OK, this is the reason why there hasn't been a new chapter of "Friends in Low Places," but I do promise to get back to work on that!
BTW this is set in a completely different universe from that one!
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, story is.
Different This Time
She stared out of the hospital window at the falling snow, the knowledge that it was different this time oppressing.
He was a cop, not a politician.
She was married to him, not his assistant.
She was on her own, not surrounded by people who cared.
And yet, the words had been the same.
Swallowing back tears, she wrapped her arms tighter around herself, wishing for his as she chastised herself for the path her thoughts were taking. She shouldn't be thinking these things. Comparing today to one a handful of years before. She'd left that place, that life, over 3 years ago to take another job. She hadn't wanted to but she had been starting to burn out and she had needed the money, not that it did her any good in the end. And when the dot.com company had been bought out, she had been one of the few people kept on and then transferred here. They'd been introduced by her new boss. . . everything had gone fairly well. Marriage, family, were things she thought she'd never have, bit somehow with him she had. They'd been happy during their two years as a couple. Comfortable. . .
Struggling to keep a hold on her control, she swiped at the tears on her cheeks, trying to remind herself that it would be worse sitting in that waiting room with his niece, sister-in-law, and ex-wife. To be faced with the accusations of insensitivity that still rang in her head. i How could she 'know' what the doctors would say? How could she have not 'known' when she opened the door to find Secret Service Agents there? Didn't she think to say something to keep Maxie and Georgie from putting on the news?/i
And what was she supposed to say? I know because someone else I knew was hurt the same way and I can't bear to hear the percentages again? That when you spent years working at 1600 the Secret Service doesn't phase you all that much till you realize that they're vetting you on the way to the hospital when it shouldn't be necessary since you went to a wedding at the former couples home a mere two months ago and they'd know that if any of them actually gave a damn and would stop trying to sabotage your marriage!
And what good would that do, she wondered as she leaned her hand against the window, understanding perhaps for the first time why Josh had put his hand through one as she fisted her own against the cold smooth surface.
G-d, the pain--- the fear--- it was so overwhelming that she couldn't fight it anymore, she thought as she crumpled to the floor. . .
hr
He sat in the cab watching as the dark streets passed by and the snow fell.
It was different this time, he tried to remind himself.
They were shooting at his ex-wife, not his boss.
A man he had never met was 'hit,' not a close friend.
Someone else was covered in blood.
This time he was clean.
And yet, from the moment he heard, he had known he had to come.
It was news. If it wasn't he wouldn't have known.
Some unidentified police officer had been shot in the line of duty when he had been protecting a visiting congresswoman who was meeting with foreign dignitaries in some town few people had even heard of.
But he had heard of it.
And still, as the news had crossed his desk he hadn't thought much of it. Yeah, he had known she would have known the downed officer, she was married to the police commissioner after all! He also knew it would bring up memories for all of them. (These types of stories always did.)
But it was the call that had sealed his fate.
He'd been relieved to hear Andi's voice, even if it was strained, but her words as he asked her if she was ok. . . .i "Lucky for me I was walking next to the Police Commissioner, can't say it was lucky for him though," she had quipped. And although he knew she was fighting to fend off shock, he couldn't help but ask for more details. He had to find out if it was who the knot in his gut told him it was, and he hadn't had to explain. i"Toby, it you're asking because of the blonde who worked for Josh Lyman, she just walked in and she doesn't look like she's taken whatever news she's being given too well."/i
It had taken everything in him not to ask how she thought Donna should be reacting considering her husband had taken a bullet meant for her. Hell, he still wondered how he refrained, and only ask her to try to stay near Donna and keep him informed. Then he had hung up and pulled as many strings as possible to get here and to keep their names out of the news. The two sides of him at odds, he thought dryly as the cab came to a stop outside of the hospital and he stepped out of it, inhaling the wet, cold, air as a voiced mocked him that it was different this time all right.
hr
He stepped out of the men's room still wiping at his hand with the rough institutional brown paper towel, and although he couldn't see it any more, the blood was still all too present in his mind. He'd had blood on his hands before, but this time it was different.
This time it was his friend's, and not some stranger's.
This time it was a cop's whose vest should've stopped it, and not some thug whose only way out of the life he chose was to die.
This time he had to tell the woman whose wedding he had been an usher at and not some stranger that her husband was fighting for his life for no other reason than that he was doing his job.
Crumpling the towel in his hands, he couldn't help but wonder at her reaction to the news. He'd bungled telling her. He knew that, but the only words that would come out of his mouth were 'He was hit.' She had acted like he had hit her as she looked towards the floor, only her eyes had stopped on his blood stained shirt. And for those handful of seconds as she stared transfixed as her husband's drying blood searching for words, it had seemed she was somewhere else. He had an eerie certainty that it was her own words that pulled her out of it. He could hear her soft 'who was hit,' echoing in his head even now.
