“It happened?”

“Yeah.”

“President needs a speech?”

“Half hour?”

“Got it.”

“Good.” Leo started to leave. “Oh, and stress the President’s sympathy to the families…Word is a couple are already dead and there’s more at the hospital.”

“Got it, Leo.”

“Just making sure. Sheesh.”

“Half hour, Leo, don’t worry.”

~*~*~*~

The President hung up his phone, feeling as though he’d aged 10 years in the past ten minutes. Less was more when it came to information on destruction and devastation and violence. He considered a moment before walking the few yards to stick his head into Leo’s office. “Leo, go get Sam then come back here, would you?”

“Yes, Sir.” Leo headed off and returned a few minutes later. “You wanted to see us?”

“Sit, both of you,” he instructed. They did. Leo was trying to read Jed’s expression, Sam looked vaguely worried but probably figured it was some foreign dispute. “I found out which school it was.”

“And…?”

“Clearlake Elementary,” the President said quietly. Leo stared at him as though he’d grown another head, his jaw hanging, mouth dry. Sam squeezed his eyes shut and went rigid in his seat. “I don’t know about Mal specifically…”

“Shots at 11:27…She was leading her class back from gym…” Sam whispered. He’d memorized her schedule awhile back. His jaw was clenched, his hand balled tightly in fists. “They have Social Studies at 11:30…lunch at noon…” His knuckles were turning white, his fists shaking inadvertantly.

“Toby will finish the speech, there’s a car waiting downstairs to take you two over to the hospital.”

Leo looked as though he was gonna say something, then just nodded. “Sam?” he asked gently. The young man didn’t move. “Sam, let’s go.” It took the President gently shaking Sam’s shoulder before Sam snapped out of his trance enough to stand and walk mutely with Leo down the hall to the elevator, then out to the car.

They reached the crowded emergency room waiting area and Leo immediately spotted Jenny pacing in an area of about four steps in size. They made a beeline for her. “Any news?” Leo asked.

“They brought her in…She was shot in the chest…as she told her kids to get down…” Leo hugged her tightly as she cried against his shoulder, and Sam suddenly felt out of place.

He found himself wandering down a hallway, and as he passed a trauma room, a flash of reddish hair caught his eye. He stared in through the doors and had no doubts who it was. The monitors had been turned off, meaning exactly one thing.

“Are you family?”

Sam turned to face the doctor who’d asked. “What?”

“Are you family?” she asked again in a gentle voice.

“I…yeah,” he answered without really thinking.

“Do you want to see her?” He nodded. The doctor led him through the double-doors. “Take as long as you need. Does she have more family out in the waiting room?”

“Her parents. Leo and Jenny McGarry.”

“Okay,” she said, starting to leave. “I’m sorry.”

Sam walked over to the gurney. A white sheet had been drawn up to her chin, leaving only her head exposed. Choking back tears, he whispered “I love you, Mallory,” and realized with startling suddenness that it was the first time he’d ever said that to her. Slowly, gently, he lowered his head and kissed her softly. “…Thy lips are warm,” he whispered sadly, like Juliet after waking up to find her lover dead beside her. He couldn’t stand to be there anymore with the shell of his love. “Goodbye,” he whispered, then turned and left.

He passed through the waiting area, where Leo and Jenny were trying to console each other. Leo saw him go by. “Sam, listen -“

“I know.”

“Mallory was -“

“I said I know, Leo!” He immediately felt remorseful. “Leo, I’m sorry, but I…I’ve gotta get outta here.” He dashed out of the emergency room as though the hounds of Hades were at his heels, hailed a cab, and went back to the White House.

He walked into his office. ”Do you by any chance like opera?”

He looked around. He’d heard her voice, as clear as day, but it was impossible. It…It was his office, that was it. The memories from that room were haunting him.

But it was no better anywhere else. In the communications bullpen, he saw her there in the doorway, her red hair done neatly, wearing the little red dress from when they’d gone to the opera. And next to the Roosevelt Room, it was the first conversation they’d had. ”I’m sorry to be rude, but are you a moron?

He passed Leo’s door. "You stood there and argued with me…” Even in his mind, she sounded slightly amazed.

Unable to take anymore, he slid to the floor, eyes squeezed shut, hands clapped over his ears to try and block out her voice, rocking back and forth as he sobbed quietly.

