When they got back to the White House, neither Sam nor Josh asked where they'd been, and Toby was grateful. CJ left his side the moment they reached her office, walked in, and shut the door. He heard the lock click, and wondered if she was going to sit down and cry again. He didn't want to watch that. Turning away, he strode into his own office, and collapsed at his desk, breathing out a long, resigned sigh. Well, he'd tried. He'd tried, and she'd just have to get over it herself. She couldn't just slump around like this forever, and even she knew that. Life had to go on.
"Um..." Sam cleared his throat from the doorway, alerting Toby to his presence.
"What?" That came out more harshly than Toby intended, and he saw Sam grimace. "What's up?" He asked, more gently, blowing out a breath. "What do you need?"
"I have to...is she gonna be ok?" Sam cut himself off mid-sentence, glancing significantly towards the closed door of CJ's office. Toby shrugged.
"How should I know?" Then he stopped, shaking his head. "Yeah, she'll be fine. Just leave her alone. What do you need?" Yes, Toby thought, she'll be fine. I'll be fine. We'll all be fine. I need an aspirin.
"Right," Sam said, sounding like he was trying to believe himself. "Of course."
* * * * * * * * * * *
"...and that about wraps it up." CJ finished quietly, standing in the pressroom, looking at but not really seeing the sea of faces swimming below her. "I need to...get back...to get out...goodbye."
"CJ, CJ!" The voices called, but she wasn't listening to them. Stepping quickly down from the podium, she reached towards the door, grateful that it was over. Funny, she thought, she used to like this job.
"CJ!" A booming voice suddenly drowned out the others. Who was that? No one she knew personally. Someone new? "CJ, can you tell us about Simon Donovan's funeral yesterday?" No, No, I have to ignore them, she thought, taking a breath.
But now the voices were chorusing, the same thing, the same words, the same way...she couldn't think. "CJ, the funeral, the funeral, CJ, CJ, CJ!" She wanted to scream, and tear at them, but she couldn't, not as the Press Secretary, not in the White House, not here, not now. Slowly, she turned around.
"Right...the funeral...I...I forgot..." Staring out and downward, they all looked foreign to her. "It..." CJ stopped, and swallowed, trying again. "It was at 9:30 AM...at...at the church..."
"Which church, CJ?" The voice sounded testy. Which church? She couldn't remember. She couldn't remember anything. It was all blurry...her eyes were blurry, the faces were blurry...she couldn't see straight. Tears? Angrily, she dashed them away. Again, they persisted, "CJ, CJ, CJ..."
"I...I don't know! I don't know, leave me alone...stop it..." The tears were flowing again, now. Damnit, why couldn't she stop? She needed to control herself! She couldn't do this, she had to think! She had to reason, to speak, to be controlled...she couldn't go on like this. Rushing out the door, she slammed it behind her, and sagged against the wall in the hallway. It was a few minutes before she finally wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and looked up.
Toby and Josh were standing there, concern on their faces, and...pity, too. Gods, she didn't want their pity! She didn't want anyone's pity, not even now, not even when everything seemed to be unraveling. Pushing past them, she stalked down the hall, and entered her office again. Locked in, she stood in the corner for a long time, just breathing.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Toby and Josh just sort of looked at each other after she'd gone. "Oh, jeez," Josh finally said. "I didn't really think...I mean, I didn't know it was like that."
"Yeah," Toby said, biting his lip. "It's that bad."
Josh bowed his head, apparently thinking. Toby himself was unsure of what to do. That hadn't been good. At all. In fact, if the President found out about that, it could be very, very bad. He respected CJ, but...of course, he had a campaign to run. And she was pointless, useless right now.
"She really loved him, didn't she?" Josh asked, glancing at Toby from out of the corners of his eyes. Toby just stared at him.
"It's just that...I don't know, I thought you'd..." Josh trailed off, giving him a significant look.
"I really don't have the time or energy for games right now," Toby replied testily. "You thought I'd what?"
Looking lost, Josh drummed his fingers against the door. "I thought you'd...you know, care."
"Care? Of course I care! Yes, I, Toby Ziegler, care very much. Is that good enough for you? Do I have to make it any clearer?" Toby was angry. Did people really see it that way? That he didn't care? "But," and he knew it was true, "There's nothing I can do. Nothing. She's got to sit this one through herself. I've tried. Have you seen me try? It's only been two days since the man died, Josh, give her a few. Give her a chance."
