Her parents are monsters.

That's a fact she had learned to live with since she was a kid. Somehow, she ended up being much more observant than most kids her age. That's how she figured out, that day in first grade when the teacher asked them to bring their daddies to talk about their jobs, that her father wasn't who he pretend to be. Or at least that he was talking about the supposed job of his dreams like he was mechanically presenting the forecast. It was that day she figured out that her father was somekind - probably the worst of his category - of a professional liar.

As for her mother, well let's just say that she never really acted like she saw other mommies do; she was never affectionate with her daughter, there was no mischief between them, she never bothered with homemade dishes, took her shopping or even dotted on her- nothing. The only quality time they spent together was at the park and even there, the little girl had to play alone as it felt too awkward hanging out with the other kids.

When all of a sudden her mother disappeared into thin air and her father decided to ship her to the first and best boarding school he had found, she never felt happier, lighter, going away had indeed an overwhelming taste of freedom. She would be able to do any and every thing she wanted. She would finally be surrounded by people her age and enjoy something else other than the tension that seemed to weigh over her family house. Growing up she kept their interactions as minimal as possible, she never introduced friends and boyfriends to her family afraid they would just flee. But above all, she would work hard to never again be dependant on her father's money.

No, the concept of normality was foreign to Olivia Pope.

That was until she met Governor Fitzgerald Grant.

Before him, she never dared dreaming about a family life and yet there she was picturing what their children would look like, what names and how many they would have , she pictured a life full of love and joy and happiness and growing old in the arms of the man she loved more than life itself. She certainly got into dreaming about the perfect life with the perfect man. A man whose existence she made sure to keep for herself.

Sure enough she managed to make such a miracle happen for a few years but when your evil parents are set on ruining your life, you can't escape it for long. So after almost five years of silence her fathers reappeared in her life urging her to end her relationship and barely had she had enough time to process the storm she was getting into that her mother reappeared making what she thought were only ideal treats. How was she supposed to know? What kind of mother demands that her child gives up her happiness to entertain her sick mind? But then again she couldn't know, she couldn't..

Her life was a mess, and she had no control over it, no way to prevent disasters from happening and certainly no way to know what kind of twisted up scheme her parents decided to join forces on. She knew race - and probably the status of their affair - might be an issue to her parents but the lengths they went to make her feel the need to disappear still amazes her like nothing else.

They poisoned an innocent child.

They poisoned the eldest of the First Children.

They poisoned the eldest child of the love of her life.

How exactly could she just keep on living her life like nothing happened? How could she just watch him go through such a deep, heartbreaking and nerve-wrecking pain? He would need her and she was well aware of it but knowing you're the indirect but still a cause to the pain a loved one is going through... it was too much to bear.

The hour or so following the accident she received a phone call.

"Olivia," a smirking voice said.

"What did you do?" she replied with the most threatening voice she could muster. He was her tormentor and against him she was still a powerless little girl.

"I have no idea what you're talking about and I highly suggest you change your tone."

"What do you want?"

"I have a plane, ready to board anytime today you'll be the only one..."

"I'm not interested," she cut him.

"... then he still has two kids. Your choice since you claim to love him so much."

She took some time to think about it, weighing options that only promised to hurt him, hurt them. But at the same time, Karen and Teddy are all he truly has left and she is the reason he's at the hospital at the very moment wondering what on earth happened to his son who was just fine before going on stage. She loves him but she could go. She could take the exit. But she'd take it alone. She couldn't betray him once again.

"You said I'll be the only one."

"Yes."

"What about..?" she couldn't even say his name.

"I have no interest in him anymore. Accidents in D.C. happen more often than you know. You have two hours and you'd better keep your mouth shut." Then the phone went dead.

She was doing the right thing. She was saving him, keeping Karen and Teddy away from danger. At least that's what she rocked herself to sleep thinking about for the first few months when the thought of her dreams fading away haunted her. She couldn't help but picture Vermont and their wedding, the joys of her pregnancy and how lucky she was to have him by her side, then she pictures them picking a color to paint the nursery, shopping for furniture and arguing about baby names, what a perfect husband and father he would be and the fierce protector of their little precious family.

