Title: The Immediate Context of History
Author: Marcia Plome
Fandom: The West Wing
Characters: Jed/Leo, Jed/Abbey
Rating: M for language, allusions to a m/m relationship, and violent references
Disclaimer: The West Wing, its characters and storylines are the sole property of Aaron Sorkin, John Wells Productions, Warner Bros. and NBC Television. What follows is for entertainment purposes only and no copyright infringement is intended.
Spoilers: Major for events seen in flashback during "An Khe"
Summary: Pre-administration, Jed rushes to Leo's side as he recovers from injuries resulting from being shot down and the aftermath.
Warnings: Angst, very major angst. Slash, but well within an M rating.
Archive: Absolutely, just let me know.

Jed knew what Dr. Hester hadn't exactly said, that it could be a lot sooner if Leo didn't make it. He tried not to dwell on that as he found a couch in the waiting area and collapsed onto it. He took a moment to gather his thoughts. What do you do while you're waiting for the doctors to tell you if your best friend is going to live or die? Too strung out to offer coherent prayers, and reluctant to offer up his panic-laced stream of consciousness, he got up and paced a little. He was exhausted, and pacing wasn't helping. Finally he found the floor nurse and told her he had to make a phone call.

"'Lo?" Abbey's voice told him he'd woken her up.

"Shit, babe, I'm sorry, I completely forgot about the time difference," he apologized.

"It's all right. I'm on call tonight anyway, thought it was work. How are you?" she asked.

"Not good," he answered, and then paused, unsure of how to put the last few days into words, and not quite knowing what he expected her to be able to do anyway.

"My God, Jed. Is he…" she didn't finish the question.

"No," he hastily reassured her. "No, but it doesn't look good. They've got him in surgery now." He recounted the events of the day, his fights not to let them amputate, the image of Leo packed in ice like a haddock at the fishmonger's, Dr. Hester's return in full uniform to vindicate his adamant refusal to let Bauer cut, the dire warnings not to get his hopes up.

She listened sympathetically, making comforting noises, but just letting him tell it. He marveled at her ability to understand what he needed. No one else could give him the perspective of someone who loved them both, and yet understood the medical realities. When he'd finished, she gave him the absolution that he'd subconsciously sought. "I think you've done exactly what he would want."

Jed hoped so, that goal had underpinned every decision he'd made, but it was so good to hear someone else say it. "Do you think I should call Josie?"

"To tell her what?" she responded.

Jed hesitated, "I don't know. Tell them how bad things are, I guess."

"You told them things were bad when you called before. I don't think you're going to help matters by calling them now. You'll just have them sitting by the phone waiting for news. Call when you know something. A couple more hours isn't going to change anything for them, and by then you'll have something definitive to tell them about Leo," she suggested.

Whether or not she was right, he didn't trust himself to be able to give Josie and Beth this kind of news. Leo protected them, insulated them from this sort of thing, and Jed just didn't know how to do that, exactly. Abbey's rationale for waiting was good enough for him. He needed to get back to the waiting area, and while he ached for Abbey's touch and to be in bed with her waking from this nightmare, there wasn't much else she could do. "Abbey, pray for him? Please?" he begged.

"Incessantly, love," she responded. "Call me when you know, okay?"

"I will. I love you. Kiss Lizzie," he said.

"I love you too. Both of you," she answered. "Bye Jed."

"Bye." He waited until he heard the click as she hung up before returning the handset to its cradle.

He got back to the couch in the waiting area and slumped back against it. Dr. Hester hadn't come looking for him, and that was a good thing, at least for now. Jed knew there was a window of long enough without being too long, but he didn't even think they'd gotten there yet. He pulled his rosary out of his pocket, and devoted himself to working through all fifteen decades, this time in Latin.

He finally finished, still undisturbed. His time sense had abandoned him, and he sat there, wondering how long it had been since they'd taken Leo into surgery. He got up and made a circuit of the waiting area. No news was still good news, he supposed, but the waiting was getting harder. He settled back onto the couch, staring ahead of him and letting his eyes unfocus. He was too tired to think, he'd said everything there was to say, and there was nothing left to do but wait. He did so in a mental place that demanded nothing from him but existence and considered the space between the seconds.

