TITLE: All Come Undone

DISCLAIMERS: See part 1.


FEEDBACK: is a must have!

SPOILERS: General up through season 3, but some specific ones for 17 People.



Part (8/8)


"Sam, have a seat." Jed indicated the couch across from him. "How are you doing?"

"Fine sir."

Leo sat down next to the President. "Sam, the President has something he needs to tell you."

"Is this about our earlier discussion." He watched Leo carefully.


"Sam, about eleven years ago I went in for a routine eye exam and ended up being diagnosed with a course of relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis."

Sam just looked confused. "Relapsing-remitting?"

"Yes. What that means is I recover fully from each attack and I have a normal life expectancy. It's the good kind of MS, for lack of a better term. Secondary-progressive is the bad kind of MS."

"Can relapsing-remitting ever turn into...?"

Jed cut him off. "Secondary progressive? Yes, but unfortunately there is no way to predict when or if that will happen."

Sam began to rub his eyes. "So every time you have a physical, you're doctors are lying about this?"

"No, MS doesn't show up in a physical. I'm in remission; you would need an MRI to detect it. No one is lying."

"When you collapsed before the State of the Union last year?"

"I had an attack."

Sam wanted to get to his feet and pace, but his leg wouldn't cooperate with him. So instead he just leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "You need to tell the rest of the staff...and then talk to the counsel's office."

"I know."

"What about re-election?"

"Nothing's been decided yet."


"Sam, I have a wife and five children, two I which I'd like to live long enough to see grow up. I don't know what's going to happen."

"Mr. President..."

"Sam, go home. It's late and you look like hell. We're going to be having plenty of discussions about this as soon as I tell the rest of the Senior Staff."

He nodded his head, tired and defeated. "Yes sir." He used the crutches to get slowly to his feet. "Goodnight sir, Leo."

"Goodnight." They replied together. Leo glanced warily at the President. "I need to go."

"Go on. We'll deal with it tomorrow."


"Let's go home." Sam stood behind Cassie's desk and rested his hand on her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" She turned to look at him.

"Later, let's just go."

She knew something was wrong, but she also knew he didn't want to talk about it. "Alright."

When they got home she knew what he was going to do before he did it. Sam closed the apartment door behind them and pushed her against it. She could feel his fingers opening her blouse, fumbling with his left had to push it aside. He reached for her bra, but she stopped his hands. He looked at her desperately, and she found herself unable to deny him this. Cassie took his hand and led him into the bedroom, undressing them both along the way.


He gently pinned her wrists on either side of her head and it occurred to her once again that they should stop. His arm and leg were still weak and she wondered how much longer he was going to be able to support his body weight. But those thoughts were erased as he pushed her legs apart with his knees and slid inside her. She began to whimper as he sped up his movements. Cassie closed her eyes and wrapped her legs loosely around his waist, being careful not to touch his injured leg. She arched her body into his as she cried out. He pushed into her for a few more moments and then collapsed on top of her.

Cassie could feel his breath coming heavy and quick next to her ear. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." He replied in an annoyed tone.

She listened to Sam pant for a few more minutes and then roll away from her. She put her hand against his chest. "I'm sorry."

He used his good arm to touch her face. "I know."

"Now are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

He pulled her into his arms, wanting to feel her close to him. "Sylvia doesn't think I'll ever get all of the function back in my arm or leg. I'm always going to have the limp."

Cassie tilted her head to look into his eyes. "You're alive, that has to count for something."

"I know I should be grateful just to be alive, but..." He trailed off staring at the thick scar on his arm.

She traced it with her fingers. "You have scars...I have scars...but, we're both still alive and together."

"I know." He mimicked her actions with the scars on her stomach.

"There's something else, isn't there?" She shifted her body so she was lying across his chest. "What is it?"

"I know your father has MS."

He felt her shiver as he spoke. Sam pulled a blanket around her shoulders. "He told you?"


"I'm sorry. I couldn't tell you, I didn't really mean to lie."

He interlaced his fingers with hers. "I'm not mad at you.... He's going to tell the rest of the Senior Staff soon, tomorrow I guess."

"It's all going to hit the fan now." She sighed.

"I know."


The End.