A/N: Thank you so much for the feedback so far! I'm sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up; I had college orientation the past couple days! And, my grad party is tomorrow, so things are crazy busy getting ready for that. Hopefully after this weekend things will slow down a little and updates will happen a little more quickly :)
I can't help it with my corny references with names. It's a disease.
Disclaimer: I own only the idea and the OCs; nothing original to The West Wing is mine, sadly.
Inhale. Exhale.
Inhale. Exhale.
Inhale. Exhale.
He kept reminding himself to breathe, focusing on the ticking of the clock above his head. The seconds dragged by; each one was another moment longer his wife was in surgery.
He swallowed, his face hung in his hands.
"Mr. Bartlet?"
Jed looked up, relief filling him when he encountered Addison standing before him. She was dressed in pink scrubs, crimson hair pulled back underneath a blue cap.
"How's Abbey?" he asked, eyes searching her face for any sign of bad news.
"Your wife is fine," Addison reassured him, and he relaxed, blowing out a slow breath. "The surgery went well; in a few days, she should be feeling noticeably less pain and the bleeding should stop. No sexual relations for at least two weeks; she needs to heal."
Jed nodded, knowing that wasn't going to be a problem- not just in the physical sense, but in the emotional one. Abbey was going to be incredibly fragile, he knew that. Addison's eyes met his, and there was something in those green depths that gave him pause.
"I'm going to tell this to Abbey too, but I'd like you to hear it first," Addison said, and Jed nodded, frowning slightly as he tried to understand where she could be heading with this conversation. "I know it's going to seem like trying to have another child as soon as possible will be the only way to move on from this heartbreak, but as both a medical professional and a friend, I strongly advise against it. Abbey's body just can't handle another pregnancy- I'm almost certain it would end in miscarriage again. And, trying to replace one child with another is no way to move past this. I care very deeply for your wife Jed- she's a brilliant surgeon, an incredible woman, and a beautiful friend. I can't bear to see her destroying herself over this."
Jed nodded, feeling numb.
He hadn't thought about another child; after this loss, he hadn't seen them trying for another baby. But he hadn't thought about what Abbey might want. He ached inside, his heart throbbing from the scars this night had created.
"Can I see her?" he asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. Addison nodded, and he stood, letting her lead him to the recovery room. She was the only patient in the open room, looking so small in the large white bed.
"She'll sleep for another few hours or so- but you can sit with her," Addison said quietly, and Jed nodded, walking over to his wife's bedside and sinking into the chair there, taking her smaller hand in both of his, running his thumb along the pale skin. He kissed her palm, closing his eyes and leaning forward, resting his forehead on the edge of the mattress.
He hadn't intended to fall asleep, but he was awoken by a gentle hand running over his hair. He straightened, worried something had happened to Abbey while he had been asleep, but relaxed when he saw his wife watching him, her hand still threaded lightly into his hair.
"Hey," he said, voice rough with sleep. Abbey's hand dropped from his hair to caress his cheek, fingers brushing his jaw bone lightly.
"Hey," she replied softly, shifting on the bed. Jed swallowed, sitting up further, scooting his chair a little closer. They were still the only ones in the recovery room; he guessed it was early morning, from the window in the corner of the room.
"How'd you feel?" he asked, reaching forward and tucking a strand of dark hair back behind her ear, fingers lingering at her neck. She shrugged, wincing slightly at the movement.
"Sore," she replied, fingers lacing together in her lap. "It hurts everywhere."
He could hear in her voice that she didn't just mean physically, and he frowned, wishing there were some magic words he could say to make this better. Instead he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering there for a few moments. Her hands gripped his shirt, holding him closer to her, and he could feel her body shaking against his.
"We'll make it through this," he whispered into her hair, holding her gently. "I promise we'll make it through this Abbey."
She only cried harder at his words.
"Grandma, when can we see Mom?" Liz asked after breakfast, once Richard had taken Ellie and Zoey upstairs to get some sleep; both girls were overtired and cranky, which didn't help the frightened emotions both girls were experiencing. Emily sighed, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand.
"I don't know, sweetheart," Emily answered honestly, tucking some of her granddaughter's dark hair behind her ear. "Whenever your father calls and tells us we can visit."
Her eldest granddaughter sighed, rubbing at the back of her neck with the palm of her hand, raising sad blue eyes to hers.
