The Choice That Left Him Alone
Spoilers: Everything current.
Disclaimers: Main players Josh, Donna, but everyone gets at least a mention, none of them are however mine, and you know, I'm a little upset about that.
Archive: I'm not likely to say no, but please ask.
Summary: He thinks about the choice he couldn't understand, and the alternative he never considered.
Paring: J/D with hints of Sam/CJ, blink and you'll probably miss it. More maybe written in their respective points of view, I have yet to decide.
Acknowledgements: A special thanks to Christine, despite how hectic real life gets for her, she manages to beta for me :-) And also to Alicia, Lisa and Kerry, for being excellent sounding boards and giving me inspiration when I needed it.
Notes: The first instalment to this series is It Was Never The History She Remembered. You do not need to read it to understand this, however scene's from it will be referenced and this fic exists in that universe. Also, this series was started before the Season Finale aired, and as such Zoey's kidnapping isn't in this time line. Assume that Molly & Huck were born before the events of Twenty-Five.
This story is written in third person relating Josh's POV.
It's an angst fic, so if you feel you can't read this unless you know what happens, scroll down to the end for extended Author Notes.
Feedback: Is always appreciated but never expected.
The Choice That Left Him Alone
~*~
The silence haunts him as memories of days past stir, the letter carefully placed on the desk, of future regrets he doesn't want. He's certain this is the right decision; nothing else makes sense.
In the night his mind wanders. The one image of her walking away - with a smile that lit her eyes, excited about the path he gave her the courage to take - keeps replaying and he wonders why he can't let that vision go. Her choice, to walk away, leaves him lonely despite being surrounded by a life he's always wanted, and friends he cherishes. The reminders of her are everywhere, almost as if she never left, and yet, he can't stop the ache to be with her, he welcomes it in fact. Two years have gone by and waking up in an empty bed still has the power to ruin his entire day.
*
He's sitting in his office, playing with a-two-and-a-half-year-old Molly, delighted by her playfulness and the fascination she has with his nose. This is their little ritual; she'll sit on his lap, try and grab his nose with her chubby little fingers covered in the chocolate he secretly gives her when no one is looking, and then she'll point to a photo of him with Donna, sitting on his desk. Only today, in front of that photo sits the letter he has yet to finish. His smile falters as Molly continues to squirm, trying in vain to pick up the picture. In this instance, he's reminded of the intense emotion he felt watching Donna greet Molly and her brother into their world. He's reminded of the desire he felt to share that moment with her, to create a moment like that for them. And he's reminded of their first kiss, Donna's and his. He's reminded of the promise that kiss held, the promises he made without uttering a word.
And his heart constricts as he realises that, right now, those promises are being broken.
That's not what he wants, not with her. He doesn't know when or how she became so much a part of his life and he doesn't much care. What he does know is that the past two years have been the hardest of his life; he's been introduced to a type of void he didn't before understand. He knows he was obvious in his feelings for her. His friends, colleagues, even passing acquaintances, could see him falling for her, they could see him slowly letting her in to the point where her leaving would break him, but he didn't care. He trusted her to keep him with her, to keep them together. And he knows that without her here, his friends now see a shadow of his former self. His swagger, dimples, arrogance, it's all still there, only less so. He can't help that. She left, and with her went the essence that made him complete.
He trusted her and that led to the beginning of their future. He has no idea when their future began, in New Hampshire when she hired herself, or after Rosslyn and his recovery, or that final day in May when Molly and Huck were born, in the hospital when he kissed her. He suspects it was a moment that he'll never remember, one of the countless times she left him speechless, or taught him something about himself, or when she would let him see a glimpse of her world. Perhaps it was when she finally opened herself up to him completely, although when that occurred, he does not know.
The thought that now haunts him is the idea that she's miles away, gaining a new identity, allowing a part of herself to exist that he doesn't get to share. A reality he couldn't fathom over two years ago, and one he now can't escape.
*
After seeing the twins, CJ decided they needed to celebrate and so, Amy, Will, Charlie, Josh and Donna found themselves in a bar, ridiculously carefree. Josh watched as the group before him relaxed. He noticed the genuine happiness for Toby that CJ couldn't contain; the excitement in Will's eyes as he slowly but surely began to feel a part of the group; the constant state of distraction Charlie was in over Zoey's summer plans forgotten, as he and Will argued the merits of calling Toby's son Huck or Huckleberry, while Donna and CJ tried to come up with suggestions for girls' names; the sadness in Amy's forced smile as her gaze lingered over his arm lightly resting across Donna's shoulders.
