Rainbow's End: 'Tell Me There's A Heaven' 7/11
TELL ME THERE'S A HEAVEN
Friday 14th November
"Sam, you gotta come to the Oval." Josh said as he bounced into Sam Seaborn's Office.
"Why?"
"The President's about to give the go ahead on the affirmative action. The petition is about to go to the U.N."
"O.K." Josh had started to leave while Sam stayed sitting behind his desk. When he had reached the edge of the Bullpen he realised that Sam was not with him, so he went back to see where his friend was.
"Sam, you might wanna get up." Josh said as he stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
"Yeah." Sam still didn't move. Josh came into the room properly now.
"Sam, you O.K.?" His query was answered with a sneeze. "You have a cold." He accused. "How long?"
"It's only come on today." Josh glared at Sam, attempting to assess the validity of his statement. He was saved the trouble, however, when Sam decided that it was less painful just to confess, it would take less out of him that way. "I started to feel a bit off yesterday. I hoped that it would turn out to be nothing." In fact it was an extension of the thing that had made Sam seem weary on Tuesday but only now had the full force hit, not feeling egregiously under the weather until the day before; the Thursday.
"You shouldn't have come in."
"I couldn't very well stay at home." Sam said plaintively.
"No. Sorry man, I wasn't..."
"It's O.K. Josh." Sam sighed.
C.J. was on her way to the Oval Office via the Bullpen, so they could all go as a happy band. She saw Josh in Sam's office and decided that she would go in and find out what was going on.
"Hey guys." C.J. said as she took a quick look at the other two men in the room. She took a closer look at Sam. "Well, you don't look very well, Spanky."
"He's sick." Josh informed her. A concerned look flitted across C.J.'s face and went up to Sam to put her hand to his forehead, which he promptly batted away.
"How old are you?" Toby asked as he too came into the room.
"It's busier than Dupont Circle in here!" Sam moaned as C.J. promptly attempted a second attack, which Sam also ably defended.
"I presume he's the reason why we're not all in the Oval Office right now." Toby observed.
"Sam's sick."
"I'm a little off colour." The more people who arrived and attempted to mother him and take his temperature, the more defensive Sam got.
Toby walked right up to his Deputy to take a closer look to him. Not wanting to waste time playing games, Toby decided to try a little affirmative action of his own and threw down the proverbial gauntlet.
"Sam, if you're sick, go lay down in my office, if you're not, get your ass to the Oval Office right now." Thinking that Sam would admit defeat, especially after the boat had pretty much sailed as to his colleagues knowing, Toby waited for the young speechwriter to go into his office. Instead Sam dragged himself to his feet and led the group to the Oval Office.
Sam was feeling horrible; he had a headache and the feeling that he may have a fever. He had already swallowed down several Tylenol, but they did not seem to be doing much good. He felt a little queasy and often a little dizzy. There was no doubt about it, what was feeling a touch 'off' just the day before was turning into the worst bout of flu he had had since he was at college at Princeton. He remembered that only too well.
He had been almost fine one day, just feeling a little bit funny, then when he had awoken the next morning to get ready to go to class he felt awful. In two minds whether he should go or not, Sam decided that he ought not miss his class; it was too important and the way his luck worked, the only class he missed all year would be the crucial one.
Sam had dragged himself in for his Comparative Human Rights Lecture; his nose was running like he had never known the whole way through, he was coughing, he was sneezing, he was shivering from the cold and spent most of the lecture wrapped up tightly in his coat with his scarf an article with which he never usually borrowed, wrapped round his neck. Even with all these measures he still shivered. He had an uncomfortable ache in his back and fidgeted a lot, it was the most miserable two hours he remembered. He took himself home and was in bed and asleep a couple hours later where he spent most of the night until he crawled out of bed at 9.00pm reasoning that if he didn't he would be unable to sleep through the rest of the night.