That was her therapy when her life became tasteless and she wanted was give up on everything. Actually, he was.

Then one day at her third stop in the South of France she met a couple whose struggles to be together one day kept them strong and hopeful, proud as they presented her to their now expanding family. It gave her hope and she was stunned when they showed her their collected years of stacks of letters they sent to one another during tough times. That's how Cécile - the wife - managed to keep a smile on her face for the five years her husband was deployed, when she had very little hope of seeing him again one day. The next day she bought a little journal and started doing the same, writing about silly details, hopeful moments, things she saw that made her think of him, anything that she wished she could just call and tell him. It was like therapy, working wonders and getting his news wasn't exactly the hardest.

Then a few months later she went to Italy, in a little village where she mainly enjoyed the amazing landscape and took advantage and bought a professional camera willing herself to discover a new hobby; a way to desperately kill time. But she had to admit, it was quite a sight especially when she witnessed a small wedding reception by the beach. Her heart swelled tenfold when she saw the love the newlyweds had for each other, it reminded her so much of the love they shared. Again, people were so inviting that she got to talking to the entire family and she could feel the love radiating from them.

"He was married, unhappily but still married. He divorced his wife last month and they jumped on planning their wedding," the bride's mother confessed, "I'm not that proud of how they started but seeing how happy and loved my daughter is, I couldn't hope for better," the old woman continued then looking at her she added, "fight for who you love, at the end it's the only thing that really matters."

The old woman's wise words followed her until she got back to the U.S. more than eighteen months later, she was wondering how he was, she knew his term was soon to be over, always making sure to keep a close eye on the children.

When she first landed and finally bothered with her phone, it took a good hour for it to come back to life before buzzing for what seemed like the longest time. Messages, texts, emails, voicemail... it was truly a too much. It was only when she looked a little more in depth into it that she got the two best good news she's given up on seeing for a few years at least; her mother had died in what the police report classified as a house fire and there were photos of two burnt bodies her mother's and the man from the park, from when she was a little girl. Finally, one of her latest messages indicated that her father had been placed in a mental illness facility which she suspected was due to some operation gone wrong.

To anyone with good relations with their parents these would have been devastating, but to her.. it was the beginning of the rest of her life. She was finally free to be, to love, to live.

She just had to find him. They had so much to lay out and discuss but it would be worth it at the end. It was their battle and they were going to get to the bottom of it. It was high time they got their dreams to come true.

She went to her bedroom with no real motive, not exactly knowing what she was looking for as she frantically opened each drawer in her closet, she knew she had something securely kept in one of them but she couldn't pinpoint what exactly it was. When she opened the third drawer she could feel the last lath moving, she took it off and tears gathered in her eyes. She couldn't believe it was still in its place, she couldn't exactly believe how much hope and dreams the little piece of metal held. She was so happy her heart started pounding in her chest, so wildly she felt the urge to place a hand over it as if it would have kept it into place.

She still had her key.

Vermont felt so within reach.

Vermont is within reach.

Immediately she took her suitcase and booked the first flight to Vermont she found. She would buy what she needed at the airport or when she arrives. For now, she didn't have time for silly details. She'll worry about them later. All she cares about is him, she feels so powered, a new wild rush of energy shooting through her, invading her entire system. It feels so familiar yet so foreign, probably because it's been so long. Probably because no one else managed to make her feel so alive and loved like he so effortlessly manages. She just hopes the flight won't be too long as she feels every possible nerve in her body on fire, wiling for her to move around, keep herself busy until she gains enough strength and courage to talk to him again.

