Madam President ✓

83. Distancing

Tanya

   I keep my back turned as I walk out. There have been many days in my presidency when I though I'd reached the point of no return, when my approval rating plummeted- but it always shot straight back up. Now, I know it will never recover because of how fresh in people's minds the last Presidential resignation is. They'll call me a coward running away from my oath. What they don't know is I'm actually running towards it.

Two familiar sets of footsteps follow me into the hallway. I also know what they'll say may not be workplace appropriate, so I abruptly turn and open a meeting room door. When it doesn't immediately slam behind me, and is delayed by a few seconds, I know they'll be standing there- rightfully pissed.

"What...the...."

"Actual fuck Tanya?" Melissa finishes his sentence.

Never, not once- have I seen them this mad. Sure, we were all pretty pissed when those Iraqi civilians died, but not at each other. That anger was directed at a CIA operative who gave us bad info.

"That could be both of our jobs on the line!" Carlos yells.

"Anthony wouldn't dare fire either of you-"

"How can you be so sure?" Melissa interrupts. "Whose to say he won't let the power go to his head?"

"He won't-"

"Fine- care to explain what the hell's going through your head?" She asks. When I don't answer, she slowly rubs her temples. "If it has something to do with your earlier suggestion I'm going to steal one of Lynn's guns and blow my brains out with it."

  "Maybe think about... getting some sleep first." I sigh. "I intend on keeping my promise to protect this country by.... we can talk about it tomorrow. You've both trusted me for two years- all I'm asking is you don't stop doing that now. Some of the things I have to do to get Walter back on American soil....."

  "Can't happen if you're the sitting in the Oval Office." Carlos shakes his head. "Don't do anything stupid."

  "Me? I would never."

  "Not funny."

  "Okay, both of you-" I dramatically gesture back and forth. "There are eleven bedrooms in the residence that never get used. Find one and sleep. That is an order-"

  The door swings open, almost on que.

  "Burritos?" The kitchen intern says. Both of them reject his offer, their nerves all consuming. Mine have the opposite effect- I could eat ten of them if I weren't worried about what it'd do to my digestive system.

  I grab one to shove in my face on the way to bed.

  "As a wise man once said-" I grab Carlos's arm when I pass him. "We can't take care of him if we're not taking care of ourselves. Come on."

I pull them with me through the west wing, to the elevator going up- and physically push them inside.

  "Aren't you coming?" Melissa asks.

  "Yeah just... one second." I wait until the doors close before I turn to the agents stationed at them tonight.

This is the one time I've been grateful they're nothing but professional.

"Don't let anybody in or out except the people already up there- unless something happens to Walter while we're asleep."

"Yes Ma'm...." He agrees reflexively, but when he understands what I mean he narrows his eyes. I doubt he's ever been commanded to do something like that before. "Nobody?"

"Nobody." I nod.

"But if the-"

"Nobody. He can wait until tomorrow." Just as the elevator comes back down, I slip past him. In the elevator, everything from the past two years comes flooding back.

The difficult decisions I had to make that ended up killing people- even if they saved more, haunt me the most.

Katie was one of them- but she was far from the first life or death situation I dealt with. Just a few months into my presidency, North Korea was acting up, testing launch sites- the usual. How did we respond?

Holding their public health minister, who was in Germany for Ebola discussions- until they agreed to stop it. After only a week the poor guy contracted some virus with an excessively long name. According to the North Korean government, he died a month after being returned. As you can imagine they weren't too happy- but we threw half a billion dollars in medical supplies their way and they forgot.

Ding!

Before I've gotten to the main part of my living room, I'm kicking my shoes off- and remember the burrito in my other hand.

Zombie-like, Melissa stumbles to an empty bedroom. I eat so fast I'm surprised I don't choke- then I'm heading to "my" bedroom for one of the last times.

I wonder what Walter's feeling right now- is he hungry? Cold? Bleeding?

I shake my head. If I start thinking about that, I'll never be able to close my eyes again.

Darrel, sitting up on the side of the bed( not the same one) his wife used to sleep in, watching the news while he waits on me.

"Do you wanna talk about it now?" He asks, voice kind, but his eyes communicate something different.

What the FUCK Tanya?

The fifth time we snuck around here at the White House, his wife was in New Orleans helping with a disaster relief project. That was when I felt guiltiest for what we were doing- and what would happen if we did get caught. He insisted he wasn't skipping out on it because of me, that there was a possible missing Petri dish of the plague somewhere in LA and wanted to be near when they found it. He did have to leave on the second day for about an hour, but to this day I can't decide if I believed that story or not.

Back then, I gave myself the same look he's giving me now.

I climb under the covers in my full pantsuit and turn the light off.

"I just want to go to sleep."