~*~*~*~

President Bartlet slumped in his chair. Leo had called, saying he’d put Jenny to bed - she was so distraught. Jed could only imagine how Sam was as well. He left the Oval Office and heard a slight gasping sob. He turned to see Sam huddled against the wall.

He sat down beside his young speech writer. Didn’t speak, didn’t move to comfort him, just sat. After a little bit, Sam looked up. “Mr. President! I’m sorry -“ He started to scramble to his feet, but the President’s hand on his arm stopped him. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said again, more quietly.

“It’s okay. You should go home.”

“I can’t, sir.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Because I need to try to focus on something other than the…the… And I have a much better chance of doing that here. So if you’re done with me, sir, I need to go help Toby so you’re not cursing out the shooters on the Press Conference.”

“Not this time, Sam. You’re too close to it, you need to go home.”

“All due respect, Mr. President, but I would really rather stay.”

The President sighed. “All right. But my door’s open any time. And when you start to try to deal with it, I know of at least a few people around here who’d be willing to help.”

~*~*~*~

Sam returned to his apartment later than usual that night. He’d planned it that way. It wasn’t as if he’d be falling asleep any time soon. He saw his answering machine’s flashing red light. Pressing play, he froze. “Hey, Sam, it’s me. My class is at gym, I wasn’t sure if you’d have gone yet ‘cause I know how much your schedule goes haywire sometimes. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go to dinner tomorrow? Call me when you get in if I haven’t already talked to you. Bye!”

Hearing the voice of the recently deceased was beyond bizarre and utterly heart-breaking for Sam. He fell back onto his couch, shaking with a force that rivaled that of an epileptic seizure.

He awoke the next day at 2 in the afternoon to a repeated THUD! on the door. Dragging himself from the couch - where he’d assumably passed out the night before from sheer emotional exhaustion - Sam answered the door to find Josh on the other side of it. “Hey Sam…you look like shit,” Josh said in his usual tactful way. Sam didn’t say anything - he knew he looked horrible, like death warmed over maybe? He was still wearing his suit from the previous day, and while it had looked nice the day before, it now just looked as though he’d slept in it - and rightfully so. His hair fell in front of his face, his eyes were red and bloodshot, and his normally smiling, boyish face needed a shave. “I was sent to come check on you.”

“By whom?”

Josh nearly snickered at the fact that, bad as he was, Sam was still grammatically correct. “The President, Toby, CJ, Cathy, Leo -“

“Leo’s back at work?”

“He insisted on coming in for a couple hours.”

“How is he?”

“He looks a little better than you, but still not great.”

"I should probably…go in there, right?”

Josh shrugged. “If you want. There’s a bunch of flowers on your desk, I think Leo wants to see you…”

“He wants to see me?” Sam looked puzzled. “Why?”

“To be able to talk to someone who’s going through the same thing he is.”

“Mallory made him strong,” Sam blurted out. “She didn’t even have to say anything, just the fact that she was there…He stopped drinking because he was so afraid of accidentally hurting…”

“He’s okay, Sam.”

“Just…” He sighed. “Give me fifteen minutes, I’ll head back with you. C’min, make coffee, whatever, I’ll be back.” Sam headed to his bathroom and turned on the shower after shucking off his suit. His own voice echoed in his mind this time. "I went to the gym, rode the bike, showered and shaved. Even got my shoes shined too! Know why? I’m going to the Beijing Opera tonight. I expect it will be excrutiating, but I’m gonna do it anyway.”

Great, he thought, Now it’s my own mind against me. He thudded his head gently against the tile that covered the wall and silently willed the torturous voices of the past to die…anything so they’d leave him alone.

~*~*~*~

“Come in,” Leo said in monotone at the faint knock on his office door.

Margaret pushed open the door. “Sam’s here to see you…”

“Yeah, send him in.” Leo set his glasses on the desk and leaned back against his chair.

Sam poked his head in. “Leo?”

“Hello, Sam. Go ‘head and come in.”

“Okay.” He obliged quietly and shut the door behind him. ”He’s in favour of school vouchers, Dad…”

“Sam?” Leo asked as Sam suddenly went pale and gripped the door handle as support.

