Rated R for violence

Series: Snapshots of the Past

Story: Endings and Beginnings

Chapter 9

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Previously: Abbey reached out to a guilt-ridden Jed

Summary: With Leo's encouragement, Jed becomes a leader for change; Jed is targeted

- - -

Change always begins with one person. And if that one person is filled with the intensity and furor of a concerned father, then the determination that takes root inside him is immeasurable. Jed Bartlet was that one person. Elizabeth's accident had launched him from his safety net of a professor to the public spotlight as an advocate for change.

Reporters wanted to know his thoughts. Producers wanted to set up in-studio interviews. And the publicity helped. It gave him a megaphone for his message and soon, all the national headlines that depicted the chaos in Boston now bore his name.

The city council meeting was quickly approaching. With a network of three universities, including Jed's, and nearly 20 professors willing to tutor the public school students, there was little doubt they would get their voices heard.

Would it stifle the protests that plagued the city? That remained to be seen.

It was no secret that Jed counted on the support of his best friend Leo McGarry. With his ESP fully tuned in to the close bond he shared with Jed, Leo showed up in Boston only days before the big meeting.

"So are you nervous?" he asked.

Jed shook his head. He never allowed his nerves to consume him. "Not at all."

"Why the hell not?" Leo teased. "You're staring down a monumental change in city policy, you're taking on the Mayor and the architect of the most controversial public school plan in local history, and you're not nervous? I'd be downing the scotch straight out of the bottle by now."

A lighthearted laugh chased away any lingering apprehension. "I thought you gave that up -- the drinking."

"I did, while Jenny was pregnant."

"What happened?"

"She gave birth." It was a painfully serious truth, but an unaware Jed simply chuckled. "You know what it's like. All the pressure, the stress, the questions. What if you make a mistake? What if you don't do this right or you don't do teach them something they need to know?"

"Yeah. But you know it's worth it, right? Fatherhood?"

"Well, yeah. I wouldn't trade a minute with Mallory for anything in the world. I just think she should have come with a how-to manual."

"Just a warning. It doesn't get any easier. I worry about Lizzie more now than I did when she was a baby."

"Yeah, but you have reason to. And you're doing something about it."

Jed acknowledged his words, but only reluctantly agreed. "I'm trying."

"So is this just the beginning?"

"Beginning of what?"

"Making changes. Come on, don't tell me you haven't thought about it. I got your letter about the schmuck in New Hampshire. What's his name?"

"Elliot Roush."

"Yeah. So take him on."

"In case you haven't noticed, I live in Massachusetts."

"Yeah, but you're a New Hampshire Bartlet. Didn't you say Abbey wanted to buy a house somewhere outside the city?"

"Not across the state line."

"How do you know?"

"Abbey likes Massachusetts. She grew up here. Besides, I've pushed my luck on that score one too many times."

With a nod, Leo conceded. "What's going on with that kid -- the one you refused to fail for organizing a protest?"

"I didn't fail him."

"Good." He wasn't really surprised. Jed was a man who valued freedom above all else.

"Don't get me wrong, I gave it a second-thought after Lizzie's accident. I was pissed at protesters everywhere. They're all over the place, Leo -- protesting the war, the politicians, the laws."

"We have problems in our society. That's why they protest."

"I know why they protest," he responded indignantly.

"So the Dean came down pretty hard on you?" Jed faced him with a quizzical stare. "Abbey told Jenny."

"Yeah, he came down on me."

"And you stood up to him. That's the Jed Bartlet I know. You stood up to him, you're standing up to the city of Boston. That's what you do."

"That's what I do," he repeated.

The prospect of public service had never invaded his thoughts so intimately as it had during that conversation. It wasn't the glamour of the limelight that intrigued him. It was the hope that he could make a difference. Leo was right. This is what he did. This is what he was good at doing.

He was nothing if not idealistic. That idealism pushed the bounds of reality at times, but he was grounded in the belief that people have enormous capacity and limitless boundaries when put to the test.

He was about to find out just how true that sentiment was.

The night of the city council meeting, Boston City Hall was inundated with hundreds of parents, students, and media. Station live trucks lined the curb outside. Cars overflowed the designated parking lot and drivers who were left without a space were forced to walk several blocks.

Jed left the university early to meet Leo before the session began. A few T stops away, protesters chanted as they boarded the train alongside him. Jed smiled ruefully, but with the exception of clutching his briefcase a little tighter, he didn't respond.

He had become a symbol for the university plan. Though he hadn't volunteered to take on the role of official spokesperson, it was common knowledge that his speaking ability was surpassed only by his intellect. The combination enticed reporters, inspired the school committee, and angered a group who rallied for the complete dismantling of the busing ordinance.

No one could argue the validity of the plan, but tensions still ran high. The prospect of minority children being taught at prestigious universities, especially in an integrated environment, was met with harsh criticism, reflective of the racism that ran rampant through Boston. Some people chose to demonstrate that night. Others chose a different way to make a statement.

At first, Jed didn't notice the eight feet that followed him off the train. He didn't hear the clicking at his heels. But when he turned the corner, he could no longer ignore the danger around him.

There were four of them, each dressed in loose pants that hung just beneath the hips. They wore T-shirts splattered with profanity, connected to their jackets with silver or gold chains. Two used baseball caps to cover their heads. One had a bandana. The other, nothing.

After a menacing waltz around the darkened alleyway, Jed's heart was racing. His palms were sweating. "You want to talk about something?" he asked when they blocked his path out of the lion's den.

"No talk. There's been too much talk," one of them answered.

"Fellas, I don't know what this is all about, but..."

"He doesn't know what this is about," another one scoffed. "Not quite the genius he pretends to be, is he?"

"It's about time you learn a lesson of your own, Professor. That's what this is all about."

Jed fell back with a punch to his jaw and before he could regain his balance, he was tackled by all four men. Fists flew back and forth, up and down. He was clearly outnumbered. He used his feet, his hands, his voice. Nothing stopped the attack. He was rendered completely helpless. Helpless and terrified.

Suddenly, one of the men held him by his arms and he braced himself for the onslaught of another strike. His eyes widened with terror as he saw the shiny blade of a pocket knife aimed at him. It glowed in the single spark of light that shone through the street. He approached Jed slowly, threateningly, enjoying every glimmer of fear visible in his eyes.

His personal space completely invaded, Jed held his breath in anticipation of the stinging pain he was sure would accompany a stab wound. But the man didn't stab him. He turned and walked away until he could hear an involuntary sigh of relief, then, with a swift turn, he plunged the knife forward and horizontally sliced Jed's abdomen.

His body slumped forward, all his weight now hanging down. He was dropped to the ground and kicked in the back as he lay bleeding on the pavement. The four men stood above him, not an ounce of remorse escaping their laughs as they watched him try desperately to crawl towards the corner, out in the open.

Still wielding the knife, the man crouched down to the ground and with one fluid movement, he slashed Jed's shoulder, impeding his progress and sucking out any drop of energy and motivation that remained.

They ran from the scene and as the pounding of their shoes faded in the distance, Jed struggled to remain alert. His voice was lost. The pain radiated from every inch of him. He bent his knees and slithered on his back for only a few feet before he was overcome with exhaustion. His eyes fluttered endlessly as his lips formed only one word.

"Abbey."

TBC