1
Sam was having a bad week.
Less than three days ago, Sam learned that the President had Multiple Sclerosis and covered it up during the campaign into their administration. Subsequently, he'd been told that concealing this was technically a national fraud conspiracy, and the White House would be announcing the MS to the country. There might or might not be a re-election campaign. All of this happened before yesterday. Yesterday, Mrs. Landingham was killed in a car accident. An hour ago, Sam found out there was asbestos in the East Room, which was where they had been planning to hold the press conference. And did Sam mention that he was the last Senior Staffer to find out about the MS? That Joey Lucas, who didn't even work at the White House, knew before he did? That he was expected to do all the prep for the conference- in which they had no clue what the President would say about running again- alongside his normal work while acting like nothing was wrong? That he hadn't seen or spoken to Cerulean in days because of all this and felt like the worst dad-to-be ever?
When this is all over, Sam thought as he walked into his office that morning with four hours of sleep to tide him over, I'm taking a day off and I am spending it entirely with Cerule.
He had a free moment, so Sam sat at his desk and tried to relax for just a few minutes. Taking deep breaths, he thought about good things. When the…scandal was over, he'd get to leave the office. He'd spend a whole day with Cerulean, just the two of them, and he'd explain why he'd been so absent. They'd had a nice arrangement before the whole MS mess started eating Sam's time. Her new foster parents, the Dosils, let Sam pick Cerulean up from school some days and take her to the West Wing. They spent Saturday afternoons together, though probably not this week. And in a few months (or so CPS said), Cerulean would be legally his daughter, and Sam would have much more time with her. He'd work at home when she was done with school, and if there was no re-election campaign, he'd find a new job with better hours-
"Sam." Kathy opened the door to his office, interrupting Sam's attempt to relax before he plunged back into this awful day. Sam looked up with a sigh.
"Yeah?"
"You have a phone call."
"Is it terribly important?" Sam asked. He had five minutes before he had to be anywhere.
"Metro Police, so maybe," Kathy said.
"Metro?" Sam repeated. Kathy shrugged. Sam picked up the phone as she went back to her desk.
"This is Sam Seaborn."
"Mr. Seaborn, this is Officer Kendall, from the Metropolitan Police," a slow, drawling voice said. "I'm sorry to inform you that there has been a car collision this morning."
"A car collision?" What the hell did this have to do with him? Everyone he could possibly be listed as an emergency contact for was here or out of state- oh, fuck.
"Yes, sir. Cerulean Barber was involved, and you are her emergency contact," Kendall said. "She and her brothers were being driven to school by their foster father when another car impacted theirs."
"How bad was it?" Sam said, praying that something this week could go his way even just a little bit.
"It's fairly serious, sir. I understand Cerulean is being prepped for surgery right now," Kendall said. Fuck. "You'd best come in and speak to the doctors."
"Right, right, of course." Sam rubbed his forehead. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
"I'll be there when you do." Officer Kendall hung up. Sam set the phone down. Kathy had shut his door before leaving, and he allowed himself to lose it for a second.
"God fucking damn it!" Sam felt overwhelmed, fear-filled tears threatening to claw their way out. He shoved them down with all the mental fortitude he could muster as he stood and walked to his door.
"Kathy!"
Hannah Seaborn had been planning to surprise her son and soon-to-be granddaughter with a visit. She was on the East Coast with friends anyway, and had planned to stop in D.C. before going back to California. Hannah was in Richmond, Virginia when she got a call from Sam's office.
"Hello, Kathy, dear. How are you?" Hannah said when she picked up the cell phone.
"I'm fine, Mrs. Seaborn, but we have a problem. How soon can you get a flight to D.C.?" Kathy said, voice urgent. Hannah's heart skipped a beat.
"I'm in Virginia right now. What's happened?" she asked.
"It's Cerulean," Kathy said. "There was a car accident."
It was too quiet.
Sam expected the hospital to be as busy as it had been after the Rosslyn shooting: lights, sounds, people rushing and shouting, the communal buzz of adrenaline. Instead, it was calm.
The receptionist took Sam's name and checked his White House ID. Her colleague paged Officer Kendall while she printed out a visitor's badge. After two or three minutes (which felt like an eternity to Sam for various reasons), a police man arrived. He was an older black man with graying curly hair and a neat beard.
"Mr. Seaborn?" he said. Sam nodded. "I'm Officer Kendall. If you'd follow me please." Sam and Kendall began down the hallway.
"Is Cerulean in surgery yet?" Sam asked.
"She is. There's some talk of internal bleeding, so they moved very quickly," Kendall said. "I'm taking you to the ICU; her brothers and foster father are there. Zachary and Mr. Dosil are mostly uninjured but Jason is in critical condition."
"How bad?"
"Very, poor boy. Not surprising, though," Kendall said. "See, their car was hit on the passenger side by a bigger car, and Jason was on that side, so he received most of the impact. Cerulean was in the middle."
"Jesus," Sam breathed. "And what happened with the other car?"
"The driver got out and ran. We're looking for him now," Kendall replied. "We have every reason to believe this was no accident. Onlookers say that the driver not only saw their car, but seemed to be waiting for it."
