PART TEN
Hospital Five days later
Toby made his way to Sam's room. Eight days had passed since Sam had asked him to come. He was better now. The medication had worked, and Sam was slowly getting better.
The first two days had been the hardest. They were waiting to see if the treatment was going to work, Sam had a high fever, and some of the medication they were pumping into him was making him hallucinate. He was delirious half the time, and when he wasn't, he was too weak to talk to them and just stared at the ceiling. Sam didn't seem to remember most of that, though, and Toby supposed it was a good thing.
Then the doctor who had overseen his case since the beginning had told them that the medication seemed to be working, and everyone had breathed again.
Sam was still weak, and he had a long way to go until life got back to normal, but he was feeling a lot better, physically speaking.
Mentally . that was another story entirely. He was depressed (an after affect of some of the medication, but also a reaction to the events of the past two weeks and to the fact that he was now going to have to cope with a fair amount of restriction on his diet, on his lifestyle, and maybe on his work, although the subject hadn't been broached yet), and bitter about the situation.
He entered the room as Sam was hanging up the phone. He could see that his deputy was regaining some of his strength back - and he didn't look on the verge of passing out each time he moved anymore, which was a good sign too.
"Hey, who was it?" he asked, gesturing to the phone.
"My Mom. She wanted to ask if she could come. Again." He sighed a little and settled back on the pillows.
"What did you - "
"The same thing I always do, Toby. I love her, I do, but right now, she . she's not the kind of person who helps you going through a medical emergency. She was more worried than me when I had appendicitis in high school, and it was a walk in the park compared to ."
He trailed off, making a gesture which embraced the room, and Toby nodded.
"They both love you."
"I know. I know, and they mean well, but . the therapist I'm seeing - "
He stopped short and shot a look at Toby, as if to gauge his reaction. Toby kept his face carefully neutral and said, "Your doctor told me it was pretty standard that they recommend someone after that kind of trauma. He already did during your first stay here, if I remember correctly."
Sam smiled wickedly. "Yes. She's good. Anyway, I figured I might as well, you know . vent on someone who isn't my friend, and who I can't hurt, this time around."
"Sam - " Toby began, not wanting to see his friend become all worked up about his past behaviour now.
"It's gonna be though, Toby, and I'd be lying if I told you it didn't scare me. I'm . if I have to scream at someone, I'd rather it not be you anymore."
He blushed slightly, and mumbled something. For a brief moment, Toby debated the pros and cons of making him repeat himself. He decided against it, but . what did Sam want? Maybe a sign that things were going back to normal would be welcome?
"What was that?" he finally asked, sternly.
Just in case.
Sam dropped his eyes on the covers, and said, "After the help you've . well, after everything you've done, I wouldn't want you to think that I'm ungrateful, or something."
"I wouldn't think that. Sam, you were with Josh twenty hours a day when he was shot, did you think he was ungrateful when he snapped at Christmas?"
Sam looked at him, horrified. "Of course n - " He stopped and said "Oh."
"Precisely. Anyway, your therapist ." he began, trying to get the conversation back on tracks.
"She thinks it wouldn't necessarily be a bad idea to think of me first, at least for a while. She says I'm gonna have a hard time adjusting, and I shouldn't think about what the others are feeling before I think about what I'm felling."
"So she basically told you not to pressure yourself into trying to please everyone who wants you to do something?" Toby smiled, and Sam suddenly looked worried so he hastened to add, "She's right. Sam, your altruism is part of the reason we all . appreciate you, but please, don't be generous to the point of causing yourself a nervous breakdown. If you want to see someone, ask. If you don't want to see someone, say so. I mean it, okay."
He nodded, and when he looked up to Toby, some of the old spark was back in his eyes.
"So does it mean I can have my laptop back?" he asked mischievously.
"Very funny, Seaborn. And nicely tried, too," he said gruffly, and the sound of Sam's laughter filled the room, cut by a few "Ow, don't make me laugh, damn it."
* * * * *
Half an hour later, as Toby was beginning to prepare to leave, Sam suddenly asked, "Who was it?"
