how they may have gone undetected?"
"I'm working on that." He sighs. "It had to be someone who knew exactly when we arrived."
"Makes sense. Timing is always key." Her voice trails off. "Do you think-?"
"No. That is not the energy you need to have, Abby. He will be okay, and we need to stay strong for him. Keep your head up and above water until we get an official statement, okay?"
"Okay." She nods. "You take care of the speech. I'll check-in and see if there are any updates on how the shooter went undetected."
With a nod, Fitz heads into the briefing room, and Abby continues to see if she can get more information. Everyone stands up to greet him as he steps up to the podium motioning for everyone to take their seats.
"Now, I know all of you want the latest update on Ryan, but I'm here to tell you that there isn't one and that he shouldn't be the focus. The focus should be on the unknown assailant."
A male reporter raises his hand, and Fitz nods, giving him the floor.
"A lot of people are saying that Ryan deserves it. What's your stance on that, seeing as he's under your administration?"
The comment doesn't sit well with him. "Anyone saying he deserves to be shot for trying to make this nation higher in standard so that we the American people can come together as one has to be moronically insane."
"Most people, including myself, believe that he's just another Olivia Pope in a sense that he's using you to prop himself to the forefront." A female reporter speaks up from the back.
"So, what you're saying is that African American men and women such as them can't do the things they do without needing to use someone to get there?" He raises a brow.
"That's not-"
"If I were a person of color, would you be singing that same tune? Because to me, based on yours and my skin color, I feel that people of color aren't your forte; otherwise, why else would you say something so disrespectful, disregarding not one but two of the people I care about on a personal level?"
"Mr. President, I-"
"Next question. You in the front row."
"Thank you, Mr. President." He nods. "I'm curious to know if you've found the person or persons that did this? Because as a man of color myself, I would love to see justice served."
"We're working tirelessly to find out who did this. With Ryan being a part of my administration and friend, I want nothing but justice for him."
"And if he doesn't make it . . . will you be continuing with the work he's helped you with?"
"One-hundred percent, but please, let's not talk about ifs because he will be okay, and we will continue to strive for positive change. And to the naysayers that feel he's in this for some other agenda, although he's clarified this on his own, know that Ryan Lewis doesn't need the White House to be as great as he is. And to the person that pulled the trigger, you're going to wish you hadn't. Thank you."
The room becomes loud as the reporters call for Fitz to answer more questions, but he simply waves goodbye and proceeds to the Oval Office.
X
"Olivia Carolyn Pope. I can't believe you succeeded in getting Jake Ballard, the mouse without a house, to eliminate your competition. What did you do to get him to say yes?" Eli passes her the salad bowl.
"I told him I loved him." She chuckles, grabbing the bowl and adding a small portion of salad to her plate. "It was the only way to keep him wrapped around my finger aside from telling him I'd kill him."
He laughs, shaking his head. "Olivia, telling that boy you love him was a mistake because now he will expect more leniency."
"Dad." The irritation is apparent in her voice. The last thing she wants to hear is a speech.
"However, all he's ever wanted was to be loved, so the fact that you're effortlessly exploiting that and using it to accomplish whatever you need to shows me that you're getting the hang of becoming what I once was."
She gives a small smile. "Like father, like daughter."
He chuckles. "Like father, like daughter."
A moment of silence ensues as she gazes at him indifferently. Although she smiles seeing him so happy with no weight on his shoulders, something inside her tells her that she should've never come this far. She hears it loud and clear, yet she ignores it because a huge part of her wants nothing but to see her father proud of her and her accomplishments.
And he is, so she thinks, but she's not. Ever since Ryan came to D.C., internal conflict has made her question herself and her moral compass, not because he did anything wrong, but because he's done everything right.
That factor alone dug the knife deeper because what he is, she once was, and now that she's convinced herself that version of her no longer exists, she's spiraling to make up for it by playing this twisted version of chess with the man she truly despises.