"You have got to be kidding me," Sam said. Kendall shook his head.
"'Fraid not, sir. It's a sorry business, all of it."He stopped outside the door to an ICU room. "This is Jason's room, and where they'll bring Cerulean after her surgery. Zachary and Mr. Dosil are waiting in here for the doctor to come explain the procedures. You can wait with them."
"Thank you, officer. If you wouldn't mind keeping my office updated on the search for the other driver-"
"Consider it done. My prayers are with your girl," Kendall said. "Call me if you need anything." He handed Sam a card with his number and turned to go. Sam went into the room.
There was only one bed in the room, despite there being space for two. Jason lay in the bed farthest from the door. The bright morning light fell on him, making his fair skin look terrifyingly pale. From where Sam stood, Jason looked unscathed. But this was the good side, Sam thought, knowing the brunt of the injuries were on the right side. Two chairs had been pulled up next to the bed, one for Zach and one for George. Zach's left arm was in a cast and sling. George had bandages running up his arm too, and an impressive bruise forming on the side of his face. Both had cuts littered over their skin, probably from broken glass. Zach stared at Jason intently. George looked up when he heard Sam come in.
"Hey, Sam."
"Hi, George. I just spoke to Officer Kendall," Sam said, coming to stand by Jason's bed. "How are you feeling?"
"I've been better," George replied. "You look awful."
"Thanks," Sam said dryly. "It's been a rough week and it's not looking up yet." He looked at Zach. "Zach? You okay, man?" Zach continued staring at Jason like he hadn't heard.
"Hasn't said a word since we got here," George said. "Can't blame him- a real hero, this guy. He got his wits together pretty fast and pulled the little ones out of the car before the cops even got there." Sam nodded, not mentioning but definitely thinking that he'd been told to always wait for paramedics before moving someone with serious injuries.
"How's Jason?" Sam asked. George shrugged.
"We're waiting for him to stabilize before getting a prognosis," he said. "Did you see a doctor on your way in? We're supposed to be getting an update on Cerulean."
"No, I didn't," Sam replied. "Is Christine here yet?"
"Trust me, you would have heard if Christine were here," George said. "She doesn't have much of a quiet setting, especially in situations like this."
"I have a friend like that," Sam said, picturing Josh harassing doctors and nurses for answers.
"The door to the room opened and Sam turned. A youngish man walked in. He had a lot of hair and dark framed glasses. There were purple letters sewn onto the pocket of his lab coat that named him 'Whiz Kid.'
"Mr. Dosil and Mr. Seaborn?" he said. The men nodded. "I'm Luis Nunez, the observing surgeon. I've been asked to fill you in on Cerulean Barber's procedure. Would you like me to wait for Mrs. Dosil?"
"I really can't wait. If we could just start now, it would make things a lot easier," Sam said.
"I can fill Christine in when she gets here," George said. "Go on, Doctor." Dr. Nunez nodded as he came over to stand beside Sam.
"Of course. Miss Barber came in with internal bleeding. Her pulmonary artery was damaged, sending blood into the chest cavity and lungs. We'll be repairing the artery as we remove the blood from the places it shouldn't be," Dr. Nunez said. "You should be aware that this is a very risky procedure. There isn't a guarantee of success here." Sam nodded, heart plummeting in his chest. "But our staff has some of the best surgeons in the country, including one of the most awarded pediatric surgeons. She's in good hands."
"I know," Sam said.
"I imagine you do, sir," Dr. Nunez said. "You aren't staying, but I can have the staff keep you updated if you'd like."
"That'd be great, thank you. I'm going to stay as long as I can, but my mother should be here shortly to stay," Sam said. "If that's allowed- I'm not sure how the rules of the ICU apply here." Dr. Nunez paused.
"I'm not sure, but I'll find out. I've got to get back to the OR now, is there anything I can get for any of you?" He looked at Zach, who was still fixed on Jason like his gaze would keep Jason alive. Zach did not answer.
"I don't think so," George said.
"Hey, Toby!" Josh barged into Toby's office, his usual frantic manner made even more so by stress.
"Josh?" Toby said shortly, scribbling out another sentence in another draft.
"You seen Sam lately? He's supposed to meet with Babbish and me in like five minutes," Josh said.
"Don't you think I have enough to do without keeping track of where Sam is?" Toby replied. "I can't even do that on a normal day."
"I thought you might have sent him somewhere, coz he didn't meet with C.J. earlier either," Josh said.
"I did not."
"I guess I'll try and track him down then."
"Ask Kathy. Knowing Sam's location actually is part of her job description," Toby said, scratching something out.
"I would, but she looked busy," Josh replied. Toby turned to Josh with no small amount of incredulity.
"And I don't?"
When Hannah arrived at the hospital, a tall woman with dirty blonde hair was speaking to the receptionist at the desk. Neither appeared very pleased with each other.
"-if you would just wait here, ma'am, you'll be escorted to your husband shortly," the receptionist was saying as Hannah approached.
"If you would tell what room it is, I could find it myself," the woman replied irritably.
