Summary from FFN: NOW A WIP: She was Olivia Pope, not Alex Jones, not Julia Baker, and she was a mess;In this AU of 4x16, instead of Alex seducing Russell to feel alive again, Olivia decides on a better course of action, a course of action that starts with a phone call to Fitz;HEAVY SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4 WITHIN;Rated for language, imagery, and later Olitz lovemaking;4th in my 2016 SSS Project
Teaser from Chapter 8: It needed to go.
The couch needed to go.
It was a constant reminder of what had happened to her, now. It was poison.’
Yes, she and Fitz had their good moments on it. After hearing their first time on tape, he had held her for One Minute, comforting her and saying goodbye. When he came to her to run out the clock, the couch had been where he sat, looking at her with all the love in the world, all the trust in the world. She had fallen into his arms on the couch, letting herself be loved and letting go...
...but now? The couch had to go. The couch and the whole apartment, for that matter! Why was she still living there? Even before her abduction, there were so many bad times in the place, more than good. It had been a point of pride to stay put. Olivia had seen it as a sign of strength to stay but had it really been? It was something to think about. It was something to talk about, both with her therapist and her family. She had money. She had contacts. Finding a new place in or close to DC would be simple, even with the inherent hassle of moving.
She would have one less piece of furniture to deal with in the process...
Disclaimer for the full story: “Honestly, it’s not mine!”
@douxbebearchives
3 Days Later...
"I'll take care of him. Consider it Handled."
"Huck."
"He shouldn't have broken into your place. You're trying so hard to get better. You are getting better every day. You're learning how to be happy again and he wants to ruin it. He wants to drag you back down into the Dark because that's the only way that you let him be with you. Even if B613 and Rowan aren't a part of his life anymore, he won't ever leave you alone so someone needs to make him go away for good. I can do it. I'll be okay after, I promise."
"You're getting better, too and I don't want Jake to ruin your progress. He's not worth it."
"But you are. Besides, if I don't take him down, Quinn will after I tell her what happened. Charlie will help her get rid of him because he wants her to be happy and he really likes you. Marcus will run interference if anyone asks where he is and Abby still has her gun so..."
"Huck, don't do it. Please?"
"Ballard hurt you before. He put his hands on you and made you feel scared. He made you feel dirty and wrong. We all let him hurt you before and it wasn't right. It wasn't fair to you. We're supposed to be Gladiators. We're supposed to be a family. Family protects family. Always."
"I didn't protect my family when it counted most. I ran away."
"We forgave you and if Harrison was still here, he would've, too. He loved you. We love you."
"...I know."
"Do you?"
"Yeah. Try not to do it. You all can go talk to him but just...try. For me?"
"...okay."
Olivia sighed softly and tossed her phone into the duffel bag next to her. The breeze was refreshing against her skin and she closed her eyes, already feeling tears sliding down her face. After what happened with Jake, she had booked an emergency session with her therapist. Linda Marbury had seen her first thing and she had taken the rest of the day off afterwards. During that off day, she had given her apartment a deep clean, both to calm down and to check for surveillance equipment. Jake said that he had left nothing behind but she would be a fool to take him at his word. She had found nothing but it didn't mean that she wasn't being watched.
Local news had brought up the fact that she was in counseling but she had been prepared. There was no shame in admitting that one needed help. With how stressful life could be, especially in Washington, getting help and support was crucial. Mental health was just as important as physical health, if not more important. After all, if one's mind wasn't right, then the rest of the body wouldn't be either.
The statement, along with substantial donations to local outreach programs, had quickly turned the narrative around in her favor. Olivia was a Fixer. She was the best in the business for a reason and it was nice to remember that she deserved help, too.
Opening her eyes, she looked at the couch. It was waiting near the quarry's small lake, looking both huge and small. She had been meaning to get rid of it since her abduction but she hadn't the time or the strength. But now that she was healing, truly healing, getting rid of it was just as important as taking her medicine on time and removing the toxic people from her life.
She had blocked Mellie's numbers. She had also put a strict policy in place for keeping her or her representatives out of OPA. True to Fitz's warning, a series of voicemails had been left by the embittered woman, dripping with alcohol laced venom. She had Huck save each one of them, added them to the black Kill Folder, and moved on with her life. Mellie losing her Election wasn't Olivia's fault. It wasn't Fitz's fault. It wasn't Cyrus' fault or the American People's. The loss was no one's fault but Mellie's. She didn't want to wait and build her brand. She didn't want to put the work in that her opponent had. She had felt entitled to Power and rightfully got a wake-up call.