She closes her eyes, trying to lose herself in the comfort of her seat, as if it would make her less tense, less like a bomb ticking. All she can think about are their moments, and suddenly she's in his campaign headquarters; she's speaking up throwing all embarrassing truths straight to his face she should have been embarrassed but for some reason the more she spoke the more alive she felt. Actually she had never felt as alive as she had under his burning gaze, enveloping her like a caress. Right away she knew they were in trouble. The best kind. The kind that makes your stomach fill with butterflies and ignites your body like it is on fire, the kind that leaves a constant smile on your lips and thoughts of the passion and love that you felt the whole night before and left your sheets and pillowcases smell like your lover.

She misses that.

She misses them.

Thoughts about memories flood her mind; his touch - the way his rough and calloused hands always manage to leave the sweetest paths on her skin making her ache for more, that secret hand on the small of her back bringing her to him always closer into a bubble only they can fit in, she can remember how shocked she was at how perfectly their fingers slid in between the other's gaps when they first held hands in that bus as if every detail of their bodies was meant for the other- the way his eyes burned holes in her body as he stared at her like she held the moon and was the reason he could see the stars and the sun. He was the sweetest man she knew and he preached his undying love for her so many time she was just starting to believe and accept it.

Leaving the airport she headed straight towards the first store she knew she could find everything she needed in before heading to their house. Their house. Even thinking the words feels weird. She braces herself. She knows it would be the beginning of a very long route towards recovery if there is.

It's only when the cab drives off that possible question rise; what if he doesn't want her anymore? The last time they were there in a heated fight he said he would sell the house, and it's been nearly four years - or more of what seems like an eternity - since they last saw each other, what if he sold it? What if someone else lives in that house? What if someone else is invading their most private dream? The simple thought makes her hand ball into firsts and her fingers dig into the soft flesh. She's about to tell the driver to bring her back to the airport when she looks up to realize she has arrived. And it's too late to walk away.

She gathers her bags and with shaky hands tries her luck. She inserts the key and with very little hope she turns it into the lock, tears falling freely when the door opens. If she can access it, there's still a chance he still wants her right?

The rooms are just like they left them; he didn't even come up there during his second term. She opens every door and every window trying to get rid of the scent that spoils their house and takes off the white cover from the couch - she can't sleep in their bed on her own, there are too many memories filling the room already.

For the next week and a half she just rediscovers the house as if she had never seen it before, looking at each corner with a new pair of eyes. Everything seems so much more alive mainly because his voice is flooding her mind, she knew watching videos of his interviews would only make her miss him more. But how exactly could she resist it?

She wakes up with an extra pep in her steps, feeling like it's really a new day, a perfect day for a fresh start but she can't exactly pinpoint how today is different from the others. For some odd reason she can't stop herself from hoping, her head full of dreams only this time she truly believes in them and can almost see little versions of the man she loves running around the living area, she can picture herself holding their newest addition against her hip while flipping pancakes on the stove yelling to her older children to be more careful. She takes her laptop and puts on some music to kill the deafening silence while she writes in her book, the pen gliding with very much ease as she lays down further details of the dream that's monopolizing her attention.

She cooks lunch, and starts eating between emails, trying to reply to each one or at least read them. It's starting to get colder, she looks around realizing that she might have left the blanket upstairs in one of the rooms. She heads first for their bedroom but it's nowhere to be found and just as she's about to turn the hall, she stops dead in her tracks. Her heart beating so fast her entire body feels hot, color rushing through it, her limbs are frozen into place and all she wants is to rush into his arms, have him hold her as tightly as she remembers. Because that's the heaven she's looking for. She can feel electricity pinching the tip of her fingers, pushing, urging her to move closer. Her brain has never been so slow processing his presence or is it because so many scenarios are playing in her mind, either way she's willing herself to do something, speak up before the vision goes away. At least they haven't lost a bit from their attraction, if anything it seems more powerful than ever.

"Hi." she doesn't remember thinking it, let alone deciding to speak up until she hears a voice somewhat resembling her own covering the awkward atmosphere.

