Chapter Sixteen

"Try it again but don't grip so hard with your thumb." Judy leant away from the table and watched closely as Sam made a second attempt at writing his name. Judy had witnessed no more panic attacks, instead Sam went about any work on his hand in a detached manner and Judy had become used to the silence that descended as soon as her sessions begun.

She looked at the initials Sam had printed and was pleased with his improving control and coordination. "That's a lot better, Sam. Can you see the improvement from last week?"

Sam nodded and continued carefully writing the letters o, r and n. It looked to him like something his third grade teacher would have thrown in the trashcan but at least he was able to keep hold of the pen now.

"You're pressing too hard with your thumb. Let your other fingers do the work." Sam nodded again and finished a shaky down stroke of the last letter.

"You did it, Sam. A month ago you couldn't even hold a pen! Let's leave it there for today."

Sam was up and out of the chair and making them coffee before Judy had got the lid back on the pen. She packed away her equipment and covered it with the cloth that she always found over it when she arrived.

"Doughnuts!" Judy cried, looking at Sam's tray as he entered the room.

Sam sat down next to her and handed her a cup. Normally after his sessions he became more animated but today he seemed to be as aloof as he had been earlier.

"Next week we'll do some work on the keyboard if you like. See how dexterous your fingers are after the workout they'll get from the exercises you'll be doing when I'm not here."

Sam concentrated on stirring his coffee but Judy caught the smile that flashed across his face. "I do my exercises."

"Well, I'll soon know if you haven't," Judy said as she placed her doughnut quickly over her plate to catch the drip of jam. "You'll be going back to work soon?" she asked. In the short time he had known her Sam was amazed at how adept she was at knowing exactly what was on his mind.

"They want me to. My father wants me to work with him, so…"

"So?"

"So, I suppose I'm lucky to have more than one option."

"Why is not going back to the White House an option? I would have thought you'd be eager to get back to work."

Sam just shrugged so Judy carried on. "Are you worried about how you'll cope until your hand is fully healed? You needn't be, there are lots of things that can be done to help until you have regained full use of it. Mr McGarry has organised this therapy for you so I don't see why he wouldn't be accommodating once you're back at work. Or is there another reason why you don't want to return?"

Sam turned to Judy and gave her a look that suggested there was no chance he was going to carry on the conversation. "You've got jam on your chin," he said and then smiled.

"I haven't got jam on my chin and you're changing the subject. If I had jam on my chin I'd feel it. I won medals in college for eating the most doughnuts without losing a drop of jam."

Sam looked at her with mock horror. "All this time I thought you were the ultimate professional and it turns out you're just a big old doughnut freak."

They sat in companionable silence, Sam painfully aware of any jam that leaked from his doughnut and Judy showing him the technique that had made her Doughnut Queen two years running.

After Judy left, Sam quickly set about tidying the apartment and getting things ready for his guest. He decided to change into a smarter pair of pants and at the last moment replaced his T-shirt with a sweater. He had only just pulled it over his head and straightened his hair when the buzzer sounded. He hurried over to the door and grabbed hold of the box of cigars that were thrust into his hands as the man walked by him and into the room.

"Get that coffee going, son, I've only been able to get my hands on decaf all morning."

Sam walked obediently into the kitchen and listened to his father's recount of his morning as he made them both a large cup of black coffee.

"Your mother still spending the weekends here?" he asked as Sam handed him a cup and sat down opposite him.

"Yeah, I think she's staying home this weekend, Aunt Jenny's coming to visit."

Scott Seaborn rolled his eyes at the mention of his sister-in-law. "Shall I stay around then? I've got to go back early Sunday but we could do something Saturday?"

"Yeah, great." Sam took a sip of his coffee and placed the cup back on the table. "Why are you asking me to work for you now?"

"I'm asking you to be a partner, Sam, and why not now? Now is the perfect time as far as I can see."

"When I left Gage Whitney you told me what a mistake I was making and you asked me to work with you instead. You didn't want me giving up everything based on a hunch of Josh's. Remember that night you came to New York just after I'd split with Lisa?"

"I remember," Scott said trying to remember what else he had said that night.

