PART NINE

Sam's room

When he entered the room, Toby went straight to Sam's bedside. "Hey, what's up?" he asked. The nurse who had called him hadn't wanted to give him details, explaining that Sam wanted to talk to him himself, but he'd had to put on sterile clothes to come into the room where they'd moved Sam, and it wasn't a good sign, he knew that much.

Sam smiled sadly. "I'm rejecting the transplant."

Toby sat down abruptly, and grabbed his deputy's hand. It was too warm, and Sam was sweating, his hair plastered to his forehead.

"They've increased the immunosuppressive dosage, and they're giving me cortisone, I think. That's why you had to put ." He gestured to the plastic hat Toby was wearing. "I'm sorry, but I wanted to see you, and - "

"I'd have kicked your ass if you hadn't called me," he said. "I still might if you don't stop apologizing at once."

Sam opened his mouth to apologize, realized what he was about to say, and closed it again, smiling softly.

"Can you . can you stay for a while? I asked the nurses, they say it's okay if someone is with me, and I get . nervous here, alone."

"Yes, of course, I'll stay." He squeezed Sam's hand. "Hold on, okay."

He smiled. "I'm scared. I don't want to ."

Lose the kidney, go back to dialysis, have to wait again. But he didn't want to say that out loud, and Toby nodded.

"It's gonna be okay. You've come this far, haven't you?"

"Yeah," Sam sighed. "Whatever. Can we . can we not talk about it?"

"Sure. What do you want to talk about?"

Sam smiled. "Tell me about the speech he has to give tonight," he said.

Toby began to talk about politics, then about stubborn republicans, then about Ginger's new shoes, on which she'd fallen twice, and he went on talking about the latest adventures of the Bartlet's administration until Sam had fallen asleep.

* * * * *

When Sam woke up again, Toby was still there, typing on his laptop. He moved his hand slightly to move away the bangs that had fallen on his forehead, but it was too tiresome to do, and he sighed.

Toby caught the movement, and put his laptop on the side, and pushed the offensive bangs away.

"Better?" he asked.

Sam nodded and asked drowsily, "How long ."

"A few hours."

When Toby didn't tell him that the treatment was working, he closed his eyes. His boss would have told him immediately, if he had been doing better. "Ironic," he muttered.

"What's that?"

"I said, it's ironic."

Toby raised an eyebrow and he explained, "That my body is trying to kill the kidney that's supposed to save my life," he explained.

"They're still giving you ."

"Yeah. Not working so far, is it?" he asked, and Toby bit his lip. "What were you working on?" Sam asked, because his eyes were beginning to burn, and he was feeling a lump in his throat, and Toby had seen him cry enough already.

He fell asleep before Toby was done explaining what Bruno was up to this time.

* * * * *

CJ was with him the next time he regained consciousness, and the drowsiness he felt worried him. It seemed worse each time he woke up. He shouldn't have felt so . disconnected.

"Hey, Ceej," he smiled.

"How do you feel?" she asked immediately, and he pondered that.

"Never better," he finally said, and she frowned.

"You just have to do everything the hard way, don't you, Spanky?" she said.

He shrugged slightly.

"We sent Toby home, he was exhausted. He'll come back soon, or he'll kill a few people trying."

Sam nodded, and they both stayed silent a few minutes. Then he looked at her, and asked her how she was doing.

"Why?" she asked. "I should be the one asking you that."

"You did," he pointed out. "And I know that it's not easy for you."

"Sam, it's hard for each and every one of us. What do you think, that it's a walk in the park for Toby? And Josh? And Leo and the President, for God's sake!" she exclaimed.

"I know, I just . I don't know what I'm trying to say, I guess I'm a little more stoned than I thought I was," he said, smiling weakly.

He wasn't going to tell her that it had to be hard for her, because she'd lost someone to a bullet already, because he was afraid of re opening the wound. And he wasn't going to tell her that he wanted to take care of her again, because he had a headache already, and she would yell if she knew that.

She smiled. "I know, Spanky," she said, and she leaned and kissed his forehead.

He was falling asleep quickly, but he had the time to whisper "Oh God, don't tell me I said that out loud" and to hear a chuckle before he went under.