”Mallory said she always asks her father’s permission before having lunch with fascists.” “Go away,” Sam whispered to the memories, not realizing he was speaking out loud. “God, just leave me alone…” He dropped to his knees and doubled over as though he might be sick, slowly rocking back and forth.

The President chose that moment to walk in. “Leo, have you talked to…?” He trailed off as he saw Sam becoming nearly catatonic. “Margaret!” he called through the door. “Get Abby. Tell her to bring the medical kit.”

Abby arrived within minutes. “Jed? Are you okay?” Jed just nodded toward Sam. “Dear God,” she whispered. “Sam?” she knelt down beside him. “Sam, can you hear me?” He continued rocking but visibly nodded. “I’m gonna give you a sedative to calm you down, then take you to your office and have you lay down on the couch, okay?” Another nod.

“It’s like something out of ‘Rain Man’,” Leo whispered. Of all the messed up people he’d seen, including in the war and after, this unnerved him most of all. The sedatives kicked in a few minutes later, and Abby helped Sam stand, then led him to his office. She waited until he was asleep on the couch before leaving, giving instructions to Cathy.

“I want someone outside the room at all times. Anything odd goes on, anything even remotely strange, I want to hear about it immediately, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

~*~*~*~

The sky was dreary two days later, as if God Himself was about to cry as the motorcade procession rode through the streets to the cemetary. It was chilly and threatened rain, matching most of their moods.

At the burial, the Senior Staff plus Margaret clustered together, the First Family watched from the middle of a Secret Service pack, and Leo held Jenny close to him protectively, silent tears flowing without shame. All of them were as near to each other as they could be, taking comfort in the sight of each other, silently reminding themselves that, as horrible as their loss was, not everyone was gone.

Sam, on the other hand, stood off by himself, unable to stand the sympathetic, worried eyes of his friends any longer. He noticed a small girl staring at him, but didn’t anything of it. With a final “Amen”, the burial service ended. Sam started to leave as tears clouded his eyes so badly he couldn’t see straight, but the girl caught up with him. She looked maybe 8 or so, but something in her eyes was old and tired-looking. “You work in the White House, right?”

“Yes…”

“You gave us the tour and didn’t know what you were talking about…”

“Yes. I’m guessing you were in her class?” There was no need to say her name, it wasn’t as if it was in debate.

“Yeah. Only at least half the class came. I wasn’t going to because I knew it’d just make me upset, but I felt I owed her so much already this was the absolutely least I could do.” Her blue eyes with the oldness were downcast, probably adding to the rivers that had already flown down her cheeks.

“Owed her?” Something about this girl intrigued him. He normally was ready to run from kids, but she seemed…different. On nearly the same level as he was. Like someone who’d lived through a war.

“She was the only one who would talk to me at school. The other kids said I talked like I was trying to prove I was smart and used big words to just try to sound superior…But Ms. O’Brian told me it wasn’t something to be ashamed of, the fact that I was smart…”

“Kasey! We’re leaving!” a woman with blondish hair called from down the sidewalk.

“I’ve gotta go,” the girl said.

“Well, Kasey, it was nice talking to you. I should be on my way as well.”

“I, um…” She bit her lip and looked down, then back up at him. “Could I talk to you sometimes?”

Sam was slightly surprised. “I…If you want…Tell you what. Next time you’re near the White House, stop by. Tell the guards you’re there to see Sam Seaborn and they’ll have me okay it and you can hang out with me, okay?”

“Okay.” She smiled weakly.

“Kasey!” The woman called again.

“Gotta go…G’bye, Mr. Seaborn.” She dashed off toward her rapidly annoyed mother.

Sam stared after her. Yes, there was something very strange about Kasey, very strange indeed. ((And if I had a dollar for every time I’d heard that one…-KMD))

~*~*~*~

Leo’s kitchen held more food than had been served at the most recent state dinner. “Why is it,” Sam asked as he got himself some lasagna even though he didn’t feel like eating, “that people always bring food when someone dies?”

“Who knows?” CJ asked, eyeing a positively decadent chocolate chip cake. “I think Mom still has food in the freezer from when dad died, and that was almost 7 years ago!” She smiled and moved closer to him. “How you holding up?”

He sighed. “I’m going insane.”

“I know the feeling.”

“No, I mean…Nevermind.”