Suddenly, it seemed important to know that. Who had died? Who had given him his life back?
The question seemed to surprise Toby, who sat back and looked at him. He had enjoyed his boss's visit a lot, and he had had the first real laugh in weeks, but now he needed to know. And he knew Toby would give him the truth.
"Who was what?" his boss asked.
"The donor, Toby," he said, in a tone that made it clear he understood and disapproved of the attempted stalling.
"Oh. it was a twenty year old girl," Toby said softly. "A car accident. She had her donor card on her."
"Car accident, hum," he said quietly.
"Yes."
Sam nodded. "Her name?" he asked hesitantly, but Toby shook his head.
"They won't tell us, Sam. It's better this way. I know you'd like to thank her family ."
Sam nodded - it had been his plan.
"Think, would her mother be happy to meet someone who ."
"I don't know," Sam admitted. "I honestly have no idea."
"Neither do I. Let it be, Sam. Maybe later, but for now ."
"I guess so," he sighed, before saying goodbye to Toby.
* * * * *
Three days later
Josh poked his head in the room.
"Hey buddy. How are you doing?" he asked.
Sam rolled his eyes. "Tired of hearing people asking me how I'm doing," he said.
"Good, sarcasm. You're definitely on the road to recovery, my friend."
"Right," he groaned. He was going stir crazy, he was bored out of his mind, he wanted to get out of the hospital and head home. Now.
Josh gestured to the thick books on the nightstand. "What are you reading?"
Sam smiled sheepishly and showed him the cover. The stand, by Stephen King. Josh raised his eyebrows, and he shrugged. "It's big," he explained. "I already read all of Dickens books, and I know The Lord of the rings by heart, it didn't take me four days to read it again."
"When do you begin the Harry Potter books?" Josh asked teasingly. His laughter died in his throat when Sam shot him a guilty look. "Don't tell me you've read them already."
"CJ told me I'd have them when I'm back home. I'll need occupations."
Josh shook his head, remembering his books on physics. "You want the books I - "
"No," Sam said quickly. "I . Hum, physics isn't really my forte."
"Oh. I see. Too bad, it's fascinating. Did you know that theoretically - "
"Josh, did you come here to bore me more than I already am?" Sam asked. "Because President Bartlet came yesterday, and I now know a lot more about wolves than I really needed to know, so ."
They shared a quiet laugh, then stayed silent for a moment.
"I'm sorry," Josh said suddenly, out of the blue, and Sam looked at him in askance. "I . I haven't been that great a friend these past few months, I guess. I should have told you that before, but with everything that had happened ."
Sam sighed. He had wanted to have this conversation for quite some time, but so much had happened recently - the shooting, then the four "stand by weeks", as he called them, and then . all that. He had still planned to bring it up, when the time was right, but if Josh wanted to do this now, he supposed he could allow that. This said, now that his friend had put the question out in the open, he didn't know what to say anymore. He also was very scared to find out that nothing they could do would salvage their relationship at this point. He finally said, "You've been great during . all this."
"After months of being . not so great."
"Josh ." he said, wondering why Josh wanted to do this now.
His friend smiled weakly. "I don't know where to begin." He smiled, obviously trying to diffuse the tension. "Come on, something awful happened, aren't we supposed to, I don't know, re evaluate our relationship, apologize to each other, and all that stuff?"
Sam smiled, to show he appreciated the effort. "I don't know that we're * supposed * to, but we can, sure."
They fell silent again, and Sam said lightly, "You know, it's going to involve talking, eventually."
There was another long silence, and as Josh was about to say something, Sam asked, almost fearfully, "Do you regret bringing me on the campaign?"
If Josh was surprised by the question, he didn't show it. "I . yes, sometimes, I do. Because you've changed, you've become . I don't know, I think, less enthusiastic, less, you. Less young, I guess."
"For crying out - " Sam groaned. "Josh, I didn't become all those things because of you, I * am * older, you know. And who the hell made you my keeper anyway?"