"That's not what I meant," Josh insisted, but he looked finished, so Toby didn't respond. It was better if they just left it alone. Left her alone. Left him alone.
"Um..." Sam cleared his throat from the doorway, alerting Toby to his presence.
"What?" That came out more harshly than Toby intended, and he saw Sam grimace. "What's up?" He asked, more gently, blowing out a breath. "What do you need?"
"I have to...is she gonna be ok?" Sam cut himself off mid-sentence, glancing significantly towards the closed door of CJ's office. Toby shrugged.
"How should I know?" Then he stopped, shaking his head. "Yeah, she'll be fine. Just leave her alone. What do you need?" Yes, Toby thought, she'll be fine. I'll be fine. We'll all be fine. I need an aspirin.
"Right," Sam said, sounding like he was trying to believe himself. "Of course."
* * * * * * * * * * *
"...and that about wraps it up." CJ finished quietly, standing in the pressroom, looking at but not really seeing the sea of faces swimming below her. "I need to...get back...to get out...goodbye."
"CJ, CJ!" The voices called, but she wasn't listening to them. Stepping quickly down from the podium, she reached towards the door, grateful that it was over. Funny, she thought, she used to like this job.
"CJ!" A booming voice suddenly drowned out the others. Who was that? No one she knew personally. Someone new? "CJ, can you tell us about Simon Donovan's funeral yesterday?" No, No, I have to ignore them, she thought, taking a breath.
But now the voices were chorusing, the same thing, the same words, the same way...she couldn't think. "CJ, the funeral, the funeral, CJ, CJ, CJ!" She wanted to scream, and tear at them, but she couldn't, not as the Press Secretary, not in the White House, not here, not now. Slowly, she turned around.
"Right...the funeral...I...I forgot..." Staring out and downward, they all looked foreign to her. "It..." CJ stopped, and swallowed, trying again. "It was at 9:30 AM...at...at the church..."
"Which church, CJ?" The voice sounded testy. Which church? She couldn't remember. She couldn't remember anything. It was all blurry...her eyes were blurry, the faces were blurry...she couldn't see straight. Tears? Angrily, she dashed them away. Again, they persisted, "CJ, CJ, CJ..."
"I...I don't know! I don't know, leave me alone...stop it..." The tears were flowing again, now. Damnit, why couldn't she stop? She needed to control herself! She couldn't do this, she had to think! She had to reason, to speak, to be controlled...she couldn't go on like this. Rushing out the door, she slammed it behind her, and sagged against the wall in the hallway. It was a few minutes before she finally wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and looked up.
Toby and Josh were standing there, concern on their faces, and...pity, too. Gods, she didn't want their pity! She didn't want anyone's pity, not even now, not even when everything seemed to be unraveling. Pushing past them, she stalked down the hall, and entered her office again. Locked in, she stood in the corner for a long time, just breathing.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Toby and Josh just sort of looked at each other after she'd gone. "Oh, jeez," Josh finally said. "I didn't really think...I mean, I didn't know it was like that."
"Yeah," Toby said, biting his lip. "It's that bad."
Josh bowed his head, apparently thinking. Toby himself was unsure of what to do. That hadn't been good. At all. In fact, if the President found out about that, it could be very, very bad. He respected CJ, but...of course, he had a campaign to run. And she was pointless, useless right now.
"She really loved him, didn't she?" Josh asked, glancing at Toby from out of the corners of his eyes. Toby just stared at him.
"It's just that...I don't know, I thought you'd..." Josh trailed off, giving him a significant look.
"I really don't have the time or energy for games right now," Toby replied testily. "You thought I'd what?"
Looking lost, Josh drummed his fingers against the door. "I thought you'd...you know, care."
"Care? Of course I care! Yes, I, Toby Ziegler, care very much. Is that good enough for you? Do I have to make it any clearer?" Toby was angry. Did people really see it that way? That he didn't care? "But," and he knew it was true, "There's nothing I can do. Nothing. She's got to sit this one through herself. I've tried. Have you seen me try? It's only been two days since the man died, Josh, give her a few. Give her a chance."
"That's not what I meant," Josh insisted, but he looked finished, so Toby didn't respond. It was better if they just left it alone. Left her alone. Left him alone.