She brushes it off, though. She's finally gotten her father to see she can be worth it after years of doing what he wanted and playing his mind games. She's happy knowing he's happy, but she can also feel the guilt lingering inside of her, tearing her down slowly because although Olivia's proud of what she's done, she realizes she went over the cliff. Alone.
"I should've listened to you before." She finally murmurs. "Maybe I wouldn't have been so weak."
"True, but if you haven't been so weak, you wouldn't know now what you need to do to be stronger." He responds.
"Look at you now. You've completely isolated yourself from everyone you cared about and loved because you wanted more. You ruined your loved ones and left them in the dust because you wanted to be the pinnacle of power, and now you are, which will soon transfer to the White House when you are controlling the next President of the United States." So much for avoiding a speech.
"Those attachments you had to your make-shift family and your all-American boyfriend were only stunting your growth, stopping you from becoming the woman you are today, stopping you from becoming command."
And that's when it hits her. Her father isn't proud of her because she's his daughter that did everything right by daddy. He's proud of her as command. And although it's a fucked-up reality, a reality she never wanted, she swallows her pride and accepts what he says, settling for this diluted version of father and daughter.
"I'm glad I could make you proud, dad." She smiles, grabbing her glass of bourbon and raising it. "A toast."
"And what are we toasting to?" He grabs his glass of wine and raises it, ignoring her blatant cries for his approval.
"To power."
"To power." He smiles, clinking his glass against hers.
X
Hastily walking down an empty hall of the George Washington University Hospital accompanied by Dr. Harding, Cyrus's heart beats out of his chest as he thinks to himself, what the fuck is going on? Not once has Dr. Harding mentioned why he's here. Instead, it's been nothing but silence.
Pulling his badge from his lab coat, Dr. Harding glances over at Cyrus as they approach a concealed door hidden from all personnel.
"I know you have questions, and I promise you'll have your answers, but we don't have much time. So, in and out, okay?"
"Okay." He nods.
Dr. Harding swipes his badge. The door beeps, and Dr. Harding holds it open for Cyrus, who walks in, shock filling his body, mouth agape when he sees Ryan in perfect condition. The door closes behind him, and he stands there, completely disoriented.
Ryan smiles. "Hi, Cyrus. We don't have much time, so as much as I would love to stand here staring at each other as lost lovers reunited, I need your help."
"I . . . I'm sorry." He steps closer to him. "How are you not dead?"
"Flesh wound." He lifts the hem of his white shirt, revealing the stitched-up wound on the left side of his abdomen.
"How?" He examines the wound. "I mean, you were out cold. There was blood everywhere."
"I'm caught up in a jaded chess game with Rowan and Rowan Jr., Cyrus. Did you not expect this?" He folds his arms. "You should know what being involved with them is like."
"I do, but you were shot, Ryan!" He exclaims, worried. "You could've been killed, and I would've-"
"Relax." Ryan places his hands upon Cyrus's shoulders. "It's okay. I get where you're coming from, and as my friend, I truly appreciate you for being concerned, but what's one thing you've always known about me?"
"You're prepared for all possible contingencies."
"Exactly. I'm prepared for all possible contingencies." He nods. "So that's why I need your help."
"What do you need me to do?"
"Two things. I need you to get in touch with QPA and tell them to expect a visit from me in a few weeks. That's number one. As far as the world is concerned, I am in critical condition, lying on my death bed with no hope of recovery. The doctors are doing everything possible to bring me back to good health, but I'm unlikely to recover. You are to keep this between us and only us. That is number two."
"I can do that, but they will worry about you, Ryan. Are you sure this is what's best?"
"I'm sure." He nods, grabbing his jean jacket from off the bed. "To catch a mouse, you have to set a trap. This plan is a trap. I'll be back in a few weeks." He smiles, putting his jacket on and proceeding to the door.
"Don't miss me too much while I'm gone." He glances back at him with a smile.
Cyrus laughs, turning to get one last look at him. "I'll try not to."
"See you soon, Cy." He nods, exiting the room and then the hospital.
