Dawning Light

by Aries Zodiac

Direct sequel to Shadows Before Dawn. The night has finally ended and the long road to recovery begins. The repercussions are felt.

Dawning Light

Sequel to Shadows Before Dawn

Aries

Authors Notes: The point to the ep. In the Shadow of two Gunmen was that the attack was racially motivated. I'm dealing with themes that some people might find disturbing, as the staff discover how much some people can hate them for what religion, gender or colour they are.

Racism is horrible and anyone can become a victim of it, just depending on where they are at a given time. One of the great things about sites like this is that there is no colour or creed.

Dawning Light

Josh:

I don't remember much about those first few days- anything after the first ear-splitting 'BANG' at the Newseum is a bit on the blurry side. Apparently I gave everyone quite a scare. I was on the news for it as well. Damn- my 15 minutes of fame and I was unconscious for all of it.

Well- not all all of it. I wasn't quite telling everyone the truth when I said I couldn't remember anything. I do remember waking up on the operating table. I think that one's going to be the feature of a couple of nightmares to come.

Oh, hell- it looks like I've been awake too long- here comes Nurse Happy Juice with the dreaded needle…

Jed Bartlett:

I had been nervous going into that room but felt cowardly staying outside. Josh wasn't a child- he was well capable of making his own decisions and taking the responsibility and the consequences to them- but I still felt guilty for his having been there. For his being on my staff and thus put into a position of danger.

And I felt guilty as hell for leaving him and the others behind.

They thought I hadn't heard that horrible whisper of 'brain- damage'. To keep me from worrying with my own lovely little scar-to-be- but I had heard it. And even if I hadn't, well I knew the score- his heart stopped. There was no blood flowing to his brain for almost a minute. I'm married to a doctor as I think I may have mentioned, and I knew the chances.

So we stood outside the door- Leo and I, and steeled ourselves to go in. I looked at him.

"Are you ready for this, Leo?" I asked. It wasn't going to be easy for me, but it would be ten times harder to the one whom had known Josh from childhood. Who had promised his father that he would watch out for him when he could. He nodded- and we went in.

I don't know what we expected- that he'd already be awake? Or something would keep our minds from thinking about just how awful he looked, lying there? There was nothing of the talkative, often brash, intelligent man we knew. There was no life or soul there. I feared then that perhaps the whisper might be truth and that there would never be more then a shell. I glanced again at Leo who was staring fixedly at the too-still body on the bed with more tubes and wires then I really wanted to count. I realised that I was the only one in the room breathing. Josh was hooked up to a ventilator and Leo… was about to turn purple. I leaned over and pushed his arm slightly- just enough to get his attention.

"Breathe, Leo" I muttered. "You won't do Josh any good if you've passed out on the floor." He looked up at me sheepishly as he remembered what his own lungs were for. He sighed.

"I don't know what I expected," he said quietly. "I knew it wouldn't be good but…"

"You can't prepare for something like this, Leo" I told him. "But he's made it this far. He's a fighter. He'll make it the rest of the way too." I so wanted to believe it but I didn't know if I could. It seemed to help Leo though.

"Yeah- he is." he said.

At this moment a doctor and the duty-nurse came back in causing me to look up. I realised that Donna, C.J, Toby and Sam were standing at the window looking in. Just waiting.

The doctor frowned. "Has he not woken up yet?" he asked turning to the nurse. She looked back at him uncomfortably. "The situation during the operation…" she began before he nodded in understanding. "Even so…"

At this point Josh decided to break in by showing his first sign of life- a twitch of one hand.

"He'll be disoriented and probably alarmed waking up" said the nurse briskly. "Talking to him- physical contact with people he knows will help." I nodded and reached out my hand to rest it lightly on his head.

"Josh? Josh, it's okay. I want you to wake up now…" It seemed to work slightly- but would he even recognize us? Would there be… what that demoralising whisper of rumour suggested? I hoped…

The eyes opened a crack and watered at the light. Leo moved around a bit to shield him from the glare. He was awake, but was he responsive? Josh's eyes had tracked Leo as he moved but there didn't seem to be much in the way of recognition there. He coughed slightly and tried to say something. Yup- that's Josh- at deaths door one minute and up and complaining about it the next!

"I didn't hear you, Josh?" I glanced at Leo. "What did he say?" Leo leaned over to listen better. Josh whispered it again. Leo straightened up, grinning like a maniac.

"He said, 'What's next?' "

C.J:

When we heard those words we cheered outside the room. Donna just stood there for a second and I grabbed her arm- terrified she was going to faint. She turned to me with her eyes brimming again before jumping on me and hugging me, before hugging everyone else as well. It went very group-huggy for a while there- even Toby who's hardly given to these public displays was grinning like a fool.

Inside the room it looked like Josh had keeled over again and I was wondering whether to be alarmed or not. The nurse inside looked at him and shooed the President of the United States and his Chief of Staff- shooed them out of the room. It was pretty damn impressive, I have to say. They shooed too, which was even more impressive. Then she moved her disruption-radar onto us and we were ordered unceremoniously out.

"This boy is recovering from a serious operation." she told us bluntly in a rich Scots accent. "There shouldn't be so many of you- there shouldn't be any of you here at this stage!" she sniffed. "However, when the President says…" She flicked her hand dismissively to show what she thought about that. She managed to convey in this one gesture that if it had been up to her the President could've taken a running jump.

"Er…" said the aforementioned President feebly. It was obvious that he hadn't been spoken to like this for a long time! He didn't get much further as she fixed him with a steely glare.

"And you! Go on the lot of you- take the celebrations elsewhere if you please and let the boy heal! Out!"

So we outed. We were outnumbered and outclassed by this one burly Scotswoman. She followed us to the door and stopped us again when we got there with an unexpected smile.

"Congratulations-he's not out of the woods yet, but I think you've got your bairn back." I stifled a smile at 6 foot, late- 30- something year old Josh Lyman being called a 'bairn'. She caught me however and did the gimlet-eye impression on me again. I gulped- not envying Josh his stay in intensive care under this dragon at all!

"I meant it now! Now- today till about Thursday he'll be sleeping the operation off. He can have one visitor a day for half an hour, or two well spaced ones for ten minutes each. I don't want to see any of you in here until tomorrow afternoon at the absolute earliest." She turned and dived back again into her ken.

We left, slightly giddy, returned to the Presidents recovery room and sat down without looking at each other. Sam broke first.

"B…bairn!"

That did it- we were all whooping with laughter- relief, joy, pent-up stress, fear and frustration all being let out in one fell swoop. Sam, Donna, and myself had tears running down our cheeks, Leo and Toby were gasping slightly for breath and the President was staring determinedly in the opposite direction as he fought to get a hold on himself- he had been shot in the side after all. Myself, Leo, Toby and Sam followed his example, staring in other directions to settle ourselves but someone would always break too early and catch someone else's eye. There would be a strangled snort of suppressed laughter or a whisper of 'bairn…!' and we were all off again into a bout of near-hysterical hilarity. I looked at Donna and that sobered me up. She wasn't laughing any more; there were tears running down too-pale cheeks.

"Donna?" I asked quietly. She looked at me with the remnants of that long, hard night of worry and pain still in her eyes.

"We nearly lost him tonight-" she said quietly before finally breaking down into silent, boneshaking sobs. Her quiet voice had sobered everyone up. I took her into my arms, like I had earlier and held on to her until the storm passed.

Toby:

She was right. We had nearly lost him tonight. But though I'm no psychologist, even I could see that that bout of hilarity was exactly what we needed to let it out. And Donna's tears were what she needed to let her own feelings out. We've all got our own ways of coping and I had to say- the laughing seemed to help all of us. Donna had recovered as well and wiped her eyes sheepishly. She would be fine too. I looked around and everyone was sitting straighter now- no longer bowed by the weight of worry.

On the other hand, we were all exhausted. And it was still only 8 o'clock in the morning.

Damn.

"Is there anything we should be doing right now, Mr. President?" asked CJ tiredly.

"Yes- you can all go home and go to bed. Don't think I haven't noticed you've been up all night." he replied. "Leo, can you just stay behind a minute and then I'll let you go. The rest of you- go on. CJ- I'll need- no, Linda can do today's Press Conference."

"Thank-you, sir" as we all traipsed out.

"And I, too, don't want too see any of you near work until tomorrow!" he shouted after us.

"We do seem to be getting ordered out a lot today, don't we." muttered Sam to me.

