-PART ONE - (After Roslyn)

They were all protective of Josh in those first few days after the shooting. CJ kept the press at bay. She had drawn a line in the sand. Most of the press liked Josh. He was, after all, guy with the secret plan to fight inflation. Occasionally, an over zealous reporter would ask questions of a personal nature. It would be about Josh's mom or family history and CJ would conduct an impromptu master class on the art of the subtle put down. Most of the reporters knew where the line was and that CJ would not allow to be crossed. Josh was only two days removed from almost loosing his life and Josh Lyman was more than just a news story to CJ. The press knew this and was respectful.

Other staffers found their own ways to protect Josh. Toby had become proactive. He would have driven an Abraham's tank through the front door of the headquarters of West Virginia White Pride were he given permission to do so.  Leo took on the job of two men. He steadfastly refused to bring anyone in on an interim basses to assume Josh's duties even after he found out the length of time Josh would be recuperating. He worked without his deputy and had to be coaxed to farm some of Josh's responsibilities to other members of the senior staff. There was a hole in the staff that Leo refused to fill. Sam took on as many of Josh's responsibilities as he was able. He dove into his work. Each, in their own ways, found a way to protect their friend. They did so because it was all they could do and it helped them ignore the powerlessness they all felt.

Those first few days after the shooting were full of optimism for Josh's recovery. Within thirty-six hours, he was lucid enough to acknowledge visitors. He was in dire physical pain and highly medicated and became easily exhausted by even short conversations. He understood the extent of his injuries and was already complaining about the length of time he would be hospitalized. It was evident to all who visited that Josh was in great pain, but he did what could not to show it.

At seventy-two hours he was able pay attention to the television. A voracious watcher of news, he would flip from CNN to Headline News to MSNBC and CSPAN. There was always news about the shooting and Josh would stop flipping, transfixed by the videos of the event that he couldn't remember. There were several angles of the shooting provided by the various media outlets who had sent reporters to film the town hall meeting. Josh would watch the videos as if they were his personal Zepruder tapes and tried to reconstruct what happened on that day. His friends were concerned with his exposure to these images, but said nothing.

Soon, he was released from the ICU to a room in the cardiac wing of GW. It felt to everyone as if a corner had been turned.

The infection set in on the sixth day. It sent Josh back to the ICU and the days that followed were more frightening than the initial surgery. It had appeared with a voracious suddenness that left everyone, including the surgeons, terrified. Josh had been laid open for over 12 hours on the operating table six days earlier and, despite all precaution, the infection had made its way into his system. His condition declined so rapidly and took everyone by surprise. His fever seemed uncontrollable and he coughed incessantly. It threatened to compromise the work done by the doctors that had saved Josh's life.

Toby sat with Donna at Josh's bedside the evening he had been readmitted to the ICU. The pain, coughing and 103 degree fever cast Josh into a state of delirium. Twice, Josh had ventured off into nightmare mumblings which left Toby paralyzed. Donna stood by Josh's side and firmly called his name until he woke. Toby was taken aback by the expression on his face when his eyes shot open. There was a look of pure, unvarnished terror in Josh's eyes. It was a look that Toby had never seen there and hoped to never see again. He did nothing as Donna gently guided him out of his nightmare and his eyes began to focus on reality. He turned his head from Donna to Toby.  Josh looked at him for a moment, but said nothing before drifting back to sleep. Josh's mom, who had arrived while Josh was still undergoing his surgery, was not at the hospital during these times. Toby wondered if it was too much for her to see her son like this.

The next day, the senior staff was called to the residence. CJ, Toby, Leo and Sam sat with the president while the first lady explained to them the gravity of Josh's condition. Rather than allowing the surgeons at George Washington to break the news to them, Abby had insisted on speaking to them herself. She distilled down the medical jargon to the essentials and, with great compassion, explained to them the danger he was in. He had a staph infection and the doctors were unable to control his fever. Fluid was collecting in his lungs and he was in respiratory distress. He had been sedated and reintubated to help him breath. His condition had been downgraded from stable to critical.

There was a long silence after she spoke the grim news. Everyone was struggling to maintain their composure, even the president, but no tears flowed. Leo rubbed his temples with one hand. He had a particular closeness to Josh. He was an old friend of the Lyman family and throught of Josh's mother. She had lost one child and had also lost her husband. Now there was the possibility that she would loose her other child.  It was easier for Leo to think of someone else's pain. The thought of loosing the man who was like his  son was unbearable. Josh was his fiercely loyal deputy who would do anything for Leo. Josh would sooner swallow glass than fail him.

With great hesitation and an almost imperceptible crack to his voice, Leo quietly addressed Abby, "What are his chance?"

"There are so many variables," Abby started to explain, "the doctors need identify the extent of the infection. They need to find the right course of antibiotics. Intubation comes with its own set of complications..."

"Abby," the president gently prodded her to answer Leo's question.

She answered, "Fifty/fifty would be optimistic."