Olivia had taken to letting Cyrus go to voicemail, too. Unless it was about Ella's wellbeing, she wouldn't take his calls. He was looking for her to get back into Kingmaking. He was looking for her to be The White House's personal Fixer again and Olivia wasn't interested. She wasn't interested in being called 'The Help' ever again. If Fitz needed her, then he could and would call her himself so Cyrus couldn't use that avenue to get her anymore. She wouldn't let him.
Just because he wasn't actively interfering with her life anymore didn't mean that he was trusted. Trusting Cyrus Beene would be just as foolish as trusting Jake. She was a lot of things but foolish? Not anymore. If she was really going to heal, she had to be firm. She had to be brave. Having support from her friends and Fitz was excellent but at the end of the day, it was up to her.
Reaching down to the large speaker, she turned the volume all the way up. Fighting back bile, Olivia lowered the needle to the record player and waited.
After a couple scratches, the music began.
Yeah, everybody's got a thing
But some don't know how to handle it
Always reaching out in vain
Just taking the things not worth having but
Don't you worry 'bout a thing
Don't you worry 'bout a thing, mama
'Cause I'll be standing on the side
When you check it out, oh
They say your style of life's a drag
And that you must go other places
Just don't you feel too bad
When you get fooled by smiling faces
Don't you worry bout a thing...
It needed to go.
The couch needed to go.
It was a constant reminder of what had happened to her, now. It was poison.
Yes, she and Fitz had their good moments on it. After hearing their first time on tape, he had held her for One Minute, comforting her and saying goodbye. When he came to her to run out the clock, the couch had been where he sat, looking at her with all the love in the world, all the trust in the world. She had fallen into his arms on the couch, letting herself be loved and letting go...
...but now? The couch had to go. The couch and the whole apartment, for that matter! Why was she still living there? Even before her abduction, there were so many bad times in the place, more than good. It had been a point of pride to stay put. Olivia had seen it as a sign of strength to stay but had it really been? It was something to think about. It was something to talk about, both with her therapist and her family. She had money. She had contacts. Finding a new place in or close to DC would be simple, even with the inherent hassle of moving.
She would have one less piece of furniture to deal with in the process.
Come on, everybody needs a change
A chance to check out the new
But you're the only one to sees
The changes you take yourself through
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Don't you worry 'bout a thing, thing
Don't you worry 'bout a thing, thing
Don't you worry 'bout a thing, thing
Don't you worry 'bout a thing, thing...
After renting the truck and putting the couch inside, Olivia had driven to a small hardware store about 90 minutes away from DC. She had looked it up online, not wanting to deal with a large crowd. Not to mention that the sight of The Olivia Pope in a Home Depot or Lowe's would be instant Beltway gossip fuel. She didn't need that. She didn't deserve that. Over the years, she had become so protective of everyone else's privacy, everyone else's Reputation, that she had neglected herself. She had seen herself as a burden, as a Scandal, and it had led to some of the worst decisions she had ever made. That needed to change. Olivia needed to take control.
It was her life to live. It was her life to Fix so she could enjoy it again.
Don't you worry 'bout a thing
Don't you worry 'bout a thing, mama
'Cause I'll be standing on the side
When you check it out
When you get it off your trip
Don't you worry 'bout a thing
Don't you worry 'bout a thing, mama...
The muscles in her body burned. Tears were falling and her body was shaking but with each blow of the sledgehammer, Olivia could feel more of the heaviness lift. The couch was going to be gone. She would never have to look at it again. She would still have the memories. She would still have the flashbacks and terrors but things would be better. Huck was right. She was trying. She wanted to be better. She wanted to be happy again. No one was going to stop her from being happy again.
Not Jake.
Not Mellie.
Not Rowan.
Not Cyrus.
And especially not herself.
Once she could lift the hammer no more, she let it fall to the ground and took in the sight in front of her. The couch was now a jumble of metal, fabric, and wood. There were cuts on her hands, small but stinging. She would take care of them soon enough. She wasn't done just yet.
Returning to the truck, Olivia got the red gas can and the engraved silver lighter. It had been a gift from Rowan. She couldn't remember exactly when he had given it to her but it was before she had realized the truth about him. She had found it during the deep clean of her apartment and it was only fitting to use it.
The remains of the couch ignited immediately and she threw the lighter into the flames, letting it all burn. Olivia knew that she still had a lot of work to do. She knew that her fight for joy was far from over but at the moment, she felt victorious. She felt vindicated and empowered.
She had taken back another piece of her soul.
She would never get them all back but that was fine.
She would always be more than a little broken inside but that didn't mean that she was unworthy.
It didn't mean that she was ruined.
There was hope.
As long as there was breath in her body, there was hope.
Don't you worry 'bout a thing
Don't you worry 'bout a thing, mama
'Cause I'll be standing on the side
When you check it out
Oh don't you worry 'bout a thing
Don't you worry 'bout a thing, mama
'Cause I'll be standing, I'll be standing by you
