Surrender

          “Sir? We need you to move aside. We’ll take it from here.”
          “What’s his name?”
          “Sam. Sam Seaborn.  I’m still here, Sam!”
          “Sir, you need to back away.”
          “Come on, Josh.” It was CJ that finally moved him from his friend’s side, her hand gently caressing his back in a comforting manner.  “We have to wait now.”  He nodded dumbly, and tried to see past the paramedics, tried to see what they were doing to Sam.
          “What’s going on over here!” A loud voice shocked him back to awareness, as he turned and found Toby standing behind him.
         “Toby, calm down. We’re wound up enough already.” CJ reached out to touch his shoulder, but he jerked away.
         “Where’s Sam? Shouldn’t you two in a car headed  for the west wing by now?”
         “Sam’s down there, bleeding from two gunshot wounds. We were over here on our hands and knees trying to keep him alive! Where the hell were you?”  He finished his tirade and glanced at CJ, who was staring at him with a shocked look.  For a moment, he thought Toby was speechless.
         “I was over there, with Leo.  He has a concussion and a broken wrist. He’ll be fine.” His voice was eerily calm, but he continued. “I told him everyone was fine.  I didn’t think...I didn’t think anyone was hurt.  Sam was shot?”
         He went to answer, but CJ clamped a hand over his mouth.  “Twice, in the stomach and in the chest.”  Toby nodded and tried to get a glimpse of the fallen man, to no avail.  The three stood there, without saying a word.  They watched because they were helpless, because their friend was dying and they couldn’t do a thing.  Three senior advisors to the White House, completely unable to aide him.  It made him crazy.  When he took his job, he felt like Superman, he felt invincible.  In ten minutes, he had come crashing back to earth.  And he’d give anything to fly again.

        The paramedics began to move Sam, who was now surrounded by secret service agents as well.  He broke out of CJ’s grasp and began to follow the stretcher.  They argued with him as they loaded Sam into the ambulance, then reluctantly agreed to let him ride in the front seat on the way to the hospital.  He sat there, listening to the medics scramble around and the faint sound of the heart monitor, and told himself that everything would be ok.  He lost track of time as he became lost in his thoughts and soon they arrived at the hospital. As he watched as the stretcher whisked Sam away into a trauma room, and realized there was nothing he could do.  He couldn’t call his family, he couldn’t call his girlfriend.  She’d come and pretend like her heart wasn’t breaking when she heard, and he wondered how she’d do it.  But she’d find away, because the promise she had made with Sam meant more than her feelings.  He wanted that, he needed that, he craved that.  He dreamed that, for him and Donna.  But it was a dream and nothing more.

         He pushed those thoughts out of his head as CJ and Toby entered the waiting room and sat down.  They didn’t say anything, and he didn’t either.  He resigned himself to the fact that there was nothing to say.  No condolences to trade, no hope to be shared.  It would have to be that way.  CJ walked over to the phones, while Toby flipped through an outdated magazine without bothering to look at it.  A doctor came out, and told them Leo would be fine, he just needed to stay overnight for observation due to his concussion, and that his wrist would heal fine.  He mentioned that he wanted to know who else was injured, and thought it would be better if one of them broke the news about Sam, who was still in the ER.  Toby left, and he paced the waiting room.  CJ came back and sat, and he paced.  Then another doctor came in.

        He told them Sam was critically injured.  The stomach wound had lacerated his spleen and kidney, which counted for severe blood loss.  The other nicked the sac around his heart and pierced a rib, which in turn punctured his lung.  He arrested once for a short period of time but they were able to revive him and stabilize him enough for surgery.  If he survived the operation (and he noted the word ‘if’) the next 24 hours were critical.  After that, he had a decent chance at full recovery.  He told them the surgical waiting room was on the fourth floor and exited with a sad smile.  

        CJ tried to say something, but the words didn’t come out right, and instead of responding he gave her the update on Leo.  She nodded, and the silence began again.  He wondered how one little thing could take away their ability to communicate.  He and CJ never had problems conversing, and he didn’t understand that now, of all times, when he needed to talk to her, he couldn’t form a sentence.  But he couldn’t think like that now.  He couldn’t really think at all.