Anna, Robin, and Felicia had demanded more. Wanted to know the hows, whys, and what had gone wrong, but she had barely seemed to grasp the reality that was facing her. So he'd answered as calmly as he could: "Mac. Mac was hit. A sniper opened fire on us. . ."
It had been too much, too soon, he realized now. She'd just started to shake, and if he hadn't reached out because he thought she'd collapse, he would have missed the anguished 'it can't be happening again,' that escaped her lips. Not that he knew what it meant, or that he had the chance to find out.
The Secret Service had wanted answers and as acting. . . well, it was his job to give them to them.
And then he had to convince Dara that he was fine.
There was the peacekeeping he had to do between Donna and Robin and Felicia.
And he couldn't help but feel guilty that he'd lost track of Donna somewhere in the last few hours.
She was the one with no support here.
Whose support had been thrown out because either Robin or Felicia couldn't stand the women in question.
Whose support had been worried about him.
Throwing the ball of paper in his hands into a nearby garbage can, he decided it was past time he checked on her.
It was different this time. The family of the downed officer was his responsibility.
hr
hr
Toby walked quickly down the corridor of the hospital slightly annoyed at the lax security. An assassination attempt had been made and yet so far he hadn't been more than glanced at as he made his way down the hall of the surgical wing.
But that was just another difference of the time and place, he thought as he turned a corner to see Andi arguing with a tall black man. "Andi!" he called, hurrying his step slightly as the man turned away from his ex-wife and into the room behind them. Meanwhile, she turned at the sound of her name. As she faced him he could see the strain on her face.
"Toby," she sighed as she stepped into his arms for a reassuring embrace.
"How are you holding up?" he asked as he stepped back, and shoved his hands into his pockets.
"I'm holding up, although I don't know how I'll close my eyes without seeing. . ." she shook her head as she wrapped her arms around herself.
"The images fade in time," he said softly.
"But never completely?" she wondered as she saw the glint of memories better forgotten in his eyes. Unable to deal with that she went on the defensive. "But you're not exactly here for me, now are you?"
"Andi," he sighed as he ran a hand over his face trying to find the words.
"It's not worth it."
"Andi, you're my ex-wife and I care about you, but. . ."
"But I'm not the one who needs you right now," she finished on a sigh. "One of your best and worse traits is the way you're there for people. Of course the fact that that person more often than not was someone other than me was one of the reasons we didn't make it."
"Although I realize that getting shot at makes one reflective, I'm really not up to a trip down, 'it's your fault our marriage failed lane,'" Toby shot back.
"That's not. . ." she inhaled and shook her head. "She's not the only one who needs someone right now!"
"Maybe not, but she's the one who's husband is lying on an operating table," Toby reminded dryly, inwardly cursing himself as Andi balanced.
"Because of me, right?"
"I didn't say that."
"Yeah, but you're thinking it. Hell, the cop who just went in to check on her came right out and said it!"
"It wasn't your fault. The man was doing his job."
"Yeah, well, it's not going to make me sleep much better, now is it?"
"Andi. . ."
"Go check on Donna, Toby. She could use a friend right now. Besides, you're right. She does need you more than I do. I'll be fine."
"You always are," Toby said shaking his head as he watched her turn away. "Hey, Andi."
"Yeah?" she asked wearily as she looked back at him over her shoulder.
"I owe you lunch when I get back to DC."
"Make it dinner and you have a deal."
"I'll call your assistant," Toby replied shaking his head before he turned and went into the room he had seen the other man go into when he arrived.
hr
Taggart walked into the quiet room and stood immobile. The sight of Donna sitting on the floor, knees drawn to her chest and head down almost too much for him to bear. Swallowing, he wondered if he should intrude on her grief, but knew he couldn't just leave her alone like this.
Slowly, he moved towards her, not wanting to startle her with any sudden moves, and slowly lowered his frame to the floor next to her. He watched as she raised her head slightly, cocking it to one side to look at him before letting out a shuddered breath and burying her head in her knees once more.
He didn't know what to do.
Truth was Mac was always better at this, so he only looked at her.
Watched as her shoulders shook slightly, unable to move or say anything.
He didn't know how long he sat there before the sounds of footsteps reached his ears. Concerned, he looked up to see a middle-aged, balding man who seemed to wear the clock of politics approaching them. "You shouldn't be here," Taggart admonished softly as the man came closer, slapping gloves against his hands before sticking them back into his pockets.
"Looks like this is exactly where I need to be," Toby spat back, ignoring the black man's glare as he crouched down on the side of Donna and reached out a gentle hand, only to let it hover over her shoulder. "Hi, Donna. How you holding up?" he asked gruffly, hoping for some sort of reaction as she raised a tear stained face to him. He watched quietly as she blinked a few times before swallowing back tears.