"It's hospital policy regarding the ICU," the receptionist said, tone very polite and patient. She turned to Hannah, who was hanging back behind the tall woman. "Can I help you, ma'am?"
"I'm Hannah Seaborn, I'm here to see the Barber children," Hannah said as the tall woman stepped aside to allow her access to the desk.
"I just need your identification, then you can wait with Mrs. Dosil to be escorted to the ICU," the receptionist said. Hannah handed over her driver's license and the tall woman studied her.
"You're Sam's…mother?" she asked. Hannah nodded. "I'm Christine Dosil. The foster mother."
"Yes, Sam's mentioned you," Hannah said. "It's nice to meet you, though I wish it were under better circumstances."
"Your license, ma'am." The receptionist handed Hannah's license back.
"I'm assuming you don't know any more than I do at this point," Christine said.
"Probably less. Sam's assistant called me a little less than a half-hour ago," Hannah replied. A young woman, probably a volunteer from the college attached to the hospital, walked past them towards the desk.
"You called?" she said, adjusting her turquoise hijab.
"Rahma, please take Mrs. Dosil and Mrs. Seaborn to ICU #7, Jason Barber," the receptionist said.
"Oh, okay." Rahma turned to the two blonde women. "Follow me, please. The ICU is this way." She began walking down the hall. Hannah and Christine followed after her.
"I still think I could have found it myself," Christine grumbled.
"I'm sure you could, but they don't want people wandering around the ICU," Hannah said. "What do we know about the accident at this point?"
"We know it was certainly no accident," Christine answered. "The police are saying it was planned."
"Planned?"
"When I get my hands on the man responsible, I'm going to rip his f- damn throat out," Christine said, balling her fists. "Did Kathy tell you about Jason?"
"No, I just heard that it was bad. Critical condition?" Hannah said. Christine nodded.
"Incredibly. He's so mangled they wanted to keep Zach away, but they couldn't get the poor kid to leave his brother," Christine growled, fury evident in her voice. "Who plans to hurt children? Especially when they've already been through so much?"
"I don't know," Hannah murmured. Her stomach churned now, having been unsettled since she spoke to Kathy. Hannah knew Cerulean's story well from Sam, but it seemed to be starting a new chapter of hardship.
Rahma turned to look at them over her shoulder.
"I don't want to pry, but is this Jason Barber the son of Thomas Barber?" she said. "I only ask because my Domestic Violence class has been following the story."
"He is," Christine answered. "He and his siblings were doing much better until this morning."
"Oh, I have no doubt! Foster parents are pretty great, you know, most of the time," Rahma said. "But Thomas Barber just got convicted last week, so this is a weird coincidence, don't you think?"
"It is," Hannah said. Or perhaps it isn't, she thought. They reached a door and Rahma stopped.
"Well, if you guys need anything, there's a bunch of us interns floating around today," Rahma said. "Most of us are pretty helpful, but I'd avoid Kevin. He's…um, a little difficult."
"Which one's Kevin?" Christine asked.
"The tall white guy in the camo. You'll know him when you see him, he's…distinctive," Rahma replied. "Good luck with everything." She left. Christine and Hannah went into the room.
There was one bed in the room, though there was space for two. A thin, horrifyingly pale boy lay in that bed and Hannah knew it was Jason. He had several thin cuts on the side of his body Hannah could see, so she imagined that his other side was probably much worse. Sam stood behind an older boy with his arm in a cast and a small man with bandages up his side. The boy had wild brown curls, one side matted with sweat and probably some blood, and big brown eyes fixed on his brother. The man was very tanned and had thinning dark hair. Christine shut the door and the two men looked up.
"Hey, Chris," the man said, waving tiredly. Sam looked surprised as Christine walked to her husband.
"You guys got here fast," he said. Hannah was perturbed to see that he looked absolutely exhausted, stress etching his face. She hadn't seen him this ragged since he battled with mono in his senior year of high school. He seemed to not have had much sleep, if the circles under his eyes were any indication, and his clothes had been worn for at least a day more than was usually recommended for a single outfit.
"I was in Virginia, I was already on my way," Hannah said. "Kathy said I could come."
"Well, that's great." Sam came around the bed to her. "I've got to get back to the office anyway, so this is George-" He pointed to the man. "-and that's Zach, and that's Jason." He gestured to the boys, first the curly-haired one and then the pale one in the bed. "You've already met Christine, so George can fill you guys in on everything. You can call Kathy, Ginger, or Bonnie at any point if you need me, you've got their extensions-"
"You're not staying?" Christine demanded. Sam and Hannah turned to her. Hannah noticed Christine's hand by Jason's less injured side. A pink blanket had appeared in his hand. "You're going to be Cerulean's father, you can't leave!"
"I know," Sam said, looking resigned. "But I can't, Christine, I'm sorry. Work is…crazy right now-"
"You haven't seen her in three days!"
"I know." Sam's fists clenched and Hannah saw the pain flash in his eyes. She put a hand on his arm and he relaxed slightly. "Christine, there's…something I can't talk about right now, but you'll understand tonight. I have to go. I don't want to." Christine huffed, but her anger was mildly mollified.
