Category: Post-Episodes (Debate Camp)
Summary: He'll marry her because he still loves her. She liked the sound of it. It sounded so pure, so simple and so understandable.
A/N: My WW mood is coming back!! (Though, now that I mentioned it, with my luck, it'll probably go away again...) I don't know what it was that put it off in the first place but it's slowly but certainly coming back. Let's see where it leads me.
Disclaimer: Well, you know it all. Not mine, blah blah blah. The title's from a Björk song.
by Elina
She smiled.
The smile crept slowly on her face as his words sunk in. She stared at him with her face full of amazement as he lifted up at first one finger, then another. She smiled as Josh made a stupid remark, his usual type, and slapped him playfully. She smiled genuinely pleased and happy at this new information in her hands.
Twins. Such a beautiful word. She could taste it in her mouth, feel the form of it even without actually saying it. She could see the little arms, fingers, toes, hear the soft baby giggle. She thought about Andy with her stomach growing bigger. And Toby. He always wanted to be a father. She remembered him telling it to her once. "I want to be a father," he'd said. His exact words. Now his dreams would come true.
She smiled at the thought as she followed the others to the meeting of Team Toby in Sam's room. She was still smiling as she seated on the couch near the wall and accepted the beer that was handed to her. She sat back casually and sipped the cold liquid. It tasted slightly bitter in her mouth.
Toby was not there. He'd acted like he didn't want their help but she knew that he appreciated their efforts. Otherwise she wouldn't be doing this. She wouldn't be sitting in a circle formed of chairs, drinking beers and discussing how to get Andy to say 'yes'. He wanted her to marry him. He wanted to be a father to his children. Perhaps he even still loved her. The thought had crossed her mind many times ever since she'd heard about his intentions. It sounded good. He'll marry her because he still loves her. She liked the sound of it. It sounded so pure, so simple and so understandable.
She smiled as Sam explained, wildly gesturing, his courageous plan that involved Toby dressed as Eros, little arrows and all, a lot of wires and, of course, Sam himself as the heroic matchmaker. She laughed with the others as he vividly and in detail described how Toby would fly through the air held by the wires with little pink wings attached to his back and declare his never dying love. When her beer bottle was empty, Charlie offered her another one and she took it with another smile. She kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet underneath herself as she listened to the others go about their suggestions. She rested her head against the backrest as Josh started explaining his idea and rolled her eyes as it turned out to be one of those once that made people wonder how he'd ever gotten to be the White House Deputy Chief of Staff. Now and then somebody came up with something actually usable or at least almost usable but most of the time the plans thrown up in the air were as crazy and absurd as Sam's had been. They laughed at their own ridiculous, half-drunken excuses of ideas, chatted, drunk some more beer and wondered about the new twist of events. It was White House gossip all night long; sophisticated and mild but gossip still. As the night got older and colder, the jokes got wilder, the wonder greater and the laughter louder. The beer bottles were emptied one by one, and as she finally pushed herself up from the couch, the time being around one a.m., and started for the door, her body was hovering uncertainly. She mouthed a smiling good-night to the others still staying to discuss the matter further. Her departure was accompanied by incomprehensive cheerful shouts.
She walked unsteadily across the darkened yard, only lighted by the various lamps shattered here and there, to her own room, diving through the heavy shadows and under the tree branches that stretched above her head. She tried to keep the drunken stumble off of her steps, straightened her back and took smaller steps instead of rushing. Her long legs tried not to tremble as she tried to balance on her heels. She felt as if her heels got caught in every little crack on the ground that they could find. A small chuckle escaped from her mouth as she almost tripped over a branch peeking out of the ground, and her hand automatically flew over her mouth to muffle the sound as if she was afraid that it would wake everybody up.
The night was peaceful around her. The gentle wind that rustled the leaves was not cold, instead it was soft as it caressed her burning cheeks. She swayed in it for the briefest second before settling the key into the lock of her room. The lock was stiff and she had to twiddle the key around in it a couple of times before it surrendered. With a small squeak the door flew open. Her hand reached out to pat the wall beside the door. She flicked on the lights as she found the switch. The small space filled with soft, yellow light, and she stumbled in.
Her steps took her further into the room, slowly and shaking a bit, as the door swung closed again. The quiet bang left hanging under the yellow light. She slid her suit jacket off and threw it on the carefully made bed. It landed there with a soft swish.
The violent sob that flashed through her like a knife ribbing her open and bent her in double came out of nowhere. She slammed her hand on her mouth hopelessly as if trying to forbid its exit, breathed in sharply to draw it back in. But it was already out there. It echoed in her ears. It screamed. Her other hand pressed against her stomach, trying to stop the feeling of numb pain from spreading from the pit of her gore and crawling into her every pore. The fingers of the hand that covered her mouth dug against her cheeks as the palm abused her lips, bruising them with pressure. She stared into the space before her, fiercely blinking back the tears, and fought the feeling that twinkled in her arms and her legs. The desperate need. The twitching of her upper lip. She held her breath. The night air, once peaceful, now wrapped around her chest and squeezed, squeezed tighter and tighter.
Her body jerked. She was unable to control the spasm of her muscles that sent her body shaking. The suppressed cry shook her chest sharply, and her fingers dug deeper into her cheeks. Her lips twisted into a horrible shape, her mouth opened but no sound came for a second. She felt like hitting herself. Everywhere. The cry, screaming to be let out, pounded her from inside like tiny daggers, making her skin ache.
The pathetic little sound forced its way out of her soul and into the night, uncontrollably, unstoppable. Her face crumbled with the power of it. Her fingers hovered over her mouth, uncertain where to land, but they weren't pressing against the skin anymore.
Her body dropped on the bed. She curled up like a little child on top of the bedspread, pulled her knees closer to her chest and hugged herself tight. The tears came rolling freely now wetting her cheeks and the fabric beneath her head. The sobs echoed from the plainly painted walls.
She trembled under the yellow light.