Sam took himself off to bed again after the new most miserable two hours off his life at 11.00pm, dosed up with medicines. Unaccustomed to taking painkillers or aspirin, so much so that just one usually knocked him out, he took his fourth one of the day expecting to be unconscious well into next week. He did sleep, though not well. He dreamt that he happened be in a Presidential motorcade, in the same car as the President, no less, a bizarre dream for a college student with the aspirations and ability to work in corporate law, but that was what he dreamt nonetheless. While in the car there were 'things' that had been eating their way through the cables that connected all the important bits of the car. As Sam felt the car lurch to the left he sat bolt upright in bed, thrust there by the movement of the vehicle. After that he found sleep elusive and any time he did doze off he was haunted by more dreams of crashing automobiles. Somehow, and this part was a little hazy, the car had been saved by him and the 'things' that had caused the damage had been disposed of; for his role, whatever that may have been, he was offered a job as Counsellor to the President. He became part of the inner-circle. One might say that it was prophetic. He did not forget that dream; nor did he forget the thing that induced it.
"That was some good work everybody." The President said as he picked up a pile of papers from the Executive Desk. The Staff were all standing around him in front of the Executive Desk. "Oliver Babish says that all the complaints are legitimate. It really is excellent. It's being couriered to UN HQ as we speak, I would love to have taken it myself. We're ready to release this to the press now. I'd like to make my own statement later on in the day, but C.J. should start the leak now."
"You should do a vague general release, C.J. and then give something more specific to a handful in the room C.J." Toby intervened.
"Any suggestions who, Tobias?" C.J. asked.
"Give it to the ones with the best attendance record." Josh put in.
"Are you doing the briefing Joshua?" C.J. asked.
"I could..." Josh started then he caught the looks on four of the five other faces in the room. "Then again, maybe not?" He tried.
"Good guess." The President said. The President took a glance around the room at his staff; he was sure that he just saw Sam shivering. "Sam?"
"Yes, Mr. President?"
"You O.K.?"
"Sir?"
"You're shivering. Are you a little cold there?"
"I guess it may be a little cold in here, Sir."
"The heating's working fine, Sam." Leo said.
"He's sick." C.J. said.
"Seriously?"
"Yes, Mr. President. I think that he has a fever but he won't let me near him to see."
"You feeling a little temperamental there, Sam?"
"No Sir."
"Go home," The President instructed. "Now."
Toby intervened here.
"Sam, go lay in my office." Sam looked doubtfully about the room. "Go now." Toby instructed. "Take him Josh." Josh moved off towards the door and once he was clear of the group around the desk, waited for Sam to do the same. When the movement was unforthcoming Josh went back to his friend and loosely slipped his arm around Sam's waist and guided him toward the door that by-passed the Outer Office and took them straight to the hallway and the quickest route back to Communications.
"Toby, I don't mind you undermining my authority but I'd rather you didn't do it while I'm still in the room." The President said.
"Yes, Sir." Toby said, a certain degree of humbleness in his voice. Leo grinned; the President did not realise the phenomenal power in the offices that surrounded this one: Toby issuing his own set of orders, Josh inventing a secret plan to fight inflation and Margaret practicing signing the President's name and offering to expedite matters by doing so on a document removing the President from power.
"What was that about?"
"He can't go home, Sir. He's terrified that he's going to give whatever it is he's got to Alexandra and she's only just come out of the hospital and gotten over a nasty infection."
"Ah. I see."
"I'll keep him in my office and then find something to do with him later. Thing is, he can't go home and I think he wants to avoid being by himself right now. I think he needs the distraction of work."
"Toby, I'll call my wife and see if she can squeeze Sam in this morning. See what she has to say. I'll let you know a time."
"Yes Sir." Toby said.
"Start the leak, C.J."
"Mr. President."
"And don't let Josh near the Press Room; whenever he's in the vicinity of the media he seems to have this incomparable way of opening his mouth and getting himself into trouble."
"Yes Sir."
"O.K. Toby. Take care of Sam and make sure he sees my wife."
"Mr. President."
"Get going." Leo said. Once the room was cleared the President bellowed.
"Mrs. Landingham! Can you see if my wife has any free time this morning to see Sam."
"Yes Sir."
"And then can you call Toby's office and let him know when she's free."
"Yes Sir."
X X X
Toby and C.J. got back to the Communications Bullpen to find Sam lying on his side on Toby's sofa with Josh holding him there, Sam was complaining all the way, though if he was honest, he really was too tired to put up that good a fight.