"Whatever it is better be damn important," she said.
"It is, I promise-"
"Mr. Seaborn will take care of Cerule." A quiet voice spoke, causing them all to turn to Zach. Both Sam and George looked shocked. Zach had nothing more to say, lapsing back into silence.
"Thank you, Zach," Sam said. "I'm gonna head out, but if anything happens, call," He kissed Hannah on the cheek and took her hand off his arm. Sam left, despite probably wanting desperately to stay. Hannah wanted him to stay too. But she just turned back to the Dosils and Barbers instead of stopping her son.
"Listen, Christine, cut him some slack when he comes back," George said quietly. "He's heading to a funeral later."
"I didn't know that. How was I supposed to know that?" Christine said. She did, under the anger and fear she was overwhelmed with, look slightly apologetic.
"You weren't, I'm just sayin'."
"Sam understands the stress you're going through right now, he's going through the same," Hannah said. "So a kind word later will smooth things over. He's very forgiving."
"I'll try to remember that," Christine said, sincere. She did, however, quickly change the subject. "George, what's going on with Cerulean?" Her husband sighed.
"You might want to sit down…"
Sam walked into Senior Staff several minutes late, Margaret's disapproval at his back. He was then met with four exasperated looks.
"Well, look who decided to join us at last," Leo said.
"I'm sorry, I was-"
"I don't care where you were. You weren't here," Leo interrupted. Sam imagined Christine would say something similar later. "You blew off Josh and C.J., and now you're late for Staff. We've got less than fifteen minutes before the funeral, so sit down and try to catch up, would you?"
"But Leo-"
"Sit down," Leo said again, more ice in his voice this time. The command to shut up was implicitly obvious, so Sam complied in silence.
Leo and Toby returned to the conversation they'd been having. Sam felt C.J.'s eyes on him, but he couldn't focus on the conversation. He kept seeing the mutilated boy back in GWU, his bones bent in directions they weren't supposed to and some of them pulverized. Sam wondered what Cerulean looked like as she was being operated on. He wondered if it had hurt, the actual crash, or if she'd lost consciousness right off. Was she scared? God, if she had been conscious, she must have been terrified. He should be at the hospital. He should have made an effort to see her this week, screw work-
"You got that, Sam?" Leo snapped. Sam had gotten none of that, but he nodded anyway. "All right. Everybody out. I'll see you at the cathedral." The staff stood.
Josh was the first out, ducking away towards his office before anyone could talk to him. That wasn't surprising to Sam at all; Josh handled grief like he handled every difficult emotion- he didn't talk about it and pretended it wasn't there. Toby walked slightly ahead of Sam, but turned to his deputy when they were in the hall.
"Snap out of it." Toby's order was quiet and it took Sam a minute to realise his boss was talking to him.
"What?"
"I said, snap out of it! God, Sam, get your head out of the clouds!" Toby stormed off. Sam felt a sudden urge to follow Toby and tell him exactly where to shove it in no uncertain terms, but instead he clamped his mouth shut. This wasn't Toby's fault. This wasn't Leo's fault. No matter how much they made all this harder.
Sam felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see C.J., who looked fine, but her eyes betrayed that she was feeling about as awful as he felt.
"Hey, Sam, about what happened in there-"
"I'm sorry I blew you off," Sam said quickly as they started down the hall again.
"It's fine, don't worry about it," C.J. said, which Sam found surprising. "Look, Leo and Toby…they're being hard on you because they can't take it out on the people they really want to. It's not you." Sam nodded.
"Yeah."
"It's not you. You are dealing with this in your way and they're dealing with this in theirs."
"Yeah."
"It's this whole thing, you know. It's not you."
"Yeah."
"Are you still listening or are you saying yeah when I stop talking?" C.J. asked.
"I'm listening, C.J., I'm a great listener," Sam said.
"You weren't listening to Leo at all," C.J. pointed out. Sam shrugged. "Sam, are you all right?" She stopped him to look her in the eye. Sam felt torn- on the one hand, he really wanted to talk to somebody about Cerulean. On the other, they were supposed to be getting ready to go to the cathedral and frankly C.J. had more than enough on her plate.
"How are any of us supposed to be all right today?" Sam said, splitting the difference.
"Most of us are pretty much the same way we've been since we found out, but you seem worse this morning," C.J. said. "Where'd you go? Are you okay?" She held his gaze until Sam was compelled to answer honestly.
"I'm not okay," he admitted. "Something else happened, and I had to go take care of it. I didn't want to blow you off-"
"I got over that at Staff, Sam, when you came in looking like you'd been hit by a truck," C.J. said. "We don't have a lot of time now, so when we get back, you find me and we'll talk. Or you can talk to someone else, like Leo or Toby, but talk to someone, okay?" Sam nodded. C.J. smiled at him. "It's gonna be okay, Sam."
