PART FOUR

One week later

Sam's place

"Do you think I'm completely stupid?" Sam asked.

CJ looked at him, surprised.

Sam wasn't completely oblivious, contrary to what his colleagues seemed to think.

Besides, there was no need to be particularly astute to notice that the pretext his friends had found to gather in his apartment was. contrived, to say the least.

A 'no special occasion' party?

He smiled a little. He had gone see his therapist earlier in the day, coming back exhausted - the nightmares were becoming more frequent as the date of the anniversary approached. He hoped they would decrease once it was over, but for now, he just wanted to sleep a few hours straight.

He was distracted enough that he hadn't noticed anything strange - like the cars of his coworkers parked in the street. When he had opened the door to his place, a chorus of "Surprise" had greeted him and he had jumped backward, his heart missing a few beats, then beginning to pump faster, and faster.

"You okay Spanky?" CJ had asked, laughing.

He had put a hand to his heart, trying to catch his breath. "Are you guys trying to give me a heart attack?"

Josh had approached him, sheepish. "Sorry, we just wanted to surprise you."

"Well, it worked!" It was a testament of how tired he was that it took him a few minutes to recover from the shock.

Josh had looked concerned. "You okay?"

"Yeah, you just, well, surprised me."

Donna had come to them, smiling, and had hugged him. "That was the point," she had said brightly. "You're okay, right?"

"Yes, but what exactly are we celebrating?"

She had smiled. "Nothing. That's the point."

He had raised an eyebrow, his suspicions forming. There wasn't a big crowd. The senior staff, the assistants, and a few lawyers from the Counsel's Office. No one who would make Sam uncomfortable. No one who would look at him pityingly. His friends were worried, Sam concluded. And they had decided to reaffirm that they were here. However, the pretext they had found to do so was, well.suspicious. "Nothing?" he repeated. "You're gonna have to walk me through that one."

"See," Donna had explained, "We have three sad anniversaries in May and June, and nothing to celebrate. No birthday, no wedding, nothing."

"And so, you decided to celebrate the nothingness." he gestured for her to continue.

". To cheer us up," she had finished brightly. "And, well, mostly to cheer * you * up, cause you've been. blue."

"I've been blue?" Sam had asked, turning to CJ.

"You have," she had said, nodding seriously.

"Oh."

"So, anyway, let's party," Donna had said, dragging the group to the center of the room.

"That's going to take some getting used to," Sam had said, to no one in particular.

"You're telling me," Toby had answered, doing his best to look unhappy. Sam would have bet that he had something to do with this, though.

No, he wasn't as unobservant as people seemed to think.

He had noticed how everyone had tried to cheer him up, during the first hour of the party.

Then, how everyone tried to force-feed him during the second hour.

Then, how everyone had suddenly remembered that they had things to do, places to go to, people to talk to, phone calls to make and so on.

Then, how CJ had hung back, saying that there were dishes to do and that since they had invited themselves, Sam shouldn't be the one cleaning up. Josh had winked at her on his way out, so obviously that Sam had half expected his friend to make a thumbs up gesture.

Toby had cringed and dragged Josh out. Sam was sure that his boss had smacked him on the head as soon as the door had closed behind them. He could almost hear his friend's indignant "Hey!"

Four hours after he had come back from his appointment, he and CJ were alone in the kitchen, where she had ordered him to sit and watch as she washed the few dishes that needed to be done.

Hence his question.

"CJ?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think I'm completely stupid?"

She turned to look at him, and he stared back at her, his face carefully neutral.

"No," she said.

"Good. What do you want to ask?"

Not that he didn't have a pretty good idea of what was on her mind, but he might as well give her an opening. He was in a generous mood, today.

She put down the glass she was rinsing and motioned for him to go back to the living room with her.

Once they were settled on the couch, she said, "Toby tried to ask you how you were a few times."

"Yes, and he was very subtle, and even devious, in his questions," Sam answered, nodding thoughtfully.

"Then, Josh tried too."

"And he was. less subtle."

"No kidding," she laughed.

"So now, they've asked you to third degree me?"

"Pretty much."

"It was your turn," he added, smiling teasingly.

"Yes," she answered, smiling too.

