Work Text:
January 21, 2006
12:01 AM
Manchester, NH
After his family left for the night, Jed Bartlet walked into his old study and saw an envelope on his desk. He picked it up and then immediately dropped it again like he had been burned. ‘Jed’ is written across it in Leo’s scrawling script.
Jed sits down at his desk and prays that the tears will be kept at bay so he can clearly read Leo’s last words to him. He sighs deeply and opens the envelope. It’s dated August 31, 2005.
Jed,
It’s been four days since I’ve been the vice-presidential candidate and I think I keep seeing you in the shadows. An outline of you who I want to run to but isn’t really there. That’s all I’ve wanted to do since this all happened you know, to run to you and celebrate and live.
I know why we can’t. I’m still not used to the amount of eyes on me but I’m learning. God, I hope I’m learning.
Jed, did you know that there are only two things in my life that have been irrevocably true? The first is our love, I know I shouldn’t write that down on paper in my handwriting but…I can’t help it. Hell, you’ll probably never even see this. I’ll probably end up burning this letter but I need to write it down. I love you, Jed. I’m so in love with you I don’t know how to function without you by my side. Trust me, Josh is a poor substitute for your company.
I can see you now telling me not to be such a sap, but I know you love that about me. The look in your eye gives you away every time.
The second thing I know to be true is this: I wouldn’t be here, the vice-presidential candidate, without you. This may have been Josh and Matt Santos’ crazy idea but it’s you who truly made this possible. Thank you, Jed, for trusting me and helping me build a life that is all the better with you in it.
Okay, I need to wrap this up; I can hear someone coming down the hall. Another meeting, another press event - it’s always something.
I’ll see you soon.
Yours,
Leo
Jed gently and carefully places the letter to one side and allows his head to fall into his hands.
The tears that have been threatening to come since he saw the envelope finally falling. This isn’t fair. None of this is fair. He wipes his eyes and thinks, the envelope hadn’t been sealed, has never been sealed, it was likely Leo stuffed this into a spare envelope, wrote his name on it so he wouldn’t forget what was inside, and set it someplace to burn later and forgot about it.
Jed feels a flush of gratitude, thank goodness Leo had kept this. Jed sits back and wonders if Mallory read it, it makes sense, with her avoiding him today. Jed can’t help but smile as he thinks about how that confrontation might’ve gone. He’s here though, if she ever wants to talk.
Jed re-reads the letter, fingers lightly tracing over the words and lingering on Leo’s signature, and feels a stab of guilt in his gut as he realizes why Leo probably wrote this letter. He had no other outlet, no other way of getting his feelings out, how scared he must’ve been that he would let a slip of the tongue in front of a roomful of reporters that would derail the campaign and cause a scandal.
Jed wishes he could go back, just those few months, and be there for Leo, to love him the way he deserved to be loved. To celebrate this career high together and not give a damn about what anyone would think.
Jed lets out a long sigh and opens a drawer in his desk, taking out a piece of paper and a pen, he starts writing his own letter, one that Leo will never read.
Leo,
Today, or rather yesterday now, was my last day of being President of the United States. I honestly don’t know how I feel about that. Thinking about my days open and endless is panic-inducing for me but you know that already. You know that I love to keep busy. I don’t know what I’m going to do, in the beginning, after we won reelection, I had a plan, did you know that? We were going to retire together, find a way for you to be in Manchester, and live happily ever after. It was a beautiful dream. (And yes, I know you would’ve hated it but I could’ve made you very happy).
Jed stops writing as the tears start up again and a few drop onto the paper. So much to say. So much he wished he could tell Leo while wrapped up in his arms but this letter is all he has the only way he can have this conversation now. Even if it’s a bit one-sided. Jed takes a deep breath and starts writing again.
Leo, I’m scared. Scared about the MS progressing, scared about the way Abbey looks at me these days, scared that I’m going to fade into being an irrelevant old man. The kids have the White House now and I wish we were together.
Abbey keeps looking at me with these big sad eyes when she thinks I’m not looking. Like she expects me to fall apart at any time, keel over from a broken heart, that the stress of losing you will bring on another attack. The attack. I wish she would stop looking at me like I’m a heartbeat away from my grave but it’s not like I can tell her that. She’s grieving too.
Jed takes a deep breath and gets out the rest of it as quickly as he can. Penmanship be damned.
It was always the three of us, you know? Of course, you know. Knew. You always knew. It’s been so long since it’s just been me and Abbey. It was us then before we could really settle into married life, Liz was on the way. Then Ellie. And finally, Zoey. And life happened. Medical school and teaching. Winning a Nobel Prize. Politics. Chairing medical boards. The Presidency. And now I feel like I’m starting down eternity with a woman, a partner, that I barely know. I think we were both counting on you to be here with us at the end of this journey.
I love you, Leo. I have so many regrets. So many things I wish I had said or done, but loving you is something I will never regret. Never. I swear it.
Faithfully yours.
Always.
Your Jed
Jed’s hands are shaking as he signs his name. The pen falls to the table, and he rests his head on his arms as the sobs he was holding back shake his body.
Abbey finds him hours later sitting in a leather chair watching the sun rise. Jed shares the letters with her and patiently waits as she reads them. Tears falling down her cheeks.
It wasn’t alright. It was never going to be alright. But at least Jed had this precious momento. Leo’s last words. And maybe, just maybe, he could live with that.