For a moment, Fitz forgot that Cyrus was still in the room. Instead, unwillingly, his mind went back over his inner circle that had betrayed him so thoroughly.

They had all had something to gain from his election - Fitz had accepted that as the cost of doing business in American politics. He had just never comprehended just how far they would go to get it. 

The Chief of Staff position had always been the unspoken pact between he and Cyrus. But what Cyrus didn’t realize was that Fitz knew him better than the other man gave him credit for. Fitz knew that Cyrus saw much of himself in him - the political brilliance and force of personality. He also knew that because of who Cyrus loved, this was as close to the actually gaining the presidency that the older man was ever going to get.  

The flip side of the coin was that Fitz knew that he needed Cyrus' ruthlessness along with his single-mindedness of purpose, and that their talents combined would serve the both of them - and the country - very well.

As for the others...

Hollis Doyle - that was simple enough; in repayment for his money and influence, he expected influence in return. But Fitz had been very careful in never promising him anything and had let him know it. The one time he had confronted him on the matter, Hollis had blustered in his customary good old boy way and assured him that he wanted nothing better than what was good for the country. Not that Fitz had believed him for a single minute, but he’d made himself clear. His influence as president was not for sale. 

Verna Thorton -  she’d wanted the SCOTUS position. That in itself had been no problem. In spite of the venom she’d spewed at the end of her life, before that she’d proven herself to be an excellent jurist and an appointment he’d been proud to make. Her influence and backing had been a welcome asset.

Mellie - she'd never made a secret of her ambitions - just as she never missed a chance to remind him of all she'd sacrificed for him. She wanted the title of First Lady and had proved herself by words and actions - that she would do anything to achieve it. The fact that she’d thought it to be a springboard to something more than the title entailed was a problem every now and then but as long as he knew about her ambitions, it really made it easier for Fitz to keep them in check. 

Unwillingly Fitz’s mind went on to Olivia, the last member of their conspiracy. 

Olivia - what had been her motive? That was a question he still couldn’t answer fully. Once he’d learned about this unholy cabal that had claimed it served him, Fitz had made it a point to take the time to analyze and understand their motives.  In that he was his father’s child - even if no one else knew it.

Once upon a time, he would have been able to claim that the position of Communication Director of Public Affairs for the White House would have been her end game. She’d been surprised when he’d offered her the position. They had both been full of love and hope and joy of the idea of the future that had laid itself out before them.

His heart ached with the memories he didn’t want to relive. They hurt too much. Even when they argued - and they’d done that almost as much as they had loved - they knew that they were meant for each other. They were in this thing together. 

But then, without warning, Olivia had resigned from the position before she’d given herself any amount of time to gain any real political capital from it.

Fitz still remembered the painful punch to the gut that he’d felt when he’d received her resignation along with the Eisenhower presidential pin - the gift she’d given him the day of his swearing in -  she’d given him the night he’d delivered his first State of the Union address. 

Flashback...

Fitz had been flying high, having received a standing ovation from both sides of the aisle at the end of his first State of the Union address. An ovation that had been spontaneous and surprisingly unmarked by partisan divisiveness. The American people had had enough of it and he had promised to do his best to end it. The ideas that he and Cyrus and Olivia had hammered out during their time at Camp David had spoken to America, and they had responded with enthusiasm and hope. 

He remembered returning to the Oval Office, full of jubilance and euphoria, feeling for the first time that tonight, he was truly the president of these united states of America. The people  - and the combined groups of senators and representatives - had given him the mandate he’d needed to move the country forward. For this one moment, they were truly “E Pluribus Unum” - out of the many - one. 

It was a powerful - and yet humbling - feeling.

He’d walked back into the Oval Office alone, wanting a moment to himself to savor his emotions to the fullest. It felt impossibly good. He felt like his steps were barely touching the ground.

Walking across the room to his desk, his heart was still full of emotions.  Seeing the Eisenhower pin on his desk - his inauguration gift from Olivia had been the icing on the cake. It had to be a message from her to him. 

He smiled as he picked it up. Touching it, holding it in his hands was almost as good as holding her. If only she had been able to be here to share this moment with him. 

Fitz promised himself that he’d call her later - she was the only one he wanted to share his feelings with. It wasn’t what he really wanted, but that would have to be good enough. It would be. 

At least that was what he’d thought right up until he’d seen the letter that had laid beneath it. 

All his happiness evaporated, replaced by a great swooping sense of loss inside. He wanted to be sick.

Fitz read the words over and over again, unable to take in their meaning. She’d resigned. On the night of his first triumphant speech before the nation since taking office, Olivia had left him. And while he didn’t have the particulars of it all, deep down inside he’d known the why of it all.  

Suddenly empty - and numb with it, Fitz sank into his chair thinking  - no, knowing - that he’d lost her forever. Loving her and damning her all at the same time. 

He knew it with everything in him. Something had happened that caused her to lay the love she had for him on the altar of the presidency. 

Fitz had hated the truth, but knowing who she was, Fitz knew that had been the focus of her choices. And he’d no choice to accept the sacrifice she was making. Not that it made the understanding any less difficult to accept. From the day he’d decide to run for the presidency,  Fitz had begun because he’d been ready to give his all to his country 

So how could he possible blame her for doing the same?

... End Flashback 

How could he reconcile that Olivia with the same woman who had conspired with the others to put him where he was now? He loved her - no, he hated her. He needed to hate her. 

His heart didn’t know what to do except to hurt. Knowing that did not help his temper in the here and now. Knowing that was another elephant in the room.

“You haven’t answered my questions, sir.”

Cyrus’ words brought him back to the present. Fitz turned around and glared at him. Did he need it spelled out for him? He didn’t trust Olivia, not like he had before. Before she had betrayed him.

“Is there anything about your conversation with her that I need to know?”

Cyrus looked him directly in the eye. “No sir,” he said stiffly. “There is not. Our conversation was of a - personal nature.”

Fitz didn’t know if he should be happy about that or not. After a long moment, he nodded, his reaction as unyielding as Cyrus’ had been. 

The two men stood and stared at each other, neither one of them willing to give ground first.

Fitz broke the tableau by walking away from the scotch and its unspoken promise. Instead, he moved to one of the windows and stared blindly through it while his thoughts and feelings fought one against the other. “Very well then. Question asked and answered.”

“If there is anything else you wanted, sir?” 

Fitz began to ache inside as the adrenaline drained from his body. Suddenly he felt very, very tired and wanted nothing more than to be left alone for whatever little time he had left before the next set of responsibilities came knocking on his door. He shook his head and stood silently as Cyrus turned and walked to the door. 

Cyrus stopped, but didn’t turn around. He did, however, have one more thing to say and when he said it, his voice was surprisingly soft. 

“The answer to your first question, sir, is that Olivia Pope is doing about the same as you, Mr. President. She’s working hard, probably too hard - doing her job, and is probably not getting enough sleep. But beneath it all, down deep where she thinks nobody can see, she’s unhappy -” Cyrus paused. “well, she’s unhappy too.”

The door closed quietly behind him. 

Fitz sank slowly back into his chair, his thoughts already elsewhere.  He sat in silence for a long moment, all alone with his thoughts. After a time, Fitz reached for his phone.

“Get me a secure line, please.”