Title: Demons of the Past

Summary: The past returns with a vengeance, and Sam and Josh both find themselves running for cover.

Warning: Deals with adult subject matter

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Chapter 1

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"What's next?" Bartlet asked, effectively closing the book on the education debate – for now, anyway. Josh had little doubt that Toby would dredge it back up any number of times between now and, he glanced at his watch, three o'clock or so. Let's see how many times it gets mentioned in the next four hours.

Leo glanced his way, and he cleared his throat. This wasn't going to be an easy one to talk about, for so many reasons. "California," he replied, struggling not to look in Sam's direction.

"California?" the President echoed quizzically, raising an eyebrow in the Deputy Chief of Staff's direction. "Don't be so specific, Josh. Make me guess sometimes."

Josh rolled his eyes. "What was one kidnapping two weeks ago was six by the end of last week, and is up to thirteen now. All kids, ages five to eleven."

Bartlet frowned. "Why haven't I heard about this before?"

"Because it was just a law enforcement issue before," Leo answered. "Something for us to keep an eye on but not get involved. Now…well…" he trailed off, shrugging.

The President's frown deepened. "Tell me more," he murmured, eyes traveling over each of their faces.

"The kids are being returned to their parents as soon as the parents pay the ransom, usually within three days," Josh answered. "But every one of them has been abused to the point that they're afraid to come near anyone, mother or father. Some physical abuse, but mostly, ah, sexual," he finished, eyes on the floor.

Bartlet's face was a mask of surprise. "Thirteen children? Have they all been returned to their parents by now?"

"All except the two who disappeared yesterday, and one whose parents got the police involved," Leo told him.

"Does the FBI know anything?" he asked softly.

"Not enough, sir." CJ cast a quick glance at her briefing notes. "They know that more than one person is responsible, and they think that the kidnappings are all related, but that's as far as they've gotten."

"And you're bringing this to me now because…?" He raised an eyebrow. "I don't see that there's anything I can do." But Josh could see that it pained him to admit his helplessness in the matter.

Josh and CJ exchanged glances and then both looked at Toby, who glowered in response. "We think you should issue a public statement condemning those involved," Josh explained. Before the Communications Director could say a word, Josh spoke for him. "Toby disagrees."

Bartlet glanced at Toby, clearly trying to discern what the man would have against the idea. "The Republican leadership will paint it as political posturing. It'll look like a campaign move. It's not a matter of state, and it remains," he paused and looked quickly at Leo, "a law enforcement issue. Leave it to the FBI. Once they've resolved the issue, come forward and praise them for a job well done."

Jed cast a sideways glance at the Deputy and Chief of Staff. "He has a point. Outside the FBI, the federal government doesn't absolutely need to become involved."

"Yes, it does," Sam said forcefully. "With all due respect, sir, you may be the head of the federal government, but you're also a representative of every person in this country, whether they voted for you or not, and you owe it to your constituents to show them support. For these families who are losing their children – and they ARE losing their children, because those kids are not coming back the same kids they were when they left – it would mean the world just to hear you say a few words now to show that you know what's happening to them and that you actually care."

He turned to Toby. "Screw the leadership. Think about how the people of California will see it. Stop thinking like a politician for once, and think like an actual human being. The people won't see it as a political move, and the Republicans won't be able to skew it that way, not to them, the families. They'll see it as a show of compassion, which SOME people in this building seem to be sorely lacking."

Just as suddenly as the words had poured forth from his lips, they stopped, and he looked exhausted. "I…I'm sorry," he stammered, his face pale. "Pl…please, excuse me," he mumbled before practically running from the office, leaving Josh, CJ, Toby, and Leo staring at each other, and the President staring after the Deputy Communications Director.

"What, exactly, just happened?" Toby asked, eyes fixed on Josh.

