A/N: Yes, I am a horrible person who deserves to be hanged. I have two
fanfics out that are NOT done, and here I am starting a third one. I cannot
help it. Things happen that are outside my control. I was watching my
Season One West Wing, and then my Season Two West Wing when an idea hit me.
A plot bunny if you will. It just came out of nowhere, and I HAD to write
it. I had to write it. I couldn't help it.
This starts at the very end of 'What Kind of Day Has it Been' and continues on through 'In the Shadow of Two Gunmen Parts I and II' at least. I have no idea how longer it's going to go on after that. It is told in first person, and tells their reaction to the shooting, and the aftermath with the President and Josh. I am a character writer, and most of this will be developing their characters. Sorry if they don't seem true to you, I am writing them like how I perceive them. Sam, Josh, and Toby will all seem a little alike, because they are a little alike.
Please note that this is my first West Wing fanfiction, characters will not be perfectly in character, nor will it be much good. Constructive critics is appreciated, but please, don't hurt my feelings.
Disclaimer: The West Wing belongs to that miracle genius Aaron Sorkin, and to all the folks at West Wing. The characters belong to themselves.
,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,,.,.,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, ,,,,,,,,,,,
Josh's POV
,.,.,.,.,.,.,..,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, ,,,,,,,,,,,
Okay, so maybe it was a stupid idea. I'd just like to say for my part, that I didn't know how stupid it was going to be until after I did it. Or maybe it was stupid from the beginning, and it just turned dangerous at the end. Or maybe my actions wouldn't have made a bit of difference in the world. It doesn't really matter.
The important thing to know is that when we got outside from the meeting, I realized that I had left my pen inside. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem as I can afford to buy plenty of pens even on a government salary, but this was a problem. See, my dad had given me that pen when I graduated from Harvard. Hence, a very important pen.
So I turned back to go into the Town Hall. From the beautiful view of hindsight, I can now see my first mistake. I turned back without telling anyone that I was turning back. That was a big mistake. Maybe if I had just turned to Sam and said, "Hey Sam. I left something back there, I'll be out in a second," things wouldn't have been that bad. But I didn't say anything, didn't talk to anyone, didn't acknowledge anyone's presence in anyway, and I went back.
It took me approximately ten seconds to locate the pen, and I was out of there. When I got out, there were several people milling around, but they didn't give me any notice. After all, I'm the Deputy Chief of Staff. Not that many members of the public (excepting my glorious fan club) notice me. So I came to these steps, and saw that the gate was closed. Now normally, that would be a big enough problem. The gate was closed, and I would need a Secret Service person to open it back up for me, which would make them grumpy. But my problems were about to get a whole lot bigger than a closed gate.
One of the Secret Service agents assigned to Zoey (Gina? I couldn't remember her name) turned around. She screamed out "Gun!" a second before the first shot was fired. Instant pandemonium. Smoke was everywhere, people were screaming, and the Secret Service started yelling and firing back.
I rant to the gate, trying to see what was going on, and if I could see the President. Second mistake. If I'd stayed at the top of the steps, I would have been out of range, and things (for me) would have been better. But no. My stupid sense of humanity got in the way. Panic took control, and I flung myself against the gate, hoping against hope that it would open. It didn't.
I couldn't see the President, Sam, Toby, CJ, Leo, Charlie, Zoey...I couldn't see any of them. Fear for their lives filled me, and I had this really meaningless desire to help them, even though there wasn't a lot that I could do. I backed away from the gate, and stumbled as someone pushed into me. I had barely gotten over that when I felt it. A huge, sharp, overwhelming pain that brought me down to my knees. It felt like my lungs weren't working, because when I tried to take in a breath, and nothing went into my body at all. It felt like someone had just punched me in the gut, but it got worse than that. Much worse. Shots were still being fired as I put my hand over the pain. Warm liquid gushed out over my hand, and then it came to me: I had been hit.
It's not like I had never seen a bullet before, I had seen plenty of them when arguing for more gun control. It's just that I had no idea that they caused that much pain. It felt like a roaring fire had just been lit inside of me. It swept through my stomach, heart, head, and legs. Something was tearing at me, ripping away my flesh. A white-hot pain was going through my chest, and I felt lightheaded as more and more blood flowed out of me. And shots were still being fired.