"At the moment, that's fine by me" I replied. We got as far as the carpark before realising that, between the four of us - five if you included Leo, we only had one small car- Sam's. He sighed, but before he could say anything we saw Charlie and Zoey (with Gina Toscano and probably at least two or three other Secret Agents keeping an eye on them) coming towards us.

"I heard Josh woke up? That's great! Does that mean he's out of danger?" called Zoey as they neared. I waited till they were a bit closer before replying.

"He's not out of the woods yet but he woke up and recognised Leo and the President, so it's looking good."

"And rec…-there was a chance he wouldn't? Did they think…!"

Oh no- not another crying female, even if it was Zoey, please!

"Zoey- it's okay- it looks like we will have the normal Josh back in a couple of months."

"During which time we may still be standing out here if we don't make a move" I growled. I admit- I was cranky. Is that a cardinal sin? From the half- resigned, half- amused, half- mildly-pissed-off looks that got thrown at me, apparently yes it was. I was quite impressed by Sams look in particular- it's not everyone that can show 150 of their emotions on their faces.

"How are you getting back? Or are you staying here for a while?" CJ asked.

"No- I'm going back to get some things for Dad" replied Zoey. "Do you need a lift?"

"If you could take one or two of these, that would be great, Zoey" put in Sam. "I think my car has just about had it. Two or three's the most it can take. Including the driver."

"Well- do you need to go back to the White House in particular, Sam?" I asked. "I came in this morning- yesterday, by bus, so I don't really need to go back."

"And you're only across the street anyway." added CJ. "So if me and Donna could come back with you Zoey, that'd be great."

"Donna? Sam? That okay with you? Okay then, the car awaits!"

So I ended up getting a lift with Sam in that semi- mobile piece of junk he likes to call a car. Mind you, considering mine was getting the squash- treatment in the car-graveyard right around this time, I couldn't really say much.

Donna:

I followed CJ, Charlie and Zoey out towards the car with something nagging at the back of my brain. Something about the car. Car- My car!

"Oh- I've just remembered!" I said suddenly, causing CJ to jump. "I drove here last night. I can get home all right." CJ looked at me.

"I don't think you can, Donna. You're exhausted. Tell you what- you come with us and I'll give you a lift back from there."

"But…my car…" I could see she was right though. I wouldn't be able to get anywhere driving- except possibly right back into hospital for a room next to Josh's in I.C. CJ looked at Zoey for ideas.

"I'll bring your car back to the White House Donna" said Charlie suddenly.

"Oh, would you? Thank-you, Charlie" I said, relieved. "CJ's right- I don't think I could get it back now."

"Yeah- no problem. Which one is it?" I pointed it out to him and gave him the keys gratefully.

Leo, who had caught up with us, got the front seat and the rest of us sardined in the back. Hey, it's a big car but with seven -us four, the driver, Gina Toscano and another agent I didn't recognise- it was a bit on the squishy side. Mind you, it was getting me ever closer to home and bed so no complaints!.

So I sat in the back of that big black car beside Zoey and- I'm ashamed to admit, conked out completely. The next thing I knew we were back at the White House and Zoey was shaking my arm gently.

"Donna? Donna, we're here. Wake up."

It took me a couple of seconds during which I may have done some muttering. From the giggle- and it was a giggle Zoey Bartlett! I heard you!- above me, I think at least some of it was audible.

"Well, really Donnatella Moss! Do I look like your 'pesky little brothers'?" This woke me up. I was dreaming that I was the subject of my twin toddler brothers' favourite game of a few years back- 'Run into Donna's room and make her shriek by suddenly cannonballing on top of her'

"Now you come to mention it- no, not really", I blushed back, climbing out of the car. "Sorry for falling asleep on top of you like that." I added, realising with a certain amount of embarrassment that I'd gone comatose on the First Daughters shoulder.

"Nah- I did the same thing to CJ as well" she glanced over the top of the car, "Sorry CJ- I think you had both of us there!" CJ waved it off.

"No problem. Thanks for the lift. Donna- I just need to grab a few things- I'll be out in a minute. You need anything?

I shook my head- all I needed was sleep-for a few days at least.

C.J:

Poor Donna- she looked all in. Well- I'd only be a second. I hoped. First I was going to need tactics to get in and out of the White House without a sudden deluge of people trying to give me enough work to do that I'd be snowed under until Christmas. I'd try Rule1 first- avoidance of those who might have urgent work to unload, and of course the perennial guilt-trippers. If Rule 1 failed me there was always Rule 2- Intimidation. The Glare was usually good for that. I was proud of the Glare- it deserved the capital G. What was Rule 3, for the truly determined? Oh yeah- Physical Violence was good. Oh help me, please; I was mind-babbling like a maniac.

I walked through the White House's hallowed corridors on automatic to get to my office. There were one or two things I'd need. Like my car-keys. Hey, I'd been in a hurry! I got to my office- so far, so good. Then I paused. Oh hell- I could bet no-one had thought to tell Josh's bunch in his department of the building that he'd made it. I was so going to get caught- but I could hardly not tell them. I still had a slightly cheesy grin on my face as I remembered that we'd all survived the night and that Josh was going to be okay.

"Hey- people?" I called into the large partitioned room full of depressed people. They looked up for news.

"Is it about Josh?" someone called from the back.

"Yup" This got all the rest of the heads up. No matter how annoying- incredibly annoying- loud, and on occasion just plain daft Josh can be- these people worked for him because they wanted to. They liked him, because he always listened when there was a problem and did his best to sort it out. Because he was on first name basis with all of them and actually knew them all as well. Because, although he pushed them hard- he always pushed himself harder. And because occasionally, he could do something so mind-blowingly dense that there was gossip-fodder for a week.

"CJ?" someone asked. I realised I had zoned out for a second. I shook my head a bit to clear it.

"Sorry- Josh came through the operation successfully and woke up for a minute this morning. It looks like he'll be okay"

The end of this sentence was cut off by a cheer that was way too loud for Josh's ego ever to be allowed hear about.

"That's all folks!" I legged it before someone gave me work to do. Mean, but damn it- I was knackered, okay!

"Donna- you alright?" I asked on getting outside. She was leaning, asleep on her feet against my car. Oh, hell- literally asleep. I opened the passenger-side door and managed to maneuver her inside and fastened the seatbelt without her waking up. Sorry- did I suggest that waking her up would even be possible? That girl could sleep through an earthquake! I started driving in a homewards direction before realising that I had no idea where Donna lives.

"Donna? Donna! Look, I really hate to wake you but…" I reached out and poked her in the side to try get a reaction. I got one all right- just not the one I was expecting!

"No! Behind you! MOVE- He's got a gun! NO!" She was in the grips of a nightmare and, from the thrashing around she was doing, it was a real humdinger. I didn't need a degree in psych to tell what it was about either.

"No! Please- someone do something! Don't just take pictures! Help!" I frowned as Donna trailed off into something inarticulate about mutated sunflowers or something. She seemed to have calmed down a bit but I decided at that point that Donna wasn't going home alone. I didn't think any of us needed to be alone right now.

Lord knows- I didn't either.

I pulled up in front of my house (- hey a house may seem expensive but bear in mind that I have no rent!) and left Donna in the car for a few short minutes while I flew inside to do up a bed in the guestroom. I was going to be hard enough getting Donna that far without having to stop halfway. I went back out again to round her up and somehow brought her inside and up the stairs- alternatively cajoling and threatening. And propping her up against the wall. I swear, she never woke up once. I deposited her into the guestroom bed with everything but her shoes still on- hey if she wasn't going to wake up…

Then, blessedly, mercifully I could seek my own bed out too.

Sam:

I was shattered. It was a good thing I wasn't to be working today after all cos' I'm just saying this for the record now, my blunders would have put Kasighkstan/ Khazekhstan so far into the shade they would never see daylight again. Which might sort the whole nuclear weaponry problem out, mightn't it?

Arghh

Lord save the world from a somnambulist speech writer after he's been shot at and spent a night alternating between work, morning shows and a small sterile room, waiting to hear if his best friend is dead.

September 19th -20th was not going to go down as one of my favourite dates on the calendar. I fact, after last night, Josh Lyman might just be on my 'list' as well. He had scared the hell out of me.

At least I could finally go home. Bed. Sleep. Not think for another few hours about

(screams, explosions, cries for help)

I would have to face the

(screams, chaos, blood)

consequences. I didn't fool myself that I'd just be getting up and

(nice to know someone's got a place Josh? Where are you? place to hideOh my…I need an didn'tyouhearmecalling? AMBULANCE!)

walking away from this.