Exhaling deeply, Cyrus pulls out his phone and exits the room, heading back towards the entrance and dialing up Quinn. It rings a few times before she answers.
"How can I help you, Cyrus?"
"In a few weeks, you'll get a visit from Ryan Lewis. Whatever you do, do not repeat this name to anyone other than your team of rule-breakers."
"Leave it to you to inform and insult." She huffs. "Wait, isn't he-?"
"No questions. Just be prepared." He ends the call, approaching Dr. Harding.
"Mr. Beene, I'm assuming we're good to go?"
"We're good to go." He nods. "Release the statement."
X
As news gets out about Ryan's condition, Fitz sits behind his desk trying to wrap his mind around it while also tending to the updates on the documents he signed off on regarding free college, banning assault weapons, and climate change. Things are moving forward as planned, and he couldn't be prouder.
He didn't have time to think about the situation because he had work and deadlines to meet. As he goes over the information, signing off permission to move to the next step, a knock on the office door attracts his attention.
"Come in."
The door opens, and Mellie walks in with a smile, dressed in navy blue.
"Mellie? How can I help you?"
"I just wanted to talk if you had some time. I called, but there was no answer."
"I can spare a moment, sure." He nods. "Come in and take a seat."
Closing the door behind her, she sits at the desk.
"So, what's on your mind?"
"I'm feeling hopeless about my race to become president."
"Why?"
"I don't know." She huffs. "I just . . . Liv has been so occupied with other things, and I don't feel like she's putting her best foot forward with me."
"Have you talked to her like I suggested the last time you felt down?"
"No." She lowers her gaze.
"That's your problem right there." He smiles. "You're still not communicating with her."
"I don't know how to communicate how I feel with her." She huffs, shaking her head. "She's not the easiest person to talk to."
"Neither are you, but here we are."
She chuckles, as does Fitz. "I'm sorry I keep coming to you about this."
"It's okay. Just try not to make it a habit and make it a habit to handle your problems." His voice doesn't waver. "I mean that in the most respectful way possible. You are fighting to be in this very office. You won't make it if you don't speak up. You won't make it if you don't have any backbone."
He's right. Mellie can't let this very minimal issue affect her to this degree. Her problems with Olivia are hers and hers only, and she must deal with them no matter the drawback.
"You're right." She agrees. "Compared to your work, this is fucking child's play." She laughs.
He chuckles. "Very high school."
"Very high school."
"Anything else?" He smiles.
"Yeah. How are you holding up?" She inquires. "I heard about Ryan. I'm sure everyone has."
"I'm doing what I should be, focusing on my work, but I am disconsolate about the entire situation."
"Do you think-?"
"No." He sighs. "Until they say he's gone, he's still alive and fighting."
"You've always been so hopeful. How do you do it?"
"It's simple. Find something or someone to be hopeful about."
X
"Run away with me." Jake blurts out, sitting across from Olivia in her office.
She chuckles, glancing up at him from her phone. The look in his eyes, he's serious.
"What?"
"Run away with me." He leans over the desk. "Let's escape it all. Go away to an island where we can be who we want to be without worrying that something detrimental will happen. We can be free, Liv, because this isn't freedom."
"What's this about, Jake?" She sets her phone down, crossing her legs.
"You know what this is about."
"You want to run away because I asked you to handle Ryan after attempting to kill him yourself?" She raises a brow.
"Yes." Although he knows he never pulled the trigger, he nods. "There was no legit reason to go down that road, and now a man is going to lose his life because you-"
"Eliminating the competition to get into the White House has always been the game-plan. I don't know why you're surprised."
"What did Ryan have to do with you and Mellie getting into the White House? He hasn't been in your way, but you couldn't let another person shine because you're so jealous and insecure."
Anger rushes through her veins, lips quivering/ She rises to her feet, hands planted firmly on the desk.
"You're judging my choices when you have done much worse?" She chuckles. "You want to talk about jealousy and insecurities, then let's talk. Do you want to know why we never work out, Jake? Because you aren't half the man that Fitz is. You sit here complaining to me like some bitch baby when you should be standing in the truth of what and who you are as a man." She sneers.