"Sam." Toby said, crouching down so that he was at eyelevel with his Deputy. "We want you to see Mrs. Bartlet. Let her take a quick look at you."
"I don't NEED to see the First Lady." Sam whined.
"No Sam; you don't WANT to see the First Lady, there's a difference." Josh pointed out.
"Either way, you're not going to convince me."
"You're going to see her Sam, even if I have to drag you to her office myself." Toby was very determined.
"Yes sir." Sam sighed. He gave up the fight that he knew he would never have won.
"Can you boys manage in here by yourselves?" C.J. asked Toby and Sam.
"We'll be fine. I don't think that he'll be much trouble." Toby said quietly, looking at his weary Deputy, who was being surprisingly compliant and lying passively on the sofa. "Go start the leak." He stood up to go to his desk, his knees protesting loudly as he did so.
"O.K. Come on Josh. Let Sam sleep." C.J. waggled Sam's foot as she walked past it and then slipped her arm through Josh's and started pulling him gently toward the door.
"One sec, C.J., please." Josh said. He now crouched down near Sam, taking the place Toby had just vacated. "You gonna be O.K. buddy?" Sam nodded. "O.K. you get some sleep and go see Mrs. Bartlet when you're told. Feel better Sam."
"Thanks." Sam's lips were tinged with a shadow of his usual smile, he was grateful for his friends concern but he was preoccupied with his worries.
When Josh had finished leaving his orders for Sam, he followed C.J. from the room with no protestations, only a few fleeting concerned glances over his shoulder. Toby nodded his head, assuring the two others who were just as concerned as he was, that Sam was in good hands and that he would be fine.
Sam finally (well, about five minutes later) closed his eyes and started to nod off while Toby worked quietly at his desk on the President's official remarks on the situation, when Bonnie knocked softly on the door, giving Toby a piece of paper with the time of Sam's appointment with Mrs. Bartlet. Sam was told the time of his appointment but he was so close to sleep it is safe to assume that it was one of those things that went into one ear and out of the other.
Toby worked away until he was disturbed once more, by Ginger, this time.
"Toby, I'm sorry. There's a phone call for you. Won't give his name but says it's urgent." Normally Toby would have shirked taking the call until the person on the other end decided that they wanted to play fair and leave a name, preferably a real one. Something about this call seemed different; his instincts told Toby that he should take this call, even putting it above the President's address.
"Put it through, please, Ginger." Ginger looked a little surprised but she said nothing and went back out into the Bullpen to put the call through. "Toby Ziegler." He said. He listened intently to the person on the other end of the phone, looking grim. "O.K." He said finally. "Meet me at the Four Seasons in thirty minutes." He put the phone down, grabbed his coat and rushed out into the Bullpen.
"Toby?" Bonnie was surprised by the speed at which Toby was heading toward the exit.
"Bonnie, can you keep your eye on Sam for me? Make sure he goes in to see Mrs. Bartlet at 11.00, if you have to drag him down there, do it. Call Josh and C.J. if he still won't go; make them take him."
"Sure. Toby, is everything O.K.?"
"I hope so." Toby said as he rushed through the door. If you need me I'll be on my cell but only if, and I mean ONLY, only if it's an emergency or Sam..." Toby waved his hands about vaguely.
"Sure."
The Four Seasons
When Toby got to the Four Seasons, he looked about him nervously, looking for the person whom he was supposed to meet. There was no sign of him yet, so Toby took a seat to wait. He didn't have to wait long though, the person who had contacted him showed up about five minutes after Toby. As soon as Toby saw him walk through the doors he jumped to his feet and raised his hand in the air to attract the person's attention. As soon as the person saw Toby's signal, he crossed the room in long strides.
The man with whom Toby was meeting had a wave of light brown hair, cut short but the mass of curls still evident. He was a good few inches taller than Toby and you would, from looking at him, think he was a few years younger, though in actual fact there was only a couple months difference in their ages. He had green eyes that darted about the room nervously, Toby could see his unease at being in such a public place for this meeting instantly, though Toby concluded better meeting there than at the White House, where there was a greater likelihood of the man having to face the fallout.
