"So really, it's-"
A shot rang out, cutting off the president mid-sentence. Crimson blossomed on his white shirt as he stumbled and fell. Theodore and Cortelyou both moved to catch him, the Vice President half-wishing he could go after the fleeing assassin himself. The room erupted into a chaos of screams as people began to stampede, desperate to either punish the man responsible or vacate the building.
"My wife..." William McKinley gasped. "Be careful, Cortelyou, how you tell her. Oh, be careful."
The secretary nodded, close to tears. Then a bloodied hand clutched Roosevelt's jacket, pulling him close to the dying man's lips. "Find Alfred."
Roosevelt swallowed dryly, and kept his voice steady only through long years of practice in emergency situations. "I will."
The President's eyes rolled up into the back of his head, and he slumped completely into unconsciousness-whether it be from blood loss or death warming over, no one could say for sure.
America gasped at the sudden pain in his heart, dropping to his knees and clutching his chest as he was overcome with an unbearable mixture of incredible sadness and terrible outrage. He knew this pain, this feeling. He'd felt it before.
"God-fucking-damn it-WHY?!"
With no one to bear witness or offer comfort on the wide, empty prairie, America mourned the premature death of his president.
The inauguration held a solemnity that such an occasion should never have held. Few were in attendance, and there were no pictures. Roosevelt wore borrowed mourning attire for the proceedings, and spoke without embellishment. It was almost grim, with the subdued and dismayed reactions he was met with.
When he returned to the White House, he was surprised to find William McKinley's personal effects already removed, and replaced with his own. The staff's efficiency was truly remarkable, at times.
"Too much, too fast," Roosevelt muttered, trying and failing to feel comfortable at the large desk that had belonged to another only that morning. 'I wanted the presidency, and I wanted to fix this country. But this isn't how it should have happened. No one should have died.'
But the world wasn't too keen on making things fair, was it?
The newly minted president's eyes eventually travelled up to George Cortelyou, who was standing respectfully to the side. "How is Ida?"
The secretary's mouth pulled back into a slight grimace. "She is…very upset. She's withdrawn into her home, and hasn't smiled since she last visited him."
"It's a shame," Roosevelt sighed. "So kind, but terribly frail. I hope her sister can help her more than we could." He stood up again, crossing over to the window. "I want the Secretary of Justice and several newspaper representatives here as soon as you can summon them."
Cortelyou blinked at the rapid change in subject, and the sudden fire in the new President's eyes. "O-of course, sir. Might I ask why?"
"I'm going to respect William Mckinley's last wish," Theodore Roosevelt answered with firm determination and unwavering conviction. "We're going to bring Alfred F. Jones back to the White House."
Aaaaaand another stupidly short chapter. I've been writing the entire story on one document to separate later, and never realized how short each section actually was. I'll try to remedy that in the future.
HISTORICAL NOTES-
That's not exactly how William McKinley's assassination went. But I couldn't find a way to work the story around the actual proceedings. I'm happy to report that the crowd got together and beat the assassin's ass.
Roosevelt's first inauguration DID happen on the very day that McKinley finally succumbed to gangrene, due to how politically charged and tragic the circumstances were. He did not swear on a bible.
Ida Saxton McKinley, William McKinley's sickly and epileptic wife, lost the will to live shortly after her husband's untimely death. She became a recluse, and died but six years later.
SO...thank you guys for the wonderful reception this new story has gotten already. Hopefully I'll live up to your hopes and expectations!
Later dudes. ^J^