"It was the baby, wasn't it?" she asked, and Emily's eyes widened slightly. Elizabeth was a bright girl, and old enough to have understood what was happening- and Abbey and Jed must have told the girls before they decided to tell anyone else about the pregnancy. Emily nodded sadly, and Liz's eyes filled with tears. "Did Mom lose him?"
Emily's heart broke even further- they'd been expecting a boy?
"She was admitted for a miscarriage," Emily confirmed with another sad nod, and Liz's tears spilled over.
"Oh poor Mom and Dad," she whispered, covering her mouth with her hand. Emily pulled the teenager into her embrace, kissing her head and rubbing her back, murmuring reassurances. "They were so happy about this baby."
"I'm sure they were," Emily whispered, her own tears pricking her eyes. "Oh, I'm sure they were, sweetheart."
Once Emily had gotten Liz into bed, she sat in the living room with Richard, the quiet around them deafening. Normally when the girls were here, it was loud and excited and happy. Now the air was melancholy and sad; it made Emily's chest ache.
"They were expecting a boy," she said suddenly, seeing Richard turn to look at her, blue eyes pained. "Liz asked if Abbey had lost 'him'. They were going to have a son, Richard."
Her husband swallowed heavily, bringing her into his embrace. He kissed her forehead, letting her tears overflow onto his shirt.
"How do I help my daughter?" she asked in a sob, desperation tingeing her voice. "How am I supposed to help Abbey through losing a baby?"
"You support her the only way you know how," Richard said quietly, hand stroking lightly up and down her back. "You be her mother, Emily. That's all she needs from you."
Emily was silent as she contemplated her husband's words, wiping away her tears and taking a few deep breaths.
"I should call Jack and Rose," she said, sitting up and running a hand through her hair, swallowing.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Richard asked, face looking uneasy. "They hadn't even told us they were pregnant yet- though, I'm assuming that's what tomorrow's dinner was about. Wha if they decide to keep this quiet?"
"He's her brother, Richard," Emily answered, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "Why would she keep that from him?"
"Because Rose is pregnant and they have three healthy children as well," Richard replied softly, and Emily's eyes widened, understanding flashing across her features. "I just don't want Abbey to hurt anymore than she already is. Let's give them a few days, allow them to heal a little."
Emily nodded, sighing softly.
"I hope Jed calls soon," she said, almost under her breath. Richard nodded, shifting his legs up onto the coffee table, encouraging her to recline against him.
"Close your eyes, Em. You're exhausted. I'll wake you if Jed calls, I promise," he said, and she hesitated for a moment before relaxing, resting her head on his chest.
"Thank you," she murmured, the movements of his hand rubbing her back sending her closer and closer to sleep.
"You're welcome," he replied softly, and she felt him kiss her hair. "Sleep, Emily."
His voice in her ear was the last soothing thing she heard before blackness claimed her.
Abbey was in her own room now, but all she truly wanted was to go home and curl up in her own bed.
The white walls and antiseptic smell of the hospital- something that was usually a comfort to her- was driving her mad. Jed had left to get coffee and call her parents, to see how the girls were. Abbey missed her daughters; it had been almost two whole days since she'd seen them and it was killing her.
Jed came back into the room with two to-go cups of coffee, and Abbey's heart ached at how exhausted he looked. He'd been up half the night on a make-shift conference call with his staff about a bill that they were formulating, and he'd barely slept the night before.
"Your mom said the girls are fine; they can keep them another night," Jed said, and even his voice sounded tired. He hadn't shaved in two days, and the shadow on his face and neck aged him. "Addison said you can be discharged; there's paperwork to sign."
Abbey nodded, swallowing.
"I called Ron," he said, and Abbey's eyes widened; Ron Waters was Jed's Chief of Staff at his Congressional office. "I won't be going back to Washington for the next few weeks; I'll be working from home."
"Jed, you don't have to-"
"Yes, I do Abbey- my family comes before my job, I've told you that," Jed interrupted, shaking his head. "I'm needed here; Washington can survive without me for a month or two."
Abbey swallowed, nodding. The fear that had been inside at the thought of being alone, without Jed, and trying to deal with this lessened at his words, but guilt took its place; she knew being a Congressman and helping their country was important to Jed.
"I have the paperwork," Addison said, coming into the room and putting an end to anymore discussion about Jed's work. "I just need you to sign some things, and then you're ready to go home."