He hadn't budged when Dr. Hester found him. He'd pulled his surgical mask down, but it still dangled around his neck. His light blue scrubs had the Air Force emblem on the chest pocket and blood splattered over much of the shirt. Leo's blood, Jed amended to himself. Hester's posture was guarded, not that of a man bearing happy news. Jed couldn't bring himself to ask the question.

Hester didn't make him. "Come with me. He's holding on, but I don't think it's going to be much longer."

Amazing how the heart could soar and plummet in the span of just one phrase. "What happened?" Jed asked.

"I lost him on the table," Hester answered. "Twice. There was just so much waste in the peritoneum. I've never seen something like that in a kid that wasn't already dead. I think it must have ruptured some time yesterday, and for him to have hung on like he did, I can't imagine his pain threshold… He's a trooper." Hester pressed his hands against the bones above his eyes, "He went into septic shock on the table, and all the fluids we were running through him were just running back out. I finally found the rupture, but repairing it was another issue. I ultimately got it done, but by then, he'd been under for so long, and we'd had to shock him back twice." He scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed before saying the rest. "He was down for a long time. His fever has plateaued, but his blood pressure is so low I don't think he's going to wake up. We normally don't let family members into post-op, but I think you need a chance to say goodbye." Seeing Jed stumble and stop, Hester took him by the elbow and held him in place. "Oh, son, I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have told you all of that, it's just that he seems like such a special kid, and I really thought we had a chance going in. I did everything I could, but he was just too far gone."

Jed nodded, finding his voice to comfort the man who'd made these last days bearable, and who'd made a superhuman last effort, "I know you did."

They arrived in the post-op ward, Leo in the only occupied bed. Blood hung from one IV, another bottle of clear fluid from the other. New bandages swathed his torso and his leg. The tube was gone though, and he was breathing for himself, if slower and shallower than he had been before surgery. He started to take the steps towards Leo's bedside, but Dr. Hester stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Jed. I know you want to hold on to him, but don't prolong this for him. You can stay here for however long it takes, but if he needs you to tell him it's okay, don't refuse him that. Keeping him here like this, well, I can't imagine he'd want that."

Jed knew what he was being told, and he knew Dr. Hester was right. He'd be able to be with Leo right up to the end though, and that was something. He blinked hard, trying not to let the tears start until they were alone. "He wouldn't, and I won't."

Hester just nodded. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

There was something that remained to be done, and Jed hadn't let himself go there before now, because it would have felt too much like giving up. It was time now though, and further delay would just be wrong. "Find me a priest."

Hester bowed his head, realizing what it was Jed was asking, and then turned without a word to see to it.

Jed sat by Leo's bed and waited for the priest. He stroked his cheek, in what was just shy of an overt caress. He was beyond caring about decorum, and besides, no priest, not even a military chaplain, would ever judge him harshly for compassion at the bedside of a dying friend. "Not yet, Leo. Just a little longer now."

Leo woke next to feel a gentle, comforting hand on his forehead move to softly brush his eyes. This was so drastically different from the pain he'd come to expect with consciousness that it took him a moment to even process it. There was talking too, but it was too quiet, or too far away for him to be able to make out. They were touching his ears, why his ears? Leo realized with a shock as each hand was carefully touched that someone was performing the Last Rites on him. Things were bad then, well, Leo admitted to himself, that wasn't exactly news. If he were being honest with himself, he'd really thought it was over the last time he'd been awake. He was surprised they'd bothered to bring him a priest, he didn't think the NVA did that. Maybe they'd captured a chaplain at some point? He supposed that was possible. He wasn't Catholic enough anymore to fear dying unshriven, but he knew this would have mattered immensely to Jed. Wherever he was, that was his biggest regret, that he hadn't had a chance to say goodbye, and that Jed wouldn't know what had happened. This sacrament was for Jed then, Leo decided, as the priest anointed his feet, one last rite of friendship for a man he'd loved like no one else.

