The ride back home was becoming blurry that she can no longer could not tell the difference between the café she would frequent on weekends from the little gelato shop she would often take Teddy whenever he comes over for a visit.

They weren't even moving that fast, she noted. Following Fitz's order, Luther, the secret service agent assigned to them, was told to drive slowly and carefully; but somehow, the familiar street of Rutland that she grew to love was becoming abstracts of hues before her eyes as they move street after street that would lead them home. She wanted to put it down to the weight of the day that was finally getting to her, but she knew it was simply the anesthesia she had received an hour earlier.

As they turn the last corner, a soft wind outside caused a nearby tree to shed off confetti of leaves unto the people who were walking by – their clothes shielding them from the chilly November air that they were having this time of the month. Some were even wearing gloves, surely to keep their hands from feeling numb.

'Yeah, numb,' she thought, closing her eyes as she did. Wouldn't it be nice to feel nothing for a moment? Just tonight, she wants nothing else but to feel empty because feeling empty is much better than facing the sadness that was gripping her heart.

Feeling empty meant she gets to step out being Olivia Pope, the woman who's always up to help everyone, the one who always has the answer, the one who's always ready to fix what's wrong.

Just tonight she wishes someone else would be her own Olivia Pope but even she knew not even an Olivia Pope can fix the baby they just lost.

A sting of pain shot through her when Luther hit a pothole near their gate. She felt the car bobbed a little and had it not been because of the hand that instantly held hers, she swore she would not hear herself hiss from the pain.

"You okay?" she heard Fitz asked beside her. Their eyes meeting briefing before they turned their heads to Luther who offered a whispered apology.

"It's okay. I'm okay," she replied with a voice that could pass as an apology to Luther knowing too well that if it had been any other day, Fitz would be giving him an earful – friendly earful, but an earful nonetheless.

But it's not just any other day – they just had their hearts broken – and realizing that once again gripped her heart once more.

When the car came to a stop, awaiting agents immediately opened both their doors and she instantly hopped off from her seat caring not about the pain that shot from her core.

"Liv," she knew Fitz called after her, his hurried footsteps were an indication he tried to literally reach out for her but she's been outrunning him for years for him to know this is her asking space; so Fitz stood and stayed, foot grounded on their walkway with eyes not leaving her image as she walked to their Vermont home.

As soon as she reached their bedroom, Olivia gently laid herself on their bed, thankful that Fitz opted to have their master suite within the ground floor of their home. She wasn't sure she could make it if they had their bedroom upstairs as the anesthesia was already wearing off but more importantly, she wasn't sure if she could lay down next to a room that was supposed to their baby's.

With a body hunched like a child, her back to the door, and her feet finally free of signature heels, Olivia Pope, the grieving mother, began to sob.

She doesn't know how long she drifted off but when she opened her eyes it was already dark outside. Her eyes feeling heavy as she took in the dimly lit little patio they have outside their room that would lead off to the small family garden they recently set up. As she wakes further to consciousness, her nose picked a familiar scent that told her Fitz had gone inside while she slept in. He even put a blanket on her knowing too well that her clothes will not shield her from the cold.

She remembered not caring to change her outfit when she laid down an hour or so ago. She still has her day clothes on – same clothes that hugged her that sad morrning. A lone tear escaped her eyes as her brain replayed the events she'll pay any amount to forget.

It was just like another day. Like clockwork, she and Fitz witness the opening of a new wing at The Fitzgerald Institute. She remembered standing next to Fitz before tugging his arm firmer than she intended when she felt that first shot of pain inside her belly.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Is it the baby?" he immediately asked, the voice of a protective expectant father evident in his voice.

"I don't know," Olivia replied. Fitz was about to answer when she tightly closed her eyes as the pain doubled and a small gush of liquid was felt within her underwear.

"Liv?" he called out, noticing how her hand immediately landed on the small of her belly.

"We need to go, Fitz," she ordered, "Now," she added of which he immediately followed.

From there, it was like a hurricane of events – through the help of the agents, they were smoothly ushered out of the building without anyone taking notice of the hurried steps they were taking. She remembered Fitz ordering Luther to quickly drive to Rutland Medical, how the pain impossibly made her gripped her stomach tighter, and how Fitz kept telling her it will be okay as he held her hand. She hoped he was right but the pain was too bad she actually feared the worst, but she coaxed herself to believed him, anyway.

But he was wrong. It didn't turn out okay, because shortly after her OBGYN checked up on her, as Fitz stood still beside her, all the while holding her hand, Dr. Reid mournfully informed them, "We got no heartbeat anymore, Ms. Pope."

She heard the doctor offered his sincere 'I'm sorry' before heading out and giving the room for themselves.

"Livie," Fitz was first to spoke but she got no energy to response except to let out a lone tear from her eyes. She felt the small kiss he placed on her forehead and she knew he was trying hard not to cry with her as well. One has to be strong between them and she was sure then it wouldn't her. Not this time.

For the next few minutes, Fitz silently held her close. She appreciated the absence of words because what do you say to a woman who just had a miscarriage? What do you say to someone who lost someone she already loved so much without even meeting them?

It was thirty minutes later when Fitz was informed that D&C was imminent – a procedure needed to be done to let go of the pieces that could have been their baby. He was the one who signed off and it was done after an hour or so. Against medical advice however, she opted to go home.

Fresh tears were slowly leaking from her eyes as soon as she's done recounting the events of the day. Somehow, even her tears have even out by now. They would come but only a tear or two. Even her tears, she noted, felt empty too.