Abbey took the papers, reading through them quickly and signing where needed; Jed came over to sign one of the other release forms and then brought her clothes over. While Addison processed the paperwork Abbey changed, her movements slow so as to avoid pain from stretching.
When Addison came back to tell her everything had processed, Abbey was sitting on the edge of the bed, drinking coffee, and Jed was pacing the length of the room.
"You're all set, Abbey," Addison said, eyes glancing between the couple. "I don't want to see you back in this hospital for at least three weeks, do you hear me? I don't care about emergencies; if you're back in this hospital and wearing a lab coat, you're going to get your ass booted by me."
Abbey nodded, the hints of a small touching her lips as she embraced Addison. The redhead gave her a tight squeeze, pulling back after a moment.
"Remember what I said," she said quietly, eyes locking into Abbey's. "And know I'm only a phone call and possibly a hospital beeper away if you need me."
"Thanks, Addie," Abbey said, squeezing her friend's hand. Addison shot a look at Jed and nodded, which he returned silently. The redhead left the room and Abbey turned to Jed, clutching her coffee cup in both hands. "Ready?"
Her husband nodded, her bag on his arm and his own coffee cup in his hand. Abbey slid her hand into his free one, interlocking their fingers; he squeezed back reassuringly, kissing the top of her head.
They walked to the car silently, where Jed helped Abbey into the passenger seat and threw her bag in the back before getting into the driver's side. They didn't talk on the drive home; Abbey flicked on the radio, some country station filling the car. Back at the farm Jed helped Abbey out of the car and into the house, setting her up on the couch. She fell asleep almost instantly, curled up underneath a blanket.
Jed sat out on the porch, a glass of scotch on the table and a cigarette in his hand; he barely felt the cold January air, even though he was in only a sweater.
He wasn't expecting it when he felt the warm hands on his shoulders; he'd been so lost in thought he hadn't heard the door open behind him.
"Abbey, it's cold out here, you should-"
"I want to sit with you," she said quietly, and Jed shifted so she could curl up in his lap, his arms wrapped around her, keeping her warm. She pressed her head up under his chin, her forehead touching his jaw, and he swallowed, closing his eyes as he held her.
"Your mom and dad are bringing the girls back tomorrow at eleven," he murmured, and Abbey smiled a little in relief; she wanted her babies back. "She asked what we were going to tell Jack and his family, and Jonathon and his."
"The truth," Abbey replied quietly, nestling further into him when a gust of wind blew around them. "After we talk to the girls. We don't have to hide this."
Jed nodded, rubbing her back gently as he kissed her forehead.
"Still sore?" he asked, feeling her shift her weight and wince. She nodded against him, a small gasp escaping her lips. "Let's go lie down."
He picked her up easily; she looped her arms around his neck as he walked, supporting her easily. She closed her eyes, resting her head on Jed's shoulder as he climbed the stairs, barely out of breath by the time he reached their bedroom.
"You're too light," he commented lightly when he set her down on their bed, watching as she curled up under the covers and waited for him to join her.
He hadn't meant anything by the comment; she was just small- and in her head, she knew that.
But all she could think about was that if she was still pregnant, if she had gotten to the point in the pregnancy where it was noticeable and prominent, he wouldn't have been able to carry her as easily as he just had. Tears began to slip down her cheeks, and through the blurriness of the droplets, she could see Jed pale as he got in bed beside her.
"Abbey-"
She pressed against him, burying her face in his chest as the tears poured down her cheeks, sobs wracking her body. Jed's arms came around her, holding her close as he rubbed her back, whispering soothingly in her ear. She clung to him, clung to his voice, clung to the love and support he was giving her. She ached, everywhere, physically and emotionally, and the pain was threatening to overwhelm her.
"It hurts," she whispered through her tears, the words muffled in his chest. "Thinking about him, thinking about what should be happening right now. I'm a doctor and I lost our own son, Jed. I lost him."
"Addison said it wasn't your fault, you know that Abbey," Jed said, shaking his head against hers, wishing he could make her see. "None of this is your fault sweetheart, none of it."
"But it feels like it is," Abbey sobbed, fresh tears starting. Jed knew that right now, there was nothing he could say to convince her, so he simply held her, letting her cry. He didn't cry; he couldn't, not now, not when Abbey needed him.
But an hour or so later, when Abbey had cried herself to sleep, Jed slipped out of the bed, turned the shower on, and let his own tears mix with the spray as it ran down his cheeks.