"He did it." The man had the traces of a European accent of some sort.
"What?"
"He authorised this."
"You're serious?" The man shook his head. "And you know this for sure?"
There was a pause in the conversation as a waitress came to take their drinks order. Toby opted for a glass of orange juice while the man with him ordered a soda water.
"I was in the room when he gave the go order, Toby." Toby nodded.
"I appreciate your coming to me. I know you could get into a lot of trouble for this."
"I've been in more trouble for less." He shrugged.
"Still." The waitress put the two glasses on the table and left them to it.
"We should do lunch sometime."
"We should. When this has died down."
"Yeah."
"I think that the best thing for you to do at the moment is keep a low profile." Toby said, thoughtfully running his finger around the rim of his glass.
"Yes."
"I can get you on your cell?"
"Sure. Not many people have that number."
"You'll be alright? You don't need anything?"
"Let's hope not." The man murmured with a sardonic smile.
"Thank you." The man who had been sitting with Toby drained the last of his water and prepared to leave. He reached for his wallet but Toby indicated for him to put it away. "It's fine. I got the check." The man nodded and walked briskly away from the table.
Toby sipped at his orange juice pensively, wondering how he was going to break this news to the President. It occurred to him that he should call C.J. and tell her to postpone the Press Briefing but a quick glimpse of his watch showed that he was too late; the briefing would be over already. He finished his juice and paid for the drinks leaving a generous tip and left for the White House.
"Sam?" C.J. said quietly as she walked into Toby's office. "Sam sweetie, it's time for you to go and see the First Lady." The magic words: 'First Lady' and the fear that was associated with them woke Sam up with a jolt.
"C.J.?" He croaked, his voice hoarse from the sleep.
"You have to go see Mrs. Bartlet right now. Ginger and Bonnie didn't have the heart to wake you up so they called for me." Sam looked around the room, a little confused.
"Where's Toby?"
"He had to step out for a minute." C.J. said as she swiped a stray piece of hair from Sam's eyes, using the opportunity to see if he had a fever. This time his mind was too sluggish from all the sleep to protest until it was too late. "You DO have a fever!" C.J. exclaimed, though she did her best to withhold the 'I told you so comment' that was so evidently rising to the surface. "Come on. I think it's bad manners to keep the First Lady of the United States waiting." C.J. helped Sam to sit up, his legs stretched out in front of him and waited patiently as he became orientated, repeating the process when she helped him sit properly on the couch and then once again when she helped him stand. She walked him down to the lair...office of Abigail Bartlet and left him in the safe hands of the First Lady.
"So Sam, my husband tells me that you're not feeling quite yourself."
"No Ma'am," Sam shook his head mournfully.
"Can I give you a quick exam.?"
"But I've not had any time to study." Sam tried weakly as a diversionary tactic.
"Funny, Sam. Now, sit down and lift you're shirt for me!"
X X X
"Donna, is he about?" Toby stormed past Donna looking for Josh.
"He's in his office Toby. Can I get him for you?"
"No." It was too late anyway. Toby had already pushed open the door to the Deputy Chief of Staff's office. "Josh," Josh was shocked by Toby's sudden intrusion and his feet fell from where they had been reclining on his desk. "we need to see the President."
"Toby?" Josh wondered what was making the Communications Director burn. Toby had already turned and walked out of Josh's office at a rapid pace. Josh shot to his feet and jogged after him.
"Where's C.J.?"
"I don't..." C.J. appeared from the hallway that would lead her back to her office.
"C.J. We need to get to the Oval." And Toby was off again. C.J. upped her pace to keep up with the other two men, her heels clacking on the floor.
They reached the Outer Office to find that Mrs. Landingham had stepped out for a moment and there was no sign of Charlie. Toby fidgeted, tapping his foot up and down restlessly.
"Toby, calm down." C.J. said.
"Damn." Toby said, obviously remembering something.
"What?" Josh asked perplexed.
"I'll be back in a minute." He made for the door. "I want to go to Communications to make sure they got Sam down to see Mrs. Bartlet. At least if they didn't, it's not too late, I can do it myself."
