Lyman Residence, Washington DC: April 20, 2006
"Shut up!" he screamed, so close to Josh's face drops of spit landed on his chin. "I don't give a fuck who you are, you shut the hell up right now or you're gonna die!" Almost immediately, he felt a horrendous throbbing on the side of his skull and his eyes snapped open.
"Shit," Josh mumbled, staring at the glowing red numbers on the alarm clock. Rubbing his hand over his eyes, he took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down and remind himself that he was in his own bed in his home. He was not kneeling on the cold floor of a convenience store with a gun pointed at his temple, no matter what his fractured subconscious wanted him to believe.
It had been more than a month since that night he'd faced death down again and like the time before that, crippling nightmares, terrifying flashbacks, and panic attacks accompanied it. He was managing it better this time though; thanks to the anti-depressant he'd been taking and continuing to use relaxation techniques, his panic attacks were very few and far between. He wished he could say the same regarding the nightmares and flashbacks.
"Josh?" he heard Donna's voice whisper to him. He didn't answer, just tightened his hold on her. "What time is it?"
"About 1:00am. Go back to sleep."
"Can you sleep?"
"I will."
"Did you have a nightmare?"
"How's your back feeling?"
"Don't do that, Josh."
"What? You need your rest, I want to make sure you're comfortable."
"Are you just avoiding my question or are you really being a thoughtful, attentive husband?"
"Do you really care?"
"Yes so while I drag an answer out of you, please get to work on your massage skills," she replied, rolling over heavily to her side.
Maneuvering an arm under her and around her, her pulled her close as his other hand kneaded the sore flesh of her lower back. "Oh God," she moaned quietly as her muscles resisted him.
"Just relax, Donnatella," he breathed into her ear, keeping up with his ministrations. After a couple of minutes, Donna's soreness started to fade away and she returned to her original task.
"Was it about what happened in the store or Rosslyn?" she asked, idly stroking the arm wrapped around her. She felt him sigh onto her neck.
"How do you know I had a nightmare? Maybe I just couldn't fall asleep."
"Because you had a nightmare and you're afraid if you fall asleep, you'll be having another one."
"Maybe I was having a sex dream about that blonde secretary on that political TV show you like so much."
"No you weren't."
"I could have been having a sex dream about her. Even if I am married to the most striking, intelligent, funny, loving woman in the galaxy."
"Josh, stop trying to charm me into giving into your avoidance. You have to talk about the nightmares. It's the only thing that will help them go away."
"I'll talk about it with someone else," he said, moving his hand up to gently rub her tender hip.
"Why not me?"
"Because you shouldn't have to be pregnant and dealing with your husband's psychological problems at the same time."
"Well according to those vows we swapped, twice now, your problems are also my problems and what does my being pregnant have to do with it?"
"Helen said you need to avoid stress and--"
"Josh," she said turning over again to face him. She waited until her looked at her before continuing, "It worries me more when you shut me out."
"I'm not trying to do that, Donnatella" he protested weakly, glancing down at her seven-months pregnant stomach. "I just don't want the three of you to get hurt again because of me."
'Here we go again,' she thought, trying to keep her annoyance at bay. "It's not your fault I'm on bed rest," she said through gritted teeth. "My body just got more than it could handle at one time and I needed to slow down. But I'm fine now and so are the babies. There was nothing you could have done. Now stop doing this to yourself, it isn't helping anyone. Just talk to me." She watched as he pursed his lips and averted her gaze. "Fine," she huffed angrily, rolling over with some moderate difficulty and flicking on her bedside light.
"What are you doing?" he asked, squinting against the brightness.
"I am knitting things for the babies," she spat out, reaching into the drawer of the end table to retrieve her needles and yarn. She hoisted herself up as best she could against the headboard before she began to furiously manipulate the needles and the yarn of her continuing project.
"You need your rest," Josh tried to reason with her.
"So do you."
"You need it more. What you need to not be doing is knitting a hat."
"For your information, it's a sweater and what I need," she said, stressing the word 'need', "is for you to let me be your wife and help you, which you have not been letting me do for a month now. It makes me angry so I can't sleep and because I can't sleep or move from this bed without the use of a crane, I'm knitting a sweater for one of my daughters."