"I hope you're right," Sam said, thinking about Jason again. God, he should really be at the hospital right now…
Zach sat a silent vigil over his little brother. He pretended that he couldn't hear Christine and George talking about him in hushed tones, as Christine tried to insist he shouldn't be on this side of Jason. Zach knew he was not moving from this spot until Cerulean came out of surgery.
This is all my fault, he thought as he watched the slow, struggling rise and fall of Jason's chest. Zach could still see all the blood that had sprayed over the back of the car. It had covered Jason and Cerulean, Jason nearly trapped by the mangled car door, Cerulean's head lolling over her seatbelt. Fred the Bear had fallen out of Cerulean's hand and was by Jason's feet in the twisted metal of the door.
This is all my fault.
They're my responsibility. I should have protected them. I should have put Jason in the middle and Cerulean in my seat, then-
"Zach?" The Hannah woman, Mr. Seaborn's mom, put a hand on Zach's good shoulder. Her hand was tiny and warm with long pink fingernails. "Zach, I'm going to get some food for everyone. Would you like anything?" Zach shook his head.
"Zach, man, you're gonna need to eat sooner or later," George said. Zach didn't answer that.
"I'll grab something for him to have later," Hannah compromised. "Christine, what do you suggest?"
This is all my fault.
Sam, as a pallbearer, had to pay attention at the funeral. That didn't stop his mind from wandering.
Two car collisions in two days. One accidental, as far as Sam knew, and one intentional. The first was fatal, and Sam could only hope the second wasn't. God, who deliberately rams their car into someone else's? Did this unknown asshole know who would be in the car, that their victims would be three battered kids? Had it been a plan to kill them? Jason, fragile angelic-looking Jason, was fighting to breathe and Cerulean's fate was in the hands of a surgical team. Was this the plan?
More importantly, was this His plan?
Sam was not religious, never had been. Sure, he'd gone to Christmas and Easter Masses, baptisms, weddings, and funerals. He'd never gone to church outside of those kinds of things and he certainly didn't give much thought to God or any sort of Divine Plan on a regular basis. Today, though, today Sam was thinking about them a little too much.
Why? The Barbers had just gotten away from their evil dick of a father and a small devil of a brother. Why would it be now that something like this would happen? Sam was adopting Cerulean. She was on her way to if not a normal life at least a better one than she'd had. For Zach and Jason, there was talk of them being permanently placed with Christine and George. Things had been going well until some asshole decided that couldn't be so. Then again, Mrs. Landingham had just bought that new car when she'd gotten into her accident. Maybe that was how it worked. Maybe when things got too good, Sam thought as he helped lift the casket, things had to end.
Sam could almost hear Mrs. Landingham scolding him.
"Now, Sam, don't think like that. God isn't angry or small to do that kind of thing. Things happen. They just do. Don't blame Him, coz that's not gonna help Cerulean or Jason one bit."
Hannah's phone rang as she was walking down the hall back to the ICU. She ducked out of the way to a secluded corner and juggled the food she was carrying. Finally Hannah extricated her phone from her pocket.
"Hello?" she said softly, hoping no nurses would walk by.
"Hey, Han, it's Joseph. Why are you so quiet?" Oh, damn it.
Joseph was Hannah's ex-husband. After their rather messy divorce and Sam's vitriolic emails to his father, the former spouses had sat down for a very long talk. They'd managed to work through their mistakes (mostly on his part) and betrayed feelings (mostly on hers) enough to make peace. Joseph had not reached that point with Sam. And though Joseph was eager to repair their relationship, the last thing Sam would want today was his father being introduced to the mess.
"It's not a good time, Joe," Hannah said in a hushed voice.
"I won't be long then. Have you seen Sam yet?" Joseph asked.
"Yes, but things are frantic right now, I really can't talk."
"Is everything all right, Hannah?" Joseph said, sounding concerned.
"Not really," Hannah replied. "I'd tell you more, but I have to get back and you know how Sam will be if you get involved." Joseph sighed.
"Yeah, I know. I'll let you go, but gimme a call when you can, would you?"
"Of course, Joe. I'll call you later."
"Okay. Take care of Sam." He hung up and Hannah shoved the phone back into her pocket. She continued back to the ICU.
"We were just saying we should send out a search party," Christine said when Hannah entered the room. Hannah smiled.
"So sorry about the delay. Sam's father called, but I got him off the phone quickly enough." She handed George a sandwich from the bag. "There you are."
"Thanks. I don't think Sam's ever mentioned his dad," George said. Hannah winced.
"Well, that's not surprising." She gave Christine a sandwich as the younger woman arched an eyebrow.
"I'm guessing there's a story to be had there," Christine said.
"Oh, it's really not that interesting. We'll just say that Sam and his father have issues," Hannah said. "Zach, are you hungry?" The boy shook his head again.
"That must make holidays difficult," Christine remarked. Hannah shrugged as she set the bag aside.
"We haven't really spent the holidays together since Sam was in school," she said. "He is on the other side of the country, after all, it's a bit difficult."
"What, where do you live?"
"Orange County, California," Hannah answered. Christine's eyes widened.
"And you're his only family?"
"Yes, but-"
"You live all the way in California and he's adopting a child on his own?" Christine said, probably louder than was recommended.
