I'm sorry for taking so long to update. I have not decided yet whether this will be the end or whether I will continue it, but if I decide to end it here I have several other olitz fanfic ideas. Happy reading!

I'm not sure exactly what her question means or how to respond. I know from a decade of experience how much she hates feeling vulnerable like this, so I brace myself for her to pick a fight and try to push me away.

"What's wrong? You're sick of me already?" I ask finally, trying to make light of the situation and hopefully ward off an argument. I'm mostly joking but not entirely. She loves living alone and when she insisted that I check out of the hotel a few weeks ago and move in with her I was afraid she'd feel crowded and come to regret it. Eventually I agreed, because I was beyond tired of living in a hotel room, and since I stay at Mellie's house in Virginia two or three nights a week when I have Teddy anyway, I figured Liv would still get some time to herself. Eventually we're going to look for a bigger place together but for now this arrangement seems to be working for everyone. Teddy gets to keep his airplane-themed bedroom, Mellie has someone to check on her house regularly while she's living in the crown jewel of the American prison system, and Liv gets to stay in her place as we ease into living together. It's not exactly the post-presidential life in Vermont I had envisioned for us, but I get to wake up next to the love of my life almost every morning so I can't complain.

To my relief, she smiles a little and shakes her head. "No. I'm not sick of you," she says, her voice slightly slurred. "I just don't understand why you're still here, after everything I...I lied to you, I betrayed you, I played you like a fool, I broke your heart over and over and yet here you are, waking up with me night after night, jumping up to fetch me water and asking if I want popcorn. Is that admirable or ridiculous?" she asks rhetorically.

For a moment, I feel anger I didn't know I had start to bubble up. Is she honestly belittling me for refusing to give up on her, for trying to help her?

I force myself to calm down before I speak, reminding myself that she's still shaken up from whatever happened in her dream and realizing how hard it is for her to let me see her vulnerable like this. The last thing I want to do is escalate the situation.

"Come on, Liv," I plead. "Don't pick a fight."

She shakes her head and reaches for my hand, which I take as a good sign. "I'm not picking a fight, Fitz. I honestly want to know."

From her tone I'm pretty sure she's serious. "You want to know why I didn't give up on you?" I ask gently.

"Yeah," she says softly.

I shake my head, not quite sure how to respond. Truth be told, it's a conversation we've both been putting off, and this might not be the ideal time but it's a fair question and she deserves an answer.

I could tell her it's because I love her, but I know she wants more of an explanation than that.

"I tried," I admit. She looks surprised. "Or maybe I just thought about trying. I don't know. After Vermont, I told myself I needed to move on. Marcus kept suggesting women I could go out on dates with, although I think he mostly did it to make a point. I did, once. And I looked at houses in DC. There was one I seriously considered, but it had those post-war style windows that I know you hate and it just...didn't feel right. Maybe that is ridiculous, I don't know. But I knew the person you had become wasn't who you really wanted to be, and I just...I couldn't accept that you were really gone," I say, my voice choking up a little. "And for what it's worth, you didn't play me like a fool," I tell her.

She looks at me, surprised.

"I knew you were lying, in Vermont," I tell her. "I was hoping I'd be wrong, but in my gut I knew it was just too easy. I knew that if you really intended to resign you'd be a lot angrier at me than you were."

"Then why let me go?" she asks.

"Because if we hadn't convinced you by then, if you were willing to go to that length to deceive to the people who love you the most, then keeping you locked up any longer wasn't going to do anything. I knew we couldn't force you to walk away from the White House and B613 if you weren't ready. And I was angry...really angry. What you did, it really hurt," I admit, getting a little choked up.

"I know," she says softly.

"It made me feel like I wasn't enough for you," I tell her.

"Fitz, that's not...it wasn't about you," she insists.

"I know that," I reply. "It's not always about me, right?"

"Right."

Liv squeezes my hand and looks into my eyes, blinking back tears. I think she's just starting to understand how hard it was for me and everyone who loves her to watch her descend into darkness.