Josh didn't find anything to answer, and Sam went on. "I have the feeling you don't trust me anymore, I think you're feeling guilty, and . are we still friends, Josh?"
"I ." Josh opened his mouth, and closed it again. "I never really thought about it," he finally admitted.
"I did. And I think we're . Josh, you've done things I disapproved of, and I have the feeling our philosophies are a lot more different than they were four years ago. I don't know which one of us changed, and in which direction, and when, but I think if we don't even respect each other anymore - "
"I respect you!" Josh protested. "God, after what you've through - "
"If you respected me, you would have said something about the Hoynes meeting," he said. "You would have yelled at me after the tape, because it was an amateurish mistake. You didn't even think enough of me to do that, did you? I'm not talking about our respective stays in a hospital, Josh. I'm talking about all the rest. Our jobs. Our lives. We've drifted apart."
"How much time did you spend thinking about all this?" Josh wondered.
"I've had time to think," he pointed out, aware that he sounded bitter and not really caring about that. "And hey, I've always had a tendency to over analyze everything."
"So what now?" Josh wondered.
"Was I punished for the way I reacted to the MS thing?"
"Punished?"
"Did you .I don't know how to put this, did you avoid me because I didn't react to the President's disclosure better?"
What he really wanted to know was, "Did you shut me out because you thought I didn't have the right to react the way I did and you were embarrassed to have brought me aboard? " but he didn't dare to ask that. Not yet.
Josh looked horrified now, and his adamant, "No," filled the room. "Sam, it wasn't like that."
"Then why?"
"I don't know!" Josh shouted. "I . we were running a campaign, I was dating Amy - "
"On the first campaign, you were dating Mandy. It didn't stop us from socializing," Sam said mercilessly.
He fleetingly wondered whether he'd follow Josh again if he came seeking him now.
Probably not, he thought.
Sam knew that he had always had a slight case of hero worship toward Josh. When they'd met, he was older, wiser, more experienced in the ways of the political world. He had mentored Sam for a while, and Sam had taken everything Josh said as The Truth. He hadn't questioned Josh's methods, or knowledge, back then, because he wasn't equipped to.
Then they'd moved on with their lives, separately, and when they'd begun to work together again on the campaign, Sam had soon discovered that not everything Josh said was true. Maybe it was because he himself was more experienced - failed or not, his union with Lisa had taught him a few things about life, and about himself and his goals, just like every relationship does, and he had made some experience for himself, and now he could see the errors of Josh's way.
He hadn't said anything back then, but more and more, he could see that Josh and him didn't agree on everything anymore. Or rather, they never had, but now he realized that.
What's more, looking at Josh on the chair next to his bed, Sam now had the feeling that Josh had done pretty much what Lisa had done : he had tried to make Sam fit the image he had of him. He had pictured Sam as the idealist, and he had tried to force him to stay in that role, even after Sam had been more than ready to move on. He still had principles, and he was still willing to fight for them, but most of these principles had little to do with protecting the President now. He wanted to do what was right, no matter what the consequences, just like he had at the beginning. But there was a presidency to consider, and he was less willing to make the concessions than he had been before.
He knew they had to compromise, he knew it was the way politics, and the world at large, worked. Simply, he wondered if they really tried to fight anymore. Weren't they working under the assumption that they would have to tone down what they wanted to accomplish anyway? Was it the reason they so often accepted the compromises?
But that was a debate for another time, Sam reflected.
"I.we disappointed you," Josh said. Sam raised an eyebrow, silently urging him to go on. "I guess . I guess I wanted you as far away from the mess as possible. I knew you were going to get hurt by the President's lies, and by what we were going to have to do, and -"
Sam interrupted him. "Didn't it occur to you that I'd get over it, eventually?"
"At what price?"
"What do you want from me?" Sam exclaimed, sitting up straighter, not paying attention to the resulting flash of pain. "You're acting as if I don't have the right to change, as if I have the stay the youngest one, the idealistic one, forever. I grew up, you know."