Having finished anointing Leo, the priest turned to Jed. "Will you make his responses in the Eucharist?"

Jed nodded and watched silently as the priest quickly removed the necessary items from his case. He made the responses from long memory, his words just a murmur. Though he knew it was occasionally done, he was still surprised to see the priest touch the Host to Leo's lips before placing it on Jed's tongue. Then dripping a small amount of the Blood onto his thumb, the priest ran it lightly over Leo's lips, ensuring that he had, at least in form, received both elements of the Eucharist. They said a concluding prayer, and the Last Rites were over.

Jed felt the awful sense of finality that he'd done everything he could do. There was nothing left but to say goodbye and to tell Leo how much he loved him.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" the priest asked.

Jed shook his head no, "Thank you, but I think I just want to be alone with him now."

"I understand. The doctors said it probably wouldn't be long, call me if you need someone when it's over," the priest offered, reaching his hand out in parting.

Jed held the handshake an instant longer than he usually would have, taking what comfort he could from the priest's last kindness. With post-op empty tonight, Jed had the privacy he needed, but he didn't know where to start. How do you say goodbye like this? How do you tell someone you'd lay down your own life if it meant saving theirs? That no one else could ever take this place in your life? There was still part of him that wanted to beg his friend to hold on, to fight just a little bit longer. Jed wasn't ready to let him go, couldn't bring himself to accept that there wasn't any more hope.

Leo was aware of a thin string pulling him back to consciousness. He was beyond any understanding of time or place now, just floating in a dark well of pain and hopelessness. He wasn't sure how the transition between life and death worked, but he knew he was somewhere between one and the other. He was ready to go on, ready for this whole nightmare existence to be over. There was nothing left for him to do now, nothing left for them to ask him, nothing left for them to hurt. He just needed to let go, to be released from all of this and find out what came next. Everything that mattered was over now, and he saw a light in the darkness. It felt warm and safe and that was all he wanted anymore, that light meant home, and every fiber of his being wanted that.

Leo's mouth moved and Jed leaned close and strained to hear. He worked at it for a moment, and all Jed could hear was his wet, shallow breathing, but finally he got out, "Please, just let me go home," just loud enough for Jed to make out.

He took Leo's hand, no longer caring about the IV, and gave in to the tears he'd fought since the priest had left. Dr. Hester had told him that Leo might need permission to let go, and Jed had withheld that permission, unable to differentiate being the line that kept him tethered to this mortal life from being the anchor that kept him from sailing on to the life hereafter. But Leo had asked him now, and Jed knew he couldn't stand in his way any longer. There wasn't anything else left to say, and he owed Leo the last choice. Making no effort to stop his tears from falling on Leo's face and hands, Jed gave his leave. "I love you, and if I live to be one hundred, that'll never diminish, but if it's too much now old friend, then go be with Him. He's saving you a place at His side."

Jed thought he felt the slightest of squeezes before Leo's hand went slack in his grip. Jed sat there, watching him, expecting every breath to be his last. Finally, content that there was nothing else to do, he put his head down on the edge of the bed and, Leo's hand still in his, rested his tired eyes.

Leo was warm, and almost comfortable. He remembered thinking the next time he woke up he'd be making an accounting to St. Peter, but if Heaven were just clean sheets and relief from pain, that was good enough for him. He was too tired to give it any more thought just then.

The next time he found any sense of awareness, it was to realize that this smelled like a hospital. He was home somewhere. He didn't even care where he was, but he was out of that camp, and he was clean and bandaged and no one was trying to hurt him. The relief that washed over him was enough to make him cry, but he couldn't hold onto his new reality that long. He was too weak to even open his eyes, too out of it to sense anything beyond this sweetly welcome sense of home, but it was enough and Leo let go again, into the warm darkness that was so inviting.

