Author: Regency

Title: 'So Called Redemption' by Toby Ziegler

Rating: PG for now.

Pairing: Whomever I decide to stick together, but maybe some Jed/Abbey

Spoilers/Season: Five for later mentions of Abbey's medication and Zoey's whatever. No Exit.

Summary: And idly, Toby wonders if the guests in the ballroom can feel the change, can feel the course of history shifting around them. Do they hear the saga being written twenty years in the future about this, about this night and all those that will follow? Do they hear the words, the wonder, the awe? Do they hear?

Disclaimer: They all belong to Aaron Sorkin, who abandoned them, and unless otherwise specified, I own no one here.

Author's Notes: This is just my take on what could happen. It ain't nothin', but a family thing.

~~~~~

Toby, Jed, and Leo's Oval Office Thing…

The party is finally in full swing. The President and the First Lady are dancing and if he looks distracted, well, that's to be expected right? He is after all, the Leader of the Free World. Toby watches them from his dark corner of the room. He wonders how bad it gets. Does he ever want to die when it happens? Does he ever want to hit things? Toby supposes that when they finish their interrupted conversation he'll find out.

At the crux of 'Because You Loved Me,' the President takes his wife on a full ballroom spin around the dance floor. He can hear her laughing from where he stands alone, mulling over his drink. He speculates that she knows, but isn't saying anything to keep the peace, but he knows better. She knows better. Seeing as sins of omission had never gotten them into trouble before.

Everyone else pales in comparison to their display. He ponders them as a couple; the changes, the pretend. He sees them and wonders if they're still pretending and finds that he can't tell them now, from them before. Is it because they're fixed or because everyone's just stopped looking so hard? There's nothing worse than watching a marriage die. There is, he thinks. Being in the marriage as it dies. It takes a part of both parties with it. And he thinks, maybe that's why he's fading away. But he doesn’t know, so he doesn't say. Not yet.

Soon the party winds down and with a whisper from a non-descript agent, he wishes them all a good night. With Abbey on his arm and his staff on his heels, he leaves. They're not going to bed yet. Situation Room. Toby wonders if it's already too late as the President slips away to speak with a steward holding a glass of water that he takes. He doesn't drain the glass, just taking a sip. Just enough.

As the President rejoins them, he looks down and pretends he didn't see a thing. He's been doing that a lot these days. The President and Leo leave for the Sit Room and everyone else is left to wait and see if they'll be needed. The First Lady leaves for the Residence with the word that she'll be back later. Toby looks after her, wondering again, but figures that he has enough problems for one evening.

About half an hour later, the President returns with Leo and a pensive countenance. Leo corrals them all into the Oval and tells them to do their thing. Leo relates what's happened while the President just stands, looking through the windows. Toby doesn't remember ever seeing him this tired. He wonders…As he expected, the portico doors open and the same steward from earlier in the evening comes in with a glass of water. He hands it to the President, who takes it. He doesn't finish it, but takes a few sips. Just enough. And Toby wonders if it's already too soon.

Leo indicates for Toby to go first, but he declines, stating he needs to speak with only the President. Leo insists that he get it out of the way. Toby is adamant that it's a private conversation.

"I'd rather have the conversation in private. Wouldn't you, Mr. President?" Their eyes meet momentarily and Jed nods. Leo looks at them both, but pushes on, calling on the other staff to fill in. When they've all made themselves heard, the President requests the room, they start to clear. Leo hesitates and Jed just says his name.

"Leo, it's okay. I've got this." Leo pulls the door shut behind him and the room is engulfed in silence. "Toby, please, go make sure the door is shut firmly. I have a feeling that we're going to need as much insulation as possible." He nods and does as ordered. He comes back to stand in front of the Resolute Desk. "So, what did you want to talk about earlier?" Toby clears his throat and watches the Man.

"I just -- I've seen things, sir. Things you've been doing." The President straightens. The air becomes familiar. He wonders if they feel it.

"What have I been doing exactly, Toby?" He's on the defensive and Toby wonders if he should be.

