The Miracle Family
Rating: PG
Title: The Miracle Family
Fandom: West Wing
Character: Leo/Ainsley
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,441
Spoilers: For season seven, in vague general terms, but it’s AU
The first night after it happened, he woke up, drenched in sweat, mind full of images from his nightmares to find a blonde head resting against his side and a hand curled tightly around his. This was a surprise to Leo on two counts; not only because he didn’t remember falling asleep, but because she most definitely had a bed of her own, and this wasn’t it.
He knew at once that she wasn’t asleep, could tell from her breathing, from the many nights he’d stayed away, watching over her, watching her chest rise and fall, just because she was there and he could. The rhythm was slow when she was asleep, long inhalations and exhalations, accompanied by the occasional pout as she expelled as much air as she could from her body. Now, her breathing was faster, faster even than normal, as if she was anxious about something, as if some nightmare had invaded the sanctity of her bedroom, driven her into his.
He realised, somewhat belatedly, that that was exactly what had happened, lifted a hand and ran it gently over her soft blonde hair as if he was afraid she would crack and shatter. “Hey baby,” he whispered, his voice cracked from sleep and the sheer fatigue of the previous twenty-four and more hours. “What are you doing here?”
Ainsley’s eyes looked out at him from a four year old face that could have been Mallory’s, and the look in those eyes would have torn the heart right out of him if previous events hadn’t already done so. “Want Mommy,” she sniffed, before dropping her head to burrow it into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, hoping that by holding her tightly to him, he could stop any more fears from invading her tiny body.
“I know sweetie,” he told her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, battling against the lump in his throat. “I know.”
Evidently, Emily didn’t feel that he was taking her seriously enough, because there was another distinct sniffle. “Want Mommy,” she said again, and Leo was very glad that he wasn’t looking down at her, because he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to keep back his tears. And not because, as Ainsley often teased him, he spoiled Emily, and hated to deny her anything, though that was certainly true enough.
But this was the first time that she’d asked for something that he couldn’t give her.
“I know,” was all he could say. “I want Mommy too.”
Emily’s head popped up straight away, a light in her eyes that he was all too familiar with – Ainsley got the same look in her eyes any time they were discussing something and she sensed a weakness in his argument. Their daughter appeared to have inherited her mother’s gift for finding a chink in his armour, because hope filled her voice as she asked, “Go see Mommy?”
He opened his mouth, all ready to tell her no.
Then, almost before he had time to think about it, he was getting up out of bed, wondering why start breaking the habit of a lifetime now.
“Coop?”
The Secret Service Agent stationed outside his door jumped to his feet, looking not a bit surprised to see him there. “Yes, Mr Vice-President?”
“Can you get a car organised?” Leo felt a tug at the leg of his pyjama pants, looked down to find Emily grinning up at him. “We’re taking a little trip,” he concluded, ruffling her hair, pretending not to notice the smile on Coop’s face – everyone knew that Emily had the entire McGarry Secret Service detail wrapped around her little finger.
“Yes Sir.”
With that, Coop vanished, and Leo had just
enough time to find the clothes that he’d thrown on the floor scant hours
earlier before the car was ready. Picking Emily up, he wrapped her in a
blanket, electing to leave her pyjamas on her, and in short order, they were
speeding through the streets of
He tried to forget that twenty-four hours earlier, he’d travelled this same route, in a car much like this one. Now, however, he wasn’t holding his wife in his arms, the victim of a bullet meant for him, her skin pale and clammy, her blood staining his clothes. Now, he was holding their daughter, their little miracle child, the child who should never have been born, product of a relationship that should never have been.
He and Ainsley should never have started dating. Not so soon after his divorce from Jenny, not while she was working in the White House, not with all the differences between them. But love and common sense weren’t known to go hand in hand, and once they realised that they were in it for the long haul, they’d quietly moved in together, she’d quietly moved from the White House to private practice, and they’d gone on about their lives with nary a whisper.
Until he’d had his heart attack, and near tragedy had thrown a sharp spotlight onto his life. Pundits had analysed every aspect of their relationship, and there had been more than one ribald comment made about his medical condition around Washington dinner tables, but when nothing scandalous could be found, the press miraculously dropped the story and went away quietly, and mention of their wedding – organised quickly when they’d both realised they didn’t want to waste any more time – barely made a ripple on page seven of the Washington Post.
More attention had come their way a few months later, when he’d been announced as the Vice Presidential Nominee. Ainsley hadn’t been in town for the convention, hadn’t thought that she’d been needed, but they’d flown her in at the last minute, and the sight of her on stage holding his hand, smart red suit doing little to disguise the slight bulge of her belly, had caused more of a sensation than anything else that week. It had certainly, as Josh pointed out with an exuberant bounce, pre-empted any fears about Leo’s recovery, and Leo still, to this day, smiled whenever he remembered Ainsley’s pointed response to that observation.
There were pictures of the two of them on
Election Night, him lifting her off her feet when the networks called it for
For four years, he’d been waiting.
Twenty-four hours ago, it had almost happened.
Almost being the operative word, he reminded himself as they pulled up outside the back entrance of the hospital, and he made his way quickly through the corridors, still holding a by-now-slumbering Emily in his arms. She didn’t wake up as he walked, nor when he pushed open a door, nor even when he placed her gently down on the bed beside her mother.
She might not have stirred, but Ainsley did. She frowned as her eyes focussed on the rosy cheeks, the soft blonde hair, then smiled, the way she always smiled when she looked at Emily. Then she realised where she was, and her eyes flew open as she came fully awake, narrowing accusingly when they found Leo.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered accusingly, and he crossed to stand beside her, running a hand over her hair, just like it had run over Emily’s earlier on.
“We missed you.”
The words softened her glare momentarily, but only that. “We agreed Leo… she shouldn’t see me here… she’ll be afraid…”
He shook his head, cutting her off. “She’s more afraid not seeing you… she knows you were shot… but she doesn’t understand that you can be shot and be ok…” Miraculously, the bullet that had shattered her shoulder had missed anything vital, and while she would need physiotherapy, while the blood loss had been pronounced, her life had never been in any real danger. “She needs to be with you Ainsley… and so do I.”
She was battling with her emotions, he could see it, and in seconds, her eyes relaxed, lips unpursed, and her uninjured hand reached up, ran over Emily’s hair. “I need you both too,” she whispered, holding her hand out to him. “Stay?”
He was already pulling up a chair. “Try sending me away.”