Manchester, New Hampshire November, 2003
It had been nearly a month since Mark Schaefer's death, but the time had passed slowly for Ellie Bartlet, excrutiatingly so. Every waking moment was spent both warding off and welcoming thoughts of the fiancé she had lost in that bridge's tragic collapse in Baltimore. His face haunted her, and she was plagued with images of his body crushing under the debris and sinking deep beneath the surface.
Since moving back home to Manchester, Ellie found herself consumed with increasingly morbid thoughts, often centered around the pool of losses her life had become in the last year. Beginning with her sister's kidnapping in May, things had moved from bad to worse with her mother's numerous scandals and her father's subsequent emotional trauma, and culminated in the recent death of her beloved grandfather and finally, Mark. Mark, who had been the only thing keeping her sane, which wasn't surprising, as he was a newly licensed psychiatrist. Mark, who had been the only reason she had been able to function properly and cope with the eccentricities, good and bad, of her family.
Just as peace had been restored (save for a few exceptions) for the Bartlets, Mark had left her, as if he had been certain that she no longer needed him. But she did. She needed him to love her. While she knew it was selfish and petty, she was afraid she would never find anyone else to love her, not like Mark had. That was something, she decided, that she was not likely to experience, in all its glory, again. Not only was it a deep sense of mourning and loss that she felt, but also a mind-numbing, paralyzing fear that she could not shake despite her best, however wasted, efforts to do so.
Washington, D.C.
"Shut it down?" Millicent Griffith asked in disbelief. "Shut it down. Shut it down! What the…"
"Wasn't my decision," Leo replied as he shuffled around the numerous documents on his desk in search of one in particular.
"I don't understand. What does this mean?"
"It means that, by midnight, all non-essential government employees are temporarily jobless," he explained.
Millie placed her hands stubbornly on her hips and stared at him, her eyes conveying more confusion than she had intended to show.
"Temporarily?"
"Let's hope."
"Why three percent? What the hell crawled up Haffley's ass?" Millie demanded.
"I don't know. Something about a gravy train and a crying economy."
"Well, the economy isn't gonna be the only thing crying come midnight."
"You're preaching to the choir, Millie," Leo answered. "I'm not too fond of this state of affairs myself."
"What's your read on the situation?"
Leo shook his head desolately.
"Haffley's not gonna budge."
"There's no way?" Millie questioned.
"Not unless someone lights a fire under his ass."
"Well, then, why doesn't someone just light a fire under his gravy-loving, tear-shedding waffle ass?"
Leo raised an amused eyebrow.
"Waffle ass?"
"Okay, you're missing the point."
"Tell it to the President," Leo said.
"Speaking of the President…"
"Busy with his fighting Irish."
"He's watching a basketball game!" Millie exclaimed.
"Doubt he's enjoying it, but yeah."
"940,000 people are about to suddenly be unemployed and he's parked in front of the TV?"
"So it would appear. Look, I don't have time to get into our thing right now."
"It's not important."
"I didn't say that," Leo insisted.
"No, I did."
"Millie…"
"It's not a big deal. We can talk about it whenever. Go do what you need to do," Millie said, softly.
"Thank you."
She nodded in response. Leo grants her a half-smile and turns to exit his office.
"Leo!"
He stops in the doorway and whips around, looking at her quizzically.
"You know what you need to do, don't you?"
Her gaze holds his for a lingering moment, until he averts his eyes and nods, hesitantly.
"Yeah," Leo responded, abruptly. "I got it."
Manchester, New Hampshire
Abbey slowly pushed the door open and popped her head into the silent, dimly lit room.
"Ellie?"
Ellie opened her eyes, but barely lifted her head from the pillow.
"Can I come in?"
"Sure," Ellie responded, mildly, closing her eyes once more.
Abbey crossed the room and positioned herself on the edge of Ellie's bed.
"Sweetheart, why don't you come downstairs for a little while? Maybe sit out on the porch. It'll do you good."
Ellie shook her head.
"You haven't left your room in days."
"So?" Ellie mumbled.
"Come on, honey," Abbey pleaded, pushing her blonde curls out of her eyes.
"Just come downstairs for a little while."
"What, so I can hang out with Nobility Man?"
"You can hang out with Zoey."
"You mean Zoey and Nobility Boy," Ellie retorted.
"Ellie," Abbey said, sternly. "You don't have to be Tony's biggest fan, but you've got no reason to dislike Oliver. He's been nothing but nice to you."
"Yeah, but he's the spawn of the devil. And he's taking my little sister down with him."
"I see all this time you've been holding yourself hostage has done nothing to impede your cynicism."
"How 'bout that."
"Whatever happened to my sweet little Ellie?" Abbey asked, wistfully.
"Her fiancé died."
Abbey smiled sadly at her middle daughter, then crawled over her and joined her under the covers.
"It's gonna be okay, you know."
"When?"
"I don't know," she answered, honestly. "But I do know that the more time you spend locked in a room without sunlight, the longer it'll take."
"Yeah," Ellie replied, quietly. "It's just…strange. I'm a doctor. I'm no stranger to death. But it's an entirely different thing when it happens someone so close to you."
"I know, sweetie," Abbey said. "Believe me, I know. No matter how many patients you lose or how many families you watch grieve, nothing prepares you for the death of a loved one."
"I've been thinking a lot about Dad."
"What about him?"
"…You know."
"I don't…oh. I see."
Ellie noticed all the color draining from her mother's face.
"Do you guys…uh, does he have a plan?" Ellie questioned.
"I…well, he did. I don't know if his position has changed."
"You know what I don't understand?" Ellie asked.
"What?"
"For weeks you've been comforting me and supporting me, but…it seems kind of hypocritical in a way. You have a husband. He's real and he's alive and he loves you. What the hell are you doing here?"
Abbey sighed.
"Mom, hasn't this opened your eyes at all?"
"My eyes are open, Ellie. They're just not looking in the right direction just yet."
Though Ellie's narrowed eyes and slightly parted lips indicated that she was intent on responding to her mother's metaphoric statement, the ever-irritating sound of the phone ringing kept her from doing so. She leaned over to her nightstand and reluctantly lifted the phone from its charger.
"Hello? Oh, hi. I'm okay, thanks. How are you? Good. I appreciate that. Yes. Yeah, she's right here. One second."
Ellie covered the earpiece with her hand and held it out to her mother.
"Who is it?" Abbey questioned.
"It's Leo."
