Title: Staying Strong (Chapter 2)
Author: Canne
A/N: Thanks so much for all of the great feedback following the first
chapter, it's greatly appreciated.
When Josh's phone rings a second time he's sitting in the barren waiting room, staring at the pseudo impressionist prints on the walls. The on duty nurse, her name tag reads Martha, glares at him from her place at the reception desk and gestures pointedly at the no cell phone sign hanging on the wall. Instead of answering the phone Josh glances at the call number and then hits the power button. It feels so wrong, to turn off a cell phone. When was the last time he did that? He can't remember.
"Is there a phone I could use?" Josh asks Nurse Martha, who, despite Josh's compliance with hospital rules, is still glaring at him. As she angrily shoves a phone at him, bitter for some unknown reason, Josh wonders if he should have gone outside and just used his cell phone to make the call, but it's too late now. He thanks Martha and then, angling his body and the phone away from her prying eyes, he dials the number that had appeared on his cell phone. The phone rings only once before it is picked up.
"Hello?" Josh has never been so glad to hear anyone's voice.
"Mom." The word slips past his lips before he has time to censure his tone and emotions. He sounds tired and ragged, even to his own ears. He sounds helpless. He wants to sound confident, brash. He wants to sound normal.
"Joshua, Leo just phoned me. How's Donna? How are you?" Hana Lyman, ever since she met Donna via the telephone during the first campaign has looked upon her as a daughter, something which she frequently reminds Josh of. Like all mothers, Hana's aspirations for Josh's future include a wife, children and far fewer hours spent at the office.
"She, I don't know. They pushed me out of the room an hour and half ago. She had a pulmonary embolism. I...no one's come out yet. No one can tell me anything. I feel so helpless." He doesn't have to say the rest of what he's thinking, what if she doesn't make it?
"Joshua, she'll make it. She has too, who else could take care of you?" He appreciates the sentiment and her attempt at humour, but he can't believe her. Donna's stubborn, but he's not sure the lure of harassing him has the power to bring her back to life. Maybe, if she knew everything else that he could offer her, everything that he's wanted to tell her, maybe then that might be enough. He remembers after Rosslyn, those hazy days, drifting in and out of consciousness, alternately gaining and loosing the will to go on. He remembers Donna, sitting there next to him, through all of it. Through his drugged delusions and the dark, torturous hours between receiving medication she was always there. Guarding him from the demons that sought to steal him from her. Will he even get that chance to guard her like she did him? And, if she even makes it to that point, will he be enough, enough to make her want to live, to survive, to fight?
"Why her?" Josh can feel his anger rising, anger which he has done such a good job of suppressing since his outburst back at the West Wing. His anger at the universe for allowing bad things to happen to good people, his anger at whoever set the bomb in Gaza, and his anger at the President for not reacting more harshly, more quickly. But most of all he's angry at himself. Angry for letting Donna go. Why couldn't he just have taken her to Belgium? Belgium was nice, she would have loved it, and he could have made it happen. Instead, he chose the Middle-fucking-East. Ever since he'd given her her diplomatic passport, god that seemed long ago now, ever since then he'd been scared to death that something would happen to her, and now it had. He should have trusted his gut, should have kept her home, in DC with him where she'd be safe. But he didn't, and now she could be dying.
"I don't know why Joshua, but there's no point in crying over it now. You can't change the past, but you can alter the future. When Donna gets through this, and she will, things are going to change."
"I want things to change." And he does. He has so much that he needs to tell Donna, which, if he can tell her, should change everything between them. But change, he's suddenly realising, is good, especially if it means a future with Donna.
"Well they will." There's a pause between them, not an awkward silence, but an uneasy one. He has nothing to say to her, but he can't hang up on her, she's his mother and even without talking her breathing on the other end of the line reassures him in the way that nothing else, save Donna, could.
Nurse Martha is clearing her throat loudly behind Josh and when he turns around to face her she is pointing finger at the space behind him. Josh turns around in time to see an unconscious but stable Donna, surrounded by the same crowd of nurses as before, being wheeled back into her hospital room. His knees go weak with relief and he sends up a silent prayer to whoever is listening, thanks for giving him a second chance.
"Mom, they just brought Donna back. I have to go."
As he hangs up the phone, fumbling in his haste with placing the receiver in its holder, grumpy Nurse Martha smiles at him for the first time and suddenly, as he rushes to Donna's room, the world doesn't seem as dark as it did five minutes ago.