C.J. walked up to Toby and put her hand on his shoulder. It grounded him a little and he paused.
"He's gone to see her Toby."
"You're sure?"
"I took him myself."
"You did?"
"I did. Ginger and Bonnie called me. They didn't want to wake him."
"You had no such scruples?"
"I did not." Toby smiled and nodded his gratitude to C.J. "Now, why don't you tell me what has gotten you so wound up you look as if you're about to spontaneously combust." Toby was prevented from replying by the bustling of a phalanx of secret service agents, followed by Charlie, the President, Leo and a few more agents for good measure all of whom crowded into the Oval Office. Charlie dropped out of the procession and stopped at his desk, smiling at the Senior Staff.
"Guys, is it important? He's about to get on a conference call about the thing."
"Yeah." Said Toby. "We need to see him now." The urgency evident from his agitated tone of voice and the incessant fidgeting that had started up again as soon as C.J. had taken her hand from his shoulder.
"O.K. I'll let him know. He'll be able to see you in a minute."
"Thanks Charlie." Josh said.
"Is he all right?" Charlie asked, inclining his head toward Toby. "He looks like he's about to have a heart attack."
"Our Communications Staff are a little highly strung at the moment." Josh answered Charlie back in a quiet voice. Charlie grinned at Josh's understatement, an unusual thing for the Deputy Chief of Staff to be sure and stepped into the Oval Office to tell the President that the Staff needed to see him and if it wasn't soon there would be a bloody mess from where Toby had exploded on the carpet.
"He says he'll see you guys now." Charlie said, stepping out of the Oval.
"Thanks Charlie." Said Josh as he led them in.
"Chucky!" said C.J. as she passed the President's personal aide, a wicked glint in her eyes; they met with Charlie's eyes, which were set in something of a disapproving glare. Toby simply marched passed not saying a single thing.
On seeing them enter, the President scanned the faces of his Senior Staff, Leo standing by his side.
"What did Josh do now?" he asked.
"Josh didn't do anything." Josh said, looking indignant. "Why does everybody assume that it's my fault we're in here?"
"Past experience." Leo stated calmly. Everybody sat down nervously, waiting for Toby to say why he had wanted them all there. Toby's foot was still tapping nervously.
"What happened?" The tension in the room was palpable.
X X X
"I think you have the flu Sam."
"I could've told you that, Ma'am."
"You're fever's not so high to cause me great concern though."
"Good."
"But I'm afraid the discomfort of the other symptoms, you'll have to suffer. You taking Tylenol?"
"Yes Ma'am."
"Good. You should take it easy too."
"Yes, Ma'am." The First Lady, Abigail Bartlet sat next to Sam on a sofa in her office.
"You're tired?"
"Ma'am." Sam admitted.
"And you're worried, no doubt."
"Ma'am."
"Do you want to talk to me about it?"
"I don't."
"Sam." Mrs. Bartlet said, her voice an inch away from threatening. "How is Alexandra?"
"She's getting by. You know, she finalised the sale of her apartment the other weekend?"
"It's good to be prepared, Sam."
"I know that, it's just...I had to go with her to prepare her will the other day. I mean, that was just weird."
"You have a will, don't you?"
"I do." Sam nodded, "but I'm not planning on using it any time soon."
"I don't think many people do Sam. What about her parents?"
"She's an only child. Her Mom died in childbirth and her Dad died of complications from pneumonia last year. They were both older parents." Abbey nodded. "I want to know what happens after."
"Sam."
"I mean, when...you know, happens and we all know that it will, I want to know what will happen."
"You'll have to contact the funeral home..."
"No." Sam interrupted. "I mean, what happens...well, what happens to me. She's become such a big part of my life...I don't know what to do without her."
"I don't want to patronise you Sam. You're an adult, a highly intelligent one at that, but she will always be with you, if you let her."
"Can I ask you, Ma'am? Do you believe in an afterlife?"
"My husband and I are both Catholic, Sam."
"Yeah."
"I like to think there's something more anyway."
"The spirit is an important thing." Sam nodded. "Thing is, I don't want to be left by myself."
"You know everyone here will be there for you. All you have to do is come to us."