A bundle of nerves, he walked a slightly tipsy Donna home that night. She was nervous, and happy, and full of energy, but mostly she was nervous, and that somehow made him feel even happier, empowered. He knew she had that effect on him, but for the first time it dawned on him that he also had that effect on her. At last, they were alone together and neither knew what to say. Finally, he couldn't take the silence any longer and stopped to kiss her once again. She refused to let him leave once they reached her apartment, and so he found himself waking up the next morning with her wrapped around him, still fast asleep.
They shared six months of bliss before, one night, she floated the idea of leaving the White House, of going back to college. He didn't realise her choice meant leaving him behind.
*
Months later, he found himself sitting in the dark, shadowed by dimly lit lamps. He felt the loneliness growing with every second. She walked away and no matter how hard he tried to understand, he was hurt by her decision to leave. He sat in his office, memos begging to be read, offering themselves as a distraction, but the words just blurred, instead painting a picture of how he felt.
Empty.
Amy walked in after a failed date, deciding to work instead. She offered him beer in exchange for his time; it was late, and his first night without Donna, so he accepted, anything to distract himself from the emptiness he felt inside.
They didn't get much work done; instead they allowed themselves to get drunk. She flirted with him and tried to engage in banter, but it fell flat, leaving her feeling awkward. She continued to flirt, and he wasn't sure what she expected from him; he knew he didn't want to be seduced, at least, not by her. So he casually mentioned that it would be inappropriate for her to try and jump him. He tried his best to keep his voice light, mask the comment as a joke, but his desire for her to know how serious he was made the moment uncomfortable.
She smiled sadly, commenting that if she believed for a moment she would succeed in seducing him, she wouldn't hesitate to try, but she had no intention of getting him into her bed, of making a fool of herself by trying to sleep with a man who can't stop loving another woman. She knows it's not her he wants and that he should just accept her offer of distraction what it was, an olive branch for friendship.
He didn't know how to respond, the empty feeling inside rushing back with abundance, kicking him in the gut. He didn't want to start the strand of a new relationship, even something as simple as friendship, without the presence of Donna. He didn't like the idea of moving on without her; it only served as a reminder that she could move on without him. And so he remained quiet, wishing not for the first time that she had made a different choice.
*
The first month was the hardest. Others often found him working until early in the morning, only going home to crash on his couch for a few hours and take a shower and change. His bed only served to heighten the sense of loss he felt and so he chose to avoid it.
He found himself thinking about their past more often with every passing day, ignoring the sinking feeling he felt when he would realise that a few months ago, he could only think of their future. He would feel frustrated, irritated, drained or simply stressed, and needed her to calm him, except she wasn't there. In those moments where exhaustion took over, his mind would wander, and he'd think of something as simple as her smile, the way her eyes lit up when he did something right, and he'd miss her even more. The little idiosyncrasies that only he knew about would come to mind at the strangest times and make him smile. He didn't realise he'd catalogued her every mood, expression, tone, or even scent; he doesn't know how or when that happened, but he's grateful it did.
Now his mind won't stop thinking about all the little changes in her that he doesn't get to experience.
*
Alone with his thoughts, after those nights where CJ had dragged him to a bar to get him drunk or to her apartment on the pretence of work to make sure he slept longer than three hours, he'd think about regrets. He'd think about the reasons he used to keep them apart.
She's his assistant
She's eleven years younger
She's not his 'type'
She doesn't love him and even if she did, he'd find a way to screw things up and lose her
A drunken Sam would inevitably tell him to get his head out of his ass; they were excuses and nothing more. He's a world-class political mind; he could find a way to make the politics work. At his lowest points, he's reminded he did find a way to make it work. The simple truth he chose to ignore for four years, and continues to ignore, is that he's a little insecure when it comes to Donna. He was afraid of things he didn't quite understand; it was that fear that kept him from acting on, or at times, acknowledging his feelings, and everything else was just an excuse.
He was in love with her and he had no idea what that meant for their future.