"Toby," she acknowledged softly as she wiped at the drying tracks of her tears. "What are you. . ." she started then shook her head. "Wait. . . ummm. . . Congresswoman Wyatt was there, right? I mean I thought I saw her here, but. . ." she looked blankly past him trying to remember.
"Andi's fine. I just spoke to her, but she's not the only one who I was worried about," he told her softly, as he put his hand on her shoulder.
That was all it too to bring her back. She swallowed slightly, wanting to look any where but at him. To see anything but the knowing mixture of concern and compassion in his eyes because it was so like that other night. "He was hit. . ." she said pulling away from his touch and staring at his chest, half expecting to see blood stains on his shirt.
Toby allowed his hand to drop to his knees and he frowned slightly. "Yeah. I know."
"Not. . ." she shook her head. "I mean. . ." But she couldn't say it. Saying it would make it too real.
"I know," Toby said as he ignored the questioning look from the other man and reached out to her again, watching as her mind started to process all that the events meant.
Watching as past and present collided in her mind and on her face.
Donna swallowed hard as she swiped hair out of her face and straightened her legs out in front of her, looking at her hands while he waited for her to say something. Slowly she looked at him, the fear and heartbreak on her face almost enough to undo even him, as she moved her hands to rub her arms, suddenly aware of the coldness of the floor beneath and wall behind her. "It's different this time," she said, her voice breaking as she stared Toby directly in the eyes.
"Yeah, it is," he said uneasily.
"I don't want. . ." she shook her head and looked away to see Taggart watching them. There was no escape from the warring emotions in her, she realized as she tried to let her mind wander the way it had before.
"You should leave her alone," Taggart said softly.
"Like hell!" Toby shot back tensely. Taking in the other man's glare he only shook his as he watched Donna staring blankly at the wall out of the corner of his eye. "I've been glare down by better and more powerful. I was one of the people there with her when someone else was hit, so excuse me for saying that I think I kinda have more of a right to be here. Besides, you really think it's good to let her retreat like this?"
"And your way's that much better?" Taggart shot back testily.
Toby only shrugged and put a hand on Donna's shoulder as he moved to his knees. The contact caused her to look at him, although she wasn't focusing on him. "What don't you want?" he pushed as she tried to pull away both physically and emotionally. "Come on, Donna. Talk to me here. You're starting to scare me with this silence. None of us have ever been exactly silent now have we? Now, tell me, what don't you want?"
"It's different," she whimpered.
"Yeah. We covered that," Toby replied in the dry humor that was all of their trademarks in times of crisis.
"I don't want it to be," she got out as she focused tormented eyes on him before asking the question that addressed all of her fears. "What if it's different that way too?"
Toby inhaled sharply at that as he looked down. He knew he had to answer her somehow, but. . .looking back at her, into her eyes he knew he had to be honest. "I don't know."
"I'm scared, Toby," she sighed. "I don't want to lose him," she added as the tears started to fall freely and he took her into his arms, allowing her to cry on his shoulder. His eyes connected with the black man's who was torn between confusion and surprise. He watched as the other man let his hand hover over Donna's back, knowing he felt like an intruder. But that wasn't Toby's concern. Donna was. Looking at her the back of her head, he started to rock slightly, wanting to try to soothe her.
How long she cried, Donna didn't know. All she knew was that she heard footsteps coming towards them.
Heard Taggart's slight indrawn breath.
Felt Toby tense slightly.
"No. It's too soon," she whispered as she pulled away from Toby and slid back to the wall, not wanting to see who had come in.
Toby turned his head to see a woman in surgical scrubs and started to rise, as did Taggart. And as he struggled slightly to get to his feet, he watched the look pass between them and knew that there wouldn't be a reprieve this time.
"Donna," Monica Quartermain started, but stopped as the younger woman looked to the balding man and tried to choke back a sob as she started to get to her feet.
"He was hit, Toby," she said softly as she leaned against the wall for support.
Swallowing hard, he could only nod as he started at the floor, trying to find the words she needed. But all that came to him were the patterns of the past. "Yeah, I know," he said gruffly as he moved to stand next to her.
"It's January, not May."
"I know."
"He's my husband, not my boss."
"A huh," he sighed as he leaned against the wall and balled and unballed his hand.
"It's different this time," she said as she started to crumple, only to be held up by the two men as Monica looked away.
"Yeah. It's different this time," Toby started as he turned her to him. "And I wish for your sake it wasn't," he added softly as she buried her head into his shoulder. Only this time instead of tears, it absorbed her cries of anguish as he tried to keep her upright.
And the thought he had walking down that corridor repeated in his head one more time. i It was different this time, all right./i