i. Alex
You hang up with Leo as the doctor rounds the corner, full of motherly pride in his help. He's really beginning to mature. The doctor draws closer to your private waiting room, and is joined by another hospital staff member, and a nurse. Their faces are somber and no no no don't tell me that anything but that you're pretty sure you don't want to hear what they've come to tell you.
You don't.
Your heart is in your throat and there's a heavy stone in you stomach and your hand is pressed against your mouth to keep your reaction inside. From afar you hear can I see my husband but it's your voice and the doctors look at each other and then lead you to a quiet room down the hall. Mike and someone else are standing guard and the back of your mind wonders is that even necessary anymore.
You enter.
It's silent in Tom's room, all the machines turned off and wires and tubes disconnected and Tom is lying so so still you never stop moving even when you sleep wake up wake up. You sink down in the chair next to his bed and hold his still cold hand in yours and it feels empty. His ring is lying in a dish on the small table nearby, where the doctors put it before his final surgery. You slide it back on.
"Tom?" you whisper, hoping for another miracle but he doesn't answer, doesn't stir, and you finally begin to sob.
ii. Mike
Alex finally exits the room you're guarding, eyes rimmed with red and arms hugging herself. She's trying to hold herself together, and that tells you exactly what the doctors have told her. You're not needed to guard this door anymore, not if the President is not there. If he's not alive. You discreetly nod to your partner. He salutes the President's door and turns down the hallway while you usher Mrs. Kirkman to a more private area.
On autopilot, you quietly radio MacLeish's personal bodyguard, and Leo's and Penny's. Contact Secret Service at the White House to send Aaron and Emily.
You can't think about it now. Later, when you're not needed, you can grieve your friend.
iii. Aaron
You've been told to wait at one of the exits facing the South Lawn driveway for the car to bring you to the hospital. Peter MacLeish's motorcade has already left, and the Kirkman kids are waiting at the other end of the room. Penny's half-asleep against her brother, who's pulled her in close. You're pretty sure that you're all being summoned to the medical center because Kirkman's not expected to pull through surgery, and you're holding your phone so tightly, you can almost see cracks in the screen. Have to deal with this the way you dealt with the Capitol bombings - compartmentalizing; first politics and logistics, grieving later.
It's harder this time, when you consider the victim a mentor, when you know he's a loving husband and caring father.
Emily gently touches your hand and you release your grip on the phone, knuckles white from pressure. She glances up at you and doesn't release your hand but gives it a quick shy squeeze instead. You return it, lending and drawing strength from each other, both ignoring that she's been distancing herself from you in the past few days.
It's going to be another long night, another tragedy for the nation to heal from, (another event needs you to manage the fall out). Dear God, can't it stop?
iv. Peter
A DC District Court judge meets you at George Washington University, to swear you in as President. It's the middle of the night, in a private waiting room in the hospital, Beth next to you and Mrs. Kirkman standing red-eyed and grief-stricken nearby. It's nothing like the very public pomp-filled start to your Vice Presidency earlier today.
Yesterday? It's after midnight, your mind supplies. Yesterday, then. The only part that's the same from that ceremony is Beth, standing at your side and holding her family's Bible.
You breathe in deeply after taking the Oath of Office. You can sense Beth hiding her smile and laughter. The plan is almost complete, now, with your swearing-in to the higher office. It's a heady feeling, to be the most powerful man in the world, knowing you can do almost anything you want.
It is sobering, though, to realize a good man, a friend, died for you to be that man. Because for all your wife's ambitions and the group's plans, Thomas Adam Kirkman was a friend to you.
Even if you were not a friend to him.
v. Leo
The ride to the hospital takes forever but feels like only two seconds at the same time and the cars reaches the hospital too quickly but not fast enough. Then the bodyguards are opening your door - surrounding you - hurrying you into the building don't lose hold of Penny. Everything seems far away and nothing sounds right. Shouldn't be static that loud and everyone is turning away why, where's Mom? Where's Dad?
The walk down that hallway also takes longer than it should and finally Mom is hugging the two of you, her face buried in your hair and arms squeezing tight is she crying Mom doesn't cry. That can only mean one thing and so you wrap your arms around her and hug her back but it feels weird not to have Dad's strong arms around the family hug. Don't want to let go and it's way too soon when Mom gives one last squeeze on your shoulder and stands up to lead you to a quiet room where there's an unfamiliar honor guard standing by for Dad.