With my brain shutting down, I did the only thing that I could think of. I managed to crawl behind the steps, where a slab of concrete was protecting me. I could feel numbness creeping in all over my body, and the blood kept on flowing. I tried to staunch the flow and call for help as sirens replaced the gunshots.
From my position, I couldn't see what was going on, and no one could see me. Blue and red lights danced all around. The wailing, screaming, piercing noise of sirens were blasting through my dazed brain. I could feel that a large portion of my shirt was soaked with blood. My blood. I tried to focus, I really did. I tried to get up, to make my way to the sirens, but my legs wouldn't cooperate. No one seemed to notice me as they rushed around me. That was when the heart stopping fear got me.
I was gong to die here. I was going to die on the steps of a Town Hall in Rosslyn Virginia, and no one was going to care. No one was going to notice. The passing of Josh Lyman would go unmarked by time, and no one was going to come to try and comfort me. My family, my friends, I was never going to see them again before I died. I tried to call for help again, but getting in a minimal supply of oxygen was hard enough.
The blue and red lights and the sirens blurred all together and became one. My brain was slipping...slipping...slipping... "Josh?" From somewhere I found the willpower to hang on. My fingers gripped the wound tighter. "Josh?" I could now recognize the voice.
Toby! Dear, sweet, good, kind, lovable Toby! He remembered me! "I'm up here!" I tried to shout, and then panic set in again when I realized that I couldn't tell him where I was. "Toby! I'm right here! I need help!" But I couldn't yell, and I realized that I would soon be unconscious.
"Josh!" he yelled again. Try as I might, I couldn't speak. And that was slightly disconcerting coming from a guy that makes his salary from arguing with people. And the darkness was setting in faster now. Black was creeping in on the edges of my blurred vision. It was now all that I could do to make myself stay awake, and pray that he would find me. "Josh! Josh, didn't you hear me calling...you?" His voice faded. I stared in what I hoped was his general direction while trying to make my vision clear and my damn voice work.
"I need..." I could hear his voice falter again, "I need a doctor!" I could feel my grip on reality leaving. My eyes widened and my mouth worked furiously as I tried to keep from passing out. "I need help!" My body started to slide to the left, and Toby's arms reached out to catch me. My head hit the pavement, and my eyes closed. I passed out, but not before hearing C.J's scream.
"Josh!"
,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,
Well geez. That was probably worse than what I thought it was going to be. But hey, you could help me out here. Just tell me how bad you thought it was by clicking that blue button down there.
See? Right here.
This starts at the very end of 'What Kind of Day Has it Been' and continues on through 'In the Shadow of Two Gunmen Parts I and II' at least. I have no idea how longer it's going to go on after that. It is told in first person, and tells their reaction to the shooting, and the aftermath with the President and Josh. I am a character writer, and most of this will be developing their characters. Sorry if they don't seem true to you, I am writing them like how I perceive them. Sam, Josh, and Toby will all seem a little alike, because they are a little alike.
Please note that this is my first West Wing fanfiction, characters will not be perfectly in character, nor will it be much good. Constructive critics is appreciated, but please, don't hurt my feelings.
Disclaimer: The West Wing belongs to that miracle genius Aaron Sorkin, and to all the folks at West Wing. The characters belong to themselves.
,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,,.,.,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, ,,,,,,,,,,,
Josh's POV
,.,.,.,.,.,.,..,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, ,,,,,,,,,,,
Okay, so maybe it was a stupid idea. I'd just like to say for my part, that I didn't know how stupid it was going to be until after I did it. Or maybe it was stupid from the beginning, and it just turned dangerous at the end. Or maybe my actions wouldn't have made a bit of difference in the world. It doesn't really matter.
The important thing to know is that when we got outside from the meeting, I realized that I had left my pen inside. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem as I can afford to buy plenty of pens even on a government salary, but this was a problem. See, my dad had given me that pen when I graduated from Harvard. Hence, a very important pen.
So I turned back to go into the Town Hall. From the beautiful view of hindsight, I can now see my first mistake. I turned back without telling anyone that I was turning back. That was a big mistake. Maybe if I had just turned to Sam and said, "Hey Sam. I left something back there, I'll be out in a second," things wouldn't have been that bad. But I didn't say anything, didn't talk to anyone, didn't acknowledge anyone's presence in anyway, and I went back.