(the blood- all over his hands. His friends blood. His friends terrified, confused eyes as the blood gushed out with each shallow breath)

I looked down at the corner of the desk- I was clutching it so hard my knuckles creaked in protest. I needed to go home, crawl under the covers and just shut out the world for a while.

(Nice to know someone's got a place to hide.)

I drove home. I tried to. Halfway though the trip turned into a nightmare that I had thought was over. Murphs Bar was a place that I occasionally stopped in for a drink or even (very occasionally) food. Sadly, I couldn't drink with the car. I didn't think that, even if I tried to stay under the limit, I would be able to stop at one. The drinks would multiply way too easily- mocking me for the events of the past night and again for my weakness.

Food however, could be just what I needed. I pulled into the almost empty carpark and parked. I had just taken my keys out of the door when it happened. Someone was screaming inside the building! There was a load explosion that sounded way too familiar and the screaming died off into a gasping gurgle. Again- too familiar. I froze- what to do? I was parked right beside the door. I had no time to move as two young men- one masked and one with blond hair and a baseball cap on his head which fell to the ground as he moved his face to look at me. I hadn't seen the signaller but he fitted Ginas description perfectly. Anyway- I knew it was him. His eyes had no pity, no humanity in them. They were empty and cruel. His hands were still covered in blood, which dripped slowly to the step, where it was joined by another rivulet from inside the door. He looked at me and gave a thin, evil smile of recognition. He raised the gun at me and fired…

"Sam? Sam!" I felt myself falling and my eyes snapped open. I was sitting on the floor of my office and Abigail Bartlett of all people was standing over me with a worried look on her face. I remembered now as I scrambled to my feet. I had come into the office after all because halfway back to the apartment block where Toby, myself and Josh all rented, we had remembered independently (but with a matching groan of exasperation) that we did need some stuff from the office after all. Oiy. So we turned back and I'd told Toby that if he still wanted a lift back he'd want to be nearby in five minutes- after which I was leaving! I then noticed that the First Lady was giving me a very strange look still. No wonder- first I'm thrashing about in a nightmare on the floor of my office, then I zone out for the next couple of minutes without speaking.

"Sam, are you alright?- no, forget I asked that, it was a stupid question." she finished. "More to the point, what are you going to do now? I hope he told you all to go get some rest and didn't just send you all back to the office?" she added in tones that promised dire consequences for the President if he had. I quickly reassured her on that point and said that I was just going home now- and giving Toby a lift back. Her eyebrows shot straight up.

"Samuel Seaborn- you are in no condition to drive right now!" she exclaimed. Her expression softened a bit. "I'm telling you that both a doctor and as a friend- so if you won't listen to one, hear the other out please! Both of you will stay in the Residences today. If Toby's in your state too then he shouldn't be driving either. I'll go find him. Hang on a second." She leaned out the door until she caught sight of who she was looking for. She beckoned over a tall security guard and asked him to show me to the Residences. Or something. I had zoned out again as I fought against falling asleep. I don't remember much after that, but I must have been able to follow him because I found the room all right and thereafter didn't wake up for seven hours. I didn't even feel the slightest bit of guilt about Toby either.

Sorry, Toby.

Abigail Bartlett:

I dread to think what might have happened if Sam had tried driving himself and Toby out to that apartment block. It's almost six miles away- not that far perhaps but going against the flow on a Friday morning rush-hour? In his current state? They'd be massacred by the other drivers. Massacred. Not a good choice of word there Abby, I told myself. I shuddered suddenly- 'goose walking over your grave' as my granny would say. I never understood why. I mean; goose? Why a goose of all things? Sadly however, this wasn't enough to distract me.

When I heard- from the T.V. of all bloody things! that my husband had been shot at- when I saw some of the chaos there…I nearly panicked. My husband and my baby girl were there! I drove to the hospital in a state, only slightly succeeding in calming down before I got there. I was already at the doors before someone actually thought to ring me and inform me that oh yes, my husband had been shot. Thank-you so much. Have a nice day. Of course, this didn't do much for my state of mental equilibrium at all. Then, thank G-d Jed was fine. Then to find out that Josh wasn't. And that cold night of waiting- looking after Donna as well. Poor girl. Now I know that nothing in the least bit unprofessional or indeed improprietous has gone on between those two- nor is it likely to while they work here. They are in fact, just good friends. Sigh. Maybe it is the restless matchmaker in me but… well, they'd either make the perfect couple or they'd drive each other completely up the wall.

Anyway- this musing was getting nothing useful done. I'd better find Toby, having averted the sleeping would-be driver-disaster-waiting-to-happen and thus stranding him totally. It took me only a few seconds to find him where he was mooching in the entrance waiting. I told him that I had sent Sam to the Residences before he did himself a mischief walking into something in his sleep and was in no fit state to drive at all. I alternately mother-henned and bullied him into admitting that he was stranded and exhausted (he didn't put up much off a fight which, frankly, worried me) and triumphantly ordered him off to a guest-room as well. Heaven knows, we have enough of them. Right, two down.

I learned that Donna and CJ had already left in CJs car. I hoped they would be okay and was just relieved it was CJ driving. If it had been Donna I'd have probably called out the National Guard!

I finally stopped and admitted to myself that all I was really doing was keeping myself distracted so that I wouldn't have to actually think. About last night or how terrified I was that I was going to lose my youngest child and my husband in one go. About the relief at finding out they would be fine. And about worse things. My shame at my inner irrational blaming of Charlie when I heard that he had been the real target. I somehow felt that he was guilty of placing my Zoey in danger. Which is rubbish really but… But I'm a mother. I thought I was going to lose my child. I needed a target nearby. Poor Charlie- I don't think he noticed- he was in shock himself. And also when I found out the Josh had been wounded, damn near fatally at that; all I could think for a minute was Thank G-d it wasn't Jed or Zoey.

What does that make me?

Charlie:

I'm just so grateful that that horrible night is finally over. And I'm glad we're all still here to see that glorious dawning light over the trees. Yes, trees. Looking east from the Oval office is a big clump of the, directly in the path of this morning sunrise. It would make you think that you were nowhere near a city. I wasn't sure where I was going or why, right now. I was adrift still. I just needed someplace quiet alone for a minute. Suddenly, that clump of trees outside in the morning sunshine seemed to be calling me. I turned to go- perhaps a walk in the fresh air would blow the cobwebs away before they bound my brain completely and drained all the living juice out. I hadn't even left the office when I nearly crashed right into the First Lady. I greeted her but her usual friendly, cheerful answer was not forthcoming today. She said hi but her eyes slid past me uncomfortably. I knew intuitively then what the problem was, and my earlier doubts returned in full force.

Sorry Zoey, but you weren't quite right when you said that no-one blamed me.

I started walking back towards the door. I knew what the problem was but not how to fix it. Only the First Lady could now. She moved away slightly from the door as I approached so that I could get past before suddenly raising her hand a bit and motioning me to stop.

"Charlie- do you have something you need to be doing?" she asked, sounding unsure of herself- strange thing in itself. "Can I talk to you for just a minute?"

I nodded my assent, wondering if she wanted to blame me or not. She fidgeted slightly as I looked at her questioningly. She sighed and said

"Here, let's sit down for a minute. I won't keep you long" She sat down on the chair near the door and I took one that was within comfortable listening distance, but far enough away for her not to feel crowded.

"Charlie-" she trailed off.

"Ma'am- I'm sorry for what happened last night. They were shooting at me apparently and both the President and Zoey were in the crossfire" I finished miserably. Hell, I could see why she blamed me. How could she not? But she had looked me in the eyes for the first time and said

"Charlie- don't you blame yourself. It wasn't your fault!" I looked at her to discern what she really thought and saw nothing but the truth in the eyes across from me. She really didn't blame me. I glanced away again.

"I know it wasn't really, but I can't help thinking… I thought you blamed me too." I admitted. I needed to find out what her thoughts were on this. She sat back and for a minute I thought she wasn't going to answer.

"I did." she said quietly. "It wasn't fair but I was terrified and needed…" she shrugged; "…someone to blame I guess. I've been ashamed of the way I treated you. It was never your fault." I felt better and nearly convinced. She must have seen the doubt warring in me because she leaned forward and spoke seriously.