You freeze in the doorway.
Dad can't be gone if you haven't played him any of your compositions since you moved into the White House he has to hear them and you haven't bugged him about pancakes recently I'll take toast if it's from you Dad or or or did you hug him before you left to school in the morning please please wake up you can embarrass me all the time.
Why can't you remember?
vi. Seth
This is going to be the worst press briefing of your career, the hardest speech you've ever had to write and give. All you can do is hope to get through it without getting too emotional. Slowly, you take your place at the bouquet of microphones and look out at the Washington night sky before you begin.
"Thank you for waiting. Um - I'm sure you've all been wondering what all the activity is about."
You take a deep breath and fortify yourself before continuing. "I wish I could tell you that the President is out of surgery and resting comfortably, but unfortunately I have more somber news for you."
Gasps and whispers rise the gaggle of reporters. You shoulder on. "Tonight, approximately forty-five minutes ago, President Kirkman's doctor encountered a complication during his surgery, and they were not able to stop the resulting internal bleeding. I regret having to be the one to inform you that President Kirkman has passed away."
Your voice catches why did I ever think I liked this job? "Peter MacLeish was administered the Presidential Oath of Office right here in George Washington University Medical Center approximately twenty minutes after President Kirkman was declared -" you swallow - "dead.
"He will lay in state for the public to pay respects today. A private funeral will follow and then the President will be brought to Arlington National Cemetery for burial. Mrs. Kirkman requests that she and her children be allowed privacy during this time of their grief."
Almost done just one more thing. "President Kirkman's doctors will be briefing you shortly. There will be no further questions at this time."
You're blinking black tears as you step away from the microphones and cameras, head bowed.
vii. Kimble
With a public mask of stoicism in place can't show weakness in public, you approach President Kirkman's body where it lays in state in the Rotunda.
It was only yesterday that you celebrated patriotism and resilience just outside this building - before the country's symbol of hope was shot.
Only yesterday that you were commenting on his sense of humor as he was preparing for surgery in his hospital bed, his love for living and for life shining through his pain.
Only yesterday that you accepted an impossible task, to watch the Vice President on his behalf, to protect the country from its temporary leader. The temporary leader who is now the President, and you'll continue on with the mission assigned to you by the late President.
It's the best way you know to honor the memory of a man you hope considered you a friend, a man who was a patriot until the end.
viii. Penny
The crayon that's frustrating cracks when it hits the wall across the room where you hurled it because you're trying to draw the perfect picture for Daddy but it's not coming out right and Mommy can't help you cuz Daddy usually does but he won't draw with you again and you want him to take this one with him but it can't have mistakes and now it's all wet from crying again I want Daddy I want Daddy I want Daddy.
Mommy's arms wrap around you again and you push your face into her neck and scream again while she rubs your back and rocks you it's not fair it's not Daddy's hug and you can't blow him a kiss. Mommy cuddles you until finally the tears stop coming for now and your face is sticky where they dried and your eyes are stiff from crying. They've been feeling weird like that since the night Leo woke you to go see Daddy lying so so still in the hospital and he didn't wake up when you called him.
Mommy tells you it's time to get dressed, Little Pea, put on the black dress she's found for you but that's what Daddy calls you and also he says you should wear fun colors cuz it makes him smile and you don't want to say goodbye. You want to sit by the counter when you move back home and eat Daddy's messy pancakes and eggs and color next to his blue folders and get a strong yummy hug gonna start crying again.
But you can't, not anymore, so Mommy helps you pull on your black dress and get in the big car with her and Leo to go to Ar-ling-ton to give Daddy your picture and blow him one last kiss I want my Daddy.
ix. Beth
You feel a minor pang of sorrow when you see Alex Kirkman and her children dressed in mourner's clothing and a small flicker of sympathy when the teenage boy snaps a shaky salute at his father's coffin as its lowered into the ground.
You follow Peter - the President, now - back to the motorcade, back to your new home, to the White House.
The funeral would have been moving, you suppose, if it was for someone you cared about.