When the door flung opened, she immediately turned her head knowing all too well who most probably walked in. In their Vermont home, they opted for lesser help. They decided to keep Luther and a few agents (a non-negotiable deal, apparently), a house sitter who would come every other week to do much housekeeping, and a gardener who comes every three weeks to tend the gardens. Honestly, between her and Fitz and the friendly vacuum and dishwasher, there wasn't much tiding up to do.

When her eyes met the familiar blues, all she managed to do was to swallow the thick lump on her throat. She noticed that Fitz was already wearing a plain white shirt and dark dockers as the bottom. His eyes, sporting some redness within them that told her, without a doubt, he had been crying too.

In the depths of her grieving, she forgot that Fitz was hurting too. He lost a baby too – the baby she was sure owned his heart the moment she surprised him with the little white stick a few weeks ago.

Fitz, however, managed to drawn in a thin smile – the same assuring smile he would often give her when she needed a subtle assurance that everything will be okay.

"I made some soup maybe you –" Fitz began.

"No, come here," Olivia requested, scooting her body farther to the bed.

The former president obliged, placing himself beside her before securing her within his arm. In an instant, Olivia buried herself closer to his side before placing her head atop the chest of the father of her child.

For a minute, they held each other like this – her drinking in his scent and him holding her head close as his lips landing squarely on a spot above her brow. Two broken souls trying to silently mending each other's hearts.

"I'm sorry," Olivia was first to speak.

"It wasn't your fault, Liv," Fitz called out.

"But if I was –" her words dying short when he pushed her body slightly to get her to look directly at him. "It wasn't your fault," the former president stressed. "None of this was your fault."

She knew better than to argue. Even Dr. Reid earlier told her that, in some cases, miscarriages are inevitable. That a mom's body might not be able to handle the fetus growing inside their bodies. What the hell is that supposed to mean? She internally thought. The doctor went on with some medical explanation but she's too drugged with anesthesia and flooded with grief to even care. All she knows was that she lost a baby, it hurts, that was it.

Shaking her head to bring herself back to the present, she dropped herself on the bed as she cast a sad dreamy stare at the wall in front of her. "I want her, Fitz," she confessed, not noticing the gender she suddenly gave their 10 week old baby, "I want her the moment I knew I have her inside me."

"Livvie."

With a lone tear escaping her eye, Olivia continued, "I never got the chance. To feel her move inside of me. I didn't even get to see her let alone hold her. I feel… robbed. I never got the chance. I always never got the chance."

For a moment, Fitz looked at her. Olivia's last words sending an inclination that she might not be just talking about the baby they recently lost but also about the baby they once had years ago. The baby she didn't know that he knows once existed.

"Her eyes will be blue," she said, eyes landing on his. "Just like yours." Her palm landing a side of his hair. "And she'll get these cute curls that some day I'll tie in a neat bun. Am I that incapable that God would take them -"

Her words stopped when Fitz pulled her hand away from his head only to kiss them.

"Come here," he softly motioned and as soon as her head landed on his chest once more, he placed another kiss on her forehead, stroking her hair while doing so. "This wasn't your fault. THAT wasn't your fault, you got no better choice… then," Fitz added, unintentionally voicing his thoughts about their first baby. That brought them both to silence – like a spell was cast upon them and any more words would break their hearts further.

"You knew," Olivia plainly said a beat after.

"I knew," he confirmed before feeling Olivia slowly pulled herself away from him. "I got the file and I read it."

"Then why didn't you –"

"I couldn't do it," Fitz immediately answered after a sigh, "I couldn't bring myself to question the choice you decided for yourself. Confronting you about it is useless," he finished before casting his stare towards the foot of their bed.

"I'm sorry," Olivia sadly replied, watching his eyes look at hers again.

"I know you had reasons back then, Liv, and I can only imagine how hard it was for you."

The fixer could only nod in reply as she briefly closed her eyes to keep fresh tears from falling.

"I'm sorry," she softly said, "I wish I told you."

"Like I said, you had reasons, I don't hold it against you. Not then, not ever; and whatever the reason was, I support it, Liv. I support you. It's just… yeah, I wish you could have at least told me."

Olivia found herself nodding in acknowledgement before setting herself against his warm body once again.

"Do you think about it? The baby, I mean," she asked.

"I do," Fitz answered, "I think about… I think about who the baby would look like but it really doesn't matter because I know she'll be great regardless because she has you as a mom." His words making Olivia roll her eyes.

"That baby would have been three by now," she shared dreamily.

"My God we would have a toddler," Fitz replied.

"Yeah," Olivia agreed, "Oh the chaos."

For a moment, they let themselves smile. In the silence of the night, they let their minds wander to a place they never tried to visit before – in an imaginative world where their first baby would been around for them to watch that baby grow.

"I know, once you know, you would do everything in your power to convince me to keep it," the former fixer began to share.

Fitz nodded.

"And I would let you talk me into that," Olivia admitted, "because deep down, I want that baby, Fitz. I want it so much that it hurt the moment I set my mind to… give it up. I guess the reality scared me. A lot of things were happening back then that made me believe doing that was the right thing to do; but losing both of them hurt me. I was grieving alone, Fitz. I felt so alone."

A beat.

New tears gathered quickly behind her eyes as the pain of losing their first and second baby come resurfacing once more.

"Livvie," the former president called out, his voice as sincere as the hug he was giving her, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you were alone then. I would have been there, you know that; but you aren't alone now. Not anymore. I'm here. Liv, I'm here now."

His last words and the feel of his hand stroking her was all that mattered for Olivia. For years, she built a vault inside of her and tucked the grief she felt for their first baby, like she made it a rule not to think about it, let alone talk about it; but here tonight, in Fitz's arms, she suddenly let the door opened and let her grief come around and let it consume her.

For the first time, for the two babies she lost, she will not grieve alone anymore.