"I don't have time to babysit you and make you feel strong and manly. I have enough on my plate! You're just as insecure as they come. The mention of Fitz's name makes you overcompensate. The mention of Fitz's name makes you sing a different tune because you and I both know that he will always be my one true love. You're always in his shadow, and you still are, even with him and I separated."
Although he shows no reaction, her words hurt, for they confessed their love for one another, but now he sees that he served his purpose and she got what she wanted.
"Good to know, Command." He smiles, rising to his feet. "You know what I find funny? You mention standing in truth as if you're standing in yours. Yes, I'm very insecure and jealous. That's no secret. But at least I'm able to admit that. I've done nothing but stand by your side after you pushed everyone away, and you still treat me like I'm disposable, but at the same time as if I'm your pet. You do whatever's necessary to get what you want, but you don't care who gets hurt." He chuckles.
"I'm the jealous and insecure idiot in love with you, and you're the jealous and insecure woman who takes orders from a man she hates. Talk about daddy issues. Do you think you're above the fray, Liv? Because the mention of Ryan's name makes you uncomfortable, and when you see him standing next to what you once had, you hate yourself because you self-sabotaged everything. Every single relationship you have is gone. Now he's in critical condition, so you think you've won when you just made the biggest mistake."
"I wasn't the one that pulled the trigger!" She exclaims, unable to acknowledge what he said to her because it's true, and there's no way she can combat it.
He chuckles, shaking his head as he proceeds to the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he looks at a flustered and taken aback Olivia.
"Neither was I." He smiles, opening the door. "Have a good day, Liv."
He exits her office before she can respond, leaving her to her thoughts. Hyperventilating, she angrily swipes her hands across her desk, throwing everything to the floor.
What has she done?
X
Fitz sits on the couch in his office, legs crossed, a glass of scotch in hand. He's thinking about the possibility of never seeing Ryan again. After hearing Ryan was in critical condition, a cloud of sorrow loomed over him from when the news informed him. Now that he has time to think about it, Fitz is afraid he might lose a friend, but he's aware that he's not the only one who'll lose someone important to them.
After making his rounds, Danny enters the office with a folder in hand, closing the door behind him and attracting Fitz's attention. He's visibly stressed and exhausted, but he sucks it up, not wanting to crack in front of Fitz, although Fitz himself is feeling some of the same feelings.
"Mr. President, I have an update on the-"
"Come and take a seat, Danny."
"Sir?"
"That's an order." He raises his brows.
With a nod, Danny proceeds to the couch and sits next to Fitz, setting the folder on the table.
"In the folder-"
"That's not what's on your mind, and you know it." He takes a sip of his drink. "You've been walking around, doing your job, trying to be unaffected by what's happening, but I've known you for some time now to know that you're not okay."
"I'm not." He murmurs in admittance, "but now is not the time to dwell on those feelings."
Fitz smiles, setting his glass down on the end table beside him.
"Well, you're not leaving this office until you tell me how you are because at this moment, I'm no longer your boss but your friend and I want to know how you're holding up." He folds his arms. "Talk to me."
Glancing over at Fitz, Danny let his guard down, relaxing on the couch.
"I'm scared." He admits. "I don't know what else to do, and I'm afraid that he won't make it with him being in critical condition. And I don't want my last moment with him to be when I held him as he fought for his life. I know I have a job, but it's a lot mentally."
"If you aren't in the right headspace, your job becomes a playground for mess-ups." He chuckles. "I appreciate you protecting Cyrus and me that night, but it's okay to feel, Danny. You care for him. I won't hold that against you, okay?"
"Okay." He nods, exhaling softly. "I don't want to lose him."
"And you won't. We won't." He places a hand on Danny's shoulder. "He will pull through this because he has people waiting and counting on him. Don't give up hope yet."
Danny smiles a little, appreciative of Fitz's kind words and way of understanding. Although the feeling of losing Ryan still lingers within him, he doesn't feel as choked up about it.