"What if you're wrong?" she asks in a voice barely above a whisper.

"What?" I ask, utterly perplexed by her question.

"I said, what if you're wrong, about me?" she repeats.

"I wasn't wrong," I respond. "You've already proven that I wasn't wrong."

"Have I? Or is this just me being on my best behavior until the other side of me comes back out?" she asks.

"Liv, what...where is this coming from?" I ask, perplexed. Her eyes well up with tears.

"Liv?" I prod gently. Suddenly, she is breathing heavily again, trying to ward off a panic attack.

"It's okay, I'm right here," I whisper, tightening my grip around her.

"They were..." she begins. I wait patiently even though I have no idea what she's talking about.

"They were all dead," she says softly after a long moment. "In the dream. We were back in Vermont, and everyone except you who participated in the intervention was laying on the floor dead. I don't remember killing them but I must have, because you and I were the only ones who were still alive. They didn't have any gunshot wounds so I think I poisoned them all. And I was pointing a gun at you, and I could hear Cyrus saying 'it's the difference between having all the power and having none,' just like he said to me in real life. And I don't know...if I was going to pull the trigger."

"Liv," I say gently, not sure what I'm going to say after that. I'm genuinely stunned by her dream. It's at that moment that I realize she's not just feeling guilty - she's feeling scared.

"I think...he tried," she says. "Cyrus. I think he tried to be a better person, after he got out of jail. But his past caught up with him and his inner monster came right back out."

"You're not Cyrus," I say firmly. "You're better than he is...better than all of us."

She looks at me like I'm crazy. "How can you say that?" she asks.

"Because it's the truth."

"The truth? The truth is, I became everything I used to fight against."

"Liv, I know..."

"No, you don't!" she cuts me off. "You think you do but you don't. You don't know what it's like to be so desperate to hang onto power that you want everyone you love to hate you so you won't have any weaknesses. You don't know what it's like to lose sight of everything you used to believe in. You don't know what it's like because despite spending 8 years as the most powerful man in the world, you never lost your soul, not the way I did."

For a moment I'm speechless. Does she really believe that?

"And why do you think that is, Liv?" I find myself saying. "You think it's because I'm such a good person? Because I assure you, it's not. If you're right, if I still have a soul, then it's for one reason and one reason only."

"And what's that?" she challenges. I stare at her blankly. Does she really not know?

"Because I had you," I say softly. "I had you to keep me grounded, to remind me who I was and why I wanted to be president in the first place. Because even when we weren't together, every time I thought about taking the easy road or the politically expedient road, I had to imagine the disappointed look on your face. I know that I was a better president and I am a better man because of you. So you want to know why I didn't give up on you, that's why," I say, my voice choking up and tears filling my eyes. "It's why I can't stop loving you no matter how much you make me wish I could sometimes."

She can't help but smile through her tears at that last line. "I'm sorry, Fitz," she says softly.

"You don't need to apologize, Liv. I forgave you a long time ago. Now you just need to forgive yourself."

"I don't know how," she admits.

I squeeze my arms tighter around her and kiss the top of her head.

"You'll get there," I assure her. "Think about all of the people in your life and everything you've forgiven us for. You see the good in everyone, it's one of the things that makes you so special. You just need to see the good in yourself too. You need to forgive yourself like you forgave all of us, okay?"

"Yeah," she says softly, but I can tell she's not fully convinced.

We sit there in silence for a minute, until I reposition us so that I'm laying on the bed with Liv curled up on my chest. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere," I reassure her.

"I told you, I'm not going anywhere," I reassure her.

To my surprise, she looks me in the eye and says two words that make me sure it's all been worth it. "Me neither," she promises.

I was going to have more, where Fitz and her team stage a second intervention to help her work through everything, but this seems like a good stopping point, so I may do that as a separate story. I hope you have enjoyed this. Please review if you have a chance.