He could hear the rhythmic tones of medical machinery, but rather than be annoyed that the noise had pulled him from blissful sleep, he reveled in the tangible reminder that he'd survived hell and was safe. It was just good to be alive. If he were honest with himself, he'd been expecting to die ever since he'd gotten the first good look at his leg after they'd punched out. That he'd survived not only days in the jungle, but an untold nightmare imprisonment in the camp, whatever else happened in his life was gravy. He knew he was pretty beat up, and he was dismayed by an incredible sense of weakness. His chest still felt tight, but it wasn't the awful inability to breathe anymore. He could tell they'd given him some pretty strong drugs, and while his leg still hurt, it wasn't the torture it had been before. There was a new warmth against his right side, and he was shocked to see the back of a man's head tucked neatly against the edge of the bed. He looked harder. Either he was still pretty out of it, or something had happened that he didn't understand. He knew that head. He knew that hair, and he tried to reach a hand up to stroke through it but only managed to twitch his fingers. He was sure he was awake, but if Jed were really here, that didn't make any sense. Where the hell was he and what had happened? He lay there, trying to put the puzzle together and aware he was missing some important pieces.

He slipped in and out of the edges of sleep this time, so intent on figuring things out that he wasn't aware of just how tired he was. If Jed were exhausted enough to be asleep by Leo's hospital bed, he must have been through some hellacious times. Leo strained and remembered vaguely having imagined Jed by his bed once in the camp. Was it possible the camp had all been some delusion? But no, he'd imagined his Da too, and that was obviously just the invention of a desperate mind. Once in a while the NVA sent a pilot home as a propaganda tool, usually the ones that were only going to die in a day or two anyway. Maybe he'd been that desperately hurt that they'd shipped him home? He wanted to wake Jed up and ask him, but he couldn't do that to his friend. If things were bad enough that Jed had felt compelled to come be at his side, he'd no doubt had to watch some pretty rocky stuff. If he were able to get a little rest now, Leo wasn't about to disturb him. Content that Jed was there, and everything would be explained to him soon enough, Leo relaxed on the pillow, savoring the soft comfort as something he'd taken for granted for too long.

This time when he woke it was with a vague memory of the sound of rotors and then chaos. There was music lurking at the edge of that memory and that didn't make any sense either. None of that would make sense if he'd been in a POW camp somewhere, but how to explain the torture sessions otherwise? Jed needed to wake up and explain all this to him. The drugs were starting to get a little light and his body was beginning to remind him that however it might have happened, the insults and injuries were more than just a nightmare. He wasn't in all that much pain, but he wanted to know what had happened. He knew about the leg, of course, and he'd suspected he'd cracked a couple of ribs, but whatever he'd done to his side had happened later, and he didn't remember that at all. What kind of a hospital was this anyway? It was about time someone came to check on him. Bored, hurting, but still unwilling to wake Jed, he lay back and tried to remember.

Jed woke with a crick in his neck, and eased away from Leo. He had no idea how long it had been, but Leo felt warm and alive next to him. Holding his breath, he watched as his friend's chest rose and fell in what looked like normal breathing. Immensely relieved, and more than a little surprised, he hurried away to find the nurse.

He found her outside of post-op, at a small desk there. "Excuse me, do you know if Dr. Hester is still in the hospital?"

She gave him a sad look, "The captain has passed on?"

Jed frowned at her misconception. "No! No, not at all. In fact, he's looking more comfortable than he has in days. Is Dr. Hester still here?"

She looked up with an expression of disbelief. "Yes, I believe he's asleep in his office. I'll page him right now."

Jed paced by the door to post-op while he waited.

Hester came in at a jog. "McGarry's still holding on?"

Jed nodded. "Better than that."

Hester grinned, "Son of a bitch. That kid's got more lives than a cat." Looking between Leo and Jed, he asked, "You and I both need some coffee. Why don't you see if you can run some down while you give me a minute to examine him?"

Jed knew when he was being told to make room, and given that it was Hester, he went without argument and with only a little reluctance.