"I was packing my things and Josh was coming to collect me. Just before he came you asked me to work for you again. You said I would be better off crawling back to Gage Whitney than running around after some pompous presidential hopeful." Sam glanced at his father and he nodded slowly. He didn't remember but it sounded like something he would have said.

"You said that it was the last time you would ask me, that if I chose Bartlet over you, you wouldn't ask me again."

"If you say so but things are different now-"

"So, I've been thinking," Sam carried on, "Why are you asking me again? Why didn't you ask me after the MS news broke? You knew I was thinking about leaving, why didn't you ask me then? You know what conclusion I came to?" Scott shook his head, "It's not that you want me to work with you so much as you don't want me to work with them. You don't want me to go back to the White House."

Scott took a swig of his coffee and then stood up. He walked over to the window and put his hands in his pockets. "You really think I asked you so that I could get one over on the Bartlet administration?"

"I think you're angry and you're trying to protect me. You know how the media works and you made comments that you knew would get attention and cause problems for them."

Scott sighed deeply before he turned away from the window and faced Sam. "I meant every word and if you think I'm going to apologise for trying to-"

"I don't want you to apologise, Dad, come on, that isn't what I'm saying."

Scott walked back over to Sam and sat down next to him. "You're going back then?"

"I wasn't going to. I was going to come and work with you. But…I think I have to. Everything is…" Sam rubbed at his face, "I don't know how to put it. Everything is different now, for me. Things that I thought I knew and understood are all altered. I'm altered. This isn't making much sense is it?"

"Not too much, no," Scott agreed.

"I think," Sam paused and lowered his head, "I think that if I don't go back I might never be able to get back to the person I was before this happened."

"You won't find the person you were in that building, unless you want to go back to being the sort of person who is valued so little that his-"

"Stop it! Stop doing that! Do you really think that I don't know all of that? You're not helping me you know, going on and on about how they could have saved me and how betrayed I should be feeling!"

Scott jumped to his feet and followed Sam who had spun away from.

"Why in God's name are you going back there if that's how you feel?"

"Because I'm too fucking frightened to go anywhere else!" Sam shouted back so loudly that his father was stunned into silence and watched him warily from the doorway before slowly walking towards him.

Scott reached out and placed a hand on Sam's arm. Sam didn't move so Scott pulled him around to face him, for an awkward moment, Sam thought he was going to pull him into a hug.

Scott kept his hand on Sam's arm and shook him slightly as he spoke. "That's not the most convincing argument you could make, son."

"It will have to do because it's all I have." This time Scott did pull Sam forward and wrapped his arms around him. Sam tried to remember the last time his father had hugged him and couldn't. He smelt of cigars and aftershave and although Sam couldn't remember many embraces he realised he could remember the smell of them. The phone rang in the living room but Sam let it ring, content to bury himself in scents long forgotten and a comfort that was unexpected.

Jason had cleared his belongings from Sam's office and happily cleared himself from Toby's vicinity. Toby and Josh had taken him for a drink the night before and Toby, after a few whiskeys, had said some complimentary things about Jason's work. Jason was under no illusions though, he wasn't Sam and that was who Toby wanted sitting in the office next to him. Jason didn't mind, he had learnt more in the few weeks he had spent with Toby than he would in years with anyone else. As much as Toby had been impossible to work for, Jason wouldn't have swapped the experience for anything.

The following morning CJ made her way to Sam's office. Now that Jason was gone it looked like Sam had never been away. Toby had made sure of that. CJ walked towards the desk and placed a bouquet of flowers on it.

"I thought we said no fuss," Josh said as leant against the doorjamb.

"We did, but flowers aren't fuss they're welcoming."

"We decided that we weren't going to do the welcome thing. We decided that Sam would be uncomfortable with that."

"Yeah, you're right." CJ walked forwards and picked up the vase.

"They're nice flowers though," Josh said and CJ walked towards the desk again and placed them back on it.

"But then one bunch of flowers looks like we have done the welcome thing but only half-heartedly."

CJ started to walk towards the desk again but stopped. "Toby!"

Toby came out of his office and stood next to Josh. "What?"

