Okayyy lets try this again (the site glitched when I posted this earlier)...I had a few people ask for a second part for this, and this was what happened. Apologies in advance. *hides*
Josh looked around the empty room, looking at but not really seeing the traces of Leo all over it: the suit in the corner ready to be warn, his glasses on the table, a glass of water. Things Leo would never touch again.
It was thoughts like that that threatened to break what little of his composure Josh had maintained throughout the day. He felt empty, he felt numb, he felt like he was watching everything happen underwater, like it wasn't really him.
He had come in here for…god, why had he come in here? He had called the front desk to have Leo's room cleaned, but he could have done that from anywhere in the hotel, he didn't have to torture himself by standing here, surrounded by the last things his mentor would have seen, the leftover scraps from the paramedics' fruitless efforts to save his life, but he just couldn't move. He was frozen in place, leaning against the couch with his hands in his pockets, unable to make sense of anything in his life.
He hoped this was all a dream. One big twisted, sick dream and he would wake up tomorrow and go back to work at the White House and Leo would yell at him for something, anything. Josh would give up every single thing that had happened in the last year if it meant Leo was still there. No contest.
"You were right," he said out loud, his voice sounding strained even to his own ears. "It was so easy. It just happened, just like you said it would. It was—"
He broke off with a shuddering breath, because he didn't know. He didn't know anything anymore. It was Donna, of course it was Donna, but then Josh had gone from the highest of highs to the worst night of his life, and the night wasn't even over yet and he just didn't know.
"All I wanted to do was make you proud," he tried again. "I don't even know if I did that. I hope I did. God I really hope I did enough for you. That I can…keep doing enough for you. I don't know…I don't know. I need you to tell me. Why—"
The room grew blurry and Josh realized absently that he was crying, something that really shouldn't surprise him after the intense buildup of emotions he had experienced not just today, but the past year. He sniffed and blinked, his vision just blurred again but the tears refused to fall. It felt wrong to cry, somehow, like it wouldn't solve anything. Josh supposed he might just be too numb.
"I just hope…god," he whispered shakily. "I hope…I don't know how to do this without you. I'm already so lost…you were right, about everything, every time and now—" He sniffed again, looking up towards the ceiling. "You didn't even get to see. I was so happy this morning, Leo. And I didn't even get to tell you. You probably…you would've acted like it wasn't a big deal, but it was. It is. And then you would've told me where the hell I go from here. I could've used that because, god Leo, I don't have a damn clue. Not a damn—"
His voice cracked as it gave out, and Josh squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head, trying desperately to retain control of himself. He was vaguely aware of someone else entering the room, and he channeled his focus into a few steady breaths. Donna came closer, but didn't say anything, didn't look like she was going to say anything, and Josh was grateful that she could read him so well as to know that he still needed a minute.
"I called housekeeping," Josh finally sniffled, hating the way his voice still shook. "I don't want Mallory coming here and finding the paramedic stuff." He didn't know why he started with that, it seemed like such a trite explanation, but it was the only one his brain could come up with. At least, the only one that wouldn't reduce him to an embarrassing, sobbing mess on the spot.
"We won Texas," Donna replied after a moment. "California would put us over." And of course, there was still an election happening as they spoke. Somehow, the rest of the world hadn't stopped the minute Leo's heart did. Like Josh's world had. Thinking about the election just seemed so…trivial at the moment. Months and months of hard work and for what? What did it all mean if Leo McGarry wasn't there at the helm, shaping the future of America in every way imaginable. It felt so wrong to continue counting electoral votes, when all Josh wanted was to lock himself away for a few days, or maybe forever.
"You've done a remarkable thing," she continued. "Win or lose. An extraordinary thing." Then how come Josh felt so useless? He was used to feeling useless, of course, there were any number of things he had learned he couldn't control, that he just had to sit back and let them run their course. But he had never felt like this. This was a different kind of uselessness, like he should be able to do something, but he was paralyzed while the world spun out of control around him and all he could do was watch.
"I talked him into this. Into joining the ticket," Josh rasped, staring straight ahead, doing his best to keep his face expressionless. He hadn't even identified that particular emotion until he said it, but of course he felt guilty. Every step along the way, whenever Leo had stumbled, Josh had tried passing it off as his own failure. After all, it was true. He had been the one to convince Leo to sign on, and Josh couldn't help but feel guilty, just another way he had let Leo down, and now…
"Nobody ever talked Leo into doing anything he didn't want to do," Donna reminded him, and that sounded exactly like what Toby said—albeit with a little less tact—before the VP debate. Josh hadn't forced him into doing anything, but it had been his idea, and he was the one who asked, had pushed for it, even, and for that reason Josh couldn't shake the feeling that he was responsible for this, that if Leo hadn't pushed himself so hard he would have been fine, that if he had stayed in Washington someone would have noticed the signs and he would be okay. He would be alive.
"And he'd want you upstairs, not down here," she continued softly, and underneath the guilt and numbness and grief, Josh felt his heart constrict at the way she continued talking to him, encouraging and gentle as always, and he felt so grateful to have someone in his life who knew him like she did. He suspected Leo had known this all along; of course he had, the man knew everything. You and Donna make sense in a way very few people do he had said. At that moment Josh knew exactly what Leo had been talking about.
"You belong up there, it's your night." It didn't feel like his night. This was just as much Leo's night as it was Josh's, and without the other man there to share it, the idea of celebrating felt so wrong. The idea of doing anything felt completely wrong.
He wouldn't be where he was today without Leo, either professionally or personally. He never would have come to work for Bartlet, without the man's unending patience he would have been unemployed years ago, and he certainly wouldn't have had the courage to embark on this crazy journey with Matt Santos if not for Leo's constant encouragement and guidance. And now, whatever happened the rest of the night, Josh knew his ride wasn't over, something would come next. But he wouldn't have Leo around for that. He had spent almost all of his professional career striving to impress the man. It was what he knew how to do. Without that…Josh just felt so lost. He needed it, he needed Leo.
Donna came closer, her hand gently brushing his cheek before resting on the side of his neck. Josh leaned into her touch, squeezing his eyes shut against the emotions threatening to explode from him.
"He was so proud of you Josh," she whispered and that was it. Donna pulled him to her and he just went, resting his head against her chest and she stroked his back as he finally broke down. How could anything be okay after this?
I must have watched this scene over 15 times while writing this story and let me tell you it doesn't hurt any less (I literally had to stop and cry while writing last night). It's a little all over the place, but please let me know what you think!