Leo had been in the waiting room for nearly an hour when he heard a familiar voice at the other end of the room. He lifted his head in time to see his ex-wife bolting through the door, and stood automatically, waiting as she quickly headed his way.
"Leo!" The panic in her voice tore at Leo's heart. He moved to meet her as she grabbed him in a tight embrace. "Leo, how is she?"
"They took her to surgery about and hour and a half ago," he whispered. "But I was able to talk to her before she went up."
"They wouldn't tell me what happened over the phone," she said, her voice quivering. "They wouldn't tell me anything," she cried into his shoulder.
"I'm so sorry, Jenny" he comforted. "I tried to call you myself, but with the building in lock-down, I guess I got caught up in trying to get here." Leo held his ex-wife at arm's length and gently brushed the tears out of her eyes. "Come on, let's sit down," he suggested.
"Just tell me what happened, Leo," she pleaded.
Leo stared into the eyes of the woman who had shared his life for nearly thirty-five years. He slowly drew his hand down her cheek, carefully tracing the curve of her delicate jaw with the back of his hand. Swallowing hard, he soon found himself unable to hold her gaze. Leo closed his eyes as his mind retreated to another time, another place, when she was the one lying in a hospital bed. 'Just tell me what happened, Leo . . .' The pain of that moment, a moment forever frozen in time, carefully locked away all these many years threatened to overwhelm him. Suddenly, it was all right there, fresh in his mind . . . the terrified look on her face as he told her of the accident, the desperate cry of sheer anguish as she realized it had taken the life of their unborn son, the horrifying realization that the trauma to her body had forced doctors to perform a hysterectomy to save her life, knowing that the only child they would ever create together was lying in the next bed, unconscious, fighting for her life.
Jenny watched as Leo's face contorted, trying to read his mind, wondering why his hand had started shaking, why the familiar, gentle caress suddenly felt so ominous. "Leo?" she whispered.
He slowly opened his eyes, trying to regain his composure. "Jenny, I'm sorry," he began, his voice thick with emotion, his hand dropping to his side a bit too quickly. "I was just . . . Mallory was . . . " Leo stopped and stared straight into Jenny's eyes. "She was at Clearlake . . . a man walked in, pulled a gun and shot her and Jonathan."
Jenny looked at him, searching his face for answers. Slowly, the fear she felt turned to anger. "Why? Why would someone shoot Mallory? She doesn't have any enemies!"
"Yeah, but I do," Leo quietly admitted.
"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.
He glanced away not wanting to face her. "Mallory was shot because of me. The shooter was trying to get to me through her."
"I don't understand, Leo."
His eyes returned to Jenny's face. "We don't exactly who the guy is yet, we got a name," he paused, "but he told Mallory to tell me he was coming after me."
Slowly, Jenny realized what Leo was implying. "So now you're responsible for getting your daughter shot?" she surmised. "It wasn't enough to sacrifice your marriage for this administration, you had to throw your daughter's life in for good measure?" The smoldering anger in Jenny's voice was something he hadn't heard in a very long time. Before he knew what had happened, there was a familiar sting on his face: Jenny had slapped her ex-husband. He stood staring at the floor, unable to look her in the eyes. "You've always been so good at serving your country, Leo. Too bad you didn't spend as much time, or put in the same effort in with your family."
Leo never looked up. He couldn't argue with her because he knew she was right. He wanted so much to tell her he was sorry, sorry for everything, but couldn't bring himself to open his mouth. All he could do was stand there and take what she was giving him.
"Well? Aren't you going to make up some excuse, some reason that this isn't your fault?" she added sarcastically.
Slowly, he lifted his head. As a single tear rolled down his cheek, he simply shook his head.
The haunted look in Leo's eyes made Jenny realize that she'd gone too far. But she was angry, and didn't really care who knew it. As she pulled back, she heard a voice, "Jenny, please don't do this to him."
She turned to find Jed and Abbey Bartlet standing in the doorway, "Mr. President, with all due respect, you of all people need to stay out of this."
"I know you're angry, Jenny, but this is not Leo's fault," he challenged as he and Abbey moved toward their friends.
"Sir, please," Leo pleaded with all the sadness of the world in his eyes. "Just leave it."
"Leo, I love Jenny very much, you know that. But she can't possibly believe you meant for this to happen, or that you could have done anything to prevent it."
"It doesn't matter anymore. Really. Please, leave it," he begged. "Please."
The pain and despair in his friend's voice nearly broke Jed's heart. He was about to tell both of them why that response was wrong on so many levels, when they were interrupted by a doctor coming through the door. "Mr. McGarry, I'm Lieutenant Commander Hall."
"Doctor. This is Mallory's mother, Jenny," he said, wiping the tear from his eye.
"Ma'am," he nodded. "I thought you would like to know that your daughter is doing as well as can be expected. A real fighter. She's going to be in there a while though, so if you want to go home, or you need to go back to your office, we will keep you informed."
"We'll stay, thanks," the President offered as Jenny and Leo nodded in agreement.
"Can you give us any details, Doctor?" questioned Abbey.
"Yes, Ma'am. She was shot twice, once in the left leg, once in the right shoulder. The leg wound is mostly muscle damage, no bone, no major blood vessels were involved. Therapy should be all she'll need to do."
"And the shoulder wound?" Abbey asked.
"That's a little more complicated, Ma'am. The x-rays were inconclusive as to the extent of injury. She did suffer a collapsed lung which was partially re-inflated in the ER. The doctors are fairly confident, however, that none of the bullet or bone fragments were near her heart. The damage appears to be confined to the shoulder. They'll perform a CAT scan before they close, if they feel it's necessary."
"You said bone fragments?"
"Yes, Ma'am, the bullet hit her shoulder blade. It may have saved her life," he added. The room grew quiet, and the doctor took that as his cue. "I need to get back to the OR. I'll send someone in every hour to update you, or whenever we have news."
"Thank you, Commander," Leo said.
"Yes, Sir." He turned and walked out the door.
For a long time, no one spoke. Jenny slowly wandered to a chair and sat down, the President and First Lady followed. But Leo never budged, his gaze returned to the floor. Two, then three hours came and went, with each update pretty much the same as the last . . . holding her own . . . don't know when she'll be out . . . prognosis hopeful, but guarded for the moment. Finally, forcing himself to move, Leo started toward the door.
"Where are you going?" the President asked.
"I need some air . . ."