"You weren't the only one I treated unfairly." she looked away again, ashamed. "When I heard the Josh had been shot- and realised that it was so serious, my first and underlying thoughts were Thank-G-d it wasn't Jed or Zoey."

"I was glad it wasn't Zoey, either, Ma'am. That doesn't mean I wanted Josh to have been shot. It doesn't mean you did either. It's perfectly natural- so don't blame yourself either."

"I guess I felt guilty that I wasn't there as well. I should have been." I suddenly surprised both of us by laughing a bit. She looked at me, bewildered.

"I guess we should start up 'Self-Guilt-Trippers Anonymous'" I explained which got a chuckle from her too.

"Everyone, it seems is blaming themselves for some part in it- as far as I can tell." I added thoughtfully. "Toby- for not finding Josh sooner; Gina for not seeing the gunmen sooner; CJ- for something she apparently said in a moment of shock; Leo and the President for having recruited Josh, it seems, and putting him in the position for his getting shot at all- or something like that; me, for having been the one they were aiming for; you- for being grateful that neither your daughter nor the President were badly injured. Let's see- who else…?"

"So Josh is the only one who isn't mentally beating himself up over this then?" she added with a wry smile.

"Oh, just, you wait till he's up and about again. I'm sure he'll be able to find something to blame himself for…!"

"I'll start making up the new S.G.T.A. cards then." she smiled. As she moved toward the door, she turned around again and looked at me.

"Thank-you, Charlie." she said quietly and was gone.

Donna:

I woke up disoriented and whimpering from nightmares to find that I had no idea where I was. I was still fully dressed lying in an unfamiliar bed in a room I'd never seen before. I frowned- trying to remember the last thing that had happened. Waiting for CJ beside a car? I didn't remember getting into it or travelling so did that mean I was still at the White House? What had happened? I wasn't going to be able to sleep any more- that was for sure. It was bright outside and the bedroom clock proclaimed it to be 15:42. Twenty to four! I was supposed to be at work- um…seven hours ago? Crap. I was now hearing noises from downstairs so I stood up and made my way through the unfamiliar surroundings into a lovely bright airy kitchen- where CJ was putting on the kettle. She turned as I came in and nearly went through the roof.

"Donna! You move as quietly as the cat! You scared the life…" she turned back to the kettle and composed herself.

"Anyway, would you like some tea or coffee? We all have the day off so we might as well use it to get over last night", she trailed off.

"Um…thank-you, tea would be great, CJ. Um…this is your house isn't it? How did I get here?"

She laughed- "Sleepwalking, I think. Do you remember me going into the White House to get a couple of things and you waiting outside at the car? Well, when I got back out- you were standing asleep against it. Most impressive thing I've seen in a while. Well, I managed to get you into the car but I couldn't for the life of me remember where you live, and then you started having nightmares and I couldn't wake you up so…" she waved her hand around indicating the surrounding.

"Thanks, CJ. I've always been told that once I was asleep an earthquake wouldn't wake me up. Of course I've never been able verify this. If there were any earthquakes in the vicinity- I slept through them." My weak joke prompted an even weaker smile. The kettle boiled and I fetched two cups. CJ made the tea and then led the way into a sunroom affair off dining-room where we sat with our boiling cups.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked politely.

"Yes and no" I shrugged slightly. "I kept having nightmares…"

"Yeah- me too. About…" she waved her hand.

"About last night, yeah." I looked at her, interested. "While it was happening- were you scared?" I asked.

"Not at first- it happened too suddenly. Sam grabbed me and pushed me down onto the ground and a bullet flew through a car window right above my head. Then- yeah, I was scared. But it wasn't till afterwards, when we were all recovering that it hit me. Then Toby found Josh and it all went on hold again. I don't think it really sunk in what happened until I was asleep last night and dreaming it all again."

"Yeah- me too." CJ put the cup down restlessly. "It's just- I must have gone through a hundred different scenarios in my head before I fell asleep last night -and then another hundred while I was asleep too. In each one something different happened- Gina saw the gunmen sooner, she didn't see them at all, Josh was standing inside the barricade with us, Charlie was already in one of the cars, different people were there- you were there in a few- along with Mrs. Landingham and the Tin-man from the Wizard of Oz. It was getting a bit strange around that point." she added wryly. I smiled at the picture she produced.

"I'll bet" I murmured. "Did any of the variations- did any of the make a difference?" She shook her head. "Only in the number of dead. Someone died every time. More then one sometimes. One dream- everyone. I was the only one left. The only one to make a difference was the one where the gunmen never came". She leaned her head back against the headrest. "Well, that was my nightmare-stock. What about you? Actually, you said something last night in the car when you started having the nightmares. Something about pictures. What was that about do you remember?" She was looking at me again, her eyes alert and interested. I blushed a bit. Great- not only had I fallen asleep in the car and needed CJ to bring me to her house and get literally manhandled into a bed, but I'd been talking as well. Oiy. Now she mentioned it though- yes, I think I did remember this dream. It had been a recurring one.

"I dreamt that I was standing there -as a spectator possibly, last night when the shooting started. Like I was watching it on TV only more so- Virtual Reality or something I guess. Anyway- I saw the guy with the gun take aim from a window and I was screaming that he was there only no-one looked round. I saw the bullets start flying around and people getting hit and falling. And there the whole time was the Press, just filming it all. They were doing nothing to help- just taking pictures. I couldn't do anything to help…" I stopped, caught up in the whole business again. CJ stirred uncomfortably.

"There was nothing you or anyone could have done Donna, except get shot yourselves. We all made it through and the gunmen are dead. There will be repercussions but…"

"As long as everyone's there, we can handle it?" I asked, intentionally corny. She laughed.

"Something like that." she agreed.

Sam:

I was the first one given permission by the Dragon, as next-of-kin, to see Josh. At four on the dot I was waiting outside I.C. for her to come outside and scowl at me. She was scary, I'll grant her that but nothing was as scary as the prospect of doing the next four big-block-of-cheese-days sans backup, which the President and CJ had independently threatened me with if I didn't see Josh and report back to them. Even the thought made me shudder. Matron Drumny as her nametag proudly proclaimed her to be, came out and did indeed scowl at me.

"Ye have twenty minutes. It's still very soon after the operation." She looked at me closely and her expression softened somewhat. "You and your friends need to be looking after yourselves a bit better too. You're as white as a sheet and that poor child with the blonde hair last night- I thought she'd faint at any minute. You need to recover as well and unlike your friend, no-one can force you to stay in bed until you are recovered. Now," leading the way into the partitioned ward. "Don't expect much, laddie. He's on a morphine drip and they tend to make you woozy. He's just nearing the time for another dose- in about fifteen minutes. That's why you're allowed in now- it's when he'll be clearest and visitors will distract him from the pain. In there-I'll be nearby if there's a problem"

Problem? She was expecting problems? What sort? What should I do? She must have sensed my panic as she gave a low earthy chuckle.

"It'll be grand- laddie. Go on- your friend is in there."

I entered the sterile white room with all its machines whirring away keeping my friend alive. And there he was in the middle of it all, looking way too fragile for Josh Lyman. It was strange- and terrifying. Things shouldn't be turned on their heads like this. There was a chair beside the bed and I sat down and waited. Josh was asleep, or unconscious, anyway. His face was still almost the same colour as the pillow it rested on and his hand was nearly translucent on the sheet. It moved slightly and its owner gave an almost silent whimper, twitching in the bed.

"Josh?" I asked hopefully. I needed him to wake up and say he was fine. I needed to hear one of his truly awful puns or a dry comment about something normal. He stirred and the eyes cracked open.

"'Sm?" he swallowed and tried again. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself." I responded joyfully. "You gave us quite a scare, there" Inane, but true.

He didn't seem to mind as the ghost of a Lyman grin flitted across his face. "Gave m'self…scare" he slurred. Even this short line seemed to take effort and his eyes flickered closed again for a second.

"Ev'one ess-else okay?"

"Yup- the President got a scratch but he's fine" We'd been warned about saying anything that might upset him. Too late.

"The P'rsdent? 'S he okay?" asked Josh, alarmed and squirming an inch or two, trying to sit up.

"He's grand- quit moving around and worrying. You'll hurt yourself and then the Nurse will hurt me!" I half-joked, putting my hand on his shoulder to emphasise my point.

"…", whatever he'd been about to whisper was cut off with a small gasp and a wince.