"Not now, Chris," George said.
"Yes, now, George! I've had my doubts about this since the beginning of all this," Christine said. "I like Sam, I do, he's a good guy. But I don't think he gets what being a parent is like. I don't know that he knows how much responsibility he's taking on here."
"Come on, who did at the start? We didn't," George said.
"No, Christine is right," Hannah said. "Sam doesn't know yet what being a parent is like. He's on his way, but he's not there yet. And he's going to need help, but I'm moving to be closer and he's got his friends."
"Do you think that's going to be enough?" Christine asked.
"I know that he loves Cerulean, and he will do his all to take care of her," Hannah replied. "That should be enough, I think."
"That's all I can ask for," Christine said, looking slightly relieved. "I just want the kids to be all right."
After they got back to the office, Kathy, Bonnie, and Ginger all checked their messages right away. Neither Metro nor Hannah had called, which was both frustrating and relieving. They turned to each other with slumped shoulders and red eyes.
"Do you think she's going to be okay?" Ginger asked quietly.
"I don't know. They saved Josh," Bonnie said.
"I think that was a different kind of surgeon," Kathy said, moving to her computer again. "But maybe all their surgeons are miracle workers." Charlie walked into the bullpen as she said that and did a double-take at her words.
"Whoa, why are we talking about surgeons? Something happen?" he asked.
"Cerulean's in the middle of cardiac surgery," Bonnie said as Kathy began her Internet search. "She and her brothers were in a car crash this morning."
"You gotta be kidding me," Charlie said, stunned. "You have got to be kidding me."
"I wish."
"Her father got convicted two days ago! Two!" Charlie exclaimed. "This can't be a coincidence."
"The police said it was probably on purpose, so you might be right," Kathy said. Sam came into the bullpen.
"Kathy, could you look up-"
"Already on it," she interrupted, looking up at him. "Most pediatric cardiology deals with heart defects, I'm going to check out regular cardiology."
"Great. Thanks."
"No word from Metro," Bonnie said.
"Or your mom," Ginger added. Sam nodded.
"Okay."
"Sam, I just heard. There anything I can do?" Charlie said. Sam turned to him.
"Know any good psychics? I could use a preview of the next day or so," Sam said.
"My last psychic told me I'd win the lottery last month. So, no good ones," Charlie replied. Sam shrugged.
"Worth a shot."
"Do you want me to let the President know? Or I could find a few minutes for you to-"
"No, no, he's got enough to worry about. I'll tell him when things calm down a little," Sam said. Toby, C.J., and Josh, moving almost like a singular unit, walked towards Toby's office.
"Sam! Get in here!" Toby shouted as they went in. Sam sighed.
"Right. Keep me updated, guys." He followed the other Senior Staffers. Charlie turned back to Kathy.
"Do they know?" he said, gesturing to the office. Kathy shrugged.
"I didn't tell them. Sam should have."
"Yeah, you're right," Charlie said. "Anyway, I was looking for Donna. Do you know if she's back yet?"
"I think she's back at her desk by now," Bonnie said. "Why are you looking for Donna?"
"The President wants someone to find out more on the storm," Charlie answered. "Listen, if you could call me when there's news on Cerulean-"
"Sure thing, Charlie."
"Hey, Donna!" Donna quickly wiped her face dry as Charlie came up to her desk.
"Yeah, Charlie?" she said.
"The President wants you to go across the street and find out what you can about the storm," Charlie said.
"I have to get Josh's meetings in order first."
"It can wait til you've done that. Listen, have you heard about the Cerulean thing?" Charlie asked.
"Cerulean thing?" Donna repeated. "There's a Cerulean thing?"
"I'm gonna take that as a no," Charlie said.
"What happened with Cerulean, Charlie?"
"Kathy just told me she's in surgery. There was a car crash this morning, her brothers were in it too."
"Oh my God. How bad was it?" Donna said, heart in her throat.
"I don't know any details. You'll have to ask Kathy or Bonnie," Charlie said. "I just know she's in cardiac surgery."
"Son of a- why can't anything go right this week?" Donna exclaimed. "This is the second car accident in two days!"
"I know. Someone up there has got one twisted sense of humor," Charlie said, glancing towards the sky. "But the police don't think it was an accident. I don't have any details, but Kathy says they're investigating."
'No news is good news,' Sam kept telling himself. 'If I don't get any news, nothing is going wrong.'
He sat with C.J., Josh, and Toby in Toby's office. They had been quiet for the first minute or so, and finally C.J. spoke.
"We'll call them Answer A and Answer B," she said.
"Yeah," Josh said.
"'Mr. President, does this mean you won't be seeking a second term?'" C.J. said, pretending she were the lucky reporter to get to ask the million-dollar question. She switched gears to the President: "Answer A is 'you bet. I will absolutely be seeking a second term. Looking forward to the campaign. There is great work yet to be done.'" Toby and Sam sat silently. Sam was still having trouble focusing, mind torn between the surgery and the nagging thought this was a ridiculous conversation to have.