Women in the past have always been a means to a distraction. He doesn't ever remember pursuing a woman for the simple reason he liked her. Rather, he had always been propelled into action over the need for a distraction, to not think about his father dying, or his assistant allowing another man into her life. Attracted to women he knew he could never love, he felt safe to be with them; he knew eventually he wouldn't care that he'd lost them.
He didn't know what to do when he finally found a woman he didn't want to lose.
He felt safer in loving her from afar. He didn't think he could stand the heartbreak of losing her once he let her in. And she would leave him. Everyone he loves eventually does. He couldn't allow himself to be reckless with her feelings; his life with her was too valuable and so he was forced into limbo.
As Sam fell asleep, he'd watch CJ look over at his friend with a fond smile, and he'd think back over the previous nights, slowly recalling the way Sam had delicately touched her. When things changed for Sam, he didn't know, but it only served to remind him of how relationships formed when he wasn't looking.
Once again, reminding him of Donna.
He'd think about how jealous he felt when Donna dated other men, about the hidden hope he felt when Joey gave him the '100 Donna's' speech. He'd think about how he flirted with Donna as he tried to determine if Joey was right. He'd think about red lights and feeling giddy with the knowledge he meant that much to her, bouncing over the possibility that Joey could be right.
And then he'd think about Cliff.
He remembers being caught in a haze, a stinging feeling he wouldn't let himself forget. He knows he was hurt; he was beginning to believe that she liked him only to find out she slept with another man. He cursed Joey. He berated himself for allowing the thought that Donna and he could be anything more than friends to enter his mind, even for a single moment. He wanted to hate her. He wanted to forget that he dreamt about waking up with her, that he dreamt of her loving him. Only he couldn't stop wanting her, couldn't stop feeling like a fool for needing her. Instead he fixated on the way she hurt him. He built walls and distanced himself from everything that made him fall in love with her. The only problem with that plan was that he had no idea why or how he fell for her. He was fighting a feeling he didn't want to name. And so once again, he found himself looking for another distraction.
He thinks back now, and he knows Sam was right. He's a walking contradiction because he's a fighter, and when he wants something enough, he'll fight with everything he has because he's afraid of disappointing those who count on him. Only he failed to fight for the thing he wanted most. He was afraid of disappointing her, of failing to be the man she would inevitably want him to be, and more than anything, he couldn't stand the thought of losing her.
Two years later, he's wondering how he managed to misplace the fear of disappointing her because he certainly hasn't managed to confront it. He doesn't know what happened, how he became comfortable with the knowledge that others knew how he felt. He doesn't know what gave him the courage to start the relationship he always wanted. He thinks the fact that he finally knew without a doubt she loved him might have helped, but he honestly doesn't know and he's finding that he can't stop asking the question. How did they happen?
He also knows he doesn't care about the answer. He needs a distraction from the emptiness he feels without her, and he's no longer interested in using other women to misdirect himself, so the question is enough. Once again he thinks about contradictions.
Did he fail to fight for the one thing he wanted more than anything?
He's never asked Donna the question, and yet she's always managed to find a way to answer him, but he can never seem to find comfort from her words because he's now haunted with the thought that he did the one thing he promised he'd never do. He failed her. He failed to fight for her.
He failed to convince her to stay with him.
*
They were in his office - himself, Donna, CJ and Will - laughing about something he can't quite remember now, when Donna threw out one of her non-sequitors.
"I'm thinking of going back to college."
Silenced for a moment, he didn't quite know how to respond. He doesn't like change. He loves spending his days with her and then going home with her. Selfishly he didn't want that to change. But he knew she didn't recognise her job as an assistant as a step to a career. She didn't want to work for the White House, she wanted to work for Josiah Bartlet's Administration, and she wanted to work with him. Beyond that, she didn't know what she wanted. Until recently. Until they started dating and she began to believe she could do more. And now she wants to work for the Smithsonian, she wants to earn the right to work there, and perhaps a degree isn't the validation she needs, but there are things she needs to learn that he can't teach her. And she wants to learn. And because he's proud of her, of everything she's learned and everything she has yet to become, he couldn't do anything but encourage her to follow whichever path she chose. He couldn't be anything but thrilled as her eyes lit up, knowing he believed in her, knowing she had his support. And if he learned anything over the course of their relationship, friendship or otherwise, it's that making her happy makes him feel content.
It didn't hit him until later that her future might not include him.