He looks more handsome than she remembers, his eyes can't hide the surprize seeing her rises in him. Ceruleans fix her for so long she feels like he's stripping her from her clothes, leaving her bare under his accusatory eyes. And she can't blame him. In the end when it comes to facing their hurdles, she's the one to leave without even a word. And this time, it's nearly a four year gap they need to fill up to move on. Even if they're not directly in front of each other she can feel him start to relax as he hears the only word that truly defines them, the one word that usually opens the doors of forgiveness. Really, it seems like neither can believe the only person they've been missing is finally before them, breathing the same air, surrounded by the same walls. It's kind of surreal if not for the jolts of electricity around them.

"Hi," he lets out in a whisper.

And she just can't stand the distance as she flings herself to him, her heart partially breaking when he stiffens for a minute, his arms awkwardly set at his sides while she's tightening her grip around him, feeling him, inhaling his scent, feeling his fast heartbeat beneath her. It feels like she lives again. And a minute later, he starts responding to her, apparently as unable as she is ti totally stay unmoved by her touch or her proximity. At first he relaxes, his body molding into hers, wrapping around her like they used to, before drama and stupid decisions came between them. Then, she feels his arms circle her tiny frame, bringing her impossibly closer, pressing her against his chest like he can't believe she's back in his arms and as if he needs more proof he buries his nose into her hair and relishes in the scent that he grew so attached to, a unique scent that to him, only announces her presence.

When they break away, none of them knows exactly what to say, what words to use. She suggests that they head downstairs, only to buy herself more time, hoping the short way to the couch will unfreeze the tension and awkwardness.

Only once they're seated, he breaks the silence.

"You're back."

"I am." she knows exactly what information he's looking for.

"You were just gone for what now... four years?"

"I needed a change of air." stupid excuses.

"You could have gotten it here." he snaps. He's angry, rightfully so.

"I mean I wanted out of the country, clear the air, life was a mess, chaos everywhere..." she rambles.

"You wanted a clean start." It's a statement.

"I did."

"With him."

"I was alone."

"Oh."

"He's dead."

He doesn't answer. When he got no news of him he just supposed that they just escaped together, looking from a fresh start, leaving him alone and heartbroken in the middle of a mess.

"How are the kids?" she switches the conversation, knowing how much he loves his kids and hoping the subject could warm him up.

They spend a few hours talking, catching up as they bring up anything the other missed because despite everything that happened they need the other in their lives. She's his life, he's her oxygen. That simple. Karen is fine, she grew up to be a tough, strongly opinionated woman he's so proud of, she's going to the same college Olivia went to, oddly enough she doesn't resemble her mother in anything as if she had her own personality mixed with her father's devotion to noble causes, she went on humanitarian trips and nothing warms her heart more than helping those in need. She seems to have found the perfect match in Michael, her boyfriend. As for Teddy, well he sees much more of his father and barely any nannies and he's planning on spending even more time with his little one. Well now that he's no longer president or married.

The news of the divorce strike her, sending waves to the entire length of her spine. Finally he did it. After four years of promises, he did it. Maybe her leaving was a good thing on that side.

It's only when a throat clearing reverberates in the room that they look up, only noticing their very close sitting positions. They could barely fit Teddy's little body in between them. He rises when she insists they stay the night, after all their house has a lot of bedrooms. And she needs him to read the diaries. It's her only shot to forgiveness.

Fitz:

The introduction to Teddy is surprisingly well, he quickly warms up to her, something pushing him into transferring a motherly figure to her. And before they know it, they're coloring books, discussing colors and figures leaving Fitz stunned at how they interact. Stunned and very happy about it as he puts away Teddy's and his stuff into one of the guest rooms. He fingers the sides of the books she's given him, her eyes pleading that he reads them.

Later that night after putting his son to bed and making small talk with her he can't shake how naturally things are flowing, at least as naturally as one could expect. He strips into an undershirt and pyjama bottoms before settling on the bed with the sole company of the dim light the side lamp offers and he plunges into the life of Olivia Pope.