Leo walked up. “So who was that little girl you were talking to?”

“At the thing? A girl from Mallory’s class…Kasey something…”

“Kasey?”

“You know her?”

“No - Mal used to talk about her. ‘The Old Soul’.”

“Really? What’d she say?”

“Kasey’s in a couple of the gifted classes, she’s really ahead in everything, but the administration’s standard response is that the smart kids should get no special attention. It annoyed Mallory, so she would start giving Kasey extra little things to do, let her challenge her mind, so long as she took the regular tests.” Leo smiled fondly, and Sam guessed he was remembering the conversation he’d had with Mallory where she’d said that or a time when Mallory had been in a similar situation. She was so smart, it wouldn’t have surprised him…

”Don’t play dumb with me, Sam.”

”No, honestly, Mallory, I AM dumb, most of the time I’m playing smart.”

“Sam?” Leo asked. Sam had frozen again. “Sam, c’mon, snap outta it.” Sam blinked back tears misting in his eyes.

“Sorry,” he said quietly.

“Are you okay? I mean, you keep going completely out of it.”

“Yes,” Sam replied quickly.

“Sam -“ Leo started gently, but was interrupted by Josh.

“Leo? I’m sorry, but Jenny’s upset again, the President’s trying to calm her down but she’s asking for you…”

“Damn,” he said quietly. “Keep an eye on Sam, would you?” he whispered to Josh, who nodded, before dashing off to find his wife.

The plan would’ve worked fine, had it not been for Sam’s insistence that he didn’t need a babysitter, and the fact that Margaret wanted to ask Josh something. Sam found himself slowly wandering through the house until he came to a room that made him completely lose it.

He could tell by the white lacy sheets, the shelves of books that were only partially empty, and the overall content of the room who it had once belonged to. Mallory had said that her parents never changed the room she’d grown up in, even when she’d left for college, she’d stay back there from time to time. He sat down on her bed and breathed in, and was certain the room still smelled like her favourite perfume. Looking around at the piece of Mallory he’d never seen before, but feeling as though he’d known it forever, he began to break down again. The room still looked like she lived there, even though she hadn’t for so long…maybe because the things hadn’t been moved out - or they’d been moved back in at some point - and it was still her room, unlike his which had been turned into a study after he’d left home. He suspected that Leo and Jenny would never have the heart to change it now, that the door would remain closed so they wouldn’t have to think of packing up what remained of her life and pack it in the attic.

“Sam?” He looked up and saw Toby standing in the doorway. “I assume that I would be right in saying you’re not doing too well.” Sam nodded and the tears flowed faster. He hurried to swipe them away, but new ones fell. Toby crossed the room. “This was hers?” Sam nodded again. Toby sat down on the bed and Sam continued to sob until eventually, Toby - with an attack of his big-brotherly instinct - put his arms around his deputy and allowed Sam to cry into his shoulder.

For a few minutes, neither one spoke and silence filled the room, punctuated by Sam’s occasional choking sob. “I don’t pretend to understand what you’re going through - Losing Andi can’t have even been close - But I expect that it will get easier with time as is usually the case,” Toby said in a low, even voice. Sam nodded weakly against his shoulder. “And no one expects you to be completely fine overnight. But we’re all here in case you…y’know, want to talk to someone.” He was rapidly feeling even less comfortable with the situation, but he didn’t leave. “I hear tell that Leo asked CJ to do ‘The Jackal’, try and make people smile, if only for a minute or two…I personally find smiling to be a little overrated, but it’s not up to me.” Sam choked out a slight laugh. “Wanna go back to the party?”

Sam sighed and straightened, releasing his boss, something for which Toby was thankful. “Okay,” he said weakly. “Let me take one more stab at it.”

~*~*~*~

“You’re sure you’re okay with me doing this, Leo?”

“Yes, CJ, I’m sure.”

“Okay. I mean, if you say so.” She shrugged and put the CD into the CD player. Strains of “The Jackal” began to fill the room as the crowd all stopped their conversation and turned to watch. Sam and Toby emerged from Mallory’s room into the decent-sized group.

“Did I ever tell you about the man who changed my life? The one I thought - oh, when I saw him walk in the back o’ that bar, all tall and lean with those broad shoulders, sweet lips…I knew that I had…I had died and gone to chocolate heaven,” the song began as CJ did her thing. Sam could see everyone smiling a little, even a faint smile on Jenny’s lips.

