After an hour in Abbey's hospital room, Jed finally emerged. He walked slowly, head bowed, through the halls until he reached the private waiting room. Zoey and Oliver immediately sprung from their chairs and scurried over to him urgently. However, his gaze fell between them and locked upon a lone figure in the corner, who hadn't bothered to stand up. Jed stepped between Zoey and Oliver, and approached Sir Anthony Prescott, who immediately stood.
"Mr. President," Tony stuttered, partly of our apprehension, partly out of embarassment.
Jed studied him carefully, from his facial expression all the way down to his designer shoes.
"Tony."
"Sir, I…"
"I'm not angry at you, Tony," Jed stated, calmly.
"You're not…"
"No. My wife is a grown woman and is perfectly capable of making her own decisions. Unfortunately, you were her victim. In a way, I feel bad for you. Something tells me you really care for her. The thing is, I do too. And I outrank you. You know what that mean?"
"No…no, sir."
"It means I win, Tony."
"Sir?"
"You don't have to know what that means now, but you will. In the meantime, I need you to do me a favor," Jed said.
"Yes, sir."
"Actually, it's more like a command."
"A command?"
"That's right, Tony. If you tell my wife that I was here today, through my close personal relationship with the Queen and the Prime Minister, I will have you demoted and shipped off to Romania. You will breathe not one word of this to her. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir, Mr. President."
"Do I have your word on that?"
"Absolutely."
"Thank you. And now comes the favor."
"What's that, sir?" Tony asked.
"Try and persuade Abbey to get some help," Jed said, somberly. "A psychiatrist. Someone. I don't care. She needs to…"
"I know. And I'll do my best."
"But don't push her. If you push her, she'll say no. She hates that."
"Yes, sir. I know."
"Good. Not a word, Tony."
"Yes, sir. She'll never know you were here," Tony replied.
"Now if only you weren't here, things would be perfect."
Baltimore, Maryland
"Ellie! El, are you all right?" Mark called, as he let himself into her apartment using his key.
Ellie Bartlet was lying still on her bed, her eyes fixated on the stucco ceiling. She had already chewed her fingernails down as far as she could, and had moved on picking at a few scabs and biting her lower lip involuntarily.
"I came as soon as I heard. I saw it on the news. Why didn't you call me?"
Mark sat on the edge of the head, and gently pulled her right hand away from the scab on her left arm.
"Why didn't you call me?" He repeated.
"I haven't called anyone. Liz has been leaving me messages all day," Ellie said.
"You should talk to her. It'll do you good."
"Thanks, Doctor."
"I am a licensed psychologist, you know," Mark said.
"Yeah, yeah."
"She's going to be okay, Ellie."
"I know. But we're not."
"What?"
"My mother and I. Our relationship. I'll never be able to see her the same way again."
"What way is that?" Mark asked.
"I don't know, really."
"She's flawed, El. You have to accept that. She's not the perfect human being you idealized her into."
"I don't think that about her," Ellie replied, defensively.
"Sure, not anymore. But you did."
Ellie nodded, pensively, allowing his words to sink in.
"Mark."
"Yes, dear?" Mark replied, a twinkle in his eye.
"I want you to do something for me."
"Anything you ask, kiddo."
"First, don't call me kiddo."
"Duly noted."
"Second, I want you to find me a good psychologist," Ellie stated, monotonously.
"Are you serious?"
"The best you know. This isn't gonna go away by itself."
London, England
He kept trying to tell himself that he had done the right thing. Leaving her had been for the best. He hated to do it. He hated walking away from her, the distance between them growing with every step he took. Zoey said he was wrong to do it, but she didn't understand. She just wanted to see her parents together again. Ellie and Elizabeth would undoubtedly have the same reaction. He needed to talk to someone who would be objective (in other words, tell him he was right).
Jed walked through the hotel in search of that person, with his agents trailing close behind him. He stopped at the room nearets to his own, and asked his agents to wait outside. Without knocking, he carged through the door into the room.
"Leo!"
His attention was immediately drawn to the seated figure of his best friend, and the figure of the United States Surgeon General, leaning over his frame, her arms draped over his shoulders suggestively. Their heads snapped to the side, taking in the sight of their Commander-in-Chief with astonishment.
"Mr. President," Leo said, standing up.