"I see you, sir. I see you taking pills. Not just the 'whatever my wife put in my hand in the morning' kind. The kind you take when bad…worrying things happen. I see you distraught. I see you like Atlas with the world on his shoulders and you're leaning, sir. I see you so close to begging God to take this weight that you no longer believe you can lift. I see you faltering. But, then, and it never fails, some steward with an earpiece, who I have absolutely no doubt is a Secret Service Agent in a dinner jacket and bowtie, will bring you a glass of water that you never finish drinking. You take it and out of some clandestine pocket in your jacket comes this little box. This little antiquated-looking box that you open and take out this little yellow pill. It's so small that when you put it in your mouth, I bet people think you're covering a yawn or eating a mint. And then, you take a few sips of water and away goes the steward. And again, it never fails, ten or fifteen minutes later, out comes Uncle Fluffy. And there you are, Uncle Fluffying around; telling us things we could care less about knowing and being a powerful nuisance. So, tell me, Mr. President. Is this you or do you come in pills now?" Toby watches the President, wanting something. Wanting most to be wrong. The Man doesn't say anything. "It's just -- I see you taking pills, sir, and I don't know what that is…I don't know what that is." The President looks defeated and Toby half expects the steward to come in, but the door to the portico remains closed. It must be too soon.

"It's hard to explain, Toby." The President rises from sitting on the edge of the desk and buttons his jacket as though the conversation is over. Toby isn't giving up that easily. Not for something this important.

"Well, I'm a smart man, Mr. President. I may not be a genius, but I can geek-speak with the best of 'em." The President's already walking for the outer office door. "I'm not giving up on this, sir. So you might as well come back over here." The President stops with the door half open.

"Excuse me," he say to his staff and wife, who just returned, waiting on the other side. "I'm just gonna go back in here for a moment." He closes the door harder than he intended to. He doesn't see the look they share on the other side of the door. "Excuse me, Toby, but what the hell was that?"

"You heard me, sir."

"Yes, I did. And so did my wife, my aide, and the rest of the senior staff. You don't ever talk to me like that, especially not where others can hear you. You may have something to say, but when I say the conversation's over, it is over. Do you understand?" Toby is silent. "Do you understand?" His tone is deadly and unmistakable. But so is Toby's resolve.

"I do." The President, believing he's been sufficiently understood, nods.

"Good. Now, we can go. They're waiting for--" Toby interrupts.

"I understand, but I don't agree."

"Well, you don't have to agree, not like you ever do. Now, let's go." The President opens the door, but Toby isn't done yet.

"With all due respect, Mr. President, we are going to have this conversation. We're either going to do it in private or we're going to do it in front of your wife, your aide, and the rest of the senior staff. And that's something I don't think you want. Because, either way, we're going to have it." The President is facing an incredulous bunch of people. He puts on a tight smile.

"Excuse me, again. I'm going to go back in here for another moment." He slams the door behind him, but it doesn't close and stays cracked a few inches. "Are you blackmailing me, Toby?" This time, his voice is like acid and Toby winces minutely, but stands firm.

"No, sir. I'm assuring you that if you don't talk to me, I'm gonna make this someone else's problem. I don't want to have to take it to the First Lady. I think we both know she has enough to deal with, right now." He looks at the President with a raised chin. He knows. They both know. The President closes his eyes. He nods.

"Okay. We will talk about this. But does it have to be tonight?" Toby pauses, but nods.

"Yes, sir. I believe it does. The day we say tomorrow is the day we say never."

"Who said that?" Toby clears his throat and rubs his beard.

"I did."

"No one said it before you?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Okay. Let's talk." They're both still standing. Toby's eyes are on the crack in the door where he can see everyone standing, pretending not to listen. He can see the First Lady looking at the ground and he wonders if it's because she's anxious or because they're watching her too. "You gonna talk, because at this point, I've got nothing to say on this. As a matter of fact, I think I could probably tell them outside about--"

"Close the door."

"What?"

"Close the door or they're going to hear about it straight from your lips." Apparently, he isn't as sold on the idea as he pretends to be, because in seconds the door is closed. Outside is outside and inside is inside. "Okay, now we can talk."

"It's not that big of a deal. It just some stuff that helps me."

"Okay, well, that's not good. You shouldn't need pills."

"Toby, maybe you haven't noticed, but this job is mildly stressful. They help me…deal with that stress."