And let me tell you, if you’ve never seen CJ do ‘The Jackal’, then you’ve never seen Shakespeare the way it was MEANT to be done.”

“Oh God,” Sam whispered. “Not again.”

“He had a real deep voice with white frilly jeans, his shoes were always shiny…Long slender fingers manicured perfectly, the man wore $800 Italian suits straight from - I dunno, what would you call it? Malon or Rome or someplace like that. I knew it wasn’t local. You guys understand what I’m saying? Well, the Jackal….”

“Toby, I’m just gonna…go, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, clearly more concentrated on CJ than his companion.

Sam headed out and got a cab back to the White House. He found it odd that, in all the information they’d received - including maps - about the shooting, they’d never heard a motive of the gunmen. They were in custody, but he knew they’d already talked to lawyers…Once in his office, he picked up the phone and started working his contacts.

~*~*~*~

“Mr. President?” Sam stepped into the Oval Office that night at 9:00. “Am I disturbing you?”

“No, Sam, of course not. Please, c’min, sit down.” The President gestured to the couch, and Sam sat. “What’s on your mind? I noticed you left Leo’s sorta early…”

“At 11:27, two sixth-grade boys walked into the gym entrance and proceeded through the hallway to the band and choir rooms, which were empty. Next was the gym, but the gym classes were switching, so no one was there either. The first people they saw were fourth graders and their teacher on the way back from gym class. After shooting the teacher and a student, the gunmen moved on, wounded a hall monitor, who then alerted the office and ergo the police found out about it. The shooters didn’t know that, though, and went to their own classroom - or rather, the room where they had math. The sixth graders, apparently, change classes. They boys went to their math room and shot the teacher and about half the class before being taken into custody. Their motive, it seems, was imaginary numbers.”

“Imaginary numbers?”

“Their teacher assigned them a section in the book to read on imaginary numbers, and the majority of the kids did badly on the test. Now, by badly, I mean got C’s and less. A lot of times, teachers would then schedule a retest, but the teacher - Paul Applebaum’s his name - exercised his right and said no. This class, used to being the perfectionists whose parents grounded them if they got less than an A, got mad and the gunmen decided to get even. 13 were wounded, 7 other killed, over 200 shots fired, the boys face up to 20 years imprissonment, plus counselling.” Pause. “I just thought I’d tell you all I’d just learned, Sir.” He turned to leave. “Oh, and Mr. President?”

“Yes, Sam?”

“Don’t tell Leo.” Another pause. “Who knew imaginary numbers were such trouble?” With a wry smile, he left.

~*~*~*~

“Sam?” Cathy poked her head in.

“Yeah, Cathy?”

“Someone’s here to see you…Kasey Mullaney?”

“Kasey? Oh, yeah, send her in.” Sam tired rapidly to straighten the outstanding amount of clutter on his desk. A minute later, Kasey appeared in the doorway.

“Hello, Mr. Seaborn, I hope you don’t mind I took you up on your offer…”

“I don’t mind at all. Just one thing.”

“What?”

“Call me Sam, would you? When you say Mr. Seaborn, I look around for my father.” Kasey grinned a very young-looking grin, the first indication that she was under the age of about 15. “I was about to go get some lunch, so if you’d wait about a minute you could join me.”

“Okay…if I won’t be in the way…”

“No, it’s fine.” He smiled at her and took one last look at his desk, making sure he didn’t have anything else important to finish. Kasey looked at the pages that were scattered across the top of the piles. “Whatcha looking at?”

“A map of my school,” she said, staring intently at the symbols on it. “We were right here…” she pointed to a circled area on the map. “We’d been playing dodgeball, and Ms. O’Brian came to get us and take us back to social studies…” Her voice got quieter. “We turned the corner by the gym and there were two guys in all black…masks…long coats...and they - out of nowhere, these guns fired…Ms. O’Brian fell, and I…I knelt beside her…” tears were running openly down her cheeks, and Sam fought to keep his back. “There was blood, so I told a couple of the kids in my class to go get help…All the girls were running away because they were afraid of the blood…Billy was down, too, but his friends were all over there…he got hit in the arm…” She paused, as though unsure of whether or not she should continue. “She was crying because it hurt, so I tried to calm her down…She kept saying names…”

“What names?” Sam asked in a voice just above a whisper.

