TITLE: Those Who Show Up
Not mine. Y’know the drill.
Oh, and at some points you may be wondering who the hell I’m talking
about…that’s the point. Call me weird…but hey.
It’s my story, I’ll do what I want! ::Grins::
peered through the fence. Where
were they? CJ and Leo and Sam and
Toby…The President? He could only hope they were safe.
Bodies fell rapidly and he thought he saw the top part of Toby’s head
going down in the mob
felt a sharp pain jabbing at him four…no, five times…And that was all he
could comprehend before he blacked out.
Concannon had been with the rest of the reporters when the shots had rung out.
He immediately had to know more - but not for his paper, just for him.
CJ was there, where the gun was aiming for…He rushed over, only to be
held back by police officers.
Sam was standing nearby, looking around frantically for a familiar face.
"Danny! Let him in," he
told the policeman.
CJ?" Danny demanded. Then he
looked down and saw her body lying limply on the pavement, a pool of blood under
her head. "Oh God," he
whispered. "Same, give me your
coat!" Sam shrugged out of it and
handed it over, and Danny lifted CJ’s head as slightly as possible and began
to gently apply pressure to her head. "You
I um…I got pushed and then pushed into CJ, we both went down…"
you hit your head?"
it’s not bad…" Sam swayed a little on his feet and steadied himself on
sit down before you kill yourself," Danny ordered as he repositioned Sam’s
coat. "Dammit," he muttered.
Why wasn’t any help around?
off the ground with only one useable arm was difficult but not impossible for
Toby. An EMT was checking him over
- much to his annoyance - and began to splint his broken wrist.
his vantage point, he could see Leo sprawled on the ground in a spread eagle
positions and several Secret Service agents hauling themselves off the pavement.
then Toby - somber, dry, morose Toby who very rarely so much as smiled -
began to laugh. Once he started, he
couldn’t stop. "He’s going
into shock," the EMT called to a colleague.
"Get him over to GWMC." She
finished splinting his arm and another EMT took the still-laughing man to the
might’ve laughed too…if it wouldn’t have been for the bullet embedded in
losing consciousness! Liberty’s
unconscious! I repeat, Liberty is
unconscious! No sign of bullet
would or blood, possibly a concussion…"
could see a woman walking toward him. She
looked like an angel, but there was no mistaking that face, those curly auburn
locks. "Hey…Joanie…" he
were finally at GWMC before they knew the other one wa sokay.
The embrace they shared was long and fierce, as was usually the case when
two people thought they’d lost each other forever.
"Is my father…?"
sure he’s okay," he reassured her. He
gently clasped her tiny, trembling hands between his own dark hands, and wished
he could forget that the two of them had been the cause and target of gunfire
not twenty minutes before.
sat down with her class’s latest history tests. They had finished their presidential unit, one she enjoyed
because she knew the current president personally and had all her life.
She turned on the radio and got to work.
The first test was nearly done when the music stopped.
"This just in. there was
an assassination attempt on the life of the President at approximately 10:30 pm
tonight as he and his staff left the Newseum in Rosslyn, Virginia.
There is no word on his condition as of yet…"
tried not to panic. Her father, her godfather, the man she loved…she had to
know if they were okay.
looked down at the test she’d been grading.
The next question read: "Who
was the last president to be assassinated?"
Valium was kicking in, he thought with a drugged smile.
That and the painkillers…absolutely amazing.
He couldn’t feel a thing. What
shooting? There was no shooting…Just the cottony goodness of
hadn’t asked him for a medical history. There
hadn’t been time to do that when they’d brought him in.
So they had no way of knowing not to give him painkillers.
No way to know what would result. After all, it was standard procedure…
not for a recovering addict.
paced nervously around the waiting room. Why
was there no news on anyone yet? He
was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice the red-head enter the room until
she threw herself at him, shedding tears of worry and relief against his
What the -"
heard…the radio…I had to see…"
said where we were on the radio?" She
shook her head. "You’ve been
driving to every hospital in the city?" Mallory nodded slightly, still leaning
her head on his shoulder.
don’t know," he answered honestly. "He’s
still in there, that’s all I know. They aren’t telling us anything." He gently ran a hand over her hair. "It’ll be okay…Trust me…"
him Betaserone," he heard a familiar voice say. "We’ve been through this before."
what business -"
a doctor. Now give the man Betaserone before he dies."
don’t want to be here, yet, Josh."
not? I see no pitchforks or
flames," he joked.
now, everything you’ve done is still there, only you’re not…"
always did have a way of stating the obvious, sis."
friends are down there scared to death that you’re dead, Josh.
You can’t see these things yet, but I…Sam’ll never be the same,
Leo’s about to get hooked on painkillers again, and with you being gone,
alcohol will follow…They need you, Josh. Don’t follow me yet."
whine of the monitor seemed to ignore the doctor’s orders and the <<schzack!>>
of the defibrilator paddles. "Time of death…" As the doctor began to state the time,
the drone stopped, and became a regular, rhythmic beeping.
couldn’t believe the phone call she’d just received from Sam.
Gun shot wound? Josh? There was
no way...She had to be sure he was okay! "C’mon,
Margaret, let’s go!"she called to the woman who was as worried about her
boss as she was about her own. They
exited into the balmy spring night, fearing what news they’d get when they
entered the hospital.
was nearly dizzy watching him pace back and forth, waiting for news on his boss
and close friends. As she watched,
he stumbled, then went down. "Sam!" she cried, leaping from her chair and
kneeling beside him, gently cradling his head in her lap.
sat beside his terrified daughter, his leg propped up on a stool.
The cane he’d been given to use was nearby, and a prescription was in
his pocket, but he wasn’t about to tell anyone about that.
"Leo! You’re okay!" Margaret cried as she rushed into the
he replied quietly.
Josh?" Donna demanded as she dashed in. But
she didn’t like the look on Leo’s face when she asked.
Mallory?" he demanded as he looked around.
sir," a nurse warned him. "Everything’s
Seaborn, you have a concussion," the doctor said in the usual oddly calm voice
that made people despise workers of his profession very often.
"Did you hit your head during the shooting?"
We need to keep you back here for a little while."
okay. Her father’s out with her
had his ways of getting what he wanted, whether it be information or admittance.
Sometimes it was charm, sometimes wheelin’ and dealin’, but it always
sometimes, even getting what he "wanted" wasn’t really what he wanted.
He’d gotten admittance to the area by the door where CJ was…but as he
stared through the doors, he couldn’t take anymore.
Tears began to crawl down his cheeks, slowly at first, then more, until
he could barely see. "Great job,
Concannon," he muttered. "You
shouldn’t have come in here." But
he knew he wouldn’t have been able to take the sitting in the waiting room and
wondering like everyone else.