*
Her newly acquired habit of spouting bits of trivia in French, that he once found endearing, now served to suffocate him, to taunt him, adding to the long list of things he'd miss when she left. He mustered false enthusiasm and tried to cover the stifling feelings he felt whenever someone questioned her of her plans, and she replied with an enigmatic smile that among other things, she wanted to master a new language. He remembers sitting in Leo's office with Donna, watching as Leo gave her an affectionate smile while she talked about her goals and what she would be working toward, her excitement radiating from her. He realised Leo was comparing the Donna in front of him to the one he met in Nashua, and he wanted to simultaneously mock Donna for talking herself in circles, and beam at the paternal pride Leo exuded toward her. Except, he couldn't get past the thought of spending sixteen hours at the office without her there.
He never once entertained the possibility of her applying to colleges outside of D.C., and he only now realises how selfish that made him. He didn't know how to react when he saw the application letter for Harvard sitting on his kitchen counter, half filled in, almost ready to post. And two years later he's thankful that she chose to go for a run that morning, because he's not sure what he would have said or done had she been there; he only knows that there wouldn't have been any kind of relationship left.
He didn't think by encouraging her to pursue a dream, he'd lose her completely.
He spent the next few months subtly trying to point out all the great things about Georgetown, going so far as to bring Zoey in on his plan. In his own way, he was asking her to choose him. He didn't know how to feel when she didn't. He didn't want to know how he felt. He swallowed his bitterness and tried to make the most of her remaining days in D.C., of the time left in which he came home to her, but instead, he found himself snapping at her because she recited trivia, in French.
*
Eight months ago he tried to start a letter, but the piece of paper lay on the centre of his desk at home, void of any ink. For the subsequent months it remained a blank canvas. He didn't know who to address the letter to or even it's purpose, he just had a sudden moment of clarity driving him into his study. But once he was there, with the paper in front of him, he didn't know how to begin.
*
The next night he sat in the Roosevelt Room, one of a million late nights at the office, this time with CJ, Sam and Will, and the still present White House counsel, Joe. They sat eating take away and laughing, the work long forgotten.
Margaret came in, composed as ever, but her face a mask hiding the trepidation that no one noticed until Josh read the little post-it. He silently walked back to his office, not sure he wanted to answer this call. Not sure he had the strength to listen to the voice on the other end.
She had been attacked.
A concussion, a broken arm, and several bruises. She was hurt and he wasn't there. She was hurt and she relied on another man to take care of her. He could only stand silently by his desk as this new man in her life nervously called to tell him she was in a hospital. He listened and read between the lines; she didn't want him to know she'd been hurt. She didn't want him to know and the only thing that came to mind was that she didn't trust him to be there for her.
All he could think of were broken promises.
He sat in the dark thinking about red lights. She was in a hospital being taken of by someone that wasn't him. He knew he should have been grateful that she wasn't alone, but he couldn't stop thinking about how he was. He couldn't stop thinking about how he should be there, instead of waiting to talk to Leo. He couldn't stop thinking about stopping for beer and the empty feeling inside threatened to suffocate him.
*
Four months later he was walking around his apartment, cleaning blindly as he listened to her debate issues for her paper over the phone. He played the role of devil's advocate and smiled to himself as he heard the frustration in her tone. He imagined her furrowed brow and grinned at the thought that she could be so far away, and yet feel so close. He'd remind himself that Harvard really wasn't all that far away, but then he heard another voice and laughter at something he couldn't see. And suddenly she was no longer trying to convince him of her position, but instead the man sitting across from her.
He'd begun to hate the man on the other end of the phone. He got to see Donna glow as she debated while Josh had to sit back and imagine how she'd look. He got to see and hear her excited rants, share food with her and watch the faces she made at the sexist crap she saw on the television, while Josh had to think back to the nights where he'd purposely turn to a channel airing Reality TV just so he could watch her get indignant over the lack of good television.
He thought about choices and made one of his own.
*
He'd finally finished the letter, if he could call it that. It was simple and plain, with little explanation for anything. He realised that he couldn't find the words because this wasn't something he could run away from. The sentiments he needed to express could only be done face to face, and so the piece of paper became nothing more than an introduction to everything he didn't think he'd ever say.