* * * * *

When Sam woke up, the sun was shining through the window. He sleepily marveled at the light, and stared at the wall in front of him for a while, enjoying the pattern that the blinds were throwing on the wall.

He tried to remember who had been with him last night, but the effort that asked of him almost made him go back to sleep.

He had trouble stringing together two coherent thoughts now.

A movement on his left made him turn his head. Someone leant over him. "Hey, kid."

"Toby," he smiled.

"How are you feeling?"

"How do I look?" he asked, and his boss almost smiled.

"Yeah. I know. Look, hold on a little longer okay," he said. "It's gonna be fine".

He nodded sadly. Sure, it was.

Each time he closed his eyes, he was scared he wouldn't have the strength to open them again, but it was gonna be fine.

Sure.

"Your parents called," Toby added, to make small talk.

But his parents hated each other now. Or maybe they always had. Had they always hated each other?

"I don't know kid," Toby said, and Sam realized, annoyed, that he had begun to think out loud again.

He didn't like that. Too much of a loss of control for his taste. He wanted to feel in control.

"I know," Toby said again as he was falling asleep again. "I know."

* * * * *

When Sam woke up again, it was dark in the room. How long had he been out this time?

"Hey Sam," a voice said. Familiar, and comforting. He had heard it often in the past few days. Or maybe weeks, he had no idea how long he'd been there anyway.

"Sam?" another voice said.

He opened his eyes reluctantly.

"Josh?" he said, recognizing his friend. He had had something to tell Josh, but he couldn't remember what that was. Anyway, Josh had been nice to him since he was there. It couldn't be easy, after what had happened to him, but he remembered talking to him once or twice.

"Yeah," Josh said, "Toby's here too."

Sam waved his hand, too tired to speak.

"Hold on a little while longer, okay?" Josh said. "The treatment is beginning to work, they say you should feel better soon."

"They do? That's cool," he said, not sure if he should believe that.

Were they just trying to comfort him?

And why did CJ look so strange, like she wanted to cry?

"Cool, yes, you could say that," Toby's voice said. "Could you please stop scaring us, now?"

He tried to smile, but he was way too tired to make it, so he just waved his hand a little again. He felt a hand on his forehead, and CJ's voice, near his ear. "It won't be long now."

When had CJ come so close to him?

Whatever, he was way too tired to care.

* * * * *

Toby was scribbling notes on his pad. He knew he was going to have to go back to the White House eventually, but for now, he was waiting for Sam to wake up. The doctor had promised he would show signs of lucidity soon, and that had been a relief to everyone. The last days had been awful, with Sam less coherent each time he surfaced enough to share a few words with the rest of them. They hated to see him like that.

But he was better. He just needed time to recuperate. And then more time to recuperate. And some more time after that to deal with the changes in his life, to adjust back in the West Wing, to accept what had happened to him.

"Hey," Sam said, and Toby started.

Sam was looking at him questioningly and he smiled. "How do you feel?" he asked, and Sam frowned.

"Better, I guess," he said, and Toby nodded.

"You look better too," he said. "You were really out of it last time we talked."

Sam frowned and said "Everyone was there. I remember CJ, and Josh, and you, there."

Toby nodded. "And then you passed out cold, and we spent the next twenty four hours waiting for you to show us the courtesy of noticing our presence."

"Oh?"

"Oh, that's all you have to say?" Toby asked indignantly. "Oh?"

Sam smiled tiredly. "Sorry, I'll check my Webster later, but right now ."

Toby chuckled. "Never mind, I guess I'd just gotten too used to all your complicated words," he said. "It's weird to see you use a less than 5 syllables word."

"Not so rare these days," Sam said.

"No, and I don't know what you think you're doing, but you're not paid to give monosyllabic answers to each and every question we ask you."

"Yes, oh great sensei," Sam replied, closing his eyes. He opened them again to ask, "What about .?"

"It's okay. You almost lost the kidney but the treatment finally worked. You were lucky, you know."

And at least, they didn't have to tell Sam that he had to be dialyzed again. He didn't know how his deputy would have handled that, but his guess was, "Not well."

The doctor who had talked to them earlier that day had promised them that Sam would get better soon, now that his kidney was working correctly again.

About damn time, Toby thought. "You should sleep," he told his deputy.

Sam nodded, and closed his eyes again.