XIV

The air was beginning to chill as the evening drew on, but he was used to the New Hampshire weather. This didn't begin to approach true cold; 'crisp', his father would have called it. He sat with his feet up, his book folded spine up beside him now it was too dark to read. Soon he would go inside, but not just yet.

He had a lot of time since he'd retired, and he liked to spend as much of it as possible outside. He'd always loved nature, felt more comfortable with it than people most of the time. He couldn't stand to live in the stifling, breathless environment of the inner city.

The back door swung open, and his wife appeared behind him. "Johnny? Phone."

He stood up, groaning slightly as his joints creaked. "Who is it?" He squinted at her in the dimness. "Frank?"

He began to make out that her expression as his eyes adjusted to the light spilling out of the kitchen, and it looked tense. "No. It's your brother."

"Jed?"

No, John, your other brother.

The sarcastic barb that normally would have tripped easily from her tongue didn't come out, because they both knew Jed didn't call late on a Tuesday night. Jed didn't call much at all, as a matter of fact, and not only because of his crowded schedule. There'd always been a gulf between them, not so much hostility as discomfort.

He made his way inside, cursing the aches in his joints, and lifted the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hey, Johnny."

Jed sounded tired. But then he always did; looked it, too, if you knew how to see behind the flash of that dazzling smile on camera to the lines of tension beneath.

He'd had a lot of practise doing that, through the years.

"What's wrong?" He didn't make a pretence that this might be a social call, and Jed didn't either. There was a long, heavy silence before he made his reply.

"There's... there's gonna be some stuff on the news tomorrow."

"About what?" John pulled the chair closer to sit down on the arm of it, suspecting he might need it. "Is it something about the girls? Are you sick?"

"No." He sighed again. "Some people have been... digging up stuff that..." A longer pause. "They're gonna be talking about dad."

It was his own turn to hold the silence. Their father was not a subject that ever came up between them; not now, nor even when he was still alive. There were just... some things you didn't talk about in the Bartlet household.

He remembered, although he pretended he didn't - to himself, because nobody else had ever known there was something to remember or forget. Angry words in the next room and cold silences at the supper table, Jed limping and wincing or rubbing his back but never saying a word.

It had always been Jed. Jed, who you could rely on to open his mouth and let theories and feelings tumble out no matter how hard you were gripping your cutlery and staring at the plate and willing him just for once to let it pass.

Jed could never learn to be mediocre like his younger brother. He didn't know how to slip through a crowd without becoming the centre of it. He didn't know how to take a class without the inevitable A-grades and commendations. He didn't know how to just talk without talking about things that were important.

He didn't know how to go unnoticed. And now, things that neither of them cared to dwell upon were going to be noticed.

The silence stretched on, because what could he say, and what could Jed say, that was timely now but hadn't been spoken forty, fifty years ago?

Jed cleared his throat, but his voice sounded more ragged than ever when he spoke again. "Anyway, I... I thought you should know."

"Yeah."

Silence, for a beat too long.

"Give my love to Sally."

"And mine to Abbey and the kids."

"Yeah." Another, uncomfortable pause. "Goodnight, Johnny."

"Goodnight." Impulsively, he picked up a phrase that his brother had several times used on him in their childhood years. "Just use the nightlight if you have nightmares, okay? I promise not to tell."

"Okay." Laughter entered Jed's voice briefly, and for a moment, things were lighter and easier. "Don't worry about me," he said warmly. "I've got Abbey."

"Good. That's good." He breathed out. "Goodnight, Jed."

"Goodnight, Johnny."

He hung up.

Sally looked up at him with some concern as he headed back out onto the stoop. "What was that about?"

And he just sighed, and softly shook his head as he sat down beside her.

Donna appeared in his office doorway, and gave him a tentative smile. "Hey, it's me."

Josh had to smile back. "And here was I thinking you were your evil twin," he said wearily.

Her grin widened. "I'm the nice one?" she queried.

"Out of you and an imaginary person?" He pretended to deliberate, and she smacked him lightly on the head with a file folder.

"It's time to go."

He frowned at her, but only playfully. "Don't you know I have to-?"

"Stare at that wall some more?"

"I'm honing my x-ray vision."

"How's that working for you so far?"

He sighed quietly, and rubbed his eyes. "I try to see things coming, but it doesn't usually work."

"We can't all be superheroes, Josh," Donna reminded him softly.

"No? What happened to Positron Man and Electron Girl?" His words were teasing, but the tone behind them serious enough.

"Even we have to recharge our spark sometimes." She took his arm to tug him out of his chair, and he obligingly stood and shrugged on his jacket. Then she recaptured his hand and dragged him out of his office.

They walked out into the deserted bullpen. After a few moments Josh paused, and looked down. "What are you doing?" he asked her, mildly bemused.

"Holding your hand," she supplied matter-of-factly.

"Okay." He blinked for a few moments. "Why?"

"In case you get lost," she said brightly.

He had to grin back. "Okay. You keep hold of me, and I'll keep hold of you, and maybe that way neither of us will get lost."

"It's a plan," she agreed. They left the West Wing walking together in step.

"Hey, Zoey."

"Charlie!" His wife greeted him with a delighted grin, and stood on tiptoe to slide her hands onto his shoulders and kiss him. She remained that way, peering into his eyes as the smile wobbled a little with uncertainty. "How's dad? Is he still tired?"

It wasn't supposed to be Charlie's place to report on his employer's condition to anybody, but Zoey had been worried about her father for a while now. He'd been showing signs of some buried stress for some time now, and this week had been worse than ever.

Perhaps, anyway. It was possible he was projecting, considering the other things that had been going on this week...

Charlie kissed her again, lightly, to reassure her. "I don't know," he admitted, "I don't think he slept well last night. But your mother came back early."

"Mom's home?" she smiled, leaning against his shoulder.

"Yeah. She wasn't supposed to back until Thursday afternoon, but I guess her thing got cancelled."

"Good," Zoey sighed, sounding relieved. It was no secret the president could only truly relax when his wife was at his side. She hesitated for a moment, and Charlie was content to just stand there holding her.

After a moment, she looked up at him. "You know, if mom's here, we should probably-"

"Yeah."

He was pretty certain his... in-laws - God, that still felt weird - were going to find out the news sooner or later, and the longer they left off telling them, the more awkward that conversation was going to be.

Like it wasn't going to be awkward enough already. He'd tried to imagine broaching the subject with the president several times, usually ending with a certain amount of panicked hyperventilation. Still, it would probably be easier to talk to the First Lady.

And yet... Zoey bit her lip, and echoed his own thoughts. "I don't want to just... dump this on him, you know? I don't want this to be, like, one more thing in the middle of a lot of stress."

"It wouldn't be," Charlie reassured her, gripping her hands, for all that he'd been having similar thoughts. She snorted softly.

"Oh, come on, Charlie, you know he still thinks I'm like, six years old. It's gonna make his brain explode."

"Yeah," he admitted. "Oh, but in a good way," he added, off her glare.

Zoey let out a breath, and leaned against his shoulder again. "Still, we don't have to do this, like, right now. It's not like there's a massive hurry."

"No," he agreed, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling her hair, effectively bringing the conversation to a close.

He just hoped that whatever it was building in the atmosphere in the West Wing wasn't about to blow up in his face and prove him wrong.