"I know that Ma'am."
X X X
A little girl she said to me
"What are these things that I can see
Each night when I come home from school
When Mama calls me in for tea?"
Oh every night a baby dies
And every night a mother cries.
What makes those men do what they do
To make a person black and blue?
Grandpa says they're happy now,
They sit with God in paradise with angel's wings
And still somehow, it makes me feel like ice.
Tell me there's a heaven, tell me that it's true
Tell me there's a reason why I'm seeing what I do
Tell me there's a heaven where all those people go
Tell me they're all happy now, papa, tell me that it's so.
So do I tell her that it's true?
That there's a place for me and you.
Where happy children smile and say
"We wouldn't have no other way."
And I'm looking at the father and the son
And I'm looking at the mother and the daughter
And I'm watching now in tears of pain
And I'm watching them suffer.
Don't tell that little girl, tell me!
Tell me there's a heaven, tell me that it's true.
Tell me there's a reason why I'm seeing what I do.
Tell me there's a heaven where all those people go.
Tell me they're all happy now, father,
Tell me that it's so.
Tell me there's a heaven.
Tell me.
('Tell Me There's A Heaven' by Chris Rea)
X X X
"Good people die, Sam. Whether they deserve to or not."
"It makes me feel empty. The thought of being without her makes me feel cold."
"Sam?"
"I'm frightened that when she's dead and gone I'm going to feel nothing. The ache in my heart I've been feeling has been getting more and more intense but at the same time it's been diminishing. I'm afraid that after she's dead there'll be nothing left." The emotion he felt was exhausting him and playing on his already brittle emotions and affecting his ability to handle and process information.
"You'll never feel nothing Sam."
"But what if I forget her?"
"You won't. Things will stay in your mind; little things. Certain smells, certain feelings inside you. You'll remember."
"Do you promise me?"
"I do. You're a strong man Sam. Everybody here loves you and nobody wants to see you get hurt, but..."
"But bad things happen to good people. So I've been told." The weight of emotion made Sam's voice thick but he was adamant that he would maintain decorum in front of the First Lady.
"Everybody's very proud of you, you know, Sam. A lot of people would have got themselves away as fast as they possibly could. Through thick and thin, through the bad times..."
"And the worse times." Sam interrupted dejectedly, tears glinting in his eyes and a lump stuck in his throat but Abbey carried on unperturbed.
"Through the bad times and the good times, you've been there for her. You really do love her, Sam, I can see that. And I do know it's difficult. It's a big thing to accept, Alex may only be so philosophical about it all because she's not going to have to live with the grief. I'm not saying that she has it easy, you know that I wouldn't but her one consolation is that her problems will soon be over."
"And mine are just beginning." Sam took a deep breath to control his emotions. "Why'd it have to be her, Mrs. Bartlet? She's never done a thing to hurt anyone. Why is it her that has to die? I mean, I always figured that if I had nothing else in my life I would always have hope, but here there's not even any hope to cling to now. No hope at all." Decorum gone with his fever addled mind, Sam was now crying properly. Abbey looked at the young speech writer and her heart went out to him. She put her arm around his shoulders and it surprised her when Sam didn't pull away. Instead he leaned into it and accepted the support that Mrs. Bartlet offered and she hugged him as his shoulders shook, grateful that she could offer Sam at least that. She was determined that he should not feel alone or abandoned.
Abbey remembered all the things that she had felt when Jed's M.S. had been diagnosed. She looked down at Sam sympathetically, he was unaware that the President had a potential bomb inside of him, something that if it blew had the potential to alter everybody's life. She knew it never would, he would be safely out of office before relapsing/remitting turned into secondary progressive. At least she could give him the four years of happiness he wanted and then she would be there for the rest. Just the one term and then Jed could retire happy, she could continue to practice medicine on a more casual basis and they could live what was left of both of their lives together; be it long or short term. She thought what news like that could do to Sam, especially coming so close to Rosslyn where his boss (and Abbey knew that the Staff loved the President) but also his best friend (particularly his best friend) could have died.
"We'll get by Sam. We always do." Abbey said quietly into Sam's hair. "We always, always do."