"I'm - "

"Spanky, so help me God, if you say that you're fine."

He stopped and amended, "I will be."

"When?"

"When that fucking anniversary is behind me," he said sweetly, smiling at her.

She hadn't expected that straightforward an answer, he could tell. "Okay."

"Look, CJ, I'm seeing my therapist, I'm sleeping a few hours a night, it'll be over eventually."

"And the reason you don't want us involved is." she asked.

He shrugged, remembering his conversation with his therapist.

CJ wasn't going to take a shrug for an answer, though.

"Sam?"

He grimaced. "Shit, do you have to * sound * like my therapist?"

"Sorry."

He shook his head. "Never mind. Look, I know you're trying to help, but really, I will be fine."

He began to get up to go back to the kitchen and CJ said, "I'm sorry we weren't there."

He stopped cold.

How had she guessed?

* Had * she guessed?

"What?" he answered carefully.

"I'm sorry we weren't with you. Do you have any idea how bad we all feel about that?"

"You do?" he asked, feeling stupidly relieved.

"Josh claims that at least, you were with him at Rosslyn."

"I didn't find him," Sam pointed out.

"You were with him in the ambulance, in the ER, and when he woke up, the second time."

"But - "

"Toby claims he should have refused to let you take a day off."

"Of all the ridiculous things," Sam groaned.

"And I." She bit her lip. "I should have been there, at the hospital."

"You were," he said.

"Not as much as. Not as much as you would have been for me."

He grimaced. There it was, the nice guy thing again.

"You don't know that," he snapped.

He was feeling incredibly tired all of a sudden.

"Yes I do."

"No, you really don't," he persisted.

"Sam - "

"What do you want from me?" he snapped. "Do you want to hear that I'm fine? I am. Do you want to hear that I sleep? I do. Do you want to hear that I'm not going to have another breakdown? I pray not."

"We don't want you to reassure us," CJ said, "We want you to * be * okay."

"How many times will I have to tell you guys that I am?"

"Until we're convinced," CJ said, firmly. "Until we don't feel like you tell us what we want to hear. Until you don't look so, I don't know."

She trailed off and he said, "I can't really help how I feel."

"I'm not saying you can. I'm saying, you don't have to keep that to yourself. I'm saying, when we ask you how you feel, you can tell us. Your therapist isn't the only trustworthy person on the face of the Earth, you know."

He nodded, and sat back on the couch. She put a hand on his shoulder. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know. Mad, scared,. wishing it hadn't happen."

"Why don't you talk to us?"

"Because, I'm not sure I want you guys to see me that way. I mean, I was pathetic enough in the hospital, why should I - " He stopped and she frowned. Oops, he thought. He must have been more tired than he had realized, to let that slip.

"Sam, you weren't pathetic," CJ said calmly. "You were sick. And trying very hard to put up a good face."

And failing miserably, he thought. He wasn't going to tell her that, though.

"Sam, do you really think."

"Why not?" he asked nervously. "Sometimes, I feel like I'm just another crime statistic, you know. Like they entered my name in a data bank, category, car jacking and attempted murder, or whatever."

"It's not that way."

"I know that," he snapped. "I'm not completely stupid. I'm just not reasoning too logically sometimes, and since my therapist assures me that it'll get better with time, you know."

She didn't answer, she was looking at him intensely, and he found himself adding, "It's the powerlessness I hate. It's knowing that he'll never be caught, it's knowing that I didn't do anything, it's knowing that I just shook like a leaf all the time, and that I didn't even dare to turn around and look at him."

There it was, in the open.

He half expected her to laugh, or to look disappointed. It wasn't so. She was looking at him, there was no trace of judgement in her eyes, no pity either, so he went on, because sooner or later, they would find out. "It's knowing that I'm, you know."

She looked in askance, looking very much like she didn't know.

"A victim," he spat.

"You're not."

"Yes I am."

"You survived, Sam. You had to fight, you had to fight hard, and you made it."

He sighed and leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes. "Sometimes I wonder about that."

"I know. And that's bullshit, what you said. You're not a victim."

"What am I?"

"The man who saved my life in Rosslyn."

His eyes shot open. "I thought we weren't talking about that," he said.