“Her father…Her mother…Jed…the last one she said was Sam…And something about a speech and the White House…Birthday cards and China and the Opera…” Sam couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. “And then…it was silent…so silent…And the paramedics took her. They thought I’d been shot too, but it wasn’t my blood, it was - “ Her voice caught and the next word sounded strangled. “…her’s…” She started to sob, and Sam instinctively did what he knew Mallory would’ve - he knelt down and hugged her tightly as his own tears rolled down his cheeks. “That was why I came over to you at the cemetary…I remembered you worked at the White House and your name…I knew you were who she meant…” She sobbed against his shoulder, and then she pulled back as a thought occurred to her. “You were in love with her, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I was,” he whispered. “How’d you know so much?”

“I don’t know…But I can see it in your eyes…”

~*~*~*~

“I’m not wild about this, Leo.”

“Oh, and it’s good for me?” he muttered as he pushed open the door of what had been Mallory’s apartment. “But it’s gotta be done soon.”

“Yeah.” Sam fell silent as they entered. It seemed wrong to speak in her apartment for some reason. He’d seen it before a few times - being the gentleman he was, he always saw her safely to the door - and inside twice - both of which they’d ended up making out on the couch, but Sam felt no need to bring that up. But there were so many aspects of the apartment he’d never noticed - like all the pictures on the shelf in the living room.

He stared intently at them and could literally follow Mallory back in time, watching her age in reverse. There were pictures of her and her parents at her high school and college graduations, her friends, all in cap and gown, and a rather old picture, in which she looked maybe two and was being held up by Leo, who was in an Air Force uniform.

“The day I came back from ‘Nam,” Leo said quietly, coming up behind Sam. “I’d found out she was on the way a week before my number came up…And the entire time, I just kept thinking ‘I have to come back alive to my kid - eventually give my daughter away on her wedding day or watch my son hit his first little league homerun…” He was rapidly tearing up, and Sam finally began to notice the pain and agony Leo was going through. He’d lost his only child that fateful day. “Well, c’mon, let’s get started.” Leo hauled some empty boxes from the hall closet and handed one to Sam, who headed over to the stereo setup. He was amazed by the number of soundtracks the collection contained. “Go ahead and put something on if you want,” Leo called distractedly across the room, as though he’d read Sam’s mind. Sam decided to go for luck o the draw and listen to whatever was in there already. Strains of “O Mio Babbino Caro” filled the room. Leo smiled. “She got her love of opera from her mother.” He continued working, humming along.

An hour or so later, most of the living room had been packed. They managed to keep it together by focusing on getting the work done, not what it was or why they were doing it. The CD switched and Sam froze.

The choice was mine and mine completely
I could have any prize that I desired;
I could burn with the splendor of the brightest fire
Or else, or else I could choose time.

Remember, I was very young then,
And a year was forever and a day
So what use could 50, 60, 70 be?
I saw the light and I was on my way
And how I lived, how they shone
But how soon the lights were gone.

Sam’s eyes stung and his vision blurred as tears began to flow. “Hey, Sam, could you toss me a box?” Leo asked. “Sam?” Sam turned to him and silently handed over a box. Leo took it and set it on the couch. “It’s okay, Sam…”

“No, it’s not, Leo, but I’ve gotta learn to deal with it.” Sam nodded firmly. “We’re about done in hear, I’m gonna go start on another room.” He headed into the bedroom and started pulling clothes out of the closet and putting them in boxes as he cried at seeing the life of the woman he loved packed away in cartons.

~*~*~*~

Leo knocked on the door of Sam’s office two days later and pushed open the door. “Sam? You got a minute?”

Sam set down his pen. “Sure. What’s up?”

He walked in and stood at the side of his desk. “I’ve been thinking about this, and I owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

“For trying to force you two apart.”

“Leo…”

“The opera, the position paper…I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, really, Leo.”

“It was mean and in spite and the idea that no one was good enough for my daughter…I wanted her to stay my little girl forever and I saw you as changing that…Anyway. I’m sorry.”