"I'm sorry," Josh said. "You've always been, as long as I've known you, you've always been a constant in my life. You're the one who tells me when I'm right, when I'm wrong, and what I should do. I didn't want you to become bitter. I ."
"You didn't want me to change," Sam completed, surprised at his friend's admission.
"No." A small silence, then, "That wasn't very fair to you, was it?"
"No," Sam answered. "And if I may, you've got a strange way to treat your friends. Because you didn't want me to get hurt, you shut me out. What do you think it did to me?"
"I'm the one who came to New York. You could have gotten married. You could have had a life."
And so, Sam thought, his friend had been feeling guilty. And to avoid having to look at his failures, real or not, he had walked away.
"You don't know that," Sam said dryly.
"There was a time when you didn't doubt what I told you," Josh pointed out.
"I didn't know you well," Sam replied. Josh grimaced and he immediately felt awful. "I didn't mean it that way. I meant that not everything you say is right. And there was a time when you admitted that."
Josh smiled slightly. "So I've been told. You turned to Toby."
The non sequitur surprised Sam. "Excuse me?"
"That's when I started wondering what had happened between us. You turned to him after the tape, you turned to him after you were shot. I was surprised that you didn't ask for me."
Sam, at a loss for words, gestured for him to go on.
"I expected you to come to me."
Sam sighed. "I felt bad, I felt depressed and . recently, I mean, before all that, when you didn't look at me with contempt, it was with annoyance. I can guess that you weren't comfortable around me anymore, but ."
Josh was looking down at his feet. "And you thought I would - "
Yes, he had thought that his friend would be judgmental. Maybe he had been wrong, but, "I wasn't willing to take the chance that you would."
Josh nodded. "What now?"
Good question. Their relationship was bound to change - it already had, actually. They had to find out where they stood in each other's lives now.
"There's a game starting in half an hour," Sam said, gesturing to the TV.
They had to start somewhere, he thought.
"Will you turn to me more often?" Josh asked, smiling hopefully.
"Will you stop running away when you see me in a hallway?"
"I'll go grab something to eat."
"Okay." Sam smiled, watching his friend go. "Okay."
Hospital Five days later
Toby made his way to Sam's room. Eight days had passed since Sam had asked him to come. He was better now. The medication had worked, and Sam was slowly getting better.
The first two days had been the hardest. They were waiting to see if the treatment was going to work, Sam had a high fever, and some of the medication they were pumping into him was making him hallucinate. He was delirious half the time, and when he wasn't, he was too weak to talk to them and just stared at the ceiling. Sam didn't seem to remember most of that, though, and Toby supposed it was a good thing.
Then the doctor who had overseen his case since the beginning had told them that the medication seemed to be working, and everyone had breathed again.
Sam was still weak, and he had a long way to go until life got back to normal, but he was feeling a lot better, physically speaking.
Mentally . that was another story entirely. He was depressed (an after affect of some of the medication, but also a reaction to the events of the past two weeks and to the fact that he was now going to have to cope with a fair amount of restriction on his diet, on his lifestyle, and maybe on his work, although the subject hadn't been broached yet), and bitter about the situation.
He entered the room as Sam was hanging up the phone. He could see that his deputy was regaining some of his strength back - and he didn't look on the verge of passing out each time he moved anymore, which was a good sign too.
"Hey, who was it?" he asked, gesturing to the phone.
"My Mom. She wanted to ask if she could come. Again." He sighed a little and settled back on the pillows.
"What did you - "
"The same thing I always do, Toby. I love her, I do, but right now, she . she's not the kind of person who helps you going through a medical emergency. She was more worried than me when I had appendicitis in high school, and it was a walk in the park compared to ."
He trailed off, making a gesture which embraced the room, and Toby nodded.
"They both love you."
"I know. I know, and they mean well, but . the therapist I'm seeing - "
He stopped short and shot a look at Toby, as if to gauge his reaction. Toby kept his face carefully neutral and said, "Your doctor told me it was pretty standard that they recommend someone after that kind of trauma. He already did during your first stay here, if I remember correctly."