"Josh? You okay? Should I get the Nurse in here…?" I panicked slightly. He shook his head a miniscule amount and flicked his finger at one of the machines. I'd only seen one once before; after a friend of mine had been in a serious car-crash. It was a morphine-drip with a timer on it. The time would run out in about four minutes. Then Josh would fall asleep again probably. Until then however, he'd be in a lot of pain as the previous dose had worn off.

"Four minutes Josh. It's nearly there…" not that I was much help really. He didn't want it four minutes away- he needed it now. I tried to distract him.

"Um…" Dammit- I was supposed to be a speechwriter for the President of the United States- accustomed to making every sort of, of speech from, from A to Z. Yet I couldn't even come up with a topic, any blasted topic to keep my friend from thinking about the pain or the next four agonising minutes until the machine delivered the knock-out drops. Thank- G-d Josh did it for me.

"Who?"

"Who shot at us?" I guessed. At the slight nod I continued. "Well, they're not altogether sure of everyone involved but they think it was the Aryan White Pride…fish-hater whatsits…". I trailed off realising that actually I wasn't sure of the name myself. It was a fairly ridiculous one, I remembered thinking. A strange wheezing sound interrupted. Josh was laughing with alternate gasps as the giggles hurt.

"Wh't fssh my?" This one took a bit of working out but I grinned as he'd handed me this one on a silver platter.

"A stunned mullet" I reiterated an old…old joke between us.

"My hair w's n'v that b'd" He was drifting again. Even this short conversation had exhausted him. His eyes had closed and didn't open again before the machine dispensed the sleep drops. At this point the Nurse leaned in the door and motioned me out. I nodded and briefly touched his hand to say goodbye. "Yes, it was, and we will continue this conversation, Lyman." I left Josh sleeping, I think peacefully, in that alien world of endless white and stainless steel.

"That was much better then I expected." said Nurse Drumny to me in surprise. "Most morphine patients, especially right after an op. are fairly unresponsive and sometimes don't even recognise the people around them. He remembered the circumstances of the attack and the other people there." She shook her head wonderingly. "Well, he's a tough lad, I'll give him that." She looked at me. "And he's stubborn too. I was present during the operation- or parts of it. He never gave up- he always fought his way back. A less determined person probably wouldn't have made it. As long as he keeps that spirit up- he'll recover well, I think."

Toby:

The President was back in the White House. He, alongwith his rather more reluctant wife, had agreed that he would probably recover just as well back in the White House as cluttering up the hospital with Secret Agents. The hospital put up a mild fuss about this but were, as far as I could tell- actually quite relieved. Having a President in your public building is every manager's secret nightmare when the staff have to work around them.

I had been bullied into staying at the Residences for the day and I had been exhausted enough not to put up much of a fight. At around three o' clock I woke up confused, trying to remember the difference between the plaguing nightmares and last night's reality. Reality? No- nothing was real about that night. Work- that was what I needed. Work to take my mind off unreal situations and back into the realm of ordinary life again. If anything could be normal again.

I sneaked back into my office and started going through reams of paperwork. Amazing how the rubbish builds up. I methodically started sorting it into piles of rubbish, need-to-do, need to do now, and RED ALERT! Luckily there wasn't much in the RED ALERT! pile. I could wish that Sam were here to help with some of the dross though. Sam! What had happened to him? I looked at the clock and figured that he'd gone to GW to see Josh. He'd better have had! He was the only one allowed in at the moment, and (though I'd keep quiet about it) I wanted news. Thinking of the GW gave me a bad case of writers' block and I decided I'd go for a wander around the halls to clear my head.

As I wandered down the hall, trying to clear my head and get the writing juices flowing I spotted CJ in what looked like a similar state. I fell into step beside her.

"Hey, Toby. Any news?" I raised an eyebrow. "On what exactly?" I asked her. She shrugged impatiently.

"I don't know, I guess. The signaller- if he talked. Sam- he's gone in to see Josh. Is he back yet?"

"Nope- but I wouldn't say he'll be much longer. They said last night that 20 minutes is the most time allowed even for 'family-members' He's been gone about an hour now."

"Well, speak of the devil…" she murmured back as Sam rounded the corner ahead of us looking tired and frazzled but happy. CJ pounced on him.

"Sam! You were gone long enough? What's the news? Did you see him?" He evaded her easily enough.

"Sorry CJ- the President told me too come to him as soon as I got back on pain of- er…unspecified pain actually. But I'm sure it would be nasty. And would involve the next few big-block-of-cheese days."

We trailed along after him and arrived at the door of the meeting room just after he arrived. Two rather disgruntled-looking delegates from somewhere had just exited. Sam knocked and was given permission to enter. The President was inside, sitting down with the crutch he had been ordered to use leaning against the chair.

"Uh…sir? Isn't it a bit early for you to be back to work?" asked CJ. Yup- thank-G-d for CJ- she'll always ask the awkward questions or say the unfortunate truths. And rarely gets fired for it.

"I could say the same about you three" he responded. "There is still-what…7 hours? till tomorrow. I believe my order was quite specific." He looked at us with a raised eyebrow until we reluctantly conceded the moral high ground. Mind you- he's the President. If we hadn't conceded it he would've just taken it anyway.

"Sit down, all of you now that you're here. Sam. What's the word? Did you get to see Josh?"

I could have shouted with impatience as Leo came in at this point with a small package and a serious look on his face. Why did people keep interrupting! I kept my face fairly neutral though. I wouldn't want people to think I was in any way bothered about the guy. Really.

"Ah, Leo. Come join us for a minute. Sam's just back from the hospital. Right- you can go ahead now."

"Well, there's not that much to say really. I went in as the morphine was wearing off. She- Nurse Drumny from last night- said that's when people tend to go in as the patient is more alert and visitors distract them…" he trailed off and paused to gather his thoughts.

"Um… she said that he was making remarkable progress and that it's very unusual for someone to be as coherent or to remember as much about the whole thing as Josh was."

"When you said that visitors at that time distract the patient you meant from the pain right?" asked CJ quietly. Sam nodded awkwardly.

"Yeah. He had about four minutes to go between doses when I was talking to him. He was in a lot of pain for that time. I was trying to distract him- hell, that's why I was allowed in but…It was obvious- even though he was joking and talking…"

Silence fell again. Sam looked really upset and, well, what was there to say?

"He'll be asleep for a lot of the time until he heals enough to come off the morphine anyway. They don't like to leave you on that stuff longer then absolutely necessary. He'll sleep through most of it. And, well, for that four o' clock time- someone will be there." the President offered seriously. It was cold comfort but definitely better then none.

"He was making jokes? Yup- that sounds like him all right. Has to be a good sign." said Leo. "You know, what are we going to have to do about his apartment, now that I think about it? Toby, Sam, you live in that block too- are we talking ground floor or impossible?"

"Unlikely." I replied. "Josh is on, what- the fifth floor isn't it?" Sam nodded.

"Sixth- and the lifts aren't really the most trustworthy in the world. Not that he ever uses them anyway".

"Yeah- he's claustrophobic, isn't he?" I said, dredging up that piece of information from who-knows-where.

"Josh's a claustrophobe? I wouldn't have guessed that one…"

"Well, I'm on the ground floor- I guess I could swap with him." I surprised myself by saying. Okay- so I'd thought about this scenario earlier but I hadn't meant to mention this out loud till I'd thought…ah what the hell.

"Well, that would solve the problem unless Josh is really against it and frankly I don't see why he would be." Leo said thoughtfully. "But in the meantime what are we going to do about it! Josh won't be out of hospital for at least a month or two even. It seems silly- him paying rent in the meantime."

"I may just have an answer to that" put in CJ. "I have a friend who's supposed to be moving up here with his job fairly soon, but- you know Washington- accommodation is gold-dust. He's found a place but won't be able move in for another month yet. How about if he rents Josh's flat from the landlord. It will take the place off Josh's hands till he gets out; give John a place before he gets his proper accommodation…What do you think?"

"Yeah- you might have something there." I answered after we all mulled over this one. "We need to talk to Josh, the landlord- you to your friend. Mind you- Charlie O' Conner is a nice guy- he was shocked at the whole incident. I wouldn't say he'd have many objections. After that we just need to sort out the problem of his stuff. It might need to go into storage."

Sam groaned. "Which means clearing out. Oh, well, at least Josh never tended to collect stuff. It probably won't even take that long. But it will need a group of us" He looked around sternly- daring any of us to refuse. No-one was quite brave enough to object.

"Grand. But you can explain to Josh why we're clearing his apartment out." put in CJ quickly.