"Flowers- too much of the welcome thing or making the lack of a welcome thing really obvious?" CJ asked as she cocked her head and stared at the flowers on the desk.

"We talked about this, we decided. I don't think…" Toby's voice trailed off as he saw Ginger and Bonnie walking towards him, "I don't think we told enough people about the not having a welcome thing," Toby said as Ginger and Bonnie pushed past him laden down with fruit baskets, cards and bouquets.

"Wow, this is…wow," Josh muttered as he started to read the labels attached to the various gifts. "We've missed you, with love from the catering team. Good to have you back, Tom and Mike. Glad to hear you're back at work, your friends at Capital Beat." Josh stuck his hands in his pockets and watched Ginger arranging the gifts around the room. "I didn't get anything like this when I came ba-"

CJ smacked Josh on the back of his head. "Please don't start, Joshua!"

They stayed for a while and helped Ginger and Bonnie try to make it so that Sam would at least be able to get to his desk. Toby left them to it but returned after a while with Sam's laptop which he had borrowed from Sam the night before on the pretence of adding some files that he would need. CJ returned to her office after pushing her vase of flowers to the centre of Sam's desk. Josh sat opposite Toby and watched him work. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, just making some adjustments." Toby picked up a scrap of paper before returning to the keyboard. "A friend of mine told me how you can adapt keyboards. You can stop buttons that are brushed against or hit repeatedly showing up on the screen."

"Does Sam know?" Josh asked as he walked behind Toby to get a better view.

"No and there's no reason for him to. It'll just mean he'll make fewer errors until his hand is better."

"Yeah, whatever, so long as 'disabled functions now active' doesn't pop up when he logs on."

"Aren't you meant to be annoying someone else right now?" Toby asked without looking up.

Josh looked at his watch. "Damn, yeah," he said as he left the office.

Toby smiled when Josh had gone, he usually saved his smiles for when people had gone. He tapped away at the keys and thought about what else he could do to make Sam's life easier. When Judy had visited Toby accompanied by an occupational therapist she had suggested getting a left-handed mouse but Toby agreed with Josh that anything too obvious would be sure to upset Sam. He carried on making hidden adjustments and tried not to think about what else could upset Sam when he returned to work.

Toby and Josh had never talked to Sam about his statement and he had not mentioned it to them. He hadn't told them about his father's visit either. His mother had become increasingly worried about him but had already taken all the time she could off work. She had met with Toby and over lunch asked him to keep an eye on Sam and keep in touch with her. Toby felt uncomfortable reporting on Sam's well-being behind his back but he knew that Sam was unwilling to ask for help and so decided that it was up to them to look out for him.

And so, two weeks after Toby's meeting with Jessica, and one day after his own with his father, Sam decided to return to work. He had received an invitation from the President to afternoon tea and knew the purpose of it was to find out if he had decided to return to work and so he had phoned Leo immediately and told him that he was eager to return. It was a lie. Sam wasn't eager for anything except for the fear that had become his constant companion to dissipate and a hope to return to the man he had once been to be realised.

The plan was for Sam to visit on the Friday afternoon and start back at work on the following Monday. Sam signed the book at the security desk for the first time since he had left to go to the Colombian Embassy, and made his way to his office. He had managed to combat his fear of going outside by making sure that when he did he got a cab to pick him up straight outside his door and drop him off exactly outside wherever he was going.

He was greeted by Toby who had asked to be told as soon as Sam arrived. They walked along the corridors in silence.

"How do you feel?" Toby asked, awkwardly.

"Well, Jerry, I feel a bit anxious," Sam replied.

"I sound like Jerry Springer?" Toby asked as they rounded a corner.

"Yeah."

"Well here's some advice that you won't find on a TV pseudo psychiatrist's show; when you're in the Oval Office don't even look like you're wondering where the President's tea set came from."

"There's an intriguing but lengthy tale behind it?"

"There is," Toby confirmed.

As they entered the Communications Bullpen an awkward silence descended before Ginger broke it by rushing over to Sam and pulling him into a warm embrace.

"Welcome back, Sam," she said as Sam returned her hug with his left arm.

