Chapter Eleven
"No Josh, I don't want this!" Sam had stayed quiet for most of the journey. He'd had his eyes closed when Josh had swung off the road that led to his house and hadn't opened them until Josh was pulling up in the hospital's parking lot.
"What you want sort of loses any credibility when you're willing to sit in a bar waiting for someone you want to beat you to a pulp," Josh explained as he unfastened Sam's seatbelt. He got out of the car and seeing that Sam hadn't followed him walked around to his side and opened the door. "Get out!"
The force of Josh's voice made Sam jump and sensing Josh was near to breaking point he slowly climbed out of his seat trying not to let the pain that the movement caused show.
Sam laid on his bed his hands cradling his head as he stared at the ceiling. The bag of medication that the doctor had given him sat on the bedside table. He ran his hand tentatively over his ribs one of which, the doctor had informed him, was broken. He had been sleeping and didn't know if Josh was still in his apartment or not. He heard the low murmur of the television coming from the living room which confirmed that Josh hadn't left then he fell asleep again.
When he woke for the second time it was to a sound that he couldn't place. There was a pattern to it; liquid being poured, a chink of glass and then water running down the sink. He listened as the process was repeated and his eyes snapped opened as he worked out what the sounds where.
Josh didn't notice Sam arrive in the kitchen; he was intent on his work of emptying the collection of bottles that he had found in the apartment.
"Was prohibition reinstated while I was asleep?" Sam asked his voice dangerously low.
Josh dropped the bottle he was holding spilling its contents across the work surface. He recovered his composure quickly though and turned to face Sam. "I've been sitting here while you've been sleeping and I've been trying to figure out what I can do. I went through all sorts of strategies, I even drew a flow chart, and the thing is it all led back to drink, all my plans, all my thoughts all the arrows they all led back to drink. You can't face things so you drink but then you can't see anything, you can't get anything straight because you're drinking. So the answer is pretty simple- remove drink from the equation and then deal with what's left."
"You drew a flow-chart?" Sam's tone was incredulous. "I'm not a campaign. You can't strategize me and I'll tell you something else-"
"Tell me what?" Josh asked as if there was absolutely nothing that Sam could tell him that he didn't already know about the situation.
"I don't need you telling me what's best for me. I don't need Toby and his fumbling sympathy, I don't need Leo's lectures, I don't need Bartlet's drinking trivia and I don't need you!" Sam swayed as the pain in his ribs and the affects of the medication hit him.
"Well what do you need, Sam? A drink, is that what you need? Yeah to hell with it let's have a drink." Josh grabbed one of the bottles that had yet to be emptied, unscrewed the lid, took a swig from it and held it out. "Go ahead, it might be just what you need."
Sam held his hand out and Josh wondered what he would do if Sam took it and started to drink, he didn't have to deal with that though because Sam suddenly swiped at the bottle knocking it out of Josh's hand, hurling it against the fridge. The act seemed to drain Sam of all energy and he slumped against the wall and started to slide down it, his actions in time with the bourbon that still dripped slowly down the fridge.
"I thought it would end if I let him…I was going to say punish me but that sounds-"
"Pervy?" Josh offered as he slumped down next to Sam.
Sam made a noise that was partly a sob and partly a laugh, "Yeah. I thought if someone just agreed with me, you know, didn't try to tell me I was wrong to feel guilty I would be able to, I don't know, start to…" Sam shrugged helplessly.
"Start to move on," Josh supplied. "I've had counseling I know the lingo. You could move on and have-"
"Don't say closure," Sam warned. He let his head fall back against the wall. "God, I need a drink," Sam admitted and admitting that to Josh made the need lessen a little.
Sam woke and again tried to work out if Josh was still there. This time his pondering was made easier by the sound of Josh's voice drifting into his room.
"He's asleep…yeah every last one, well Sam actually emptied the last one but that's another story…a broken rib. Cuts, bruises…he's taken them. I…Toby, he's taken them…yeah I'm going to stay…we'll just take it easy… Why would I need to do that? He's not going to start getting the DTs or anything he's just…alright, I'll phone if that happens…alright…it's fine, we'll be fine…okay…where are you going to be? Okay I'll speak to you later." Josh hung up and having heard sounds of movement from Sam's room went into the kitchen to make some fresh coffee.
Josh was right, Sam was fine. He was fine when they were eating breakfast, he was fine when they were drinking coffee and reading the papers. He was fine as they watched television and when they ordered pizza later in the evening. He went to bed fine and he woke up fine. It wasn't until the early evening of the next day that he began to feel quite not so fine.
They had just finished eating when Josh noticed that Sam had started to look uncomfortable. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I'm just a bit hot aren't you hot?" he asked.
"Yeah," Josh lied. "I'll open a window."
They carried on watching television but neither was really concentrating on the action hero who was struggling valiantly before them.
"Where did you order the pizza from?" Sam suddenly asked.
"I don't know I grabbed one of the menus from the side." Josh thought Sam looked pale now.
"Jesus, I feel really sick," Sam got up and headed for the kitchen. He returned to the room carrying a glass of water and slumped back on the chair.
"That's a stuntman." Josh said of the man dangling from a helicopter. "He didn't do any of the stunts apart from the-" Josh never got to tell Sam what the stunt was as he was interrupted by Sam running to the bathroom. When it became apparent that Sam wasn't going to finish anytime soon, Josh picked up the glass of water and followed him in. He was confronted by a headless Sam frantically trying to remove his tangled sweatshirt. He stopped moving when he felt Josh's hands grab at the material. As soon as he was free Sam lurched towards the toilet bowl again.
"That would have been…unpleasant," Sam muttered as he lay back against the bath.
"Well yeah." Josh agreed.