Sam winced. "Done"

"Mr. President, if I may." Leo changed the subject.

"Leo?"

"Ron Butterfield gave this to me for you. It's the video-tape of the interrogation of Carl Leroy and his statement."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Everyone, including myself I noticed with detached surprise- was sitting up straighter and a certain air of tension had pervaded the room at the name. The President suddenly looked tired and rather older then he had five minutes ago.

"Very well." he said taking it. He put the offending little package down beside the chair and we all stared at it.

"Sir?" I managed. "Are you going to watch the tape?" He glanced at it with seeming disinterest. "Yes."

"But not now?" CJ stated flatly.

"Do you really want to watch it? It won't be pleasant. I can more or less tell you right now what it will say."

"Sir- I think we know as well. But I also think we need to see it." I said, choosing my words with care.

"Why?"

I paused, thinking. It was hard to put into words why I needed to see the tape. I just had the strongest feeling…

"Closure, perhaps, sir. I don't think I want to listen to a brainwashed 19 year old Young-Nazi, but-"

"I think we need to. We were all shot at last night. Josh may or may not want to see it later but I think we all need at least the option of...hearing this..." CJ and Sam had articulated what I couldn't. They weren't all my reasons but they were enough perhaps. The President nodded tiredly.

"Very well, if you want to see this. If, however anyone wants to leave then now's the time." No-one moved. Sam bit his lip as he started to say something.

"Mr. President…"

"You think Charlie should be here."

"Yes, sir. If he want to see this-thing."

"I know. But I was thinking that if he wants to see it then perhaps later, when there isn't so many people around. It's going to be pretty harsh on him."

I could see where he was coming from but I wasn't entirely sure I agreed. But…

Sometimes fate intervenes however. At that precise moment of impasse a knock was heard and Charlie himself came in to give the President a message. He gave it and paused while the President read it. He saw the video tape in his hands and went still.

"Sir, excuse me for asking but is that…?"

"Yes. It's Carl Leroy's interrogation and statement. I was going to give you the option of seeing it but I thought you might prefer not have to watch it with a group. Do you want to see it?" Charlie looked at the tape as if it was a poisonous snake.

"Yes sir. I want to hear what he has to say." he paused. "I think I would prefer to see it with the rest of the group though if that's okay."

"Sit down then Charlie." The tape was inserted into the machine in the corner and with growing trepidation, we watched it.

C.J.

We all knew what the tape would say. The poisonous sentiments behind it. But the sheer viciousness of what that kid said staggered all of us. He was 19. How could he carry so much hate?

"Did you, Carl Leroy, make any kind of signal or gesture to cause the gunmen to start shooting?"

"What did they tell you?"

"The gunmen are dead, Mr. Leroy. I am asking you again…"

"You showed me the security tape of the shooting. What did you see?"

He was so self-possessed. He was being questioned for a charge of possible treason, for crying out loud! How could he be so calm? I remembered then that the gunmen had been carrying no I.D. They were martyrs to their cause. As was Carl Leroy. I shivered suddenly.

"An agent on the ground saw you give a signal right before the gunmen opened fire, Mr. Leroy. Are you denying this?" It looked like the kid was tired of cat-and mouse because he looked up then.

"Yeah. I gave the signal." He stood up quickly with both hands on the table in front of him. A security guard moved into view, but Leroy wasn't going to attack the cop. At least not physically.

"How can this abomination of inter-racial couples be allowe…!" he shouted.

"Let the record show that at 11:35, Carl Leroy admitted the charge of causing shots to be fired at the President"

"They weren't aimed at the President!" He went on to state in the crudest possible terms that they had been aimed at the 'abomination'- Charlie and Zoey. I glanced sideways at Charlie. His face was devoid of all expression but his fingers were clenching the armrests so tightly that his knuckles creaked.

"Your bullets hit three innocent people in this mad, cowardly racist attack, Mr. Leroy. If your bullets had hit their targets, it would still have been innocent people. At the moment you are up for treason and attempted murder. At any moment this investigation could still become an actual murder hunt. The President, the Deputy Chief-of-Staff; Josh Lyman and a girl in the crowd; Stephanie Abbott, were all hit."

"Yeah- saw it on the news." he replied disinterestedly.

"And this doesn't bother you in the slightest?" The kid had looked up again, directly at the camera now and his eyes were fanatical. His voice was lower, when he spoke and each word was as deadly as the Rosslyn bullets. They were made of spite and hate, not metal but they cut.

"Those bullets could have hit any of them and it would have been well done. Look at these people, ruling our country- look at the head staff- two Jews, a black, a woman- in the White House, a drunk… could've hit any of the them. I don't care if Lyman dies. It's one less of those filthy…"

The President had hit the stop button. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Opening them again I glanced across at Toby and Charlie. Was this what they had to deal with every day, Toby, Josh, Charlie? This sort of…malice- because of…

Toby was white and furious. Charlie was still gripping the armrests. I leaned over and touched his arm. He looked away from me.

"Charlie, it's not your fault. From the sound of it they hate us all. They hate us in the abstract, not because of who we really are…It's just so…"

"Irrational? Malevolent? Malicious?" asked Toby, his voice getting louder. "Or bloody normal! This is what people think, CJ! This is how the damned hate-groups act! This is what we're up against! People like Leroy and whatever bastards recruited him to do their dirty work for them!" He had stood up and was shouting at me. He came to himself and sat down again and put his head in his hand.

"That's all we are to them- dirty work."

There was a pause after Toby's outburst. Hell- what could you say to it. Every word he said was true. These were just some of the truths in this world. Some people just can't recognise others as real people. It was hard to be classed as one of the 'soiled'. Because I'm a woman in the White House. Because Charlie's black. Because Josh and Toby are Jews. Because of this, these people feel we deserve to be - what? Second- class citizens? Or deserve to die?

"They're crazy, narrow, short- sighted sad little people who, thank heaven are not, nor are likely to ever be, in Government.

Toby raised an eyebrow. " 'Never' is a strong word C.J. They probably will get in someday."

"Then that is the day I apply for British citizenship. Or possibly Australian."

"British citizenship, C.J.? What makes you think they'll be any less crazed over there? Lord Marbury's British, for crying out loud!"

"Good point, Leo. Australian it is then."

It was dumb jokes like this that rescued us from the brink of that dark chasm. Some things were just too raw to be discussed now. But I realised that though Josh would be the one with the physical scars, we were all marked now, perhaps indelibly.

Josh:

I woke up only occasionally over the next few days. Only when it hurt it seems. 5 to 4 in the afternoon was when one morphine dose would have worn off completely and I still had five minutes to go before the next dose. That time wasn't fun. But there was always someone there- Sam, I think on the first day, Donna, CJ, Leo, the President occasionally, even a nervous Zoey sometimes. Charlie came in after a couple of days and said something but between the fact that he was taking ten minutes to get to whatever point he was trying for meant that I missed most of it. He came in again the next day with Zoey and managed to get it out. He seemed to blame himself for them hitting me when they were aiming for him and Zoey.

"Nah, it wasn't you fault, Charlie" I replied when I finally understood what he was getting at. I glanced at Zoey who rolled her eyes.

"That's what we've been telling him for four days, now. Maybe he'll listen to you."

"…be a first." I muttered. "Look, it wasn't your fault that these guys are crazed nutters with acc.. argh…" I gasped slightly as I tried to move. "..ess to guns. It wasn't your fault- either of you- that they picked you to vent their spleen on. It definitely wasn't your faults that they're crap shots, thank- G-d." I could have said a lot more except I was exhausted again. When could I get of this bed!

"You okay, Josh?" asked Zoey, worried. I nodded and the Nurse came in and clucked- I swear, she actually clucked- at them.

"Time's up people. And you- " she fixed her eye on me and I tried to look small and harmless. It really didn't work. "- you shouldn't be exerting yourself so soon. I saw you, trying to sit up. You're flat until at least tomorrow, remember?" I opened my mouth to say something but realised that, a) it wouldn't make a blind bit of difference, and b) that I was asleep again.

Zoey:

I was glad I had heard him say those words anyway. It may be easy to know intellectually that something is not your fault but it is a damn sight harder to actually believe it. I turned back to Josh to say bye before seeing that he had drifted off again. The Nurse ushered us out into the hallway.

"It was the two of you they were actually aiming at, wasn't it?" She looked at us. "I heard what he said and you're to listen to him after all the effort he put into saying it. Now, be off back to the White House and you can tell them up there that he'll probably be allowed to sit up tomorrow. We've taken him off the morphine as well; it's not good to be on that stuff too long. If all goes well tomorrow we're taking him out of intensive care also."

