Chapter Twenty-five
Sam ignored Toby's presence at the window and waited for him to appear in his office as he knew he would.
"You don't need to finish those remarks today," Toby said from the doorway. Sam nodded without looking up. "You don't have to, because the President won't be back from his trip until late."
"Yeah" Sam stopped typing and looked up, "was there something else?"
"No, I'm just saying the President's out today." Toby walked into the room and straightened a file on Sam's desk. "So, if you wanted to see Leo about what you wrote yesterday you could go up to his office."
Sam rummaged through a pile of papers on his desk. "So he's out all day?"
"Yeah."
Sam nodded and headed for Leo's office.
Leo was expecting Sam and after telling him to sit down, left the office briefly to speak to Margaret. He acted as if Sam's presence in his office was nothing out of the ordinary. He read through Sam's notes, said, "Yeah, go with that," and dismissed Sam. It was only when he stepped out of Leo's office and saw Charlie in the doorway that he knew something wasn't right. Before the knowledge that where Charlie was the President was, kicked in, he saw the man that his friends had so successfully kept him from for so long. "Mr President," Sam said as he took the few steps from Margaret's office towards Charlie's desk.
The President tried to make it look like he had simply run into Sam on his way from the Oval Office but Sam knew he had been set up. He was relieved when he realised that the President had no intention of engaging him in conversation. He simply held out his hand, shook Sam's warmly and told him it was good to see him. Sam waited for the President to leave the office and go back to the Oval whilst he glared at Charlie for his part in the plot.
Just as he was about to enter his office, the President stopped. "Charlie, I'm going to work from the Residence today. Don't disturb me unless there's a war but if anyone should want to talk to me that's where I'll be."
Leo thought the charade would have played out by the time he entered the room but he arrived just in time to see a furious Sam storming away.
Toby had decided that a visit to the Mess might be a good idea but realised he was too late when his door slamming heralded the return of Sam.
"You set me up!"
"Calm down."
"Calm down! I was calm. I was perfectly calm until the President entered stage left, dead on cue."
Toby walked round his desk and towards Sam motioning to the sofa. Sam ignored him and remained standing by the door, hands on hips, staring at Toby in a mixture of anger and disbelief.
"I didn't set you up. I gave you a way in. It's time, Sam." Toby flinched at the sound of Sam's snort and kicked himself as he remembered what it was he hadn't done. He had forgotten the bit about being proud of him. He had planned to talk to Sam later that night but the sudden cancellation of the President's trip had presented too good an opportunity to miss. "Okay, I can see why you feel like that but however we got here, we're here, so let's make the most of it. Today is the day that you are going to get rid of all this…whatever the hell it is that's keeping you where you are because I don't care anymore if you're ready to move on or not. I'm ready to move on. I need you to be as well because we're a team." Toby swiped at his forehead and sat down wearily on the sofa. "We're Batman and Robin, Sam, and Batman wasn't much without the Boy Wonder."
Sam's hands left his hips. That was the first sign he was calming down. He stared at the floor and Toby heard a long sigh before his head finally lifted. "Okay. You'll be in your office when I'm done?"
"Yeah."
Sam straightened his tie and cleared his throat. Finally, the door opened and Charlie emerged with an encouraging smile and a nod. He held the door for Sam who stayed frozen for a moment before nodding in return and entering the room.
"Mr President," Sam said as he walked towards the sofa where the President sat.
As Sam approached, he stood and held out his left hand. "Sam."
The two men stood face to face, unsure what to do next. The awkward silence was ended by an equally awkward attempt by both men to end it. Sam asked Bartlet why the trip was cancelled at the same time as he asked Sam if he'd like a drink. Both questions remained unanswered but served to lighten the atmosphere and Bartlet gestured to the sofa. They sat in what Sam would later describe to Toby as a companionable uncomfortable silence. It was Bartlet who ended it.
"I didn't think you would come. I told Leo he was playing a dangerous game but I'm glad it worked."