There was more silence as the news sunk in. Numbers and statistics were often the backbone of good political debate, but this was not politics. This was family. The numbers brought no comfort.  Sam rubbed his eyes, perhaps ridding them of  threatening tears. CJ and Toby both stared blankly ahead. Leo regarded President Bartlet, who, still convalescing from his own injuries, looked tired and older than his years. He looked at the members of his staff. Leo could see an expression in his old friend's eyes that he had only seen few other times. It was a look of utter and complete helplessness.

Charlie, who had been standing near the door on the periphery of the gathering, finally broke the silence, "Have you talked to Donna, Ma'am?" he asked the first lady.

They had all been concerned with Donna, who was so completely dedicated to Josh. She had been so withdrawn and pensive the evening of the shooting. She hadn't cried in front of the staff. She had been so close to tears when Toby had initially broken the news to her, but none of them had seen her cry. She would leave the private waiting room for several minutes and come back with red eyes. It was evident that she was grieving alone. Once, Sam had followed her out of the waiting room but she had told him, with a weak smile, that she was fine and that she just needed to use the rest room. Sam hadn't pursued the issue and let her go. They had all let her go. She had taken the role of Josh's protector.  She had spent every day at his side with Josh's mother. Donna had also taken on the role of caretaker to Josh's mom. She had made sure she had warm coffee and gave up the comfortable chair next to his bed when she needed rest. Where she found the strength, nobody knew, but she was a paragon. She also had taken on the role of traffic cop in the hospital room and made sure that none of the staff stayed too long and trying to insure that Josh wasn't being overtaxed by the flow of well wishers.

"I was with her this morning. Josh's surgeon and I talked to Mrs. Lyman and Donna," she explained.

Abby's statement was left to hang in the air. The pain and fear in the room was palpable. There was more silence.

Finally, Leo looked at President Bartlet, who gave him a slight nod.

"Thank you, everyone," he spoke as if adjourning a staff meeting. Everyone slowly rose to their feet and thanked the president, then thanked Abby. The left the residence and returned to their offices, each alone, to resume their duties.

That night, Toby, CJ and Sam visited Josh at the hospital. They stayed as long as the doctors and Donna would allow. They were all becoming accustomed to her heavy handed dealing when it came to protecting him and totally accepted her authority. She was not an assistant and they were not senior staff once they were in the hospital. Donna was Josh's guard dog. She would not back down to any of the staff, with the exception of the president or first lady. Even when Leo had stood toe-to-toe with her and yelled that he just wanted to go in for a half an hour, Donna had not backed down and told him to come back another time because Josh needed to rest. She had displayed a strength that, though frustrating, generated deep respect from the entire staff.

They stood around Josh's bed, saying very little. Josh's mother had stepped out of the room when they arrived, but not before they had recited a series of half-hearted platitudes about how Josh was tough and how he was going to pull through. They had done their best to sound sincere. They stayed for a short time, saying very little to Josh or to each other. He looked bad. The doctors were keeping him in a drug induced coma while he was on the ventilator and small strips of surgical tape kept his eyelids shut. His color was inhumanly gray, like a ghost. Abby was right. Fifty/fifty seemed optimistic.

Afterwards, they had gathered in a small bar not far from GW. Sam tried coaxing Donna along, who herself was looking gaunt and tired, but she declined citing that she was going to pick up dinner for Mrs. Lyman. Toby suggested she come afterwards, but, still, she declined. They all knew they she wouldn't be persuaded.

After the affects of several stiff drinks, CJ and Sam began talking about Josh and shared a few of their favorite stories. Sam recalled how Josh had, several years ago, delivered a clever come on line to a beautiful woman in a bar only to find out that her boyfriend, who had overheard, was a starting tackle for the Minnesota Vikings. He had managed to charm his way through an apology and the football player ended up buying their next round of drinks. CJ laughed about the time during the campaign that she had accidentally knocked Josh's cell phone off of the balcony railing of the Marriott in Des Moines. Josh had, the next day,  used his best debating skills to convince the poor kid at a local radio shack to honor the phone's warranty even though it looked like the phone had been run over by a truck. Toby said nothing, just listened.  

"I don't know what we're going to do with out him," said Sam, absently. He was not referring to the Bartlet administration surviving the loss of Josh, but, rather, how would each of them be able to get over the loss of their friend.

The comment from Sam was too much for Toby to bear. He exploded without warning.

"No... no... we are not going to do this!" he shouted.

"What?" said Sam, perplexed.

"You two are sitting here having a Goddamned Irish wake!"

"Toby..." CJ tried to calm him.

"I will not sit here and let you talk about him in the past tense! I will not...."  Toby stammered slightly, then continued. He released his pent up rage on the two people he should have been leaning on the most,  "fifty/fifty is fifty/fifty. Optimistic or not, I will Not... I will NOT sit here and listen to you bury him before he's dead!"

Toby stood up and stormed out of the bar. CJ and Sam were left in stunned silence.