Josh felt the heat still radiating from the sweatshirt and felt Sam's forehead. "I think you should go lie down."
"I am lying down." Sam was indeed flat-out on the floor and didn't seem inclined to move. "Just let me stay here for a while."
Josh went into the kitchen to phone Toby and told him what was going on.
"I'm coming over," Toby interrupted as soon as Josh began to explain what was happening.
"There's no need. He'll be asleep in a minute, when he's managed to get up off the bathroom floor."
"I'm coming over," Toby repeated and hung up.
When he arrived Josh was making yet another cup of coffee and Sam was asleep.
"How is he?" he asked as he slung his coat over the back of the sofa.
"Sick. Should we call his doctor? I mean this is just normal isn't it."
"I told you if he stopped after weeks of heavy drinking he'd be ill like this. It's not serious he's not going to start hallucinating or anything," Toby assured him.
"Josh, turn the heating up again. It's really cold now."
Toby swung around at the sound of Sam's shaky voice. He stood in the doorway a comforter wrapped around him.
"Go back to bed," Toby ordered and to his surprise Sam immediately turned around and went back to his bedroom. It was another hour before he appeared again. This time he walked over to the sofa and sat down heavily pulling the comforter around him.
"I just had the weirdest dream. I was in the oval office but it was a ship, I could see the ocean outside and the agents were walking on the deck. There was this giant bell where the President's desk is and I was meant to ring it because there was this wave headed towards us. The agents couldn't see it and I couldn't get the bell to sound it was all muffled there was something stopping it." Sam stared at the carpet waiting for the lingering fear to leave. Toby came in from the kitchen and handed Sam a pill and a glass of water. Sam took it gratefully; his head was pounding.
"Do you want anything?" Josh asked sitting down beside Sam. He shook his head in reply and closed his eyes. He had tried hard to control the shivers and was surprised that he was that cold. But as the shivers increased in intensity he realised his whole body was shaking and he couldn't control it. Josh could feel it; he was sitting on the other end of the sofa but he could feel it. Toby could see it but neither of them moved. Sam's body language was clearly telling them to stay away and so that is what they did. Eventually Sam turned around and faced Josh.
"I was thinking if I had a drink I would probably feel better, just one. Like drinking when you're hung over."
"You're a little more than hung over Sam and anyway there isn't any drink," Toby said.
"Well whose damn fault is that?" Sam shouted, glaring at Josh. "You're treating me like I'm some sort of alcoholic."
"You are some sort of alcoholic, you're the sort that is very nearly an alcoholic," Josh reasoned.
"You're a pre-alcoholic," Toby joined in, "an alcoholic-in-waiting."
Sam walked back to his bedroom. The blanket fell to the floor and he left it where it landed. Toby went into the kitchen and started to look through the cupboards as Josh watched him. "What are you looking for?"
"I'm going to fix us something to eat," Toby answered distractedly.
Josh went back into the living room and started to flick through the channels trying to find something he could watch with the volume turned down. Eventually Toby emerged from the kitchen with two stuffed sandwiches. The two men ate and pretended to be absorbed by the football game playing mutely in front of them. After a while Josh looked at his watch and decided Sam had spent long enough holed up in his bedroom. He stood and cleared away the plates so that Toby wouldn't suspect what he was doing and then went straight to Sam's room, ignoring Toby's advice to leave Sam alone for a while longer.
When his eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the room he walked over to the bed and quietly said his name. There was no answer and seeing that Sam was lying on top of the covers Josh debated going back to fetch the blanket. He reached over and laid his hand on his arm trying to discover if he was hot or cold. The temperature became irrelevant as Josh realised Sam was shaking. He shook Sam who started to sit up in response.
"I can't s-stop shaking. This must be what h-happens when quasi-alcoholics s-stop drinking."
"Shut up." They weren't the most comforting words Josh could think of, but then finding himself wrapping his arms around Sam for the second time in as many days wasn't the most uncomforting act either so Josh figured one made up for the other.
"Just so we know, this is right up there with pillow fluffing when it comes to things we will never mention again," Josh clarified.
"I m-might bring it up if y-you…" Sam didn't have the energy to finish his threat. The words trailed off. Occasionally he muttered something unintelligible but Josh just told him to shush. Eventually the shaking ceased and Sam fell asleep. Josh found himself between the headboard and Sam who was sitting almost upright against him. Josh tried to shift but Sam was a dead weight. He un-wrapped his arm from around him and flexed his hand, trying in vain to get the blood to return to it.
He couldn't see the clock so he didn't know how long he had been trapped on Sam's bed when Toby finally entered the room. "I'm going to head off," he explained.
"Thanks for letting me know. I'll just be here, waiting for Sam to wake up. I haven't been able to feel my legs for the past twenty minutes but I'm sure that's nothing to worry about," Josh explained.
"Push him off."
"He's asleep," Josh explained in a whisper even though he and Toby had been speaking at full volume up until then.
"Oh for crying out loud, he's dead to the world." Toby sighed and walked over to the bed. Unceremoniously grabbing Sam's ankles, he proceeded to pull him slowly off Josh and further down the bed. "When he asked for a headache tablet-"
"You gave him a sleeping pill," Josh finished for him. "So I've been lying here in agony and I could have rolled him onto the floor and he wouldn't have woken up."
"You were asleep too," Toby said. He didn't tell Josh that he had checked on Sam twice since Josh had made his escape from the living room. Both times they had been asleep. The first time Sam had been restless but the second time he had checked both men had been still. He watched Josh limping away from the bed flicking his arm in the air as if he could will the feeling back into it. Toby was secretly relieved that Josh had managed to move past his own troubled feelings that Sam's situation had reopened for him. He had worried at first that he had been too hard on Josh but watching the two men sleep he had realised that he had been right. Sam needed Josh to be strong.