Sam smiled wickedly. "Yes. She's good. Anyway, I figured I might as well, you know . vent on someone who isn't my friend, and who I can't hurt, this time around."
"Sam - " Toby began, not wanting to see his friend become all worked up about his past behaviour now.
"It's gonna be though, Toby, and I'd be lying if I told you it didn't scare me. I'm . if I have to scream at someone, I'd rather it not be you anymore."
He blushed slightly, and mumbled something. For a brief moment, Toby debated the pros and cons of making him repeat himself. He decided against it, but . what did Sam want? Maybe a sign that things were going back to normal would be welcome?
"What was that?" he finally asked, sternly.
Just in case.
Sam dropped his eyes on the covers, and said, "After the help you've . well, after everything you've done, I wouldn't want you to think that I'm ungrateful, or something."
"I wouldn't think that. Sam, you were with Josh twenty hours a day when he was shot, did you think he was ungrateful when he snapped at Christmas?"
Sam looked at him, horrified. "Of course n - " He stopped and said "Oh."
"Precisely. Anyway, your therapist ." he began, trying to get the conversation back on tracks.
"She thinks it wouldn't necessarily be a bad idea to think of me first, at least for a while. She says I'm gonna have a hard time adjusting, and I shouldn't think about what the others are feeling before I think about what I'm felling."
"So she basically told you not to pressure yourself into trying to please everyone who wants you to do something?" Toby smiled, and Sam suddenly looked worried so he hastened to add, "She's right. Sam, your altruism is part of the reason we all . appreciate you, but please, don't be generous to the point of causing yourself a nervous breakdown. If you want to see someone, ask. If you don't want to see someone, say so. I mean it, okay."
He nodded, and when he looked up to Toby, some of the old spark was back in his eyes.
"So does it mean I can have my laptop back?" he asked mischievously.
"Very funny, Seaborn. And nicely tried, too," he said gruffly, and the sound of Sam's laughter filled the room, cut by a few "Ow, don't make me laugh, damn it."
* * * * *
Half an hour later, as Toby was beginning to prepare to leave, Sam suddenly asked, "Who was it?"
Suddenly, it seemed important to know that. Who had died? Who had given him his life back?
The question seemed to surprise Toby, who sat back and looked at him. He had enjoyed his boss's visit a lot, and he had had the first real laugh in weeks, but now he needed to know. And he knew Toby would give him the truth.
"Who was what?" his boss asked.
"The donor, Toby," he said, in a tone that made it clear he understood and disapproved of the attempted stalling.
"Oh. it was a twenty year old girl," Toby said softly. "A car accident. She had her donor card on her."
"Car accident, hum," he said quietly.
"Yes."
Sam nodded. "Her name?" he asked hesitantly, but Toby shook his head.
"They won't tell us, Sam. It's better this way. I know you'd like to thank her family ."
Sam nodded - it had been his plan.
"Think, would her mother be happy to meet someone who ."
"I don't know," Sam admitted. "I honestly have no idea."
"Neither do I. Let it be, Sam. Maybe later, but for now ."
"I guess so," he sighed, before saying goodbye to Toby.
* * * * *
Three days later
Josh poked his head in the room.
"Hey buddy. How are you doing?" he asked.
Sam rolled his eyes. "Tired of hearing people asking me how I'm doing," he said.
"Good, sarcasm. You're definitely on the road to recovery, my friend."
"Right," he groaned. He was going stir crazy, he was bored out of his mind, he wanted to get out of the hospital and head home. Now.
Josh gestured to the thick books on the nightstand. "What are you reading?"
Sam smiled sheepishly and showed him the cover. The stand, by Stephen King. Josh raised his eyebrows, and he shrugged. "It's big," he explained. "I already read all of Dickens books, and I know The Lord of the rings by heart, it didn't take me four days to read it again."
"When do you begin the Harry Potter books?" Josh asked teasingly. His laughter died in his throat when Sam shot him a guilty look. "Don't tell me you've read them already."
"CJ told me I'd have them when I'm back home. I'll need occupations."