"You know you could have just ordered me to come and see you."
"I could have but I wanted the choice to be yours ultimately even though you were really coerced into this. Maybe I wanted to feel as if you wanted to come." Bartlet stared at Sam whose expression was unreadable.
"Well, here I am." Sam shuffled back slightly and tried to relax.
"Here you are. Would you like something to drink, some coffee perhaps, tea?"
Sam shook his head, "I'm sorry if I've…" for the first time since entering the room, Sam looked at straight at the President. "I'm sorry if I've made things awkward, my working arrangements since I've been back, I'm sorry if they've-"
"I've missed your voice, Sam, in the Oval Office. I've missed your counsel. I hope you feel like you can return to your former role soon." Sam nodded in response and Bartlet knew that if he didn't change the course of the conversation, Sam would apologise again, leave and they would be nowhere further on than they were before. "Do you stay away because you blame me?" The question was direct and Bartlet was almost as surprised at asking it as Sam was at hearing it.
"No! God, no, I…do you think that's how I feel? Do you think that I still blame you for not getting me out of there?"
Bartlet shrugged. "I don't know what you think. I know that you were kidnapped and I was told that if I didn't do certain things you would be harmed. I know I didn't do those things and if I was you I think I'd be pretty pissed about that." Sam was giving him nothing so he continued. "I know that Charlie had to stop Josh from storming into the Oval three times and one of those times he was so drunk, two agents had to help him back to his office. I know that Leo was violently sick after every telephone call to Javier and I sat up all night with him more than once because if I hadn't he'd have passed the time with a bottle." Sam looked up at this and found that The President was pacing in front of him. "I know the fact that you are here with us has nothing to do with me and everything to do with your ingenuity and strength of character. I know I thank God for you every day, Sam, and curse my own weakness when I lived in fear of seeing Ron walking into my office to tell me that you were dead. I know all this, and yet I know nothing so I need to know- do you blame me?"
Sam stared at Bartlet for a few moments before turning away and staring at his clasped hands. "I don't blame you. I know you were bound to respond the way you did. I see that and I totally understand." Bartlet nodded and sat down.
Sam's mind was reeling with the images that the President had just described. He continued to stare at his hands until he felt composed. He studied the scar that ran along his forefinger where the skin had been split by Incul's gun. Finally he took a deep breath. "Do you remember when President Miguel told you that he was willing to let Juan Aguilar out of prison in exchange for five American hostages and I argued that you should do it?"
"Let's argue principles when these five guys get home."
"I'm sorry?" Sam turned and faced Bartlet.
"That's what you said when you were trying to persuade me to go for Miguel's offer. You said you understood the principle but there were real lives at stake."
"I did." Sam nodded. "I do, I understand the principle," he confirmed. "The thing is…what I don't understand…"
Bartlet waited, he didn't dare speak for fear of silencing him.
"I don't understand-" he stood and walked away from the sofa. "It's not that I don't understand it's that I can't deal with it, I think that's what I mean, I can't deal with the fact that you…" Sam rubbed at his face, sighed and turned back towards the sofa, "This sounds ludicrous but, they were going to kill me and you were going to let that happen and I can't deal with that."
Bartlet had expected Sam to say something like this. He knew for certain that Sam wouldn't be arguing against his stance on non-negotiation and so had tried to prepare himself for whatever Sam would say. He tried to prepare himself but hearing Sam ask him why he had let this happen to him made Bartlet feel the same sense of helplessness and despair that he had felt every day that Sam was missing.
"That doesn't sound ludicrous, Sam. It makes perfect sense to me."
"Yeah, because it doesn't to me! It's like I've got this internal dialogue going on all the time and one voice is political reason and the other is plain, naked fear and a sense of abandonment that I can't even begin to explain."
Bartlet stood, walked past Sam and poured two generous measures of Bourbon before returning to the sofa. "You explained the census to CJ, I'm pretty confident you can explain your 'dialogue' to me."