The first thing he notices is the sadness almost like depression that shows through as she lays her thoughts on paper, how she misses him and blames herself for everything that's happened to them throughout the years. Even when she couldn't have done a thing to change it. Then he can't help but notice how recurring the comparison with her parent's marriage is even when they share no common point. They're two different couples but only one truly loves one another. That's what's she cannot grasp. Relationships have no rules, you can't take example on one to avoid trouble in the other. She should have talked to him about the way she felt, she should have been more communicative but time isn't to the should've. What happened happened.

He reads as she learns from the love she witnesses others having for each other, and it's only then that she realizes, truly realizes that their love is worth it. It stinks a little that it took her so long, but at least she did. And he's so grateful to the Italian bride's mother's words.

They're going to make it but they need to talk first.

The next day they spend most of the time entertaining Teddy, talking to a much excited Karen and just enjoying each other's company. They make a big breakfast, each one participating; Teddy and Olivia squeeze fruit and make juice and jam and get the table ready while Fitz does the majority of the cooking- pancakes, waffles, bacon and scrambled eggs.

They enjoy the calmness of the property taking walks around the vast property, he improvised a wooden swing for the little boy before turning it into a little football game. When the little boy is spent and they put him to bed, they know they can finally lay it all out.

They settle on the couch once again, sitting next to other, minimizing the space between them.

"I want to try again," she says softly, almost in a shy manner.

"Liv..."

"No listen. I want to give us a proper shot, a clean start... It's killed me being that away from you and for so long," she pleads the sadness in her eyes a proof of how hard the separation was on her, killing her just like he felt himself dying, "we're so great together and I'm only just figuring out how much I need you... and I know you need me just as much... life's too short and we've already waisted so much time playing around. I feel like a lifetime won't be enough, I can't get enough of you and, frankly, I don't even want us out of the same room again, I don't want you out of my sight... We have our issues and I'd rather die working on them than give up on you.."

"Liv," he tries to interrupt her rambling.

"Just hear me out... you're no longer president or married, it's kind of perfect don't you think? We could get married, have our four kids, live the life we've always dreamed about, we have the house, we have Teddy, we have time something that we used to wish we could have. Our dream can hap-"

He knows the only way to stop the speaking machine is to kiss her.

And that's what he does.

And he missed it. The feeling of his mouth against hers, the passion they never lost is just a paradise he'll never want to walk away from. Her lips are so soft against him, the kiss itself so powerful, filled with a love and passion neither thought they'd feel again. His right hand cups her face, holding her into place so impossibly close while the other one snakes around her waist bring her on his lap earning a moan, a sound he missed so badly. Her hand on the other hand grip his curls before moving to cup his ears, something she knows he absolutely loves. And what he loves, she loves.

They only part, regretfully, cursing the need for air that brings them out of the shattering kiss they just shared.

"I love you." she says looking into his eyes. Making sure he knows that from now on she'll express her feelings.

"I love you too."

Neutral POV - speed up:

Three months later they finish completely moving into their house, she sells her apartment, no longer feeling the need to have it anymore. Her life is in Vermont now.

After a long discussion they decide they want to keep his ranch in Santa Barbara, just a place they'll re-furnish accordingly to their tastes. But his life belongs in Vermont now.

Four months after their move in, she's wearing a gorgeous pale pink color, walking down the path of flowers he managed to organize towards the man she's about to marry. It's a very intimate ceremony and aside from Teddy whose acting as their ring bearer and Karen -and her boyfriend- the only addition is the man who's going to make them pronounce their vows.

The simple wedding they've dreamed of.

First, thank you so much for your feedback, I really really appreciate it!

What is this? It's my therapy and the first part was my first attempt at writing again. At least one way that I imagine it so I started writing my version of what I wish I could see on my screen and yes I killed anyone that was bothering me leaving the essentials.. I did a little of what I expect them to do; Fitz getting a very overdue divorce, and I made Olivia travel so that she can see couples in difficult situations make it work to make her react. And yes I selfishly kept them both single the entire time.

What can I say really... I can't identify with what the characters have become and that's my opinion. I'm not trying to influence anyone that's what I think. As always hope you liked this one as well and thank you for reading :)