Thorny Path

Aries

He hadn't screwed up yet, but he knew he was going to. He was running on as close to empty now as he ever had been, every slight thing was grating on his nerves like fingernails on a blackboard and he was sure he was driving his friends insane. He didn't know how much longer he could keep on living like this.

He sat in the meeting and tried to listen. Three people were arguing at cross-purposes about replacing fossil fuels with alternative sources. A worthy cause he'd admit, but all they were doing were fighting each other for the lucrative deal, rather then any real care or sense of duty to the environment, he thought cynically. He shook himself mentally. Since when had he gotten so ready to think the worst of everybody? He was a politician yes, but couldn't he keep human faith too? Apparently not. He couldn't keep control of anything any more- not even his own life.

"That's it," he said abruptly, standing up. "All you've agreed is that the situation is bad. None of you have any kind of sensible plan. Or if you do, you seem more worried about shooting down the plans of the other parties rather then stating your own points. Come back when you've got something useable." He stalked out and didn't stop until he reached his office. He deposited his notes on the table and leaned against the desk. His hand was shaking and he glared at it until he got it under control by sheer force of will. Oh hell, he had screwed up now. He'd almost certainly single-handedly alienated the entire environmental- party- a force which were currently major supporters of the Bartlet administration. Not any more, he was willing to bet.

Josh Lyman stared at his hand. Blood was running out of it and spotting the wooden floor. How had he done that? It was cold in the apartment. A chill breeze was making itself felt now. Strange. He looked up and realised what had happened. He had punched out a window and his hand was dripping blood…Oh God- the blood!

Blood was winnowing its way down his shirt as if struggling to be released. He stared in fascination at the small pool already collecting…NO! He forced it away, closing his eyes and swallowing hard to rid his mouth of the bitter taste of the memory before going to get a bandage to tie up his hand.

He was getting funny looks from people, he knew it. Especially Donna. Dammit- could he not keep anything secret from this lot? Irrationally angry he felt his face set into the Lyman death-glare, guaranteed to send Republicans and interns scuttling for dear life. Why couldn't they leave him alone? It was the pilot story that was getting him, he knew. The pilot. The man with the same birthday and who had, Josh had ascertained through meticulous research, been showing the same symptoms of…strangeness as Josh himself. And he knew he was acting strange. He couldn't think straight. Always in his mind were the sirens, or the beeping that grew louder- almost deafening at times and then so quiet that he found himself straining to hear it until his head ached. He was existing on 2, maybe 3 hours sleep a night. Coffee –that was another one. Coffee replaced sleep in a way he didn't want but found necessary. He couldn't sleep. To sleep was to live it all again.

It was haunting him and he knew he wasn't going to escape it. Was there any way to escape? His options were narrowing down every day as his layers of defenses slid off like falling rain- uncatchable. His nerves were raw, his head continually ached and he sometimes couldn't even hear Donnas voice over the sirens. But despite this, life was still happening. He was grasping at it, even as it was drowning him, trampling the one who couldn't keep up. But he didn't want to give up. The pilot- had he felt these same things- heard the sirens in the night and day? Had it simply gone on and on until, one day, he looked at the controls of his aircraft and decided, that while he no longer had any control over his life, he still had control over his death? What was it to him- the desperate act of a man who couldn't stop the sirens or the last shout of defiance to the thing that had taken control over everything that was his life? Josh didn't know. He did know that he didn't want his path to take him to that choice as well, but every day and every sleepless night, he knew he might be one step nearer to that brink.

He was getting closer now, he knew. Instead of the steady slide that had been happening he was now slipping faster and faster. He had shouted at the President today. Inside, a detached part of him watched himself and heard the desperate cry for help that the real Josh couldn't give. Had the pilot done this too? Was an encounter like this the last straw for him? Josh didn't know. He had no control over the path now and it was leading him into thorns and thickets. The path was deteriorating as it wound into the forest and the trees had closed in above, blocking out the light. At the very least- he decided, sitting on a couch in an apartment in Washington DC- wherever this path ended, he wasn't going to drag his friends along with him.

He brought a letter to Leo the next morning. The words were simple and to the point. He, Josh Lyman, was resigning from his position as Deputy Chief of Staff, because he no longer felt he was capable of doing his job to the standards of the Administration.

Leo looked up from the stark black and white of the letter on the desk in front of him.

"Josh, I can't accept this…" he started.