When Josh's phone rings a second time he's sitting in the barren waiting room, staring at the pseudo impressionist prints on the walls. The on duty nurse, her name tag reads Martha, glares at him from her place at the reception desk and gestures pointedly at the no cell phone sign hanging on the wall. Instead of answering the phone Josh glances at the call number and then hits the power button. It feels so wrong, to turn off a cell phone. When was the last time he did that? He can't remember.
"Is there a phone I could use?" Josh asks Nurse Martha, who, despite Josh's compliance with hospital rules, is still glaring at him. As she angrily shoves a phone at him, bitter for some unknown reason, Josh wonders if he should have gone outside and just used his cell phone to make the call, but it's too late now. He thanks Martha and then, angling his body and the phone away from her prying eyes, he dials the number that had appeared on his cell phone. The phone rings only once before it is picked up.
"Hello?" Josh has never been so glad to hear anyone's voice.
"Mom." The word slips past his lips before he has time to censure his tone and emotions. He sounds tired and ragged, even to his own ears. He sounds helpless. He wants to sound confident, brash. He wants to sound normal.
"Joshua, Leo just phoned me. How's Donna? How are you?" Hana Lyman, ever since she met Donna via the telephone during the first campaign has looked upon her as a daughter, something which she frequently reminds Josh of. Like all mothers, Hana's aspirations for Josh's future include a wife, children and far fewer hours spent at the office.
"She, I don't know. They pushed me out of the room an hour and half ago. She had a pulmonary embolism. I...no one's come out yet. No one can tell me anything. I feel so helpless." He doesn't have to say the rest of what he's thinking, what if she doesn't make it?
"Joshua, she'll make it. She has too, who else could take care of you?" He appreciates the sentiment and her attempt at humour, but he can't believe her. Donna's stubborn, but he's not sure the lure of harassing him has the power to bring her back to life. Maybe, if she knew everything else that he could offer her, everything that he's wanted to tell her, maybe then that might be enough. He remembers after Rosslyn, those hazy days, drifting in and out of consciousness, alternately gaining and loosing the will to go on. He remembers Donna, sitting there next to him, through all of it. Through his drugged delusions and the dark, torturous hours between receiving medication she was always there. Guarding him from the demons that sought to steal him from her. Will he even get that chance to guard her like she did him? And, if she even makes it to that point, will he be enough, enough to make her want to live, to survive, to fight?
"Why her?" Josh can feel his anger rising, anger which he has done such a good job of suppressing since his outburst back at the West Wing. His anger at the universe for allowing bad things to happen to good people, his anger at whoever set the bomb in Gaza, and his anger at the President for not reacting more harshly, more quickly. But most of all he's angry at himself. Angry for letting Donna go. Why couldn't he just have taken her to Belgium? Belgium was nice, she would have loved it, and he could have made it happen. Instead, he chose the Middle-fucking-East. Ever since he'd given her her diplomatic passport, god that seemed long ago now, ever since then he'd been scared to death that something would happen to her, and now it had. He should have trusted his gut, should have kept her home, in DC with him where she'd be safe. But he didn't, and now she could be dying.
"I don't know why Joshua, but there's no point in crying over it now. You can't change the past, but you can alter the future. When Donna gets through this, and she will, things are going to change."
"I want things to change." And he does. He has so much that he needs to tell Donna, which, if he can tell her, should change everything between them. But change, he's suddenly realising, is good, especially if it means a future with Donna.
"Well they will." There's a pause between them, not an awkward silence, but an uneasy one. He has nothing to say to her, but he can't hang up on her, she's his mother and even without talking her breathing on the other end of the line reassures him in the way that nothing else, save Donna, could.
Nurse Martha is clearing her throat loudly behind Josh and when he turns around to face her she is pointing finger at the space behind him. Josh turns around in time to see an unconscious but stable Donna, surrounded by the same crowd of nurses as before, being wheeled back into her hospital room. His knees go weak with relief and he sends up a silent prayer to whoever is listening, thanks for giving him a second chance.
"Mom, they just brought Donna back. I have to go."
As he hangs up the phone, fumbling in his haste with placing the receiver in its holder, grumpy Nurse Martha smiles at him for the first time and suddenly, as he rushes to Donna's room, the world doesn't seem as dark as it did five minutes ago.