Toby halted any further shows of affection by asking in a loud voice if the hugs could continue after Sam had met with the President. Ginger made sure Sam made time to look at all the gifts and flowers in his office though. Sam patted her back before following Toby.

The nausea that he had felt on waking had been increasing and as Sam neared the office he was sure that the possibility of throwing up on the President's shoes was becoming more real by the second. "Wait!" he said to Toby and placed his hand on the wall as he took a few deep breaths.

"Okay?" Toby asked as he glanced at his watch.

"Yeah, it's just, the last time I saw him it wasn't…it didn't go well."

"Him?" Toby asked.

Sam winced as he realised his mistake, "The President, Toby, you know who I meant."

Toby gave Sam a few more moments to collect himself. "Ready?"

Sam nodded and took a deep breath before walking into the outer office and greeting Charlie.

"Hey man, it's good to see you. Really good." Sam accepted Charlie's brief hug not seeing Toby's frown as Sam kept his right arm by his side.

Charlie told them that the President was ready and they entered the Oval Office to find Josh and CJ already seated with looks of horrified ennui on their faces that made Toby smile despite the sound of the President's earnest voice as he described how the fine bone china tea set had made its way safely across three continents to the White House.

"Sam!" Josh cried beaming with relief at the sight of him and an end to the President's narrative.

Josh needn't have worried. On seeing him, Bartlet immediately stopped talking, all tales of tea sets forgotten as he looked up at Sam. "I can't tell you how happy it makes me to see you in this room again," he said as he walked towards him. He held out his right hand to Sam but quickly swapped when he saw Sam hold out his left to him. Bartlet clasped Sam's hand in both of his and smiled warmly. Sam wanted to sit down and silently prayed that would be the President's next move.

"Come and sit down. Wait until you see this tea set." The President sat back down and Sam and Toby took a seat opposite Josh and CJ. Bartlet poured a cup of tea for Toby and Sam and picked up his own cup before leaning back in his chair. "So, has your office been left in a fit state by your line of replacements?"

Sam looked at the President sipping his drink and wondered if he'd had a cup of tea after he told Leo not to cancel the Colombian Dinner. "I haven't really had time to take a proper look, sir. I'm sure it's fine."

Sam had put his cup back on the table. His hands were shaking and that made his weakened right hand next to useless.

"Leo arranged for me to telephone John Delaney." Sam's head whipped up at the name of the man who had rescued him from the roadside. "I'm going to invite him to visit the White House and I'll extend the invitation to his mother."

Sam swallowed hard and reached for his cup to distract attention away from his heart which he was certain everyone could see pumping, it was beating so fast.

"Toby thinks that smoking cigars in libraries should be added to the UN's declaration of human rights," Josh said, changing the subject. Sam took the opportunity to take a sip of his tea. It was too hot and the cup rattled on the saucer as he brought it back carefully to his lap.

"Depending on the section you're in," Toby added. "I'm not proposing that the junior library has a smoking area."

"They could have those clay pipes that blow bubbles," Josh suggested.

Another awkward silence descended in which the rattling of Sam's cup became even more obvious.

"Am I right that you're not coming back full time, Sam?"

"I'll be taking Thursday afternoons for physio and I'm going to work from home on Fridays." The cup was balanced on his leg and Sam knew he should use his right hand to steady it but the thought of everyone looking at it stopped him.

"That's good," Bartlet nodded and smiled at Sam. Sam looked away and down at his cup. It would have cooled down a little and his throat was very dry. He couldn't lift the cup with his left hand without risking the saucer falling off his lap. He realised he had no choice but to use his right hand to lift the cup. Maybe he could down the tea in one go and then put the stupid thing back on the table. He flexed his fingers and then lifted his hand and took hold of the cup carefully.

If his hand wasn't shaking it probably wouldn't have happened. If he hadn't caught CJ looking at it as he lifted the cup it probably would have been okay. Sam could feel himself losing control of his hand. He felt it shake and watched the tea slurp dangerously close to the edge. He tried to right it but instead of increasing his hold on the cup his hand weakened completely and the hot liquid flowed over Sam's hand and arm as the cup fell out of his grasp and rolled towards the President.