"And I reiterate, you should not be taking pills."

"Toby--"

"No, sir. Do you not realize that every time you take one of those little yellow pills that you compromise the integrity of this office? This office. The one we're standing in--"

"I know which office you 're referring about."

"Good. I wasn't sure that you did."

"You're treading a thin line," he warns.

"So are you, sir." He waits. They could be here all night. "Maybe you should send the First Lady up. Doesn't she have to go to the clinic soon?"

"Yeah. Should I tell the staff not to wait for you?" Toby shrugs.

"You're the boss." The President mumbles.

"Damn. I should have been ready half an hour ago. There's no way, I'm going to be on time now. Babe, I've got to go. Bye guys." And she disappears out of the doors to the walkway. There's a moment of stillness before the doors open again and Abbey's back. She makes a beeline for her husband and stops in front of him. "I forgot to do something." He's going to inquire as to what that is, but he doesn't get the chance. She slips her hand behind his head and brings his lips down to hers. The kiss is brief, but there's promise of more later. She pulls gently at his bottom lip before pulling away. "Now, I have to go." She smiles and so does he. As she goes to leave, he pulls her back and whispers into her ear.

"I almost forgot to tell you and remember this, I love you very much." She smiles and something about his tone forces her to blush. Later is looking sweeter and sweeter by the moment. She turns back and whispers to him in turn.

"I love you more, but we're not playing that game right now, because I have to go. And please don't let Toby keep you up tonight." Her eyes plead with him. Even if she won't be there, it doesn't mean she doesn't care.

"Okay." Her eyes are stern, now. "Really, I won't. We probably won't even be here for another hour." That's a stretch, but one can hope.

"Yeah, okay. Hey! I believe you...not, but anyway." She gives him another quick kiss and steps away. "Now, I can go."

"Hey, Mrs. B. , I'm not feeling the love." Abbey rolls her eyes at Josh.

"Yes, well, Josh, you've got Donna. Feel the love." With that parting shot, she's gone. The silence that follows vacillates from being confused and awkward. Jed walks back in and shuts the door. Toby now, drink in hand and is sipping patiently. He'll stay here all night if necessary.

"What were we just talking about?"

"If I remember correctly, lines were involved."

"Ah, yes. Lines. Why do you think I compromise this office when I take these pills?"

"Because, when you take those, sir, you're false. You're chipper and you're folksy and you're making important decisions under some the world is beautiful tarp that is, you know, false and not real."

"You know you just said two things that mean the same thing?"

"Mr. President, can you please, for the love of God, take this seriously?"

"Am I laughing? I am slapping my knees with a great big grin on my face, Toby? No, I'm not. This is my job, a big chunk of my livelihood. This has defined me for the last five years and will define me for the next three. I'm not laughing, Toby."

"I know."

"Then, why are you doing this, getting me all riled up when you already know?"

"Because I'm trying to get you to associate some real emotion with this. I need to be you to be mad, because that's the only you're going to see that your problem's a problem. And that's the only way you're going to solve it." The President sighs and leans against the desk.

"I don't have a problem, Toby. I have a hard job and I have a way of making that job easier. That's all."

"You have a dependency on anti-depressants and you don't know how to stop and no one's telling you that you have to, so you won't."

"I don’t have a problem!" His hand slams onto the desk. He stands there, face red, breathing hard.

"You have a problem."

The President still stands there, a lock of hair falling onto his forehead. "You want me to get mad?" Toby nods. "I don't have a problem."

"You're not mad enough."

"I am mad. You come here and accuse me without knowing the facts, without knowing the details. Like hell, I’m mad."

"I don't know the details? I know that you're taking something that's compromising your behavior and I know, you can't be completely yourself when that's the case. And if you're not yourself, then, you're not the man we elected and you shouldn't be making state decisions. If you don't want to admit that there's a problem, then, you know, it's not fine, but that's for later tonight. This office has a problem. You say this office is a big chunk of your livelihood. Well, Mr. President, it's the livelihood of the entire country. There can be no qualms about who's in charge. You need to either be completely straight or completely medicated. We can't have President Uncle Fluffy, President Dr. Jekyll, and this other guy. The first two were hard enough to get used to, what the hell do I do with this new guy?"