~*~*~*~

Cathy carried Sam’s mail in and set it on his desk. Sitting on top was a square envelope, like for a card, with the address scrawled in cursive across the front. Curious, he opened it and pulled out a card. The front was decorated with flowers and the words “In Memoriam”. On the inside were pictures of the seven who were killed in the shooting, including Mallory…below it read “In memory of the shooting victims, there will be a service in honour of their lives, held this Friday at 12:00 in the Clearlake Elementary School Auditorium.” Below the computer-printed lines was a note hand-written in sprawling script. “If you don’t have a meeting and you have free time then, I’d like it if you were there. I’m in charge of the tribute to Ms. O’Brian, and I think you might like it. Sincerely, Kasey Marie Mullaney. PS - Please tell Ms. O’Brian’s parents that they would be more than welcome if they want to come also.”

~*~*~*~

The auditorium of Clearlake Elementary School was nearly full as Sam and Leo walked in. Jenny had said she’d rather not go. “I’m finally starting to get it together, Leo…I need to learn to move on…” she said, and Leo’d agreed, but also agreed he’d go with Sam to the thing. They sat in the back of the darkening seats as the service began.

They began with an opening message from the principal, then went in order, starting with the youngest student, a first grader. Each memorial was a speech given by someone who was close to the deceased. The younger victims’ eulogies - of sorts - were given by teachers, the older ones given by friends, and then Mallory’s. Sam watched as Kasey walked nervously to the small podium, a speech clutched in her hand. “Ms. O’Brian was a great teacher. She had a way of teaching that made you want to learn more - or, at least, it made ME want to learn. She always looked out for us and was never too busy to listen to what we had to say. She taught me a lot - about everything from history to life lessons…to now teaching me how to say goodbye.” She paused. “I’ve never been good at expressing myself in words, so now I’m going to do something else.”

“What’s she going to do?” Leo leaned over and whispered to Sam, who was trying not to come apart.

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know, she wouldn’t tell me.”

Mallory’s class filed up on the stage behind Kasey. “I created an arrangement for a song and taught my class to sing it…Ms. O’Brian always told us to stand up for what we believed in…And I know she liked the book that this song’s musical was based on…’Make them Hear You’ from Ragtime.” She stepped back to join the front row of her classmates.

Go out and tell our story
Let it echo far and wide,
Make them hear you, make them hear you.
How justice was our battle
And how justice was denied
Make them hear you, make them hear you.

The voices were young, the harmonies few and simple. But it was beautiful all the same.

And say to those who blame us for the way we chose to fight
That sometimes there are battles which are more than black and white
And I could not put down my sword when justice was my right
Make them hear you, make them hear you

Go out and tell our story to your daughters and your sons
Make them hear you, make them hear you.
And tell them in our struggle we were not the only ones
Make them hear you, make them hear you

Proclaim it from your pulpit, in your classroom with your pen
Teach every child to raise his voice and then, my brothers, then
Will justice be demanded by ten million righteous men?
Make them hear you
When they hear you
I’ll be near you
Again

A chill ran down Sam’s spine as he swore he could see Mallory standing behind Kasey. Maybe it really was like the song said - when the legacy was passed on, the person seemingly came back. It could happen…

At the end of the memorial, Kasey passed by in the aisle where Leo and Sam were shrugging into their coats. "Kasey," Sam called quietly. She turned at the sound of her name and smiled when she saw who it was.

“You made it!"

"Yes I did...the song was beautiful..."

She looked down. "Thanks. I just...I figured she would've liked it..." She bit her lip. "I have to go back with my class."

“Okay."

"I'll see you sometime, next week, maybe?" she asked with more than a slight tinge of hope in her voice.

"Yeah, sure."

"I've gotta go."

"Okay."

"Bye, Sam." She walked solemnly off, a very sad, pensive sort of look about her.

Sam turned to Leo. "I notice you didn't acknowledge that I was here," Leo pointed out, and Sam gave a weak, sheepish smile. But Sam noticed the deeper look in Leo's eye.

"What's up?" he asked gently.

"It's strange...When she talks...something about her sounds so much like Mallory..."

"What is it?"

"I don't know. It's...just this feeling I get..."