"That's great! So he's doing really well- how long will he have to be in hospital for?" I babbled in relief.

"That depends. He'll be in a few weeks of course- a month maybe. During some of that time he'll need both physiotherapy and trauma counseling. It's a long haul but he'll make it. He'll need people with him though- you and those other people I'm always having to chase out of here. You just keep him going- don't let him give up on it all."

"We will." I nodded to her. It wasn't our faults but even so, we need to make amends. Not that that was the only reason at all, or even thee main one but…

"Survivors guilt, Zoey." Dad said to me later when I was talking to him and Mom in the Residences. "You and Charlie feel guilty that some people were hit while you got out of it without a scratch." I opened my mouth but couldn't say anything.

"Don't worry, it is perfectly normal. We all have it- Sam, CJ, Toby, even me; that I got out of there with only a scratch. It'll pass. You can always talk to any of us, you know."

"Yeah, I know, Dad. Thanks"

Sam:

My turn on Josh- duty for the four o' clock visit. Actually, they'd opened his hours a bit but that was still the time I tended to go in at; his lowest point still. Beat the 3pm slump at 4pm.

Hell, I was babbling again. It was ten days after Josh had been shot and they were finally going to let him try to get up for an hour maybe. He wouldn't be allowed walk around or anything but he might be allowed sit in a wheelchair and move around a bit. He still tired very easily so it wouldn't be for long. However his fretting at just lying in the bed wasn't helping either.

"Hey Josh." I said, wandering into the private room. As yet he couldn't be in the normal part of the hospital as his immunity system was about level zero. Dodgy lungs will do that to a person. I had been assured that, while this stage would pass, until then no-one with a cold or any type of sickness would be allowed within 50ft of him. Toby had assured me. I think he loomed at the doctor until she promised. Mind you, Toby himself had been banned once for having a slight cough, so I guess that one backfired.

"Hey Sam." He waved one hand listlessly. "I have counted 5423 little round dents in the tiles on the ceiling. Why do you think they put those dent- yokes in ceiling tiles anyway?"

"They have them just so bored people lying in hospital beds can count them." I said solemnly. He gave me a Look. This might scare interns and assistants but I have known Josh Lyman for 25 years. And I've gotten Looked at by CJ. I don't scare easily. I raised an eyebrow back. He looked away and sighed.

"There used to be a time that that scared you." he muttered.

"Josh, that never scared me." He snorted, which made him cough. He had to hug the coughing- pillow until he stopped. I gave him the water when he finally finished.

"Nurse Drumney is not gonna be happy if you hack up a lung." I warned. He scowled at me.

"Sam, you gotta help me." he said. "I am going stir-crazy in here."

"Yeah, I guess I would be too. Can't you, I don't know, read or…do paperwork, or something."

"Do paperwork? For once in my life, I would love to do paperwork but Donna's got these damn Rules going. I am going nuts."

Oh yeah, the Rules. Before I could suggest anything else that was likely to get me into trouble with Donna the duty-nurse came in, pushing a wheelchair.

"Do you feel up to getting out of brd for a while today?" she asked chirpily.

"I can get up? Really? Yes, I am definitely ready to get out of bed." He started moving as if he were about to stand up out of the bed himself. She pounced on him.

"No, if you try to stand up, you will fall over. You haven't used those legs in over ten days now. You will need time to get them working properly again. That's why the wheelchair. Sam, could I have your help getting Josh into the wheelchair, please".

We tried to do it without being too obvious about the fact that he couldn't do much himself still. It was humiliating, being lifted up and put into the wheelchair, especially when the nurse patted a blanket down over his legs like a child. He was blushing with embarrassment and a certain amount of confused anger as well. Who it was directed at though, I wasn't entirely sure.

"You can go around the corridor outside but not out into the main corridors yet" she said to him briskly, seeming not to notice his discomfort. "Your lung still isn't ready to cope with possible infections outside in the normal wards."

"Okay. You ready, Josh?" I wheeled him out of the room into the little corridor that connected all the rooms for patients with breathing-difficulties and towards the big window at the end. He leaned forward to stare out at the hospital grounds in what looked like awe. I realised with a jolt that he hadn't seen the outside world in almost two weeks. He looked over at me.

"I've missed this." he admitted quietly before looking back out at the sun-covered grass.

Donna:

I walked into the room and stopped in shock. Josh was standing by the little window in the room. He was leaning heavily against the window-ledge, trying to get his breath back. He noticed me then and grinned a bit sheepishly.

"Josh Lyman! I'm almost sure that you shouldn't be doing that just yet!" I managed, depositing the book and newspapers (which I had brought over my own strong objections. I figured that if I didn't, Toby would though, and at least this way I could vet them first), on the bed and moving towards him. He waved off my attempt to help him back to the bed and instead moved with slow determination over to the wheelchair and settled himself in it, with a defiant glare at me. The effect was somewhat diminished by the overlarge blue pajamas that he was wearing which CJ had brought in the previous day. It also wasn't helped by the fact that his face was shiny with the exertion. I stood there with my hands on my hips and my eyebrows on the ceiling. This was having even less effect on him then his glare had had on me. He finally gave in and looked away first though.

"She said I could get up today." he muttered at the wall.

"I think you'll find she meant with the aid of a nurse." I replied before sighing and sitting down on the bed. He glowered.

"The wall's terrified." I said dryly. He snorted slightly and smiled ruefully.

"I wanted to do it on my own, Donna. I needed to…" he shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, I needed to see if I could I guess. Who would've thought that, you know- getting shot in the chest- would mess up your legs? I needed to…"

"Yeah, I understand…" He looked at me angrily.

"How! How can you understand? How con you understand how…embarrassing it is to, to need help with anything so trivial- going to the toilet, getting dressed, walking! To not be allowed see the papers in case you get 'upset'! To…" He started coughing and I looked on worried as he blindly grabbed for the coughing-pillow and hugged it until the fit eased off. I could see that this was something he wouldn't appreciate me interfering with.

"To not even be able to get mad without all this…" he rasped weakly when it had passed. He didn't sound mad now, just defeated. He was still hanging on to the cushion and looking down at it in apparent fascination. I paused, not knowing really what to say.

"I'm sorry, Donna. That was uncalled for. It's just- frustrating, that's all. I shouldn't be taking it out on you."

"Or CJ or Sam either. Have you been a bit snippy with them lately by any chance?" I kidded. "Seriously, though, I'm sorry, You're right. I don't, can't understand. I haven't been through this, except second- hand, like the others. I just…I'm sorry about the papers. I guess you're probably okay to have the real ones now."

"You mean ones that don't run "Martians stole my husband" lines as their front page story? Yeah, me too."

"Hey, that was one paper one day. I thought it was funny." I said defensively.

Sam, CJ and I were the ones to finally rescue him from the hospital- or the hospital from him as Matron Drumney pointed out when we showed up.

"Take him, please. For someone recovering from that sort of injury, he's got cabin-fever very quickly. Frankly, he's driving the staff up the wall." She smiled a bit. "For all that, though, I have to say he's a good boy. We'll miss him in here- he certainly livens the place up."

"Yeah, we have the same problem." CJ snorted. There was a certain amount of affection in the snort, though I doubted Josh would be allowed to see it.

"Josh, your people are here to rescue us from you- you're allowed out. Josh Lyman!" I could see why the bark. Josh was standing beside the bed, dressed and ready to go. He was wavering a bit but he had the stubborn glint in his eye that suggested that we were not getting him into the wheelchair. He was walking out. Idiot.

"I can walk out myself. I don't need the wheelchair." Nurse Drumney strode up to him. He paled slightly but held his ground.

"It's not for long, Josh. Just for when you get tired." CJ assured him from above.

"I really don't want to hear it." he grumbled from his wheeled position, considerably nearer the floor. He got himself into the car and the hated chair was put into the trunk.

The drive was made in comparative silence. Josh was staring out the window, overwhelmed by the free world of noise and colour outside after the white sterility of the hospital.

"So, what's it like being a free man, again, Josh?" asked CJ in her best 'reporter voice'.

"Strange…" If he had been about to say more he had changed his mind because he'd trailed off into silence again. He shook himself out of it and turned back to us.

"I'm sorry, I never really asked- I should've but, well after the first few days, and then it didn't seem like the right time to talk about it- Was anyone hurt? Sorry- I…eh- should've..."