"There is no other guy. There's just me. I--and who the hell are Uncle Fluffy and Dr. Jekyll?" Toby cracks a smile.

"Those are aliases that we have for the two basic hemispheres of your moods. Uncle Fluffy is your folksy side and Dr. Jekyll is, you know, the other side." The President blinks, because Toby, as a person, confuses him.

"Okay, well, we're definitely going to not care about that, right now. That's not why we're here."

"Thank you for noticing, Mr. President."

"What do you want me to say, Toby? I can see that you're disappointed in me. What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to say, my name's Josiah Bartlet and I have an addiction to prescription drugs. That's what I want you to say."

"I can't say that."

"Why not?"

"Because, I don't, Toby. I take them as needed. They were prescribed by my psych--counselor. He talked to my doctor and they established that it wouldn't interfere with anything I was already taking, nor with my daily Betaseron injection. I'm not in any danger."

"I didn't want this for you." The President stops short, surprised.

"Didn't want what?"

"This. I didn't want this. This thing. It was my personal goal to protect you from this."

"Toby, what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the first day. Your first day in Office, you came in here and with the eyes of a child and a voice filled with awe, you said, We're going to change the world in this room. And I said, Yes, sir. And I meant it. And we have, but somewhere along the line, I lost sight of you. You lost sight of you."

"I see myself just fine."

"No, sir. I think you're more jaded than the rest of us. We...I failed you. I threw you out there and shouted for you to change the world as though your intent alone would make it happen. You have intent, but I didn't account for the other people who have power and stand as huge roadblocks to that change. And for that, I'm sorry." Jed shifts from foot to foot, not sure how to take the apology.

"Okay, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I guess. I don't have a problem so you're apologizing over a non-issue. So, I guess I accept, by default...I think anyway."

"That wouldn't have confused you before."

"Yeah, Toby. I think you would confuse me, medicated or unmedicated."

"So you admit that you were medicated? That you are medicated?"

"Well, yes. Why lie about the truth?" Toby puts down the drink and exhales.

"Now, we're getting somewhere." He stuffs his hands into his. "Do you have a problem?"

"No." Toby shakes his head with a grim smile on his face. He's had it way up to here with the denials.

"Okay. That's it. You know, I've had enough. I'm talking to Abbey." Toby walks to the outer office door, but stops and goes towards Leo's instead. "Never mind that. I'll talk to Leo instead. Maybe he can talk some sense into you." He has his hand firmly on Leo's doorknob before Jed believes he's serious.

"Okay, okay. Wait. We'll talk about this. Really, this time."

"I thought we were really talking about this, just now. You were being stubborn and I was getting sick of it."

"Hey!"

"Hey to you too, sir. I've already said that we're going to talk about this tonight or I'm going to make it someone else's problem. I think I'm gonna make it Leo's." He pulls the door open and comes face to face with Leo, who stands there and looks at both of them.

"Do I need to intervene and before this goes any farther, should I get CJ?" Toby and Jed look at each other, each daring the other to speak first. Toby breaks eye contact to look at Leo.

"Not yet, but it will definitely be necessary in the future." Jed sighs.

"Yeah." Toby looks up at him with an expression that reads, There is hope for you yet. Jed returns with a ,'Gee, thanks' look.

"Hey, guys. You wanna pay attention to me now?" They look at him silently. "What's going on here?" Toby looks to the ground and starts to wonder if maybe bringing Leo in had been a bad idea. He watches the President. It's his ball now.

"Toby came to talk to me tonight during the party, but I didn't have time then. He decided that it was so urgent that we would be here all night, if necessary." Leo looks between them, his eyes as worried as they've ever been.

"Jed, what does Toby know that I should know?"

"Nothing." Toby sees the denial coming before it even leaves his lips and is prepared.

"He has an addiction…to prescription drugs." To say Leo looks stricken is an understatement. He stands there for a moment. His hand comes to cover his mouth and for a second, he looks as though he's going to be sick. Instead he begins to fall and they catch him on both sides, guiding him to the couch to sit. Jed rises almost immediately and moves to sit on the adjacent couch. He feels ashamed and can't meet either of their gazes. He doesn't know how he can feel this way after so adamantly defending his position before. He doesn't have a problem! He doesn't...Does he? He's sure he already knows the answer to that.

Next Part

Last Part