"Sorry to…disturb you," Jed replied, clearing his throat awkwardly.
"Oh, you're not, sir," Millie said, quickly. "We were just…just…uh…"
"Discussing…" Leo added.
"A thing."
"Yes! Discussing a thing."
"The thing actually."
"So…not just any thing," Jed said, with amusement.
"No, sir," Millie replied. "The ultimate thing."
"The thing to end all things," Leo agreed.
"I see. Important business then."
"Absolutely, Mr. President," Millie said.
"Guys, you wanna tell me what's going on?" Jed asked.
Leo and Millie exchanged nervous, perplexed glances.
"I'm sorry. We should have told you before, sir," Leo stated.
"No, we shouldn't have. It's our business," Millie hissed at him.
"He's the President, Millie," Leo answered, quietly, through clenched teeth.
"So? Did Ben and J.Lo consult the President about their affair before they told anyone else?"
"First of all, I don't ever want to hear you say J.Lo again. Second of all…"
"Guys," Jed said. "Enough already."
"Sorry, sir."
"So. Are you two just enjoying each other's company from time to time, playing Scrabble and drinking hot chocolate, or are you sleeping together?"
"Uh…"
"I take it you're sleeping together then."
"Among other things, sir," Millie replied.
"Do these other things include playing Scrabble and drinking hot chocolate?
"Well…"
"Cause if so, I want to join."
"Due respect, sir, but nobody wants to play words games with you," Millie said.
"Touche, Dr. Griffith. How long has this been going on?"
"Not long," Leo responded.
"How long is not long?"
"A few weeks maybe."
"Leo, I thought you disliked Millie for cheating on Scott," Jed said.
"No, sir."
"Millie, I thought you disliked Leo for neglected Jenny."
"No, sir."
"Hmm. I find this very suspicious. However, I suppose it's not in my executive power to put a stop to this relationship. That being said…Leo, are your intentions honorable?"
"Uh…yes, sir."
"Will you neglect Millie as you did Jenny?" Jed questioned.
"Hopefully not."
"Millie, will you cheat on Leo as you did Scott?"
"Hopefully not."
"Good enough. I hereby deem this relationship acceptable and legitimate."
"We appreciate that, Mr. President," Millie said.
"Don't you mock me, Millicent."
"Sir, what is it you came in here for?"
"Just to tell you I'm back from the hospital. You can go now if you want to."
"Well…how'd it go?" Leo asked.
"She's still unconscious. I did speak to her British boy toy though."
"Oh, God."
"And I was perfectly civil to him, I'll have you know."
"How badly did you hurt him?" Leo deadpanned.
At 3:04 A.M. the next morning, Abbey Bartlet opened her eyes for the first time in well over twenty-four hours. At 3:31 A.M., her room was filled with people. At 3:47, she was left alone with Sir Anthony Prescott, with the door tightly closed. At 4:11, the nurses ordered everyone to go home. Dr. Bartlet needed her rest.
At 4:27, she fell asleep. At 6:02, her eyes fluttered open yet again; she was restless. At 7:01, she reached for the phone. It was too far away At 9:19, Zoey crept into the room, and was surprised to find her mother awake.
"Hi," she whispered.
"Hi, sweetheart."
She moved to sit in the chair beside Abbey's bed, and found herself strangely nervous around her mother.
"You're up."
"I'm up."
Abbey smiled reassuringly.
"I feel weird about this, but can I…talk to you about something?"
"Of course you can."
"Did Tony talk to you about getting help?" Zoey asked, softly.
Abbey nodded.
"Yes."
"Have you thought about it?"
"I don't know, hon. Therapy…you know. I'm a doctor. It's…"
"Mom, you're a medical doctor. You can't help yourself in a situation like this."
"You want me to do this?" Abbey asked.
"Yes, Mom. I do," Zoey replied, firmly.
Abbey sighed, relenting.
"All right."
"Really? You'll do it?"
"Only because you asked me to."
"Thank you."
"If I ever get out of this place, that's the second thing I'll do," Abbey said.
"What's the first?"
"Pour myself a shot of whiskey."
"Mom!" Zoey exclaimed.
"Kidding! I'm kidding!"
"Not funny."
"It was, actually."
Zoey rolled her eyes.
"I'm gonna be the one needing therapy after all this is over."
THE END.