Josh shook his head, remembering his books on physics. "You want the books I - "
"No," Sam said quickly. "I . Hum, physics isn't really my forte."
"Oh. I see. Too bad, it's fascinating. Did you know that theoretically - "
"Josh, did you come here to bore me more than I already am?" Sam asked. "Because President Bartlet came yesterday, and I now know a lot more about wolves than I really needed to know, so ."
They shared a quiet laugh, then stayed silent for a moment.
"I'm sorry," Josh said suddenly, out of the blue, and Sam looked at him in askance. "I . I haven't been that great a friend these past few months, I guess. I should have told you that before, but with everything that had happened ."
Sam sighed. He had wanted to have this conversation for quite some time, but so much had happened recently - the shooting, then the four "stand by weeks", as he called them, and then . all that. He had still planned to bring it up, when the time was right, but if Josh wanted to do this now, he supposed he could allow that. This said, now that his friend had put the question out in the open, he didn't know what to say anymore. He also was very scared to find out that nothing they could do would salvage their relationship at this point. He finally said, "You've been great during . all this."
"After months of being . not so great."
"Josh ." he said, wondering why Josh wanted to do this now.
His friend smiled weakly. "I don't know where to begin." He smiled, obviously trying to diffuse the tension. "Come on, something awful happened, aren't we supposed to, I don't know, re evaluate our relationship, apologize to each other, and all that stuff?"
Sam smiled, to show he appreciated the effort. "I don't know that we're * supposed * to, but we can, sure."
They fell silent again, and Sam said lightly, "You know, it's going to involve talking, eventually."
There was another long silence, and as Josh was about to say something, Sam asked, almost fearfully, "Do you regret bringing me on the campaign?"
If Josh was surprised by the question, he didn't show it. "I . yes, sometimes, I do. Because you've changed, you've become . I don't know, I think, less enthusiastic, less, you. Less young, I guess."
"For crying out - " Sam groaned. "Josh, I didn't become all those things because of you, I * am * older, you know. And who the hell made you my keeper anyway?"
Josh didn't find anything to answer, and Sam went on. "I have the feeling you don't trust me anymore, I think you're feeling guilty, and . are we still friends, Josh?"
"I ." Josh opened his mouth, and closed it again. "I never really thought about it," he finally admitted.
"I did. And I think we're . Josh, you've done things I disapproved of, and I have the feeling our philosophies are a lot more different than they were four years ago. I don't know which one of us changed, and in which direction, and when, but I think if we don't even respect each other anymore - "
"I respect you!" Josh protested. "God, after what you've through - "
"If you respected me, you would have said something about the Hoynes meeting," he said. "You would have yelled at me after the tape, because it was an amateurish mistake. You didn't even think enough of me to do that, did you? I'm not talking about our respective stays in a hospital, Josh. I'm talking about all the rest. Our jobs. Our lives. We've drifted apart."
"How much time did you spend thinking about all this?" Josh wondered.
"I've had time to think," he pointed out, aware that he sounded bitter and not really caring about that. "And hey, I've always had a tendency to over analyze everything."
"So what now?" Josh wondered.
"Was I punished for the way I reacted to the MS thing?"
"Punished?"
"Did you .I don't know how to put this, did you avoid me because I didn't react to the President's disclosure better?"
What he really wanted to know was, "Did you shut me out because you thought I didn't have the right to react the way I did and you were embarrassed to have brought me aboard? " but he didn't dare to ask that. Not yet.
Josh looked horrified now, and his adamant, "No," filled the room. "Sam, it wasn't like that."
"Then why?"
"I don't know!" Josh shouted. "I . we were running a campaign, I was dating Amy - "
"On the first campaign, you were dating Mandy. It didn't stop us from socializing," Sam said mercilessly.
He fleetingly wondered whether he'd follow Josh again if he came seeking him now.
Probably not, he thought.
Sam knew that he had always had a slight case of hero worship toward Josh. When they'd met, he was older, wiser, more experienced in the ways of the political world. He had mentored Sam for a while, and Sam had taken everything Josh said as The Truth. He hadn't questioned Josh's methods, or knowledge, back then, because he wasn't equipped to.
