Title: "The Lamentable Demise of George" Part 4
Author: Madeleine Mitchell Carr
Email:
Category: General, Josh/Donna
Rating: PG
Summary: Josh, Donna, a chinchilla. General mayhem and confusion. Many misunderstandings ensue. A touch of angst and a pinch of romance.
Donna POV
Spoilers: Post-'Noel'. General season 2 stuff
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Aaron Sorkin and NBC; I'm just borrowing them. Please don't sue me, as I have no money.
Feedback will be taken in, fed and loved to excess
I'm really worried about Josh.
Let me rephrase that.
I'm more worried than usual about Josh.
Actually, I think I'm past worried, into the realms of frantic.
I thought he was getting better, I really did. Up until this afternoon, it had been a pretty good day. Until that damn doctor called. Call me paranoid, but when a person you really care about almost dies from a horrible violent act, has a long and grim recovery and then almost loses himself in PTSD, you find yourself watching him like a hawk, even thought you know, intellectually, that he's getting better.
Josh is a strong man - there's no doubt about that. But he's also a brooder, and a bottler. He broods and bottles and broods some more, until everything explodes in his face and makes a very nasty mess. Which I have to clean up.
I'll tell you something about Josh that very few people get. He's a charismatic person (boy, is he ever), and he loves to be the centre of attention. When he's noticed for his wit, his brilliance and his masterful strategies (I'm paraphrasing him, by the way), he's a very happy boy indeed. But make him the centre of attention for being hurt, or sick, or mentally damaged. Well, hate is not strong enough a word to describe how he feels about that.
It's like taking a shy agoraphobic, sticking him on the stage at the New York Met and telling him to sing the last act of Die Meistersingers.
Total mental withdrawal with a side order of self-hatred and a paranoia chaser.
So, I was not particularly surprised that he fielded my questions about Dr Anderson. I was surprised to get as much out of him as I did. Unfortunately, what I did get out of him frankly terrified me.
Why was Josh receiving calls from a medical doctor, a medical specialist, and then refusing to tell me anything about it? If it were anyone else, I'd hardly be concerned, but this was Josh and I…. well, I worry.
While I was stood in his office, still trying to process this information about Dr Anderson, the medical specialist, Josh went completely off the rails and started rambling about Cindy's cats.
What?
I mean, what?
Was this a terrible attempt to change the subject? Was it avoidance? Denial? Had his mind finally snapped?
I was so confused, I just stood there parroting his questions back to him slowly and stupidly like a…a…a very slow and stupid person.
I must have looked pretty deranged myself, because he jumped back into the reality zone long enough to ask me if I was all right.
ALL RIGHT? OF COURSE I'M NOT ALL RIGHT
"No, I don't think I am" I said with difficulty, staring him in the knees and trying not to pull my hair out by the roots.
"What?"
Woah. Was that his voice? It sounded alarming enough for me to drag my eyes up to his face at any rate
OhGodohGodohGod
He was as pale as a pancake and his chest was hitching in that funny way it did when he couldn't breathe properly. Trust me, I know what it looks like. I think I may have said his name, but I was so scared at that moment, even my thoughts were a blank.
The phone rang. Josh snatched at it, his voice sounding a bit more normal and I tried to pull myself together. I mean, I hadn't quite got to the point where I was going to wrestle the phone from his hand and call 911, but I'd got pretty close and it was time to talk myself down from the ledge and think things through a bit more rationally.
But the curse of the phone struck again.
My brain, on a bit of a time delay had finally registered what he'd been saying. I just had time to briefly ponder the question 'Who's Robin? and who's George?' when I noticed that Josh's face was screwing up in the way it does when he gets some bad news. In fact, it was a kind of shadowy reflection of the expression he'd had when I'd told him about his Father almost 3 years ago. That wasn't a face you forgot in a hurry.
It appears I wasn't far wrong.
"He's dead?"
Josh sounded almost unbelieving.
"Josh? Who's dead?"
'Was it George?' I added mentally
"George is dead?"
Guess so.
"How?"
His voice sounded confused and plaintive and it was all I could do to stop myself leaping across the room and hugging him. I didn't because his body was positively vibrating with that 'leave-me-alone-to-brood-and-take-Wagner-off-the-programme-for-today' vibe he gets.
I contented myself with another,
"Josh?"
I don't think he heard me. He just stood there with the phone to his ear looking pale and shell-shocked. Then he winced a little and said,
"It's Okay, it's not your fault. Really. I don't blame you at all. Honestly. Look, just stop crying would you?"
He rambled on like that for a little while, then ended the phone call with a mumbled goodbye and sat down abruptly on the edge of his desk. Then he started at me blankly.
"George is dead", he said eventually
"Yes", I replied, resisting the temptation to ask 'who's George?' as I don't think he would have heard me.
He stared at me some more, then said quietly,
"Today has not been a good day." Then he shook his head as though trying to jostle some sense back into it.
I felt tears prick at the back of my eyes. Worry and concern and… quite a few other emotions were doing battle in my mind. And he sat there looking lost and confused. Before I could rationalise the action, I walked straight on over to him and put my hand against his cheek.
"Josh"
He leaned into my hand. It was a definite lean. The threatened tears started crowding into my throat. Then he dredged a smile up from somewhere and said ruefully,
"I can't believe I'm reacting like this about a…"
"JOSH!"
I jerked back, my hand whipping away from him as though repulsed. Josh struggled to his feet just as Sam strode through the door with his man-with-a-mission face.
"Hey, Sam", Josh managed weakly.
"Hey Josh. The President want's to see you."
"Now?"
"Of course now. He's going to Belgium in a couple of hours and wants to catch up with you before he leaves."
"Oh. Okay."
He shook himself some more, straightened his tie and headed for the door.
"Josh?"
I don't know why I said it like that. I didn't even know what I was going to say. He stopped, turned slightly to look at me, shot me a totally intense and indecipherable look, then started hustling himself out of there again, brushing against Sam as he strode out of the door.
A faint, "Later, Donna" drifted back into his office.
I must have stared after him for quite a while because when I finally shifted my gaze to the other occupant of the room, he was shooting me a very knowing look. Sam Seabourne can be very irritating on occasion.
"Hope I wasn't interrupting anything?"
TBC
Well was he? Only we know the answer. Will Donna grill Sam about George? Why is she so stupid about Josh? Donna's story continues after the break.