"Yes," Josh said. He really wasn't contributing much to the conversation, which he seemed to realise as C.J. said:
"Answer B…"
"'Are you outta your mind? I can't possibly win the election,'" Josh answered as the President. "'I lied about a degenerative illness, I'm the target of a grand jury investigation, and Congress is about to take me out to lunch. I'd sooner have my family take off their clothes and dance the Tarantella on the Truman Balcony than go through a campaign with this around my neck.'" Again, there was quiet. C.J. sipped from her water bottle while she thought it over. Sam personally thought it did sound like something the President would say, just not in front of the Press.
"Think that's too on the nose?" Josh asked. C.J. nodded.
"I do," she said. Sam looked down, thinking once again that they really shouldn't be having this conversation.
"I'm going to bring it up again," he said.
"Why?" C.J. said, exasperated. Sam's head snapped up to look at her.
"Coz I got shouted down the first three times and I work here just like you do. Can I help you?" he bit off. There was a lot more venom in that than was probably necessary but Sam was having a really shitty day. C.J. stared at him for a moment.
"Sorry," she said. Sam started to pace.
"I think we have to explore ways of calling this off," he said.
"Sam," Toby began.
"I think it might be a mistake to send him on at a moment when we're trying to demonstrate-"
"Listen-"
"We don't know what they're talking about in there, Toby! We don't know if he's running or not!" Sam shouted. "I think we have to-"
"There's no way. The story's leaked, it's out there. We're doing it. Don't worry, Sam, it's going to be fine," Toby said. He got up from his chair and walked to the desk. "They're lighting him from outside the window."
Ginger opened the door and Sam's heart stopped for a second. But she didn't look at him.
"Toby…" The Communications Director sighed.
"I have a meeting with Greg Summerhays, for reasons past understanding," he grumbled. Sam took that as a cue to leave, which was fine by him. He went to Kathy's desk.
"Anything?" Sam asked. She shook her head.
"I left some information on the procedures on your desk."
"Thanks." 'No news is good news,' Sam thought.
"Sam!" He turned to see C.J. coming towards him. She looked more upset than she had before, which was saying something.
"Look, C.J., I shouldn't have-"
"In your office. Now." She grabbed him by the shoulder and nearly dragged him into his office. There was definitely a metaphor for Sam's current situation in there somewhere; if only he had the brainpower to figure it out. C.J. shut the door and let go of Sam. She and Sam faced each other.
"What the hell is going on?" C.J. demanded in a low voice. "I don't care that you're snappish, we're all doing that. But when Ginger walked in, you looked as though you were going to have a heart attack. What's going on?" Sam ran a hand over his face.
"Cerulean," he said softly. "It's Cerulean. She's in surgery right now to repair her pulmonary artery and siphon blood out of her chest cavity." Saying it out loud hurt; it was odd, though, he'd said it out loud this morning to Kathy, but he'd been in shock still. Now, as C.J.'s face fell, her posture tightening in fear, saying it out loud was like a sucker punch.
"Oh, God," C.J. breathed.
"Cerulean and her brothers were on their way to school when another car crashed into their foster father's. The police have reason to believe this wasn't an accident," Sam continued. "Jason is in critical condition. The doctors don't know if he'll make it through the next twenty-four hours."
"Oh, God. Sam, why didn't you say something at Staff?" C.J. asked. "Leo nearly bit your head off!"
"I tried. You saw, you were there!" Sam said. "Leo doesn't care what else is going on-"
"He doesn't think it's something like this!"
"How does that make it any better?" Sam asked, frustration boiling over. "Leo is perfectly content to think I'm flaky, and frankly I don't see why I should have to prove I'm not when my track record should already do that!"
"Okay, don't tell Leo. Tell Toby," C.J. said. "Or Josh, but Sam, you have to tell somebody!"
"I told you," Sam replied. "I told you, I told Kathy. Kathy told Bonnie, Ginger, and Charlie."
"How about someone who outranks you? Because at this rate the janitor's gonna know before the Chief of Staff," C.J. said. Sam sighed. She was right, as she almost always was.
"Look, we've all got a lot to do today," he began. "After the Press Conference. Once we know whether or not there's going to be a re-election. Then I'll tell Toby." C.J. nodded.
"Sounds like a plan, Sam-shine." She gave him a small, tired smile. Sam returned it as best he could. C.J. walked out of his office. Sam went to the door and looked at Kathy, who shook her head.
'No news is good news.'
Leo left the Oval. As the Chief of Staff passed the desk, Charlie looked up.
"Hey, Leo."
"Yeah, Charlie?" Leo said, stopping.
"Did you talk to Sam at all?" Charlie asked, looking concerned. Leo resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Oh, I talked to Sam all right," he said.
"So, you know what's going on."
"Honestly, Charlie, I don't need too many details. I have more important things to worry about," Leo replied. Charlie seemed a little confused by that. What did he care that Sam was ditching work? Leo wondered.
"Have you told the President?" Charlie said. Leo nearly laughed.
"Charlie, don't you think the President has enough to worry about?" he said. "I'm going to my office now. This Sam thing will take care of itself, all right, Charlie?" Leo walked away with that, mind already on the next thing he had to do.