Seeing the defined tightening of her jaw that left no room for future arguments, Josh shifted onto his back, staring blindly at the ceiling as he listened to the frenetic clicking of Donna's needles. Shutting her out like this wasn't fair to her, he knew that, but he was doing it to protect her and protect the twins. He recalled with perfect clarity Helen's words, urging him to do his best to limit the amount of stress in Donna's life and he remembered exactly how worried and tired Donna was during his initial bout with PTSD. If he opened up to her like that, let down his guard like that, it would automatically put her in the position of caring for him when what she needed to focus on was caring for the babies. No matter how much he needed her comfort right now. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and tried to shove away the lingering images of his nightmare so he could get in a couple hours sleep before his hectic life started all over again.
"Oww!" Donna exclaimed next to him. Instantly, Josh's adrenaline kicked in and any hope of sleep vanished.
"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked franticly, sitting up and looking her over for any signs of pain or discomfort.
She eyed him warily, still feeling rather pissy towards him but not wanting to add to his troubled mind. "Nothing," she mumbled, going back to her knitting. "Audrey just kicked my ribs without any warning, that's all."
"Are you sure? Maybe it was a contraction or something and you're in labor as we speak."
"Having been in labor twice already now, take my word for it that I know what it feels like when I'm in it," she told him, concentrating on a particular pattern. "I also am able to distinguish between a baby kicking the inside of me and any other type of pain. This was just the baby kicking so go to sleep."
Relaxing ever so slightly, Josh began to ask his wife, "Is there anything that I can do for you or--"
"Go to sleep, Josh," she repeated, cutting him off.
Unwilling to attempt slumber again, he tried, "How do you know which one of them is which when they're kicking?"
"Go. To. Sleep," she ordered, never looking up from her work.
Not moving, Josh swallowed quickly as he realized that piercing ache of fear in the pit of his stomach wasn't going away. Whenever Donna was in any type of pain, he felt the sensation strongly to compensate for the helplessness that also came when something was wrong with Donna. He hated feeling it and a part of him hated her for making him feel it. As soon as the thought registered, he knew why Donna was being the way she was. This was what she was feeling, had been feeling everyday since that night. She wanted him to talk to begin the healing process for himself, of course, but she needed it for herself too, to heal herself so she could focus on other things. Like their unborn children, for example.
"They came in the store right after I walked in," Josh said slowly, replaying it in his mind as the words came out. Donna immediately stopped what she was doing and gazed at him. "I didn't see them or anything. I didn't even know anything was wrong until I...I hea...heard it go off," he struggled to get out.
Gently laying her hand over his and needing to hear in his own words what had happened to her husband, Donna decided to give him some incentive to continue. "Audrey only kicks me on my right side," she informed him softly, hoping he'd understand. "And I'm carrying Lexi higher up. That's how I know who is who in there."
Not looking at her but lacing his fingers through hers, Josh continued, "I guess I passed out or something for a minute because the next I knew, I saw everyone kind of huddled in one corner and one of them was grabbing my collar, trying to drag me over there. I thought about fighting him but I saw how scared everyone already was and I didn't want to get him angry. The younger one was real nervous but him, the older one, that guy was pissed off something lethal."
"Lexi likes to hear fairy tales more than she likes lullabies," Donna said, hoping he hadn't noticed how her throat had started to constrict just slightly. "Audrey really likes to hear those Dr. Seuss stories Emma reads to them sometimes."
"For the next hour, the two of them were just kind of arguing back and forth. The younger one wanted to just try escaping through a back alleyway and the older one thought they should kill a hostage to show the cops they were serious. I guess they were trying to get money or some shit like that."
"I think Audrey is going to be a classical musician because she always relaxes whenever I play Mozart or Beethoven. Lexi loves when I play 'Exile on Main Street' in the belly phones."
"We were in there almost two hours before they started talking to the police. They put on a television to see if they were being mentioned on the news and one of the programs mentioned me..." Josh trailed off, staring intently at the comforter, unconsciously touching the fading scar near his temple. "The older one came right up to me and pistol whipped me on the forehead for not telling them sooner who I was."
"Whenever you're on TV, they always kick when you start speaking. They already know who you are," Donna whispered, not letting a single tear fall even though she wanted desperately to.