In fact, he didn't want to talk about that. He had only done what anyone would have done under the same circumstances.

"We should talk about it," CJ said firmly. "I'd be dead if it hadn't been for you, you pushed me down to safety when I didn't even know what was happening, you held it together when your best friend was in surgery, you. gave me back my necklace."

"It has nothing to do with - "

"It has to do with who you are. You do what you have to do and you go on."

She was so intent on convincing him.

He so desperately needed to be convinced.

"I don't know."

"I do. Sam, I should have told you before. I would have if I had known what was going on in that twisted, convoluted, complicated brain of yours."

He felt his eyes begin to burn and he looked away.

'Shit, not now,' he thought.

CJ didn't seem to mind. She hugged him, and he whispered, "I was terrified, and. CJ, I'm not. "

"Being terrified doesn't make you weak," she said.

"Okay."

His quick acceptance didn't seem to impress her.

"I mean it," she said

He swallowed. "I know."

It didn't mean he had to actually believe it.

She let go of him. "You're someone great. I don't know what exactly convinced you otherwise, but we're going to have a couple of conversations about that, and I'll make you see the light."

He chuckled a little, relieved that she was trying to ease the tension a little.

"You'll love yourself, Spanky," she added.

"Josh loves himself," he offered.

She paused at that. "Okay, you won't love yourself too much."

"Yeah," he chuckled, looking at his shoes.

"Just enough to realize that you're strong, that you deserve what's best, and that thankfully, you already have that - friends, job."

"Health," he added.

She smacked his head. "Don't push your luck."

"Ouch," he protested.

"Let's go do the dishes."

"I have a question about that," Sam said.

"About the dishes."

"Yes."

She shook her head, amused. "Okay, ask your dishes question."

"Not that I don't appreciate your staying to help me, but it was a party that you guys threw, so how come I'm left with * any * dishes?"

She frowned. "Okay, next time we throw a cheer up party - because, believe me, it's soon going to be a tradition - we'll invite everyone in the West Wing instead of fifteen people and you'll see what a lot of dishes are."

"Payback is a bitch," Sam mused.

"Shut up," she said.

He smiled, and followed her to the kitchen.

"How did you guess that I was going to grill you?" she asked, handing him the wet dishes so he could dry them off.

"A 'nothing special party'?"

"Yes, but we were in a hurry."

"It was Josh's idea, wasn't it?" he asked.

"Yes," she admitted.

"You allowed Josh to make that kind of decision."

"He told us at the last minute. We couldn't find a better reason."

He nodded. "Okay then."

"We tried," she said defensively.

"I'm sure you did."

"Know what? Next time, you'll pick a theme."

He looked at her. "So, not only do I have to do the dishes, but I have to plan the party myself?"

"Shut up," she said.

He laughed a little. "What did Toby say when he learned about. the theme."

"That Josh was an idiot, that we were all idiots, that it was a wonder we had elected a President twice, and that since you were an idiot too, you wouldn't suspect anything."

He straightened up. "So, Toby called me an idiot."

"Yes."

"That's."

"Not unusual?" she guessed.

"Well, no it's not, but still."

"I know," she said. "Believe me, I know."

"I'll have to get back at him."

"We all will," CJ said. "He called us all idiots."

"Right."

They began to plan their revenge, and when she left, an hour later, Sam realized that for a few minutes, he had forgotten everything about his sleepless nights.

* * * * *

One hour later, he was lying in bed, thinking about his day.

Maybe his therapist had been right after all.

He had talked to CJ, she hadn't run away, she hadn't mocked him. She had almost managed to convince him.

He knew it wouldn't last long, he knew he'd doubt again tomorrow, but for now, it was enough.

Besides, his friends would be there tomorrow, and they would try to convince him again that he didn't have anything to be ashamed of.

It would take time, he didn't doubt that, but he had time.

And hope, he added inwardly. Let's not forget hope.

And let's not forget that people get better - it was a lesson he kept having to learn over and over again, but maybe one day, he would actually believe it.

In the meantime, he thought as he drifted off, in the meantime he had people who knew that and would keep reminding him.

He trusted them to do that.

And with that thought, Sam fell asleep, smiling softly.

END

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