Disclaimer: I own nothing belonging to The West Wing; it all belongs to NBC, Aaron Sorkin, et al. I write these stories purely for enjoyment; no copyright infringement is intended.

Keeping It Together

Sam sighed as his phone rang for what felt like the millionth time that day.

"Hello?"

The familiar voice of his secretary, Caroline, came over the line. (Thank goodness he'd convinced her to leave Gage Whitney and come work for him. He'd never make it through the day without her.)

"Sam, there's a Josh Lyman on the phone for you? I thought I remembered him from New York, but he sounds pretty distraught."

"Yeah, that was Josh," Sam said, his forehead wrinkling in concern. "Distraught?"

"Yes, quite upset. Shall I put him through?"

"Please. Thanks for the warning," Sam said gratefully, and gripped his pen a little tighter as he waited.

"Sam," Josh said thickly.

"Josh?" Sam said tentatively. Josh sounded terrible. "What's happened?"

"Um, I don't - Toby and I had a fight. It was bad." Josh sounded like he hardly knew what he was saying, or maybe didn't understand it, and Sam's sense of alarm went up a few notches. Josh hadn't sounded this disoriented and tense since Gaza, and before that, after Rosslyn.

"What about?" Sam asked gently. "You guys argue about things all the time."

"No, it wasn't - we had a fight, Sam," Josh tried to explain again, frustration bleeding through his bewilderment. "With fists, or almost. With papers, and fists, and who knows what. I think I cut Toby's cheek."

"God," Sam breathed, sitting back in his chair. He was flabbergasted. Of all the things that could have happened, he never would have imagined this. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Josh said. "Well, upset, but physically fine. Toby's brother died, did you know that?"

"David?" Sam said slowly.

"Yeah," Josh confirmed. "I hadn't - I hadn't heard, and then I got to the White House and - I tried to invite Toby to lunch. I just wanted - I wanted to be a friend, you know? I had been gone, and I hadn't heard, and then I did, and I just - and he's so angry, Sam. He's so angry at me."

"It's not about you, Josh," Sam said. "He's just lost his brother. He feels - he's grieving."

"He thinks I abandoned him, and the President," Josh said, and Sam heard the tremor in the words, though it was almost invisible. "He thinks I abandoned him, and he thinks David did, too."

"Josh …"

"How can he think - I'm trying to get the next guy elected, Sam. I didn't want to leave the White House; it wasn't about that. It was - I wanted to make sure that we didn't lose everything we've fought for in the last seven years. I don't leave - how can Toby think that I would abandon him?"

"Josh," Sam cut in softly. "I'm sure he doesn't really think that. He's grieving, and he's angry with David, and he wants someone to take it out on. And the White House is under siege right now, without one of their best staffers, and Toby and CJ and all of them are probably feeling overwhelmed."

"He's angry that I didn't talk to him," Josh said. "That I didn't tell him about Santos. Maybe I should have. I just - if this was going to be political suicide for me, I didn't want to take anyone else down with me."

A small smile turned up the corners of Sam's mouth. "You sound more like Leo every day, you know that?"

"I don't know how he does this, Sam," Josh said hoarsely. "I really don't. How he keeps everything and everyone together, all the time. It feels like we're all falling apart."

"Josh. You can do this," Sam said firmly. "Is Santos the Real Thing?"

"He isn't President Bartlet, but I don't know that anyone will ever measure up to him," Josh said, a little wryly. "But …yeah, I think Santos is, too, Sam. I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

"Okay," Sam said reassuringly. "Then you're fine. Then you go and do what you always do, and you win. You and Toby are trying to do what's best from two sides of an almost impossibly equation. Toby will see that eventually."

There was a long pause as Josh processed that.

"Thanks," he said quietly, finally. "I don't suppose I could persuade you to …?"

Sam's heart twisted as he heard the wistfulness in Josh's voice. Part of him wanted to say yes so very badly. "Not yet," he said, the regret clear in his voice, his wistfulness matching Josh's. "I can't yet, Josh. I need some more time."

"Okay," Josh sighed. "Listen, I should … but thank you. I needed that."

"Anytime," Sam said, warm affection rushing through him. He missed his best friend. "Josh …"

"Yeah?"

"Come and get me when you've won for Santos. I'll be ready by then."