I'll Stand By You

by: Cara

Disclaimer: None of this is mine, okay? Characters = Sorkin. Song = the Pretenders.

Category: Angst, Jed/Abbey

Spoilers: “Manchester,” teeny bit for “Night Five”

Rating: CHILD

Summary: “Nothing you confess could make me love you less ...”

Author's Note: Sequel to Wild Horses

Abbey POV

I woke up this morning before the sun was up. I had far too much to do to lie in bed next to my lump of a husband. Oh, I tried. Sometimes I think I’d sell my soul to the devil for more than five hours of sleep per night. But I had to get up; I could feel the work pressing on my chest like a huge boulder. Fitting, since I’ve been stoned by the press so many times I’ve lost count.

I almost like the Residence before everyone is up and moving. There’s a calm there that I appreciate. Still, it’s bitter. It sort of reminds me of what we’ve lost.

Jed grunts and turns over as I start to dress. I can’t help but let him become the center of my consciousness for as much time as I dare. If I think about him all the time I’ll have to think about the things I’ve said to him.

I still think I’m right; I still think that this job will kill him. But the hard lesson I’ve had to learn is that maybe he’s fully prepared for that to happen. No one knows him better than I do, and frankly I’m a bit scared and annoyed that I didn’t understand that earlier.

He’s in his element here, despite the lack of sleep and the constant twenty-hour days. My husband needs to make a difference. He’s forever trying to show his father what he can do, and he doesn’t quite comprehend that there’s no power on earth that can give him the absolution he needs. And he’s so full of pride and pain that he won’t talk to anyone. Not even me. And I’m not afraid to admit that also scares me. Are we such strangers now?

How ironic that before all this Jed wanted to be a priest, when absolution is the one thing he can’t give himself.

I’m fully dressed now, and I open my briefcase to make sure I’ve got the day’s releases and whatnot. But on top of the press release about the latest publicity appearance, there’s a small folded sheet of paper.

Controlling a what-the-hell? impulse, I unfold it and read. The simple words on the page are very deceptive; they seem innocuous and disguise a world of meaning. No sweeping exits or offstage lines could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind. Hm. Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.

I’m a little shocked to find I’m tearing up. It’s simple, elegant and, though it’s not his own words, heartfelt. God bless him, Jed still knows how to get to me.

So I respond in kind. Grabbing a sheet of the same scratch paper, I think a minute and write down the lyrics to a song I was listening to with Ellie that, in a word, touched me.

Oh, why do you look so sad?
The tears are in your eyes
Come on and come to me, now
Don’t be ashamed to cry
Let me see you through, cause I’ve seen the dark side too
When the night falls on you & you don’t know what to do
Nothing you confess could make me love you less
I’ll stand by you ...

I look around, thinking where to put it. Finally I hit on the idea. I cross over to the armoire and put it in the pocket of that day’s suit. It’s the only way he’ll be sure to find it.

I just hope he understands it.

I take a last affectionate look at the bulge in the bedcovers. The door clicks as I close it softly behind me.

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