"It hurts when I breathe," Sam said, hoping someone would care enough to do something about it.
"That's not surprising," a cheerful voice told him. "You cracked a few ribs."
"I did?"
That was… unfortunate.
"What do you remember?" the voice asked.
The first thing that came to his mind was his conversation with Josh.
"You lied to me."
He grimaced, and it came back to him.
"I was running."
"Yes?"
"I heard brakes," he added.
"I suppose you did, yes. I'm doctor Kendall, by the way. Can we contact someone? You didn't have any ID."
He didn't particularly want them to contact anyone, no. He didn't want to see his colleagues more than necessary, didn't want to witness his second family crash and burn.
But they had to pretend that they were still united, and still standing by the President. Even if they wanted to be anywhere but here.
He sighed, and gave them Toby's number. He didn't want to deal with Josh and he suspected it was mutual.
"What happened?" he asked then.
"We're not sure. There were no witnesses, and whoever hit you didn't call for help. One of the neighbors heard the brakes, went to see what had happened and found you. You're lucky he checked."
"Yet, I feel pretty unlucky," Sam said.
"You have a slight concussion - I wouldn't try to move my head if I were you."
Sam, who had yet to take his eyes off the ceiling, and hadn't had any intention of moving his head any time soon, grunted in acknowledgement.
"Three cracked ribs - you're going to be sore for a while, there."
That would explain why it hurt when he breathed, Sam mused. There was something else, he could tell from the heavy silence in the room.
"I'm feeling an 'and' coming," he said, trying to mask his nervousness.
"Yes. You have a dislocated knee."
Sam swallowed. "How bad?" he asked, still staring at the ceiling.
The doctor leaned over him, and he finally was able to put a face to her voice. She was slightly older than he would have thought, based only on the voice. She looked pretty grim, and he closed his eyes briefly, before making eye contact with her.
"As bad as it could possibly get?" he asked.
"Unfortunately. It's a complete dislocation of the knee joint; the four main ligaments have been torn, and the artery was severed. As I said, you were lucky to have been found when you were - you were bleeding pretty badly, the knee was very swollen when you arrived here."
"Surgery?" he asked.
"Yes. We only took care of the artery, we'll fix the ligaments in a few days."
He sighed softly. He had been tired enough without having to deal with this on top of everything else.
He tried to move his head at last, wanting to see where he was.
It proved to be a mistake.
He moaned and bit his lip, waiting for the wave of pain to subside.
"Sir?"
"Hurts," he gasped, not feeling up to a more detailed description.
"I'll give you something for the pain," she said.
He closed his eyes.
The last thing he thought was, "Toby is going to be pissed."
*****
Sam opened his eyes, saw the very white ceiling above him, and remembered instantly that he was in a hospital.
"Nice bruises," Toby said, from somewhere on his left.
Remembering his last experience, Sam moved his head very slowly to look at his boss, noticing with relief that the pain was a little less intense than it had been last night.
"Thanks," he said weakly. "It took some pain to get them, I'm glad they meet with your approval."
His tone was so sarcastic it was almost painful to hear, he realized. But he felt entitled to be bitter.
They stayed silent for a moment. Toby shifted uneasily from foot to foot, before asking, "How do you feel?"
"Hurts all over," he said.
"Well, you were hit by a car," Toby said, and Sam noticed that for all the apparent levity, his boss looked concerned.
"Yeah."
"How did it happen?"
"Went for a run, got hit by the car, woke up here," Sam summarized.
"It was raining," Toby pointed out.
"So I noticed."
Toby was studying him, and Sam added, "Toby, I know it was stupid to go running in the dark and the rain, please, there's really no need to insist."
"I wasn't going to," his boss said. "Just… I'm glad you're okay."
Sam bit back a retort. He was not okay - he was in for another surgery, then for what he suspected would be a lengthy physical therapy period.
He had been hit by a car, and whoever had done that hadn't even stopped to check that he was still alive. True, his injuries could have been a lot worse. And if they had been, he would have been left alone on the street, unconscious, unable to call for help, and maybe bleeding to death.
"Sam…"
Sam closed his eyes, not wanting his boss to see how tired he was, and how depressed he felt, all the time.
He couldn't even bring himself to be really angry at the anonymous driver - he knew he should, but really, all he felt was a crushing disappointment. What kind of people did that?
"Sam…" Toby repeated.
"What?"
"Are you going to be okay?"
Sam looked at him incredulously. Toby rubbed his beard, adding, "I know things look pretty glum right now, and you landed in a hospital, on top of it. Are you…"
"I'll be fine," Sam said flatly.
"Yeah," his boss said, unconvinced.
"What do you want me to tell you?" Sam asked. His voice sounded defeated in his own ears.
"How you feel. Really."
**I'm pissed at the President, and I know it's not fair, because he has this disease, and he didn't ask for it, but still, he could have told us what we were getting into. And his defense, his, "But I never thought it would get that far."? That's what my dad told me after we learned about Her, and that was * not * the thing to say. He knew there was a chance, and when things did get this far, he had three years to tell us. And still, he didn't. And it hurts, and I'm scared of what it means - for this administration, which means so much to me. For the country, at large. For me, personally. For us, as a team. And Josh… I think I lost my best friend, Toby, and he lied to me, and he had promised.**
He couldn't say all that, so Sam smiled, feeling empty. "I'll be fine," he repeated.
Toby looked about to argue, then seemed to think better of it. "You know that if you want to talk…"
"Yeah," Sam said, wondering why Toby still bothered. He hadn't taken him up on his offer after The Announcement, and they hadn't really talked since then.
When Sam fell asleep again, his boss was still there, and he still felt alone.
*****
The West Wing
Four hours later
"He didn't say - ?" Josh tried to ask again.
Toby exploded. "No, Josh, he didn't say much, and he certainly didn't say that he hated you and refused to see you. Could we, please, stop it with the playground drama and get back to work?"
Josh blinked. "That was…"
"Josh, so help me God…"
"I'm just… we had had a fight before he went home. He looked down."
"As he always does these days," Toby answered, trying to hide his own worry and keep his face neutral.
"Exactly."
"Josh… it's not going to get better overnight."
"I know that, I'm not an idiot, but… there hasn't been any sign of amelioration at all, Toby. If nothing else, he seems worse."
"I know."
"Even Leo and the President have noticed," Josh insisted.
"I know."
"And they're wondering what's wrong with him."
"Josh, is there a point to this enumeration of things I ALREADY KNOW?" Toby's bellow was heard in the whole bullpen, and everyone paused briefly, before going back to work, pretending nothing had happened. All the staffers got accustomed pretty quickly to Toby's temper, and those who didn't, left. In the last months, Toby had been even more quick to anger. Everyone pretended not to notice - just as everyone pretended not to notice how withdrawn Sam was becoming, how rare it was to see CJ pay a visit to the guys, or to hear Josh and Donna banter.
Toby added, more quietly, "Besides, Leo and the President don't wonder what's wrong with Sam."
"Yeah."
"They know exactly what's wrong with Sam." He had been trying to swallow his bitterness, but he was sure Josh had heard it.
"Yeah."
"And they think, as we all do, that he needs time."
Josh, clearly not satisfied with the answer, opened his mouth to protest, thought better of it, and closed it again. Toby sighed. There was no point to this conversation, he knew. They had talked about it time and time again, nothing changed. Sam continued to detach himself from them, Josh continued to worry in front of everyone but Sam, and Toby continued to wonder how much more time it would take for his deputy to tender his resignation.
Josh had gone back to his office when Toby finally stopped staring off into space, and went back to work.
End part 2