"You must." Josh replied dully. "I have resigned. I am no longer Deputy Chief of Staff in this administration." As he spoke these stilted sounding words he felt the last few feet of firm ground he had thought he had had, slip away from under his feet and he was falling.

Leo looked at the younger man with alarm. When the hell had Josh gone suddenly downhill? He glanced at the bandaged hand and arm and suddenly got much more worried. There was no way he could let Josh out of here, adrift in this state of mind. He knew, without knowing quite how, that it would be tantamount to murder. Why hadn't he listened properly to Donna yesterday when she had been in here, on the verge of tears, asking him to help Josh. Why hadn't he listened to Sams sudden non- sequiters or paid attention to the pinched anxious look on the young mans face whenever the subject of Josh came up. Which, now he thought about it had come up a couple of confused times. Or noticed how much more moody and worried Toby had been. Or CJ who had almost come right out and said it, although none of them were quite sure what 'it' was. Josh looked… haggard, at least ten years older, too thin, and his soul was somewhere else. He looked empty and defeated.

"Josh, for Gods sake sit down, before you fall over. When was the last time you slept? Or ate, for that matter? Sit down! And wait a minute."

Josh sat. He didn't know where Leo was going but was past really caring. That was it. Had he made a definite break for freedom and a way out of the black pit, lurking under the path? Or had he just cut his last lifeline? He didn't know, but in his current state, just didn't care.

Leo walked into the Presidents office holding the letter, worry mounting. The President was sitting at his desk scowling at some figures.

"Jed? I think we have a situation." He put the piece of paper down in front of his friend. Jed Bartlet read it and then looked up. "Is this over the Alternative Resources Conference? Because as it turns out, it was the best thing he could have done. They're actually working together now. Or is it yesterday? Either way, tell him we can't accept it" Leo shook his head.

"Jed, have you seen him lately? I mean, really looked at him, not just seen him, like the rest of us have done. Come over to the window. I don't think this is over the fuel- thing, or yesterday although that probably didn't help."

Jed went to the window between his office and the outside office and looked at his subordinate properly. He didn't like what he saw. The man who, like the rest of the senior staff, had become a part of his family, was missing. In his place was this… stranger. He turned back to Leo.

"How the hell did we miss this?" he asked him slowly. "I mean, look at him- he must have lost thirty pounds- and he couldn't really afford to lose ten in the first place! He's…", he shook his head. "How could we have missed this?"

"Not everyone did. Donna didn't. She came to me yesterday in a state over Josh but…" he glanced away. "It was just another thing for the workload that I couldn't add on yet. I should have made the time."

"Would've, Could've. Should've." said the President briskly. "I could've said the exact same things. Any of us could. But the important thing is what are we doing about it now?" Leo shrugged helplessly.

"I don't know. I really don't' know. He's handed in his resignation. I refused it but he's insisting.."

"Well…"

"Hang on… I have one idea… Sir I think it's time mandatory, instead of optional counseling came into effect for the people involved in the Rosslyn shooting" he said formally. The President looked at him.

"This is, I assume, on general principles and not due to any particular problem."

"Yes sir" Leo was positively standing to attention now. Neither mentoned what was on both minds- the less said in this company, by either side, the better.

"Very well." Leo turned and walked towards the door.

"And Leo?" he called quietly. "Start from the top…" Leo nodded and exited back into the room where Josh sat. He stood in front of him and, taking a deep breath, ripped the paper apart in front of Josh. Josh glanced up, but, before he had chance to say anything Leo spoke.

"Josh, it's your choice but I'm asking you now both as a friend and a boss, to listen to me first…"

Two days later Josh was standing in front of a wooden door with a small measure of confidence back again. Two days since Leo had sat him down and made him promise to see this guy. Trauma Counseling. And made him promise not to…do anything stupid in the meantime. He'd agreed but more out of duty and loyalty to his friends then for any belief it would do anything useful. His head came up and he pushed open the door and walked in. The door swung back again and Josh was inside.

Leo sat there. He'd been sitting in hour and could hear only the occasional shout. He wasn't listening for the words, but rather for the tone of voice. His winced slightly at the shouting but was paradoxically glad. Passive, defeated. depressed Josh, in that deadly exhausted calm was worrying. If he was shouting, that at least meant he felt things again. So he sat, hoping his gamble had paid off. He sat, and waited for Josh.

Whoo- angst-a-rama. Not my usual stuff but I thought I'd give it a go. Again- this was under Annere in the Stargate section so it's been moved here under the name Aries Zodiac. (I tried to get Aries but someone has already nabbed it. Darnit.)