I traded confused and slightly worried glances with Sam, beside me and then both of us with CJ in the rearview mirror. Two apologies from Josh in the one speech? And what was with the-

"Josh? I mean this nicely but you're rambling. And in answer to your question- yes, everyone's fine; with the exception of the guy who's only just been sprung from hospital eighteen days after the event. The President and a girl in the crowd, Stephanie Abbott were both hit but neither seriously." Josh was still looking confused and had opened his mouth halfway through her 'press- briefing' speech.

"What? Who-" I leaned forward and tapped him on the shoulder.

"You, Josh. You just got released from hospital, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, right." He shook his head again slightly to clear it. "Got it, sorry- it's just these pills they had me on last night and today. They make me a little…" he trailed off again and went back to staring out of the window. Sam glanced at me again. There was definitely worry there now.

"Do you think he should even be out of the hospital yet?" he asked me quietly.

"I…really don't know, Sam. This is- unlike him." I tapped him on the shoulder again.

"Thick." he finished abruptly. There was a pause as we retuned to Radio Josh. This was trickier then it sounds, as the carrier wave seemed to be somewhere around Jupiter.

"I'm sorry- did I just zone out again? They warned me this would probably happen for the first day or two. Then maybe the effects of some of the weirder drugs they had me…"

"Josh? Josh? Pizza's here, Josh. No? Okay then. The Republicans have taken the White House, Josh." CJ tried.

"Um…What?" Pause as words filter through. "WHAT!"

"Thought that would work." CJ nodded in satisfaction. "Listen, Josh- Sam told you about you switching with Toby. What with him being on the ground floor and you being on the sixth and all…"

"Ah…about that, yeah." put in Sam, leaning forward.

"You didn't tell him!" cried CJ, her voice going up a couple of octaves. Mind you, this time, I agreed with her. I elbowed him when he looked to me for support.

"Ow. Yeah, I know, I should have…("Damn straight, you should have", from the drivers seat) "… it just never seemed to be the right time, is all. Yeah, okay. Josh- you now live on the ground floor."

"Okay."

"Um…okay?" CJ raised an eyebrow at the rear view. "That was surprisingly easy."

CJ:

Yup. Too easy. We pulled up in front of the block of flats and Josh hauled himself out. He flatly refused to go into the wheelchair, or indeed any help or support. That glint of stubbornness had returned. It was almost a relief after the absence of Joshness in the car. We stood and watched fairly helplessly as he made it up the flight of steps outside the block, hanging on to the railing and pausing every two steps. Donna and Sam kept tensing to make a dive and catch him when the almost inevitable happened. Somehow, the luck that smiles down on stubborn, pig-headed, idiot males held and he stood, completely out of breath and swaying slightly at the top. I shook my head and moved up the steps after him.

"Right, you've proved something to yourself now?" I asked dryly, catching his arm before he took a tumble right back down those steps again.

"Needed to…"

"Yeah, I know. Look, that chair's going into the apartment. Deal with it. Use it when you need to. Believe me when I say that the nurses don't want to see you again for a while. Give them a chance to recover from your last visit."

"What, my devastating charm at work?" he gasped trying to get his breath back.

"Yeah, something like that. Come on, Romeo."

I walked him into the hall, flanked by Sam and Donna, who were hovering like mother hens. Well, Donna was. Sam was finding his hovering slightly hampered by the recaltricent wheelchair he was struggling with. We steered Josh to his new apartment. He looked puzzled when we reached the door and glanced at Donna for reassurance. Good grief- exactly what was the guy on at the moment? He was further out of it then the International Space Station.

Leo and Toby were lurking inside. World- class lurkers when it comes to it. They may even have been skulking. Sam had packed most of the stuff up and we had all carted it down. Toby, Donna and Leo, when he was around, had been mainly instrumental in the unpacking. I looked around. Everything was put away. There wasn't actually that much of it. He really didn't tend to collect much stuff. Leo and Toby had turned to the door as we entered. Josh waved.

"Hiya, guys. Miss me?."

Yay, dumb Lyman humour! Finally, something normal! Or not. Leo and Toby had just independently hugged him and welcomed him back. Oh great- now we had to worry about whether Leo and Toby ought to be in a hospital too. Josh looked confused. Okay, so that had been his expression for much of the evening, but this time he had an excuse. Sam, Donna and I all had identical expressions to him.

"Right. You two- need to go back on the depressive pills. Josh- you need to go to bed."

"Um…right yeah. Um…where is it again?" He stood there with a rather pathetic look of bewilderment on his face. Sam took pity on him and steered him off.

Leo glanced at me in confusion. "Did I miss something? That was…very un-Joshlike."

"Yeah- they've got him on some pills at the moment that are making him very docile and forgetful."

"I can deal with the first one but the second one could be a problem." he muttered. "How long?"

"Yeah, soon I hope. Both of them are freaking me out somewhat." added Toby staring at the door the other two had exited. I shrugged.

"The effects are temporary. They should've worn off by tomorrow. It's the damn independent streak that I'm worried about." I said as we sat down. "He made us let him take the steps on his own getting here. I'm afraid that if we leave him alone he'll push himself too hard and maybe aggravate the problem."

"Well, we certainly can't leave him alone for a few nights at least. I think a couple of people should stay the night and at least one person for the next couple of days."

"I'll stay tonight." volunteered Donna. "I'm not in until a bit later on Thursday morning, anyway."

"Yeah, I'll stay the evening too." I said, figuring Donna could probably use some back-up.

"Thanks CJ" she said with a certain amount of relief.

"Well I'm on the sixth floor and Sam's on the second, so if there's any problems, you know, go get Sam." put in Toby. CJ gave him an exasperated look.

"Or whatever, me I don't mind" he backed off quickly. He glanced back towards the door looking almost worried.

"Can you deal with him okay?" he asked.

"It'll be fine." I replied. "It should be a quiet night."

Donna:

I swear CJ, you jinxed us. Quiet night? I don't think so. CJ was too tall for the sofa so she got the spare bad and I kipped down on the couch. I fell asleep fairly quickly when a loud 'bang!' ripped through the still air. I jumped up before I realised it was only a car backfiring. It had a rather worse effect on Josh in the next room however. I heard a thump as CJ landed on her feet and we dashed into Josh to see what the scuffling was. He was tangled in the sheets in the grips of a nightmare. His face was panicked and, though his eyes were open, there was definitely no sense there.

"Josh?" asked CJ. She reached out and touched his arm. He responded to that all right as he jerked back from the touch and fell out of bed onto the floor with a strangled yell.

"Josh? Are you all right?" I hurried around to the other side and tried to help him up. He was frozen in place and unresponsive except for the occasional shudder that ran through him.

"He's in full flashback mode, now. The nurse warned me about this." said CJ, worriedly. "It doesn't tend to last long with him but…"

"Is there anything we can do until…"

"Not really. I don't think 'The Republicans have taken the White House, Josh' is gonna cut it this time."

"Um…what?" came from the floor.

"Dear Lord, it actually works." CJ said in astonishment.

"Um…what? Why am I… Why are you…? Um… what?" tried Josh.

"You fell out of bed. A car backfired and you had a flashback." I told him calmly. "Right, unless you want to stay there all night I think you might want to try getting back into bed." I helped him stand up and steered him back into his bed, straightening the sheets out again. He was already asleep by the time I left.

CJ was sitting in the chair in the small living room when I entered.

"You snuck off very quietly," I accused. She shrugged and handed me a glass of wine.

"I know. You were doing a great job, and I felt that too many people would only panic him again."

"Oh." I sat down again. "Where did this come from?"

"Toby brought it earlier. It's been open for about three hours now. I think it needs a cap."

" Oh, right. So how long do you reckon…?"

"Dunno." She leaned back rubbing her eyes with her hand. "Not long I hope. Actually, considering it's the middle of the night, he was…you know…coherent, didn't zone out. Looks like the loopy- stuff might've worn off. Possibly."

"Oh, I hope so. Doped Josh was beginning to freak me out."

"Oh, I don't know- it was quite relaxing in a way."

I laughed. "Well, the holiday's over. Josh is coming back."

"And may the world watch out." CJ raised her glass ironically. "To recovery."

"To recovery."

Finis.

Ok, I know the ending is a bit on the abrupt side, but hey, I have to stop somewhere.

This may, possibly, maybe have a sequel with the provisional title Light of Day, but frankly, I don't know yet.