The next morning, Leo opened his eyes to the winter sun peeking through the bedroom windows. He'd spent more than three weeks, waking up and being disoriented. He'd grown used to it. In some ways, it reminded him of the days when he was drinking and staying away from Jenny and Mallory. Where was he? Why was he there? He'd been a single minded drunk, at least. He'd never wondered who he was waking up with. He'd always thankfully been alone.

As Leo blinked the sleep out of his eyes, he remembered a bit about the day before. Abbey was worn out with grief - the stress lines on her forehead. Despite all of that, she'd gone out of her way to try to make him more comfortable. The shame rose in his chest, as he chastised himself for being a care to her.

Leo had laid down late yesterday afternoon in his t-shirt and corduroy chinos, while Mallory hunted for his pajamas. Obviously, he must have fallen asleep, and his daughter didn't see fit to wake him up just to change. His t-shirt clung to him, laden with sweat, and Leo felt chilled from the drafts in the old farmhouse. He'd apparently sweat through it sometime in the night - a regular occurrence lately.

A knock on the door distracted Leo from that thought, as Abbey called his name.

"Just checking on you, this morning," she said, as entered the room and sat down on the side of his bed, reaching for his hand.

Leo went to sit up in the bed. He didn't like Abbey seeing him this way. She had enough on her mind. He was here to help her. Even if he couldn't wrap his head around it all, he should be up and trying to get a handle on the cacophony of communications, decision points and requests hitting Abbey's plate. It wasn't fair for anyone to expect anything of this woman, who was now without her husband. But, unfortunately, given Abbey Bartlet's role as former First Lady - the 'former' only being a few weeks old - it was inevitable. Word had it, Oprah wanted an hour long interview when Abbey felt ready. Leo didn't have anything against Oprah - he'd heard she was actually a solid person, and Abbey liked her. If, at some point, Abbey wanted to talk publicly, she'd make those decisions. But, he could keep the slime balls from her door in the meantime, if he could just get on his feet.

Abbey put her hand on his chest to forestall Leo's quick movement, obviously taking note of his soaked t-shirt. Leo braced himself for a line of questioning he didn't want to address. It could be a sign of many things, but the most likely culprit was something he didn't want to talk about - especially with Abbey - not now.

Mercifully, she didn't say anything, but pulled out her blood pressure cuff and took his pressure.

"Well, that's better," Abbey smiled at him. Her smile had changed, though. He couldn't put his finger on it - likely, a result of the meds and the leftover fogginess in his brain. But, the spark seemed to be gone in her eyes. Leo's heart sank, thinking about how Jed had put it there on a regular basis.

She gently reached for his wrist and took his pulse.

After a minute, she settled back and stared at him.

"You look better than you might." Abbey then asked, "How's the pain? No kidding now, Leo."

He'd obviously slept through the night. But, as he lay there, he could feel the building in his forehead. His side was well on its way to healing, and it hadn't caused him too much discomfort. At some point, Abbey - or someone up here - would need to take his stitches out.

"It's starting," Leo answered honestly, momentarily looking away from her.

Miraculously, a few pills and a bottle of water appeared.

Leo stared at her with a hooded expression. He didn't want to have to trust anyone with this. Even in the midst of her tremendous grief, Abbey knew the battle he'd fought. She wouldn't let him down. And, he needed to be on his feet to help her.

He took the pills and a swig of water and prayed he was making the right choice.

"What do you think?" Abbey tugged at the hem of his soaked t-shirt. "Let those meds work and then try a shower this morning?"

Leo nodded curtly.

"Do you want your shaving kit?" Abbey asked, palming his whiskered cheek.

Leo waved off the comment. He couldn't explain it, but he just didn't have the energy for things reminiscent of his power broker role. And worse, Leo didn't trust his hands with a straight raiser right now.

"I can do it, if you need help…" she pressed.

Obviously, she thought he still cared about those things.

Taking a deep breath and her hands in his, Leo had enough. He needed to shift her expectations about what he was here for. Yes, he'd had a bad night. He might have a few more, but ultimately, he was here to help Abbey.

"It's fine," Leo assured her. "I'm going to take a shower. We're going to get Mallory on a flight back to DC. And, sometime, maybe tomorrow, or next week, or next month, you and I are going to start to make sense of what's next."

Abbey's eyes dropped, and she nodded. Leo saw her tears beginning to gather.

"Okay," Leo whispered, as he squeezed her hands.

Just saying the words helped. For her sake, he needed to believe them too.

They sat quietly for about ten minutes. Abbey was obviously lost in thought, and Leo wanted to make sure the meds took effect before he ventured beyond the bed. Feeling the pain subside, Leo then sat up and swung his feet to the floor. Spying his duffle bag, he mentally planned his steps to find some clean clothes and to the shower.

He stood up - that went well.

A few steps later, Leo acknowledged he was so far successful. Gaining confidence, he gathered a few things and moved toward the en-suite bathroom.

"You'll be okay?" Abbey questioned.

Leo chuckled, "Yes, I'll be okay. I've been taking showers on my own for a really long time now - like since I was five."

She wiped the tears from her eyes, and Leo caught the hint of a sarcastic smile on Abbey's face.

"You know, because we've got some Secret Service guys, who might like to add to their resumes?"

Just before shutting the bathroom door, Leo replied "Yeah, well, they'd need a hell of a lot more hazard pay…"

He was moving slower, and inside, Leo had to acknowledge he'd never be the same. The war, his divorce, his father's suicide - all of those tragedies had rearranged him. But, there was some familiarity in parrying with Abbey, despite a fundamentally surreal landscape.

Stripping his soaked t-shirt off, Leo felt a small bit of strength return.