"Where Wilt Thou Lead Me?"
By
Author's Note: I've been re-watching Season 6 and 7 and this jumped into my mind and wouldn't go away until I wrote it down. This is after 2162 Votes and before the awful interview in The Ticket. We'll see how much it veers from Canon as I write it.
The only beta is me, so any inaccuracies are mine and only mine.
Disclaimer: I do not own The West Wing or any of the characters. I'm just doing this to kill time and amuse myself. Please don't sue me.
Prologue
He was pleased he'd managed to hold it together this long, but his resolve was fading fast. His hands were getting shakier by the minute and his mouth was as dry as the Sahara on an August afternoon. The Congressman waved to the adoring crowd, but Josh could only hear the sirens in his head getting louder and louder. This was not good. How the hell had he gotten himself into this situation? Why hadn't he said anything? He'd been an idiot and was now paying the very high price. There was nothing he could do as his knees gave way and the sidewalk rose up to meet his pale and sweaty face.
Two days earlier.
"We need to make a stop in Virginia. Vinick's making a stop there next week and it would be nice if we could get there first. See if we can get the town hall in Arlington or Richmond."
Edie grabbed her phone and started making the necessary calls.
Congressman Santos pushed aside a stack of folders and dropped into a chair.
"How's Leo doing in Oregon?"
Josh ran a hand through his hair. "Great. I talked to him and hour ago. As long as he doesn't mention his dislike for green beans we'll be fine."
Santos figured this was a reference to something bigger, but he didn't want to wade into the mire of that story today, so he simply nodded.
Edie glanced at Josh and covered her phone with one hand so she could speak. "Josh, the town halls in Arlington and Richmond are both booked, but there's a town hall in one of the suburbs of Arlington that can get us in. President Bartlet even spoke there once, so we know they can handle the Secret Service and the crowd."
A shiver ran down Josh's spine even as Santos said, "Book it."
If someone had been looking closely at Josh, they could have noticed how tense his jaw got and how he lost quite a bit of the color in his face. If Leo hadn't been across the country he would have caught what the others missed.
"What's the suburb?"
"Rosslyn."
He hadn't been back. He hadn't been purposely avoiding it. He'd just never had the opportunity and didn't feel like going out of his way to do it. Besides, if he had to go back he sure as hell didn't want to go alone and the only person that he'd allow to go with him was off trying to get Bingo Bob elected.
He should have gone years ago. Stanley had told him that it would be good for him and would bring him some closure that he needed. Josh knew that if he'd asked Donna she would have gone with him in a second, but things had been so awkward between them since Gaza. He felt guilty for sending her and almost getting her killed. He felt pissed because she'd attached herself to a dashing photographer the first chance she got. Mostly, though, he felt hurt that she'd left him. He'd known that she wanted and needed to grow in her work, but he'd been selfish. She'd held him together after the shooting and he was so used to her now, he had been terrified what would happen if she'd not been in his life anymore. He'd avoided her so he wouldn't lose her and she'd left anyway.
Who knew that the Santos campaign would take him to the one place in the country that the very thought of it brought a flop sweat to him? What kind of crazy-ass odds were those? He should have said no. He should have vociferously protested and forced Edie to find a new town hall in a town where he hadn't nearly lost his life. He had been so shocked, by the time he could speak again, Edie had the hall booked and Congressman Santos had gone to his office to look over the additions to his stump speech.
Maybe he could make someone else go with the Congressman. Maybe he could get the flu. Maybe he'd quit and go back to fighting with senators and congressmen to get bills passed.
Jesus. Maybe he was being a chicken-shit and should suck it up and grow a set. It had been years and the scars, physical and emotional, were faded. How bad could it be? They'd be in and out and done with it and he'd move on. He'd concentrate on the speech and the message they needed to get out. That's all that mattered.
Maybe if he kept telling himself that for the next two days he'd believe it by the time they got to Rosslyn.
*The title is taken from Act I, scene 5 of Hamlet
I'm planning more for this. You know, Donna to the rescue and all the squishy stuff. Reviews are happiness. :)