*
He's tired of waking up to the sound of her voice over the phone, of weekend trips that are inevitably cut short due to his need to be in Washington, of listening to the moments that are currently defining her. The midnight calls, short visits and emails aren't enough to tie her to him.
He remembers back to when she was attacked. He remembers Margaret booking him a flight to Boston as Leo sat silently, appraising his deputy. And he remembers the absolute look of relief on Donna's face when she woke up in the morning to see him there and the joy it gave him to know that beneath her façade, she needed him there. He remembers chiding her for not calling him instantly and listening to her reasons—she was fine and he was needed at the White House. She didn't want him to worry over something he had no control over, because he's Josh, and that's what he does. He somehow manages to blame himself for everything that goes wrong and she loves him too much to burden him with another guilt. She failed to realise that her not trusting him to be there for her is what hurt him the most.
She joked with him about running red lights, and he hid the fact that he got Leo to pull the 'White House' card and get him to her much sooner than he otherwise would have. She teased him of being jealous of her new friend regardless of the fact that Giles would be more likely to fall for him. He protested her observations in jest, never once telling how much it hurt him that he wasn't there to witness her develop all her new quirks, as Giles could and did. He never once told her that the time they managed to spend together over the past year-and-a-half was never enough. And when she wished they'd have time for more moments together, he did his best to never let her see how he'd have to bite his tongue from making a snide comment about how it was her choice to leave D.C. They have a long-distance relationship and that was never his choice, but hers.
Almost two years had passed and he's somehow found a way to stop himself from asking why she chose the path that left him alone.
As he sat on the hospital bed, he thought about the choice he never made. The choice he didn't even consider. And then he thought of the letter he had yet to write. He wondered if he was strong enough to walk away from what he always thought he wanted, what he still wants and has worked so hard to achieve. He gave up so much to be where he is, professionally. But at that moment, as he watched her fight the need to sleep, to be awake and with him, he realised that some things are too valuable to give up.
He began to realise he had choice.
*
The letter now sits on Leo's desk, as it has for the past 2 months, while Josh finally arrives in Boston. He made a decision, and not one he ever imagined making, but he's strangely content. For now, this is what he needs to do.
He was surprised Leo accepted his resignation, his face housing a look of fatherly pride and boss-like reluctance. He spent hours in Leo's office, trying his absolute best to convince him it was the right time for him to leave, because just like with Donna, Josh fears disappointing Leo too. He's not sure what he said to gain Leo's support, but he's not going to question this. Because he's finally learned, sometimes you should just accept the gifts you're given and enjoy them. The political side of him has chosen to take a back seat at the moment; he knows that a few months from now, he'll get a call from Leo, asking him what he thinks of an underdog Congressman who isn't the next Jed Bartlet, but the next best thing.
For now, his dimples are out in full force, as an excited Donna greets him at the airport, surprised by what she believes is his snap decision to visit her, and she notices, for the first time in two years, his face has completely lit up.
Four years ago, she could never have left him to pursue a dream that took her away from him, she didn't have faith in them to not drift apart. Two years ago, she walked away from her life in D.C. and he failed to understand that she didn't walk away from him. Instead she trusted him to keep his promise and not let her go without a fight. Today, he became someone he respected but never before truly understood. He chose not to give up on the one thing he wanted more than anything. He chose to follow her and, for right now, it's his little secret because she doesn't know of all that he left behind to be with her.
Standing at the door to her home, he thinks back to the night he walked her home after celebrating the birth of Toby's children, a bundle of nervous energy, ready to start a future already in motion. He thinks back to Nashua and a campaign badge that exchanged hands, and he thinks of the moment he listened to her softly talking to a sleeping Molly and Huck only a few hours after they were born.
That's all he wants. Moments. A lifetime of moments with her. He's made thousands of promises to her in every singularly unimportant moment they've shared, and he makes another one right here and now as he softly kisses her.
He'll never allow his fears to fail her again.
The End.
For those who cannot read without knowing…
This takes place about two-and-a-half years after 'It Was Never The History She Remembered,' in which J/D finally get together. Donna is now at Harvard getting her degree, and she and Josh have a long distance relationship. This fic relates Josh's difficulty dealing with this arrangement, and the decision he comes to in regard to that—this, like its predecessor, ends with a new beginning for J/D.
The summary for the next in this series…
She wonders if hearts are made of glass, and if so, is that shattering she hears in the nights distant.