five votes - a west wing collection

xii

TW: Major Character Death

Death wasn't a new concept to Jed Bartlet. It was a fact of life: what goes up must come down, an object in motion stays in motion, what lives must, eventually, cease to live. It was something he'd learned at a young age, when his mother had succumbed to illness, and something he was reminded of regularly- reminded by Morris Tolliver, by Percy Fitzwallace, by Leo McGarry. Reminded by this disease, this illness, that wore away at hos body, deteriorated his muscles, and weakened his mind.

Death was a matter of life- of the end of life. Death was not a phantom, nor a menace. It wasn't a ghost, or a reaper. It was a fact.

And the fact was, death had come for Jed Bartlet.

It wasn't surprising, to Jed or to Abbey or to anyone, really, in their extended hodge-podge mess of a family. The multiple sclerosis had taken its toll, and with all three of his daughters content, his wife happy, and his term as president completed, there wasn't much pressuring Jed to stop it.

He didn't want to go, didn't want to leave his family, but truthfully, he was tired. Tired of fighting, of trying to remember how to speak, to repeat the brilliant speeches he had been known for. Tired of seeing the pity, not just in Abigail's eyes but in Josh and Donna's when he had to be reminded of their daughter's name, in CJ's when he asked when she'd gotten married, in Toby's when he just couldn't remember Huck's name. He was tired of the shots, the medication, the doctors and the bills.

He was tired. Exhausted, truthfully, of pushing away the inevitable, the facts, the end.

The end was coming. Jed knew it, and Abbey knew it. He knew that she knew, of course he did, because CJ had come from California. Because Sam visited as often as Josh could spare him. Because even President Santos had come by one afternoon, to chat and to have lunch with Abbey.

The end was coming, the truth about to hit, and in the end, the truth was death.

It was not a new concept, not a surprise, but Jed did not know what to expect. Lying in bed- his own bed, not a hospital, because former presidents get to make choices like that- surrounded by friends and family, Jed felt a sense of peace washing over him. Perhaps he hadn't been perfect, maybe he had made mistakes, but here, surrounded by people who loved him, people he loved, he was content in knowing that, at the very least, he had surrounded himself with truly good people.

Jed watched them, holding his eyes open until tears stung his eyes and his vision blurred. Then, ever so slowly, he blinked, and when he opened his eyes, they were gone.

The place in which Jed was now standing- standing, on his own, without a cane or a brace or support- was white, a sort of soft, glowing lightness that seemed to stretch on endlessly. And it was quiet. Slowly, he took a step forward, marveling at the way every joint moved without pain or stiffness.

So this was death. Peace, and wellness, and a quiet sense of love that seemed to float through the air. It was tranquility, interrupted only by a quiet sense of loss for those left behind.

"I was starting to think you'd never get up here."

Jed froze. He knew that voice. He would know it anywhere, could pick it out of a crowd of a billion.

"Five years is a damn long time, but I suppose you had your reasons."

Hardly breathing, Jed slowly turned. "Leo?"

It seemed like such a long time since he'd spoken to him, seen him, heard his voice. And perhaps it had been; five years was, after all, a long time to go without your best friend.

Yet there he was. Right in front of Jed, a twinkle in his eyes, wearing that signature half-smirk of his. Spreading his arms, he shrugged. "Welcome to heaven, Jed."

Jed's feeling of loss suddenly melted away at the sight of Leo, and at the realization that, eventually, someday, his beloved Abbey would join him. But for now, he had Leo, and he was content.

Jed opened his mouth, questions on the tip of his tongue, but before he had managed a word, Leo turned and began walking away.

It was a fact of life: what goes up must come down, an object in motion stays in motion, what lives must, eventually, cease to live.

Jed followed Leo.

[a/n: because who doesn't love a good story about jed's eventual death]