       So he sits there, with CJ, and his mind races.  Dozens of thoughts zoom in and out, but most of them are the same.  He wasn’t there.  He didn’t help him.  Sam’s dying.  And Mallory.  Mallory.  He can’t call her.  CJ mentioned she left a message on her machine about her dad.  No one knows about her and Sam.  Her boyfriend is dying, shot in the chest and stomach.  Her boyfriend is dying and no one knows it’s her boyfriend.  No one will understand her grief, and no one will comfort her.  Except him, because he took Sam in when she kicked him out. .  He’ll have to take her aside and tell her about Sam, then he will give her the ring.  The ring Sam gave her to offer his home to her.  The ring she gave back when he messed up.  The ring he gave to him to give to her because he was going to be late.  The ring that has been tinted red with Sam’s blood.  The ring that will make her realize she can grieve, that she has to tell everyone about their situation.  It sits in his palm now, shining in the bright hospital lighting.  He wonders how something so small can have such an effect on a life, on lives, the lives of people he knows and trusts and loves.  He’s staring at it when she runs into the waiting room, eyes slightly red, hair slightly mussed, expression slightly feared.  She doesn’t know, and he’ll have to tell her.  He’ll have to break her heart, tell her that the boyfriend that she kicked out of the house is closer to death than life.  And he hates it.

       “Hey Mal, did you get my message?”  CJ motions for the younger woman to sit next to her, but she is oblivious.
       “No...I just heard, and I heard it was here, and I came...here.”  Mal was stammering, her eyes darting frantically around the room. 
       “Your father broke his wrist and has a slight concussion.  They want to keep him overnight just to be safe.  But he’ll be fine, Mallory.”  CJ smiled, and she returned it.  That’s not what she needs to know, but CJ is unaware of that.  He has to let her know.
       “Mal, come with me.  I’ll take you to see your father.”  She bites her lip and gives a quick nod before following him. 
       “I’m so glad he’s okay, because I was so worried about him.  He always seems to get in these situations and I just....”
       “Mallory.  Sam was shot.”  The words came out fast and harsh, faster than he expected.  Her face hardened and her eyes welled with tears.  She couldn’t speak, because she was afraid to tell him.  He wishes she wasn’t, because it‘d be easier.  Even now, when he’s dying, when she doesn’t know he’s dying, she’ll honor the agreement they made with each other.  He feels the jealously seep back in, but he pushes it away and continues.
       “He was hit twice, once in the chest and once in the stomach.  The doctors say the surgery will be long and tedious, and extremely risky.  If he survives it, he’ll have a 24-hour period to wait and see.  If he makes it that long, there‘s a good chance he can fully recover.  But no guarantees.”  She remains silent, though the tears stream down her face effortlessly.  He can’t believe that she is still strong.  That she didn’t fall to pieces the instance he broke the news. 

       “I’m...I’m very sorry to hear about...S.... him.”  Her voice breaks more with every word she speaks, and he notices that she can’t say his name.  He knows the moment she says it, she’ll break down and admit everything to him, and tell him how she can’t live without Sam.  He wishes she would, but she won’t, and he’ll have to do it.  He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the ring, and holds it out to her.  She stares at it, then at him, then picks it up with her trembling fingers and stares at it some more.  “How...” she can’t say another word, but her eyes are pleading with him, begging for an answer. 

       “He stayed at my house after the picture.”  She didn’t look at him.
       “You know?”  He nodded.  She gazed at the ring again, then at Josh’s sleeve, at his hands.  At the blood that was on them.  “And that’s...”
       “Yes.”  It was then Mallory fell apart.  She slipped the ring on her finger as she fell to her knees.  He found himself holding the sobbing woman; stroking her back and telling her everything would be fine.  He wondered when he became the person people come to, but they say tragedy brings out the best in people.  If that were the case, then he’d rather everyone get to know his bad side.  It shouldn’t be that way. The situation shouldn’t be like this.  They shouldn’t be at a hospital.  She shouldn’t have to tell her father about her relationship with Sam because he was shot.  It should have been the three of them, in a private setting, under good circumstances.  Not because of tragedy.  Not because of some kids who couldn’t see the world in anything but black and white.

      She pulled away from him, and wiped her eyes with her hands.  He marveled at how quickly she became composed again.  Mallory offered him a weak smile.  “I want to see my father now.  I need to tell him.  He needs to know.”  He nodded at her.  “I don’t care if anyone else finds out.  I don’t care anymore.” Her voice was becoming hoarse.  “I just didn’t want it to be like this.  We...we didn’t want it to be like this.  We had it all planned, you know?  We’d talked about telling you.  How did this go wrong?” A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she hastily wiped it away.  “Where is his room, Josh?”  He pointed, unable to speak.  He wanted to answer her questions.  He wanted it to be yesterday.  Instead, he stood there as she stepped into the room, listened as he greeted his daughter.  
       “Baby.  I’m so happy to see you.” 
       “I’m so glad you’re okay, Daddy.”
       “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.  I just wish Sam was.  Did you hear?”
       “Yeah.”
       “Things are gonna be hectic, but we’ll make it through. The president’s fine, Zoey’s fine, and...”
       “Dad? There’s something I have to tell you.”


                                                       After that, he walked away.
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