"He's right, y'know," a heart-wrenchingly familiar voice said from behind him. Sam turned and saw Mallory, looking as beautiful as ever, standing behind him and Leo, just about centered betweent ehm. "I noticed it too, something familiar...I think it's what she intrigued me so much." Mallory smiled. "Y'know, the part of this I don't know that I"ll ever get used to is that I read people's thoughts now..." She smiled sadly. "I miss being alive, really..." Sam looked like he would say something, but Mallory gently put a finger to his lips, sending chills through him. "But it's gonna be okay, Sam. In time, you'll move on - I want you to - and it won't be so hard. And I'll be watching you, helping out from time-t-time...Not exactly a guardian angle, more a...your Guardian Mallory. Everyone should have one." She smiled at him. "I've gotta go."

"...Don't..." Sam whispered aloud, which drew the attention of Leo.

"...And he hears the voices again," Leo muttered. "C'mon, Sam, let's go."

"I have to, Sam," she said quietly. She kissed him and his hair seemed to stand on-end. "Remember, I'm your Guardian Mallory...Always here to watch you back." She started to walk away, then vanished into thin air.

"Sam. C'mon." Leo put his hand on Sam's sleeve.

"I see dead people," Sam laughed. "Like the kid in the movie..." Sam laughed, and Leo just tried to pretend he didn't know the lunatic.

~*~*~*~

Less than a month later, Sam was doing better - more or less. He didn't cry himself to sleep anymore, a definite step in the right direction. Sometimes he swore he could feel her gently stroking his cheek when he woke up in the night, but that actually - believe it or not - made him feel more at ease.

Leo was throwing himself into work more than usual, but sofar as anyone - even Margaret - could tell, he was staying away from the bottle. Not to say Margaret didn't ask...and get everyone else to ask as well.

Kasey stopped by the White Hosue from time to time, and she'd become a sort of little sister figure - at least to Sam, and Leo had a soft spot for her as well.

There really was something about her that was pure Mallory, and while they all tried to figure out what it was, she was also just a nice, responsible little girl, so it wasn't as though she was a threat to the good of the nation every time she came to visit. And then came the red-letter day.

Literally. When Sam tore off the page of his little calendar to reveal the date, the major even twas written in red letters: "Mallory's Birthday." And he could tell he was right when, at the Senior Staff meeting, Leo lookd more grim than usual. And disappeared immediately after, muttering something about roses.

On his lunch break, Sam got into his car and started driving, not sure where he'd end up, but really knowing where he'd have to go at SOME point that day. And he arrived there a few minutes later.

He hadn't been to her grave since the day of the burial, and it was amazing how much colder - literally and figuratively - it looked with a light snow covering the top of each headstone and snow still falling. Even so, he knelt down in front of the stone of his beloved Mallory. It seemed everyone had brought something recently. Pink roses from Leo, a couple homemade cards by the kids in her class, more roses from the President and Abby...he guessed it was a sort of thing with Mallory.

Sam smiled sadly, for he had no gift. "Hey," he said quietly, hoping his "Guardian Mallory" was listening. "Sorry I didn't bring you anything...it actually would've probably been an engagement ring had you been here, but who can say?" He tried very hard not to break down. "I miss you, Mallory...God, I miss you, it's...the pain is still so bad, I don't know how I can stand it...And then everyday I go and I do things at work that I don't understand why it's so important anymore. I guess once you've lost the one thing you love you fail to see what other people see as important." The tears flowed freely, and he didn't bother to wipe them away. "So, um...I guess just know - wherever you are - that I love you and I mmss you and I'm sorry you didn't know that better when you were alive."

He couldn't stay there. Not with all the memories and the tears echoing around him. He had to get out of there. He practically dashed to his car and jumped in, fumbling with his key and finally getting it to start. He pulled out into the street, his wheels slipping slightly in the snow.

He saw the lights too late. If he'd seen them sooner, he could've done something about it...but he didn't see them until the last minute. And then he saw nothing at all.

~*~*~*~

When next he saw, Mallory was standing above him. He was lying on his back on a bed, and she smiled at him. "Ready to go, there, Skipper?"

"M-Mallory?"

"Yes, Sam."

He blinked at her, then hugged her fiercely. "God, I missed you..."

She smiled sadly at him. "It's okay now, Sam, really...Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, not as such, no."

She smiled as he hopped off the bed and took her hand in his. "I still never understood what that phrase meant..." she stated as they walked off together, as they would be for all eternity.