Then they'd moved on with their lives, separately, and when they'd begun to work together again on the campaign, Sam had soon discovered that not everything Josh said was true. Maybe it was because he himself was more experienced - failed or not, his union with Lisa had taught him a few things about life, and about himself and his goals, just like every relationship does, and he had made some experience for himself, and now he could see the errors of Josh's way.
He hadn't said anything back then, but more and more, he could see that Josh and him didn't agree on everything anymore. Or rather, they never had, but now he realized that.
What's more, looking at Josh on the chair next to his bed, Sam now had the feeling that Josh had done pretty much what Lisa had done : he had tried to make Sam fit the image he had of him. He had pictured Sam as the idealist, and he had tried to force him to stay in that role, even after Sam had been more than ready to move on. He still had principles, and he was still willing to fight for them, but most of these principles had little to do with protecting the President now. He wanted to do what was right, no matter what the consequences, just like he had at the beginning. But there was a presidency to consider, and he was less willing to make the concessions than he had been before.
He knew they had to compromise, he knew it was the way politics, and the world at large, worked. Simply, he wondered if they really tried to fight anymore. Weren't they working under the assumption that they would have to tone down what they wanted to accomplish anyway? Was it the reason they so often accepted the compromises?
But that was a debate for another time, Sam reflected.
"I.we disappointed you," Josh said. Sam raised an eyebrow, silently urging him to go on. "I guess . I guess I wanted you as far away from the mess as possible. I knew you were going to get hurt by the President's lies, and by what we were going to have to do, and -"
Sam interrupted him. "Didn't it occur to you that I'd get over it, eventually?"
"At what price?"
"What do you want from me?" Sam exclaimed, sitting up straighter, not paying attention to the resulting flash of pain. "You're acting as if I don't have the right to change, as if I have the stay the youngest one, the idealistic one, forever. I grew up, you know."
"I'm sorry," Josh said. "You've always been, as long as I've known you, you've always been a constant in my life. You're the one who tells me when I'm right, when I'm wrong, and what I should do. I didn't want you to become bitter. I ."
"You didn't want me to change," Sam completed, surprised at his friend's admission.
"No." A small silence, then, "That wasn't very fair to you, was it?"
"No," Sam answered. "And if I may, you've got a strange way to treat your friends. Because you didn't want me to get hurt, you shut me out. What do you think it did to me?"
"I'm the one who came to New York. You could have gotten married. You could have had a life."
And so, Sam thought, his friend had been feeling guilty. And to avoid having to look at his failures, real or not, he had walked away.
"You don't know that," Sam said dryly.
"There was a time when you didn't doubt what I told you," Josh pointed out.
"I didn't know you well," Sam replied. Josh grimaced and he immediately felt awful. "I didn't mean it that way. I meant that not everything you say is right. And there was a time when you admitted that."
Josh smiled slightly. "So I've been told. You turned to Toby."
The non sequitur surprised Sam. "Excuse me?"
"That's when I started wondering what had happened between us. You turned to him after the tape, you turned to him after you were shot. I was surprised that you didn't ask for me."
Sam, at a loss for words, gestured for him to go on.
"I expected you to come to me."
Sam sighed. "I felt bad, I felt depressed and . recently, I mean, before all that, when you didn't look at me with contempt, it was with annoyance. I can guess that you weren't comfortable around me anymore, but ."
Josh was looking down at his feet. "And you thought I would - "
Yes, he had thought that his friend would be judgmental. Maybe he had been wrong, but, "I wasn't willing to take the chance that you would."
Josh nodded. "What now?"
Good question. Their relationship was bound to change - it already had, actually. They had to find out where they stood in each other's lives now.
"There's a game starting in half an hour," Sam said, gesturing to the TV.
They had to start somewhere, he thought.
"Will you turn to me more often?" Josh asked, smiling hopefully.
"Will you stop running away when you see me in a hallway?"
"I'll go grab something to eat."
"Okay." Sam smiled, watching his friend go. "Okay."