Josh shifted uncomfortably. If you only knew, he thought to himself. But no way was he going to give Toby a real answer. "You know how he gets. He takes these things personally." He paused. "I'll go try to talk to him." He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "Give me a little time and, ah, don't come down too hard on him for that, huh?" His gaze traveled back and forth between Leo, Toby, and the President.

"Tell him I'd like to speak to him, Josh," Bartlet said softly.

Josh frowned, unsure of why the President wanted to talk to the speechwriter. But his eyes showed concern rather than annoyance or anger, so Josh just nodded and left to search out Sam.

He headed to the speechwriter's office first, but – surprise of surprises – he wasn't there. Standing in the doorway for a moment, he decided to check the restrooms in the West Wing. They made good hiding places.

Sure enough, he found him in the men's room, leaning over the sink, looking sick to his stomach. "Sam?" he asked softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. The younger man didn't acknowledge him at all, so Josh shook him gently. "Sam? You all right?"

Finally, he seemed to return to Earth. "Uh, yeah, I'm all right. Sorry I kinda lost it in there. Is Leo pissed?"

Josh shook his head. "No. Neither is the President, actually. I think they're worried about you. Bartlet wants to talk to you, though."

Sam sighed. "I guessed he would. Right now?"

"I think so…he didn't really say, just to tell you he wanted to talk to you." Josh paused. "Sam, is this because of…?" He couldn't say the words.

"What do you think?" Sam shook his head. "It's not only that. Toby really made me angry. When did we forget that Americans actually can think for themselves, and that most of them don't give a damn what the leadership in Congress say?"

It was, unfortunately, a more than fair question, and one Josh didn't have an answer to. "When we got elected?" he guessed. Then he shrugged and shook his head. "I don't know, Sam."

He studied his friend. The younger man needed to talk – that was plain to see – but he knew Sam well enough by now to know that there was no use in trying to convince him to open up. Sam would talk if and when he wanted to, and not sooner than that. Maybe he'd talk to Bartlet. Stranger things had happened. "Go see the President, Sam. I'll be around after."

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Sam walked slowly through the corridor, eyes fixed on the floor, struggling to straighten out the thoughts that were running rampant through his head. He'd never been good at thinking when he was upset, and he didn't want to be babbling nonsense when he spoke to the President.

"He's waiting for you," Charlie told him before Sam could say so much as a word.

"I figured." He took a deep breath before opening the door to the Oval Office and stepping inside.

"Sam, come in," Bartlet greeted him, standing as the door opened and waving him toward a chair. "Have a seat, son."

Hesitantly, Sam walked in, stopping behind the couch. He didn't sit. He wasn't sure he could. "I…I wanted to apologize for my outburst earlier, sir. I was out of line."

Bartlet waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, Sam. Sit down, though, will you?" he asked, repeating the request in a tone that told Sam that he would be there for a while.

Slowly, he came around the couch and took a seat facing the President. "Is…something wrong, sir?" he asked, thanking God that he'd managed those few words coherently.

"I would think that there was, and I think I know what it is." Bartlet eyed him carefully.

Sam shrank back a bit, a puzzled expression on his face. "I'm not following, sir," he murmured, though he thought he had a good idea of where the President was going with this conversation.

"I haven't led you anywhere, Sam. Not yet." He paused. "Bear with me for a moment. I've decided to take your advice on what's happening in California, and here's why. I believe you were speaking from experience." He paused again. "Am I wrong, Sam?"

Sam didn't answer. He could feel the blood drain from his face. "I…I don't know…I don't know what you're talking about, sir." It was an obvious lie and Sam knew the President could see through him like glass, but he couldn't manage anything else. He could barely keep his brain functioning.

"Sam, I recall reading about a kidnapping in Orange County some fifteen or twenty years ago. It was in the national news and I was starting out in politics so I paid attention to those types of things. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Sam swallowed hard, but didn't speak. He couldn't speak. Trust the President to remember something so obscure as that.

Bartlet pressed on. "Sam, did you know the victim then?"

Sam stared at him, willing his hands not to shake. "Me."