Rising to his feet, he grabs the folder off the table and hands it to Fitz, who takes it and opens it.
"This is an update on the situation. There were multiple blind spots, one of which could've been the access point where the assailant took the shot due to the rooftop access." He informs. "I'll set up a team and head there myself to see if we can find a bullet casing to give us an idea of the weapon used."
"Perfect." Fitz nods as he goes over the information thoroughly. "Let me know what you find."
"On it." He nods, proceeding to the door. "Thank you, Fitz. For allowing me to vent." He turns to face him, opening the door.
"You always have a place here to vent." He smiles. "Never forget that."
"I won't, sir." He smiles. "Have a good night."
"You too. Get some rest."
X
Pacing back and forth in the living room of her apartment, Olivia contemplates what she's done. Her breathing is irregular, hands trembling with fear and guilt. She realizes there's no way to return to who she once was, free of darkness and manipulation.
She's too far gone.
Afraid she will lose herself for good, she suddenly thinks of calling someone she hasn't spoken to in years— her mother, Maya Lewis. Before their relationship turned sour due to Eli constantly whispering in her ear, Maya always gave her the best advice, and right now, she needs some.
Rushing over to her red Prada bag sitting atop the coffee table, she pulls her phone out, swiping to Maya's contact. She stares at the word Mom in bold lettering, heart palpitating irregularly. She thinks to herself, what if she doesn't answer? What if she hates me? What if I mean nothing to her?
But she takes a chance.
Pressing call, she paces back and forth as the phone rings. The dial tone seems longer, heavier, filling her with instant regret. She wants to hang up and tries to; however, Maya finally answers, and the sound of her voice calms Olivia's quivering lips and palpitating heart.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Olivia Pope. How may I be of assistance today?"
"I was just calling to see how you were doing." She moves to sit on the couch. "I know it's been a long time-"
"It's been years, baby." She chuckles. "So, why are you calling me? What has Eli done this time?"
"It's not about-"
"Girl, please. I don't think you give your mother enough credit, but look who's raising you."
Olivia gets defensive. "My father-"
"Is a lonely, power-hungry, manipulative man who's latching on to you because of the power you wield. You don't think I know him?" She laughs. "There is nothing about Eli you can tell me that I don't already know."
"He's proud of me." She's in denial.
"Oh, honey." She laughs, causing Olivia to shift uncomfortably. "I'm sorry to burst your little bubble, but he's not proud of you and never will be. He's proud of what you've become, and you've become him from the sound of it. You're craving his acceptance this badly after everything he's put you through, including keeping you and I apart is baffling."
"I have not become him!" She retorts, irritated. "I am not a monster!"
"When you hang around monsters, you become one, and you, my baby, is the definition of a monster. Your daddy made sure of that. You're unhappy, completely concealed from yourself, trying to claw your way out only to wind up surrounded by more darkness." She chuckles.
"You are an empty vessel feeding off the pain you inflict on others, and to top it all off, you've come to hate yourself because that small glimmer of light you had is now gone, and you don't think you can get it back."
"You don't know what you're talking about." Her voice wavers, eyes watering as she sinks into the couch.
"I'm a mother. I know what I'm talking about."
"I didn't call you to be scolded. I didn't call you to talk about me. I called you-"
"You and I both know that's bullshit, Olivia. You can't fool me. You're in a tenebrous position in your life, and you called me to help you. So, a word of advice, this feeling you're feeling right now will only worsen if you keep compartmentalizing it." She continues.
"Admit to yourself that you're just as fucked up as your father, and then admit that he has inspired your actions because, baby, the lid is coming off, and when it does, you will feel what it's like to hit the ground with no cushion."
Olivia ponders what she means, silent as she drifts into her thoughts. She can't seem to find a way through them, however. She's trapped.
"What do you mean?"
"I hate when you try to pretend to be so clueless." She laughs. "I mean that the day of reckoning is coming, Olivia. Keep an eye on the clock because time is ticking, baby, and karma," She huffs.
"We both know it's a real bitch."