"He asked me if I was willing to die," Josh said stoically, not blinking or moving as he spoke. "If I was willing to sacrifice my life for everyone else in the room and I...I couldn't do it. I couldn't do anything but see you and the kids in my mind's eye. I thought about never getting to hold Emma or Natalie again, about never getting to meet the twins, about never being able to make love to you again and I just...froze. I was completely and absolutely paralyzed with the fear that I'd never get to see any of you again."
"I kept telling both of them that night how much you already loved them," Donna told him, pulling his prone body close to her and rocking him to try to assure him that everything was all right now and that he'd never have to imagine something as horrible as that ever again. "I tried to explain how wonderful their Daddy is and all the things you'd do for them. I told them how they shouldn't worry because Daddy was coming back to them and then how they should worry because Daddy was never going to let them out of his sight."
"The cops just ended up storming into the place. The younger one surrendered but the other one tried to run. He ended up getting hit by a car on the street and was killed instantly."
"Good," Donna breathed fiercely into his scalp, rubbing his shoulders.
"He's the one I always see in my dreams, holding the gun over my head and telling me that he's gonna kill me." He shivered slightly in her embrace. "The nightmares are actually worse this time because I have a face now. Last time I never saw the guys holding the gun but this time...it feels like he's everywhere. Even though he's already dead, I feel like I'm looking over my shoulder all the time just to make sure he isn't there."
"You've got to talk to someone, Josh," she instructed him soothingly. "You know that, right?"
"Yeah I know that I do," he sighed, pulling away from her and leaning against the headboard.
"So why don't you just call Stanley?" she asked, curling back against his chest to listen to his heartbeat. "Why are you putting yourself through all this when you don't even have to?"
"It would look bad," he rationalized. "Everyone on the Hill knows about how I was after Roslyn and most of them probably know I'm taking anti- depressants. If I'm seen talking to a shrink again right now, it sends a message."
"What, that you're being proactive about your health so not to give yourself a nervous breakdown?"
"That I'm inherently psychologically damaged and unfit for public office." He looked down into her eyes so she'd understand his seriousness. "I can't lose this, Donna; I won't lose this. For so many years I advised and instructed and offered suggestions and I was okay with it. I was okay with helping the guy get the job done. I was okay with someone else getting the credit for my work and not having things go my way every time and just looking on as someone else shook hands with crowds of grateful citizens. But now it's me that people thank. I'm the one that gets them money for new classroom equipment or higher unemployment benefits or helps keeps them out of a war and I'm not willing to give any of that up. I'm the guy now and I love it."
"I know you do."
"And you also know what a good number of my fellow Congressmen would do with certain information of mine if given the opportunity," he said, daring her to contradict him.
"Yes I do," she nodded wearily. He was looking at this as a political problem and as smart as she was, she could never beat him at a political argument if his mind was made up. So she'd have to do as he'd once taught her and fight a little dirty for the common good.
"What are you doing?" he asked as she slowly heaved herself off the bed, balancing off the nightstand.
"Come with me," she grunted as she just barely got herself upright.
"You're supposed to stay in bed," he challenged angrily as he raced around to face his wife, prepared to physically force her into the bed if need be.
"Josh, I'm fine and the babies are fine. Helen said after four weeks if I didn't have any more problems that I could get up and around and tomorrow will be week five. I've done that to appease your addled mind but now you're being an ass again for a wholly different reason so in order to set you straight, I need to be out of bed." Finishing her lecture, she took his hand and quietly led him into the hallway.
"What do you mean, set me straight?" he whispered to her as they stopped in a doorway to one of the rooms.
"I meant that as good of man as you are, Joshua, you can be frighteningly stupid sometimes, this being one of them," she replied, twisting the knob and letting the door gently swing open.
"Donna," he groaned as he saw what door exactly she had opened.
The walls of the nursery were freshly painted lavender, still smelling slightly even after several months. When they'd found out the twins were both girls, Donna had gone straight to paint store and selected the color, making Josh paint the entire room that very night. This being her third pregnancy, Donna had vetoed a baby shower so the nursery was already fully furnished and decorated. Matching cribs were in the middle of the room, filled with identical bedding and stuffed animals. In a show of her freakish organization fetish, as Josh saw it anyways, she had hired a contractor to come in and design a changing station as opposed to just a table. It was complete with a sink, shelf storage space, and even a trash chute that connected down to the kitchen. The rocking chair faced the huge bay window, which looked out over the bright lights of the Capitol. Everything in the room was in perfect place; the only thing it had left to do was wait in anticipation for the joy and chaos it's newest occupants would bring with them.