It took me approximately ten seconds to locate the pen, and I was out of there. When I got out, there were several people milling around, but they didn't give me any notice. After all, I'm the Deputy Chief of Staff. Not that many members of the public (excepting my glorious fan club) notice me. So I came to these steps, and saw that the gate was closed. Now normally, that would be a big enough problem. The gate was closed, and I would need a Secret Service person to open it back up for me, which would make them grumpy. But my problems were about to get a whole lot bigger than a closed gate.
One of the Secret Service agents assigned to Zoey (Gina? I couldn't remember her name) turned around. She screamed out "Gun!" a second before the first shot was fired. Instant pandemonium. Smoke was everywhere, people were screaming, and the Secret Service started yelling and firing back.
I rant to the gate, trying to see what was going on, and if I could see the President. Second mistake. If I'd stayed at the top of the steps, I would have been out of range, and things (for me) would have been better. But no. My stupid sense of humanity got in the way. Panic took control, and I flung myself against the gate, hoping against hope that it would open. It didn't.
I couldn't see the President, Sam, Toby, CJ, Leo, Charlie, Zoey...I couldn't see any of them. Fear for their lives filled me, and I had this really meaningless desire to help them, even though there wasn't a lot that I could do. I backed away from the gate, and stumbled as someone pushed into me. I had barely gotten over that when I felt it. A huge, sharp, overwhelming pain that brought me down to my knees. It felt like my lungs weren't working, because when I tried to take in a breath, and nothing went into my body at all. It felt like someone had just punched me in the gut, but it got worse than that. Much worse. Shots were still being fired as I put my hand over the pain. Warm liquid gushed out over my hand, and then it came to me: I had been hit.
It's not like I had never seen a bullet before, I had seen plenty of them when arguing for more gun control. It's just that I had no idea that they caused that much pain. It felt like a roaring fire had just been lit inside of me. It swept through my stomach, heart, head, and legs. Something was tearing at me, ripping away my flesh. A white-hot pain was going through my chest, and I felt lightheaded as more and more blood flowed out of me. And shots were still being fired.
With my brain shutting down, I did the only thing that I could think of. I managed to crawl behind the steps, where a slab of concrete was protecting me. I could feel numbness creeping in all over my body, and the blood kept on flowing. I tried to staunch the flow and call for help as sirens replaced the gunshots.
From my position, I couldn't see what was going on, and no one could see me. Blue and red lights danced all around. The wailing, screaming, piercing noise of sirens were blasting through my dazed brain. I could feel that a large portion of my shirt was soaked with blood. My blood. I tried to focus, I really did. I tried to get up, to make my way to the sirens, but my legs wouldn't cooperate. No one seemed to notice me as they rushed around me. That was when the heart stopping fear got me.
I was gong to die here. I was going to die on the steps of a Town Hall in Rosslyn Virginia, and no one was going to care. No one was going to notice. The passing of Josh Lyman would go unmarked by time, and no one was going to come to try and comfort me. My family, my friends, I was never going to see them again before I died. I tried to call for help again, but getting in a minimal supply of oxygen was hard enough.
The blue and red lights and the sirens blurred all together and became one. My brain was slipping...slipping...slipping... "Josh?" From somewhere I found the willpower to hang on. My fingers gripped the wound tighter. "Josh?" I could now recognize the voice.
Toby! Dear, sweet, good, kind, lovable Toby! He remembered me! "I'm up here!" I tried to shout, and then panic set in again when I realized that I couldn't tell him where I was. "Toby! I'm right here! I need help!" But I couldn't yell, and I realized that I would soon be unconscious.
"Josh!" he yelled again. Try as I might, I couldn't speak. And that was slightly disconcerting coming from a guy that makes his salary from arguing with people. And the darkness was setting in faster now. Black was creeping in on the edges of my blurred vision. It was now all that I could do to make myself stay awake, and pray that he would find me. "Josh! Josh, didn't you hear me calling...you?" His voice faded. I stared in what I hoped was his general direction while trying to make my vision clear and my damn voice work.
"I need..." I could hear his voice falter again, "I need a doctor!" I could feel my grip on reality leaving. My eyes widened and my mouth worked furiously as I tried to keep from passing out. "I need help!" My body started to slide to the left, and Toby's arms reached out to catch me. My head hit the pavement, and my eyes closed. I passed out, but not before hearing C.J's scream.
"Josh!"
,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,
Well geez. That was probably worse than what I thought it was going to be. But hey, you could help me out here. Just tell me how bad you thought it was by clicking that blue button down there.
See? Right here.