Kathleen A. Klatte
kat@g...
Kath725@x...
"Reflections"
Feedback and commentary are most welcome.
Disclaimer: The West Wing is the property of NBC, et al; this is a
recreational endeavor, no profit is being made and no copyright
infringement is intended.
Another take on a cliffhanger resolution.
**Spoilers for "What Kind of Day Has It Been."
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"I'm sleeping fine tonight."
C.J. to Danny
******************************************
Danny Concannon studied C.J. Gregg's calm, still countenance. Her
hair was spread out over her pillow and her lashes curled against
pale cheeks. If he ignored the tubes inserted in her nose and mouth,
he could almost convince himself that she was sleeping...but she
wasn't. She was in a drug-induced coma following surgery to remove
two bullets from her chest. The room was cluttered with electronic
equipment that whirred and beeped its soft assurances that she still
lived. Machinery pumped blood through her veins and oxygen through
her lungs.
He'd been here for two days. Danny figured someone must have done
some pretty fast talking to keep him from being thrown out, but he
didn't know who and he didn't much care. In the interminable hours
since the sniper shad opened fire on the President's entourage, Danny
had come to realize that the one thing he really did care bout lay in
this hospital bed. He just wished she'd wake up, so he could tell
her. Hell, he wished she'd wake up, even if it was to tell him to
get lost. He wished she'd wake up...
Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he reread what he'd written on his
pad...they wouldn't allow a laptop in the room, for fear that it
would cause interference with the equipment.
"I have covered the White House for eight years. In that time, I
have seen and experienced many things, but I have never been shot at
before - never seen friends and colleagues fall in the street to lie
in their own blood. I wish I had never had to see that...wish I
wasn't sitting here in a hospital room, hoping against hope to see
someone open their eyes, but I have, and I am.
I think the thing that saddens me the most is that this happened here
- in the country that offers its citizens more personal freedom than
any other. There are so many ways to express your opinion - you can
write letters, post a webpage, stage a peaceful demonstration, rent a
billboard or advertising time on television or radio, and most
importantly, you can vote. But two nights ago, someone decided that
all that wasn't good enough and they chose to express their opinion
with a gun.
I wonder if they even realize how badly their plan backfired? That
their message has been lost in the screams and the blood? That they
have made martyrs of people guilty of no other crime then being in
the wrong place at the wrong time?
I wonder...and I watch...and I wait."
"That's very good, Danny. I can have it typed up and sent in to your
editor if you'd like."
Danny jumped at the sound of the First Lady's voice. "Mrs. Bartlet -
I -"
"Sit down, Danny," she told him kindly. "I know I shouldn't have
been reading over your shoulder."
"It's all right," he said. "I just didn't hear you come in."
"How is she?"
"The same...I guess," Danny replied tiredly. "She hasn't moved or
anything..."
"Not quite," the First Lady informed him. "Did you know that those
few times you've had to leave the room her readings have dropped?
And that they leveled out again as soon as you came back? She knows
that you're here. C.J. knows that someone who loves her is nearby."
Looking at up Mrs. Bartlet, Danny suddenly realized whose orders were
preventing the hospital staff from tossing him out, and he was
grateful.
"Danny?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"You take good care of her."
"I will. How...how is Zoë?" he finally roused himself enough to ask.
"She's very frightened. I think it terrifies her to realize that in
this century, in this country, people would try to kill her because
they don't like the person she's dating."
"God knows, it terrifies me," Danny replied.
"Me, too," Abby agreed. "And...we lost Gina this morning. She
arrested...they brought her back twice...the third time...they let
her go."
"Damn," Danny swore, burying his head in his hands. "Where does it
end?"
"For the people who did this, it ended this morning," she told him
quietly. "Federal Marshals got a tip about where the shooters were
hiding out...they resisted arrest and..."
"They're dead?" Danny guessed.
"Yes."
"But it's too late for Gina...maybe for C.J. and Leo."
"Jenny and Mallory are in with Leo, praying for him and giving him
something to hold on to. That's what you have to do for C.J."
"How?" he whispered.
"Just be here for her."
"That's all?"
"That's all...and everything," Abby told him with a wise little
smile. "And when she wakes up, you read her your article."
"I'm not sure it's -"
"I am," Abby said firmly, taking the pad away from him.
******
Danny was dozing in the hard plastic chair when he felt someone
squeeze his fingers feebly. Bolting upright in the chair, he saw
C.J.'s head turned towards him on the pillow. Her eyes were open and
filled with recognition, despite the haze of drugs. The hand he held
cradled in a gentle grasp moved again and he smiled.
"Welcome back," he greeted her.
Too weak to do much else, C.J. curled her fingers around his again
and then her eyes fluttered shut.
Leaning over, Danny softly kissed her forehead, then settled back
into his chair.
Fin.
Copyright © 2000 Kathleen Klatte
All Rights Reserved
****************************
Miss Kathleen A. Klatte
kat@g...
kawklatte@a...
http://www.homestead.com/Kath725/
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