The ICU was very quiet. The three adults were driven crazy by the insistent beeping, the only noise in the room when they weren't speaking. Each of them had walked out at some point to the general waiting rooms, where there were other people talking and TVs going. One was on ZNN, which was the one Hannah checked when she walked over. Around noon or so, ZNN started talking about the President going on live tonight, followed by a press conference. Hannah was listening to the reporter say that there was no confirmed reason from the White House yet, but a senior White House official had said that there was an announcement from President.
"Think that's what Sam's working on?" Christine appeared beside Hannah. The older woman turned to her, barely surprised at the sudden words.
"Yes. I imagine this is exactly what he's working on," Hannah said.
"Has he said what it might be about?"
"No." Hannah looked back at the screen. "He said earlier he couldn't talk about it, do you remember?"
"Right. Right, I forgot," Christine said. "My mind is a little faulty right now." Hannah nodded. "Have you ever done anything like this before?"
"Waiting in a hospital for a surgery to end? Or waiting for a child's condition to stabilize?" Hannah suggested.
"Either."
"Not exactly. Sam went down hard with mononucleosis in his senior year of high school and had to be hospitalized, but he wasn't in nearly as bad condition," Hannah said. "I wish I knew how to make this easier for you." Christine nodded. They watched the TV a little longer.
"Mrs. Seaborn?" Hannah turned to see a young windswept woman, who she recognised faintly. "My name's Ginger. I work with Sam."
"Oh, yes! Ginger, hello," Hannah said. Ginger, slightly damp, held a canvas bag. She held it out to Hannah. "What's this?"
"Well, we were talking and thought you might need things to pass the time in here," Ginger said. "We gathered books and crosswords and sudokus, anything to keep you guys busy while you…wait."
"That's very kind of you, Ginger." Hannah accepted the bag as Christine looked on. It was heavier than she expected; the women who worked in Sam's office must have gone out of their way to collect this. "Oh, you shouldn't have."
"We wanted to do something. Cerulean's like family," Ginger said. "Has anything changed? I haven't been in the office for a while, so I didn't hear if there were any updates." Hannah and Christine exchanged a look.
"They brought in another surgeon a few minutes ago," Christine said. "We heard them on the PA a few minutes ago." Ginger bit her lip.
"That's probably not good, is it?"
"Probably not," Hannah agreed. "But thank you for coming, I really appreciate it."
"How did you get in here?" Christine asked. "The ICU has a family-only policy."
"I told them I was Sam's sister," Ginger said, unabashed. "When Kathy gave them the names of Sam's family, she put mine on the list in case we needed to get someone over here and Sam couldn't come."
"I'm not sure if that's really smart or somewhat scary," Christine remarked. Ginger shrugged.
"It's for Cerulean," Hannah said. "Thank you again, Ginger, I know Sam will-"
"Mrs. Dosil? Mrs. Seaborn?" Rahma the intern approached them. "Officer Kendall is looking for you. He says there's news he has to tell you."
"A what?"
"A hit man," Kathy repeated. Sam ran a hand over his face and quashed a desire to shoot somebody.
Kathy had grabbed Sam after he left a last-minute prep on the television address with the President and pulled him into his office. She'd gotten a call from Officer Kendall about the driver who'd hit the Dosil car. His name was James Macintosh, and he was on the FBI's most wanted list. He was a killer for hire, according to the FBI agent now coordinating with Kendall, and there was not a doubt in any of their minds that Macintosh was their man.
"Who hires a hit man to kill kids?" Sam asked.
"They're trying to question him now, but Macintosh won't cooperate," Kathy said. "He's invoking his Miranda rights."
"He's a hit man!"
"He still has rights," Kathy replied. "But Kendall says they're working with three options here: Thomas Barber, someone high up at Barber Inc., or Macintosh got the wrong car. Thomas Barber got convicted the other day. Barber Inc.'s shares are plummeting, so one of the shareholders or executives could have a beef. So it could have been either of those or Macintosh could have messed up. We don't know much at the point."
"Is there anything we do know?" Sam said.
"We know that James 'Big Mac' Macintosh is responsible, and now he can't hurt anybody else while he's in custody," Kathy said. Sam sighed.
"Yeah, you're right," he said. "Kathy, I really appreciate you helping me with all of this."
"It's my job, Sam," she replied.
"I mean it, though. You ladies are literally life-savers." Kathy gave him a soft smile.
"No problem, Sam," she said. "Ginger went over to the hospital to give your mom and the Dosils some stuff, she should be getting an update now. You can thank her when she gets back."
"I will, hopefully before we have to go to the Press Conference," Sam said. "As soon as that's over, I want to go to the hospital."
"Will there be time? Toby said it's going to be really busy," Kathy said.
"Well, that depends on what the President says about-"
"Sam." Josh opened the door to Sam's office. His face was drawn with defeat. "It's Answer B." Sam turned back to Kathy.
"Looks I might have time after all," he said. "I've gotta go, I'll see Ginger later." Kathy nodded, looking worried. Sam followed Josh out.