Let's talk about a Donna Moss who loses Josh Lyman at Rosslyn.
In this universe, Donna still gets to the hospital and doesn't realize that Josh has been shot. She still asks "hit by what? I don't understand?" and she still gets the same answer, the same sympathy when she is practically catatonic in the waiting room.
In this universe, Donna still stands, watching the surgery, with her fingers playing with the chain of her White House authorization badge, imagining it's the Bartlet for President badge Josh had given her on her first day at the campaign.
In this universe, the outcome of the surgery is different. The surgeon comes into the waiting room, a grim look on his face that betrays what he is about to say before he can say it. There's white noise in her ears and her knees buckle, Sam catching her before she can hit the ground. He holds her up or she holds him up. Either way, they're both shaking because they've both lost their best friend.
CJ or maybe Toby or maybe both rush the surgeon, asking question after question, begging for this to be a sick, sick joke.
It's not, Donna knows. There's no way someone would make a joke like this.
On that warm, fateful May day, the White House executive staff grows cold.
On that warm, fateful May day, President Jed Bartlet survives the gunshot to his back, but Josh Lyman does not survive the gunshot to his stomach.
On that warm, fateful May day, Donnatella Moss loses Joshua Lyman and her life will never be the same.
This Donna leaves the White House much earlier than the other Donna. She only lasts another 3 months after Rosslyn.
Leo replaces Josh - he has to. But the DCoS office is different without Josh and his ego and his bluster filling the space. There's no one shouting her name down the hall. There's no one to bicker and match wits with.
There's no one to give her an affectionate smile, because even in the beginning, before they ever said it out loud, Josh Lyman was a little bit in love with Donna Moss and his smiles always showed that love before he ever could.
The White House is cold and lonely without Josh.
Sure, she has the other Executive Secretaries. She has Sam, who tries to take her for lunch once a week, when his schedule allows. CJ sometimes stops by to talk. But it's not the same.
The new DCoS is nice. He is. But he's quieter, less passionate than Josh.
(No one, Donna thinks, could ever be as passionate about politics, about the Bartlet administration than Josh.)
It's not the same.
So Donna leaves.
She goes home to Wisconsin, everything in DC reminds her of him. He's everywhere, the memory of him is in their favorite restaurants, in the familiar streets they took detours down when protesters cut off traffic, in the buildings themselves that stood for everything Josh was passionate about.
It hurts her heart every time she looks around the city.
She goes home to Wisconsin.
Her parents welcome her, surprised, but happy that she's home. She cries a lot in those first few weeks, when correspondence with the White House friends and colleagues she left behind is still steady.
Slowly but surely, that communication tapers off. It's sad, but it's a natural fact of life. She doesn't work there and he was her main connection to that world.
This Donna misses a lot.
She misses Sam Seaborn meeting Ainsley Hayes and falling a little bit in love.
She misses Mrs. Landingham's death and that hurts. Margaret sends her the information about the wake and funeral, a short note included that tells Donna how much she is missed and how much they would like it if she could come back for a visit. She doesn't.
She misses the big MS reveal. She sees it on TV of course, how could she miss it? But she doesn't know what goes on behind the scenes, doesn't know the secret code to get into the inner sanctum. She sees President Bartlet put his hands in his pockets, look off into the distance and smile. She hears him announce his bid for reelection, and it's like a knife to the heart because she will not be part of this campaign and neither will Josh.
She misses gathering in Manchester with the President and the First Lady and everyone else. She misses the rift growing between CJ and the President, between the President and the First Lady, between Sam and everyone.
She never meets Cliff Calley, never gets subpoenaed, never has Josh save her skin with a diary that barely matters.
She's not there when Sam leaves and doesn't come back.
(She doesn't get the smaller moments either. Tying his bow ties, snowballs thrown at her window, she never tells him she wouldn't even stop for red lights if he were in an accident.)
(She wishes she had told him. She wishes a lot of things.)
She misses so much.
But this Donna also gains something, much earlier than the other Donna would have.
She goes back to U Madison. She has to. She was a secretary for three years and has no college degree. She wants to find a real job eventually.
This Donna goes and finishes her last two years of undergrad. She walks across the stage, graduates summa cum laude, with her parents and siblings cheering for her. She has a bouquet of flowers at home from Sam because with Ainsley by his side, he tries to reach out to her again. She has a bouquet of flowers at home with a card signed by the executive staff in the White House and by the President because she still occasionally talks to Margaret.
She smiles as she walks across the stage, a gaping hole in her stomach because he is not there and in her imagination, when she dreamt about going back to school to finish her degree, he was there, cheering, smiling, waiting to sweep her into an embrace and a kiss after she switched her tassel from right to left.
But he's not here and she gets a political science degree because some things just don't change.
This Donna never goes to Gaza. She never gets blown up, never has to undergo surgery, never shakily writes "nice hat" and "scared" on a piece of paper. And while that should be a good thing, it also means she never wakes up in a hospital bed with his worried face to greet her. She never whispers, "You're still here," and never hears his incredulous response and the underlying obviousness of his presence in a German hospital, for her. Always for her.
Without Josh Lyman, President Maker, Matt Santos does not run for president. The other team gets a win.
This Donna doesn't attend Leo McGarry's funeral, but she sobs and sobs when she sees the news report. She holds Margaret's note about the funeral in her hands for hours before eventually setting it gently, carefully in the recycling bin. She can't see them all again, not after all the years that have gone by. She would be out of place there.
This Donna tries her damn hardest to move on and she does. Eventually.
She can barely stand going back to DC, so she goes to NYC, bustling and loud and crowded, where she is lonely but not alone.
She becomes a policy analyst, because what else can she do with a political science degree? She thought about law school, but that would've reminded her too much of Josh. So she works in New York City, long hours that don't allow her to dwell and decent pay that allows her to have a little bit of fun.
This Donna makes friends, she has a life. She misses the camaraderie of the White House though and when she finds out that Sam is back in the city, working at a prestigious law firm (because without his best friend to be his CoS, Sam doesn't want to make a political run, losing Josh at Rosslyn has an effect on everyone, not just Donna), she calls him and invites him out for lunch. Because now she is nearly 30 and she's spent more time without Josh than with him and she wants a little bit of a connection to her past, his past.
This Donna does eventually meet Ainsley Hayes, but she's Ainsley Seaborn now and mother of one. They become friends and Ainsley tries to set Donna up on a few dates with some of her friends.
This Donna does marry. He's a sweet man, smart and funny and occasionally rude, but what man isn't? He's not a politician and isn't really passionate about anything in particular. He's tall and blonde and nothing like Josh and Donna does love him, she does. But. They don't have quite the same spark as, well, this Donna supposes that kind of connection can only happen once in a lifetime.
This Donna has children. Maybe one, maybe three. All boys, all girls, a mix. It doesn't matter. She has children and she has a wonderful husband and a job she likes and friends. She's fulfilled, but she's also not in politics, not the First Lady's Chief of Staff like the Other Donna.
This Donna has so much – she has a degree and a job and a husband and kids and friends. But Other Donna still has Josh.
This Donnatella Moss has what-ifs, maybes, should-have-beens.
Other Donna has Josh Lyman, warm and alive in her bed (eventually, they make it there eventually). Other Donna has all the things this Donna has, plus that one, most important piece.
This Donnatella Moss lost Joshua Lyman at Rosslyn.
A/N: I know I'm about a decade too late to the West Wing party, but I've been binge watching and holy mother of god are Josh and Donna the OTP to end all OTPs? I'm in love. So naturally, I killed one of them :)
I'd love your comments and constructive criticism! Thanks!