A ghost of a smile flashed across Sam's face. He took the offered glass and walked over to the fireplace. "I can rationalise what happened, I know that if it had been CJ or Josh or Toby you'd have responded exactly the same way."
"Sam, if it had been Zoe or Abby I'd have responded the same way."
"I know, I know that but I can't always tell myself that. I can't always be rationale about it because the memories of what they did aren't rationale, they're jumbled and disturbing and they don't…well let's just say they're not conducive to rationale thought processes." Sam turned away from the fireplace and walked back towards the President. "That's why I didn't want to see you or go anywhere near the office because no matter how much I understood your reasons, I knew that the irrational thoughts would win out and I'd end up losing it." Sam took a long sip of his drink, "As clearly demonstrated by the flying china cup debacle."
"I wasn't too keen on having you in the Oval after that, myself, I've only got five of those left you know."
Sam smiled again and visibly relaxed. He sat down next to Bartlet, any notions of correct protocol when it came to standing and sitting, long since abandoned.
"I just find it…" Sam took a deep breath and sank back against the cushions. "I find it so hard to get back to what it was like before."
"That's a bit of a tall order don't you think? You've been through a horrific experience physically and mentally. I'm not sure things will go back to what they were."
"Yeah, I don't think they will either but I keep trying to make them because I really don't like where I am at the moment."
Bartlet leant forward, no longer worried about silencing Sam, "And where is that, Sam?"
"Confused mostly, scared constantly, doubting everything."
"Did you come back to work too soon? Would some time away help?"
"I don't think so. I like to be here, circumnavigating the Oval Office." Sam smiled sheepishly. "Maybe I've been trying too hard to get back to normal when what I should have been doing is working on how to cope with moving on? It helped to hear what it was like for you all. Nobody will tell me what they went through, but I need to know because then I don't picture you all sitting round drinking coffee casually deciding not to cancel the Colombian Dinner."
"You don't think that do you!"
"No, that's my irrational internal dialogue, you got that right, with the rational and irrational internal dialogue thing?"
"Yeah, Sam, I got that." Bartlet smiled, shook his head and took Sam's empty glass to be refilled.
They sat in silence for a while but this time it was a comfortable silence. After a while, Sam talked a little more about his feelings and Bartlet listened. By the time the glasses were being filled for a third time, Sam had agreed to a month's paid leave, arrangements to speak to a psychiatrist friend of Abbey's and to come back to his normal role when he did return to work. By the time the First Lady returned from a private function, Sam was telling Bartlet that at the Great Falls in Montana more Golden Eagles had been seen in a single day than anywhere else in the country and he was replying with the fact that Montana has the largest migratory elk herd in the nation.
"Is this a private geek party or can anyone join in?" Abby asked as she threw her wrap onto a chair and walked over to the two men. She had known of the plan to get Sam and her husband together and was secretly relieved to find Sam sitting in the living room. She kissed Bartlet and then Sam. "Show me your hand," she instructed, suddenly in doctor mode. She studied Sam's fingers carefully and patted his hand before letting go. "They did a good job."
"They did," Sam agreed, pleased with himself at the thought that a couple of weeks ago he would have broken out in a cold sweat if anyone looked that closely at his damaged hand. She kissed her husband again, said goodnight and left them to it.
"Montana has the largest grizzly bear population in the lower 48 states," Sam said as he took a slow sip of his drink.
"Yeah, but I'm not going to let you have that one."
"Why not? It's trivia, it's about Montana!"
"It's grizzly bear trivia more than Montana trivia," Bartlet explained.
"Well in that case I'm taking the migratory elk one off your score then because they were just passing through."
Bartlet frowned. "The bitterroot is the official state flower."
"Montana's name comes from the Spanish word, mountain."
Abbey listened for a while to the two voices. Smiling at the fact that they truly were having a geek party, smiling at the fact they were talking at all.