Trying
By Julia
August 2003
Rating: PG, for theme.
Summary: Another Andy story. This is in the spirit of Jae Gecko's "Defining Moments" challenge: "Pick a fandom. Pick a character. Describe a moment from that character's life that shaped her, made her into the person she is now. Any fandom. Any character. 500 words -- on the nose, if you can (and you can)." It's late, but it's still 500 words on the nose!
Spoilers: Just backstory. Mostly "Debate Camp".
Disclaimer: In my world, they will always belong to Aaron Sorkin.
Feedback: Makes me feel less far away from home. This is un-beta-ed, so if you see a ghastly error, please, please, please let me know. And let me know anything else you think too, ok? Thanks.
***
The bleeding came in a rush on a sunny Sunday afternoon. It would have been cause for panic had she not experienced it once before, but this time the terror was replaced by a feeling of unbelievable frustration and sadness sinking into the pit of her stomach.
"Don't get your hopes up," the doctor had told her, "especially not in the first two months." She'd nodded but wondered how he could speak as though hope was something you could turn on and off. As if you could convince yourself not to want this baby until it was born.
She was home by herself that afternoon, and despite her earlier protests was grateful for it. Toby was at the White House, like so many Sundays in the three months since Bartlet had taken office, and they'd spent the time before he'd left bickering about this trend. She knew his job was important - she lived in the world of national politics just as he did - but the effort going into trying to conceive seemed to have turned everything about their marriage into an effort. She'd tried to convince him to join her for a concert on the Capitol Lawn, that he really would enjoy it; he'd tried to convince her that he wasn't spending so much time at work to avoid spending time at home. They'd both tried to convince each other that this was just today's problem and tomorrow they'd be fine. She'd lost count of how many tomorrows she'd waited for everything to be fine.
Had Toby been there she would have been strong and practical. In his absence, she didn't fight the tears as they began to slide down her cheeks. Within minutes the sobs were so great that her body convulsed with each one. She sat against the corner of the couch, clutching her knees against her chest, and cried until she was sure she had no tears left.
She was still there when Toby returned home for the night. "Andy --" she heard his voice before he entered the room but didn't look up from her knees. "Let's try and forget about this morning." he began, his words trailing off as he caught a glimpse of her face. He shuffled over and placed his right hand on her knee. As he looked from the few drops of blood that had escaped onto the cushion to the streaks of tears she hadn't bothered to wipe from her face, she knew she wouldn't have to explain what had happened.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, looking uncomfortable.
"Listen, Toby," she started, in a voice that sounded distant to her ears. She didn't want to do this but forced herself to go on. "I think it's time we stopped trying."
He fixed his gaze on her for just a moment before lowering his eyes.
She'd only been referring to having a child, of course, but it didn't take either of them long to realize how much more she really meant.
By Julia
August 2003
Rating: PG, for theme.
Summary: Another Andy story. This is in the spirit of Jae Gecko's "Defining Moments" challenge: "Pick a fandom. Pick a character. Describe a moment from that character's life that shaped her, made her into the person she is now. Any fandom. Any character. 500 words -- on the nose, if you can (and you can)." It's late, but it's still 500 words on the nose!
Spoilers: Just backstory. Mostly "Debate Camp".
Disclaimer: In my world, they will always belong to Aaron Sorkin.
Feedback: Makes me feel less far away from home. This is un-beta-ed, so if you see a ghastly error, please, please, please let me know. And let me know anything else you think too, ok? Thanks.
***
The bleeding came in a rush on a sunny Sunday afternoon. It would have been cause for panic had she not experienced it once before, but this time the terror was replaced by a feeling of unbelievable frustration and sadness sinking into the pit of her stomach.
"Don't get your hopes up," the doctor had told her, "especially not in the first two months." She'd nodded but wondered how he could speak as though hope was something you could turn on and off. As if you could convince yourself not to want this baby until it was born.
She was home by herself that afternoon, and despite her earlier protests was grateful for it. Toby was at the White House, like so many Sundays in the three months since Bartlet had taken office, and they'd spent the time before he'd left bickering about this trend. She knew his job was important - she lived in the world of national politics just as he did - but the effort going into trying to conceive seemed to have turned everything about their marriage into an effort. She'd tried to convince him to join her for a concert on the Capitol Lawn, that he really would enjoy it; he'd tried to convince her that he wasn't spending so much time at work to avoid spending time at home. They'd both tried to convince each other that this was just today's problem and tomorrow they'd be fine. She'd lost count of how many tomorrows she'd waited for everything to be fine.
Had Toby been there she would have been strong and practical. In his absence, she didn't fight the tears as they began to slide down her cheeks. Within minutes the sobs were so great that her body convulsed with each one. She sat against the corner of the couch, clutching her knees against her chest, and cried until she was sure she had no tears left.
She was still there when Toby returned home for the night. "Andy --" she heard his voice before he entered the room but didn't look up from her knees. "Let's try and forget about this morning." he began, his words trailing off as he caught a glimpse of her face. He shuffled over and placed his right hand on her knee. As he looked from the few drops of blood that had escaped onto the cushion to the streaks of tears she hadn't bothered to wipe from her face, she knew she wouldn't have to explain what had happened.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, looking uncomfortable.
"Listen, Toby," she started, in a voice that sounded distant to her ears. She didn't want to do this but forced herself to go on. "I think it's time we stopped trying."
He fixed his gaze on her for just a moment before lowering his eyes.
She'd only been referring to having a child, of course, but it didn't take either of them long to realize how much more she really meant.