Disclaimer: I have a confession…wait for it...I don't own the west wing. I know it was a shock when I found out too

Author's note: Just want to apologize for the long wait between chapter 22 and 23, I had writers block and school work, but I'm on December break now and ready to rock. I think the writers block is gone and I'm ready to go. Also wanted to give a shout out to Dimples73, a loyal reader through and through, you rock and I love you're story Prank All Wrong, a Drake and Josh fanfic for those of you who want to check it out

Chapter 24

After Abbey left Sam remained in his room speechless, he didn't know how to react to Abbey's speech. She was right, he knew she was, but that didn't make accepting his new life any easier.

As the days went on, and weeks passed, the media continued to hound him relentlessly, but they did let up somewhat. Apparently, Prince Harry's arrival in the United States was a big deal. Thank god, Sam would have kissed the man if he could. As it turned out, Prince Harry was a media magnet, what with his late night escapades and the multitude of women he seemed to grace with his company.

Sam was actually looking forward to meeting the Prince, he was supposed to be coming for dinner that evening. Unfortunately, his sisters also seemed to be looking forward to the event. He was glad Elizabeth and Ellie had finally let a couple of weeks ago, but Zoey and Katie were driving him crazy, going on and on about how hot he was; sisters, four damn sisters and not a single brother to back him up.

His dad had been no help. While of the past few month, Sam had become closer and closer to both his mom and dad, in the past few days something strange had been going on. His dad seemed to be more tired than usual and had even taken to bed a few times, which was just not like Jed. It was starting to worry him, but it was hard to snoop around and try to get to the bottom of a mystery when he had six secret service agents trailing him 24/7.

Sam was yanked out of his thoughts by Mrs. Landingham, "Sam," she said simply, giving Sam a big smile, "have a cookie." As always Sam took one, knowing that if his mom found out she'd probably yell at him for ruining his appetite. It seemed that more and more, Abbey was trying to make up for all of the mothering time she missed when Sam was…gone...and though at first he had found it touching, he had to admit it had started to wear on him. He had come to his father's office once again to try and persuade him into letting Sam move out.

This time he was planning on using his older sisters departure's in his argument, that and the fact that he would not stop nagging until he could once again be allowed to live somewhere were the population would be less than a hundred.

"You can go right in Sam, he's just doing some paperwork," Sam smiled and walked into the oval office, more than a little happy that it was one of the few places he was free of his detail.

His smile quickly disappeared when he found his dad. "Dad," Jed was a few feet away clutching onto his desk, his face ghostly pale, eyes wide, and face contorted in pain. Before Sam could reach him, the president toppled to the ground. "Oh god, help," he yelled.

In the White House, and especially in the oval office, you should be weary of what you cry out. Before Sam could so much as take another breath, agents came swarming into the oval office surrounding him and his dad. One of the agent's went so far as to start patting Sam done for injuries.

Sam tried to get through the swarm of agents to his dad, but it was no use, for the next ten minutes he was forced to watch from the sidelines as a multitude of people worked on the president. They were all talking at once and Sam couldn't understand a word of it. He breathed a sigh of relief when the people began to disperse and his dad's doctor arrived. Yet he still found himself hopefully confused. The doctor looked his dad over and the President eventually got back on his feet waving away the concerned staffers. "Just fell," his dad explained to everyone. "You can all go back to work…" when no one moved, he put on that authoritative look, that one that said, 'don't f with me,' and the staffers dispersed.

Soon the only people left in the room were Sam, the doctor, and Ron. During the commotion Sam had remained mostly silent, but now he seemed to find his voice, "dad, what's going on?" he asked, unable to stop his voice from cracking and letting his confusion and worry show through.

"It noth—"

"Stop!" Sam barked, "Don't…don't lie to me. I—I know something's going on," he swiped his hand over his face in frustration. "I'm not blind…I've been watching you…you and mom have been acting weird the past couple of days, you were in bed yesterday, and now—what's going on?" he asked again.

"Sam—" the president eyed his doctor, who was now placing a pressure cuff around his forearm, and Ron, who was standing stock still unmoving with a perfectly placed mask on his face. "I'm sick Sam…"

"What?" Sam gasped, he felt knees tremble and his heart race, "sick…" his throat was tight and he forced himself to ask, "sick with what?"

His dad sighed, "I have something called relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis—" The doctor yanked off the pressure cuff.

"You have MS," Sam gasped, shocked. "Are…are you going to…to die?" he forced the last word out, as he tried to hold back the tears pricking his eyes.

The President rushed towards his only son and wrapped him a tight embrace, than cupping Sam's face in his hands, "no son," he assured, "it's benign. I might die eventually, but not anytime soon if I have any say in it." He tried for a smile, and Sam attempted to smile back.

"Why…why did you tell us?" he asked.

Jed sighed and led Sam over to the coach, sitting down he looked his son in the eyes. "I didn't tell the public for reasons you can imagine, I wanted to be president and the chances of that happening with the public knowing about my MS, were low to say the least. I didn't tell the staff mainly to keep the secret, and I didn't tell you or the girls because…because I didn't want you to worry."

Sam looked down at his hands, "I want to worry, I'm your son it's my job." He stated. "Dad…the girls deserve to know, Zoey knows something's going on. We've been worried anyway, and we've been thinking up much worse explanations."

His father huffed, "I'm sorry Sammy, but I want to tell them in my own time. I promise I will tell them, but…but with everything that's been going on…I don't think our family can take anymore. Promise me Sam, promise me you'll let me tell them in my own time."

Sam sighed, indecision pulling at him, finally he looked back up at his dad, "I promise."

The president pulled him into a tight hug. "Now, why exactly were you coming to see me Sam?" Sam smiled, knowing his dad was trying to change the subject.

"Well…" he found himself trying to get into a good mind set for the debate he knew would come, "I was thinking, it's been a couple months and… and I was wondering if maybe we could talk about me moving out."

"Sam—" the president began, once more in that 'don't f with me' tone.

"Please, Beth and Ellie don't have to stay and Zoey's allowed to go to college this fall, and…and I'm twenty-seven years old and it's just sad for a twenty-seven year old man to still be living with his mother." Well that had been one lousy speech.

The President sighed; looking liked he'd rather talk about his MS again. "Ron?" The President asked and Sam turned around, surprised to find that Ron was, in fact, still in the room.

"Yes sir?" he asked.

"What is you're opinion?" Jed asked and Sam sighed audibly, Ron was always one to air on the side of caution…with everything!

"Honestly sir, I believe that Sam's right," Sam's jaw dropped as he stared wide-eyed at Ron, what had he just said. "From a security point of view, I'd be happy if none of you left the White House. I'm sure Abbey would be happy if Sam never left the White House, as well, " Sam smiled, nodding in agreement, "but Sam has to start living his life again, and the threat levels have gone down considerably over the past week. The secret service could relocate him to a location deemed secure, it may not be as safe as the White House, but I think it's time Sam be allowed his own home."

Jed look unsure, he looked over at Sam, he clearly wouldn't mind if Sam never left the White House, "fine, I'll talk to Abbey."

Sam groaned, "Dad, come on! We've been talking about this for two months, two very long months. I want to move out, I'm twenty-seven, I'm a grown man, and it's my decision. Can't we just tell her I'm moving out?"

The President looked pained at the idea of telling his wife to do anything, taking a deep breath as if readying himself he nodded slowly, and Sam broke out into a huge smile.