PART FOUR

Hospital 3.00 AM

Toby was staring at the door of the waiting room, as if sheer will would actually make it open on a surgeon who would tell them that they'd been wrong, that it was just a scratch, that Sam could go home now.

"I'm feeling a certain big brotherly connection right now."

He smiled, thinking back on that day. He had carefully avoided Sam's glance when he had said that, but he had felt him turn around and stare at him, and the President's half smile had confirmed his impression that his deputy wasn't expecting * that *

Being yelled at by Toby and fired by the president, sure, but support . he'd been surprised, all right.

For someone that frighteningly smart, his deputy had a tendency to be oblivious to other's feelings. Or rather, to the feelings he provoked in others.

The fact that he was the youngest had awoken the protective instincts in each of them. He closed his eyes, not daring to imagine life in the communication's bullpen without his deputy. He refused to even consider the idea of going on without Sam. He needed his passion, his idealism, they all did.

"Put him on a bus."

"I'm talking about the next twenty years."

He started when someone sat next to him. It was CJ again, and she was watching him with a kind smile. "I was thinking about the time he got creamed by Ainsley," she offered.

"I was thinking about the day he said, and about a candidate for the supreme court, no less, "Put him on a bus". He was inspired that day. And he kept us from doing a huge mistake, too."

CJ stayed silent for a moment, before saying, "He saved my life"

He watched her, surprised. She went on, not looking at him. "In Rosslyn, when the shooting began, we were together. I don't even recall what we were talking about. Then there were gunshots, and I just stood there, wondering what was happening. He tackled me, dragged me down with him. Two seconds before the window of the car we were standing in front of exploded. If I'd still been up ." She stopped. Toby didn't find anything to say but she wasn't done.

"He didn't tell me anything. When he saw I didn't know who had saved me, he didn't say. And when I understood, he said it wasn't important, and I said, "No, it's not. I don't owe you anything." Why did I say that Toby?"

He smiled gently. "Because that's what he wanted to hear. You know how he is. He knows you're grateful, but I'm sure he didn't want your relationship to change."

She reflected on that for a while, then nodded slowly. "Still," she muttered.

"I know," Toby said.

After a few minutes of silence, she got up. "I'm gonna go see how Josh is doing. He left a while ago, now."

He nodded. "I'll be there soon. I'm just ."

"Gonna wait here until someone comes?"

He marveled once again that she knew him so well. "Something like that," he said, to avoid saying what he really thought, that he was scared that if he left the room again, Sam wouldn't make it, that of he stopped praying, even for a second, it would be over.

After CJ was gone, he thought back on what she'd said. It explained quite few things. It shouldn't have surprised him, really. Sam had always had a tendency to try to save everyone. Laurie. Ainsley. Donna's friend. Toby.

"Toby, if it was serious, they'd have called the President."

* * * * *

One hour later, Toby was still reminiscing when CJ and Josh came back to the room, followed by Leo and the President.

He got up, his legs stiff after all the time he'd spent sitting on the uncomfortable chair.

The surgeon entered after the president, and they all faced him. Toby was trying to read his face, trying to find a clue.

Good news? Bad news?

"He survived the surgery," the man said, and everyone but Toby let go of a breath.

"But?" he asked, sensing there was more.

"There was too much damage, we had to remove his right kidney," the doctor admitted. "We couldn't have controlled the bleeding otherwise."

Josh closed his eyes, and Leo and Toby looked at each other. The President sighed deeply, before asking, "He can live like that, right?"

"Yes. It's going to take restrictions, of course, but that isn't fatal in itself."

Toby didn't comment. He could live with that. Sam was going to take it hard, no reason he shouldn't, but they all could live with that.

"I want to see him," Toby said.

"He'll wake up soon," the surgeon nodded. "I'll have someone show you his room. I'm sorry, but I can only allow one person tonight, and not for long. He'll be tired, he needs to rest."

Everyone nodded resignedly. And no one dared to contest Toby's right to go in first.

Good, he wouldn't have to kill anyone, then.

* * * * *

Toby approached the bed slowly, taking in the paleness of his deputy, and the dark smudges under his eyes. There were tubes and wires everywhere, it seemed, and the cardiac monitor was beeping regularly. He should have found it irritating, but it was reassuring. It was a sign that Sam was still with them.

The nurse who had followed him into the room checked all the instruments, and smiled to him. "You can sit for a while and talk to him. He was conscious, a few minutes ago, he may enjoy seeing a friend."

Toby nodded his thanks and waited until she'd left him alone to sit down. He hesitated a minute before taking Sam's hand, grimacing at its coldness.

"Hey Sam," he said.

Sam opened his eyes slowly, blinking at the ceiling, obviously trying to remember where he was.

"Sam?" he repeated softly.

Sam turned his head slowly and focussed on his boss.

"'by?" he croaked, and grimaced.

Toby suddenly remembered Josh complaining that his throat had felt like parchment after his own surgery and he said "Yeah. Want some ice?"

Sam nodded weakly, closing his eyes, and accepted the offered cube gratefully.

"Better?"

"Little. What happened?"

"You . What do you remember?"

He frowned a little. "Pizza," he blurted out after a while. "I was looking for a pizza. I was hungry."

"Yeah."

"There was ." he closed his eyes, paling slightly, and Toby squeezed his hands.

"It's okay kid, it's over. You're safe now."

Sam nodded, still looking frightened, then he went on "It was cold. I had never been so cold in my life, Toby. Lizzie was there."

Lizzie? Who was Lizzie, Toby wondered. Then he remembered. The students.

"Yeah, she and some friends of hers took care of you a little," he explained.

"That was nice," Sam said, and Toby agreed wholeheartedly, thinking that they had at least kept his deputy from bleeding to death, or dying from the shock. And that he hadn't been alone all the time he was waiting for the ambulance.

"How do you feel?" he asked, trying to keep him away from the memories.

"Less cold. I don't like cold," Sam muttered, and Toby stroked his hair.

"I know. I know. We're here now, everyone's outside, okay?"

Suddenly, he saw his deputy try to shift on the bed, and before he could stop him, Sam put his hand on his side, his face contorting in pain.

"Sam?" Toby asked.

"It hurts, Toby," Sam said breathlessly, and Toby sighed. The nurse had said that he wasn't due for another dose of morphine for half an hour.

"I know, kid," he said. Feeling helpless, he stroked Sam's hair, and put a hand on his forehead, trying to make the creases he saw there disappear.

Sam tried to move again, and Toby saw his eyes roll back in his head. The hand that was squeezing his relaxed, and Toby sat back on his chair, hating to have to watch that and not being able to take it away.

"I know," he said again, even though his deputy was past hearing him. He stroked the hand he was still holding with his thumb, and waited for Sam to wake up again, or for someone to kick him out, whichever would come first.