Donna let go of him to flick on the lights and lumbered over to the rocking chair, lowering herself into it.
"I know what you're trying to do," Josh said from the doorway.
"Really?" she replied, rocking back and forth slowly.
"You're trying to tell me that no matter what happens professionally, I'll always have my family," he said, going towards her. He didn't go to her but rather leaned against the window across from her. "That even if the Republicans are in power for fifty more years, making my life an eternal Hell, my family will always be with me to make it a little easier and I appreciate that but reality is if I disclose my condition, it's a death sentence politically--"
"You're such an ass, Josh," she interrupted, smiling slightly.
"Beg your pardon?"
"I said you're an ass. First of all, where do you get off thinking you can talk to me like I'm just some freshman Congressional wife from Podunk who accepts whatever you tell her because I understand nothing about how this town works? I understand the risk you take politically when you see a therapist but truthfully, I don't really give a damn. That's because in terms of my priorities, your political career comes a very, very distant second to this family." She rubbed her stomach in nurturing circles, sighing softly. "I realized something when I left you and that is that as much as I know how deeply you love politics and as much as you need me for it, I can't let it dictate our decisions for the kids and the fact is you need help if you want to continue to be as wonderful of a father as you are."
Her words chilled him down to the marrow. "What the hell do you mean? Are you saying you'll leave me with the girls if I don't talk to a professional?" Josh asked her in disbelief.
"Are you saying you want Emma to find you with a bloody hand near a broken window?" That sentence and the mental image that came with it, spun around in his head with dizzying speed. He shrank down to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest, as the thought of his daughter being harmed by his demons caused a fresh wave of self-loathing and berating for his own selfishness.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, not even looking at her.
"I know," she replied, reaching out to stroke his curls, "and it would kill me to have to do that so please don't make me."
"I'll call him first thing in the morning. Maybe he can give me the name of a guy out here."
"It'll be all right," she assured him.
He smirked at that one. As intelligent as she was, she still possessed a certain naiveté about politics. It wasn't her fault really; he had just been in this business longer than she and seen so much more. "Probably not but I'm going do it anyways."
"Josh..."
"One summer when I was interning for Brennan in college," he began to explain, "there was an assistant Cabinet member who let it become public that he attended therapy to cope with his divorce. A year later a Congressman let it slip that he saw a shrink after his brother died next to him. You know who they are?"
"No."
"No you don't because both of them got run out of town being called crazies and lunatics. So forgive me for not being overjoyed at the prospect of this kind of public battle."
"Assuming there's a battle at all," Donna suggested. "You're one of the most popular Senators to the public. How well do you think they'll react to those who try to attack you for recognizing that you need help dealing with an extraordinarily difficult situation? Plus do really believe that Toby isn't going to decimate anyone who goes after you? Or that Gus will or Bobby will or that I will?" She pulled his face up to hers, cupping his cheek. "You've got to trust us enough to let us fight for you just like you'd fight for anyone you loved."
He smiled at her, kissing the palm of her hand before he leaned into her stomach. "You two have no idea how fortunate you are to have this woman for your mom," he told them.
She grinned as they started kicking their agreement. "Oh they know," she said, putting his hand on her stomach. The two of them just sat there like that for a while, delighting in the nocturnal activities of their unborn children, and before they realized it the first rays of sunlight peaked into the window.
"Look at that," he said around a yawn.
"What?"
"It's one more day," he clarified.
"Yeah..." she drawled as she motioned for him to help her up. "One more day of what exactly?"
"One more day that we're closer to meeting our new kids," he said, turning her to face the sunrise, resting a hand on her stomach. "One more day that I can do good things for this country. One more day that you can help the people who write to your column. One more day that Emma gets smarter. One more day that Natalie gets bigger. One more day where Toby doesn't attempt to kill Congress. One more day where you sister tries to beautify the world. One more day where our friends keep being our friends. But most importantly, it's one more day where I fall in love with you even more."
"Mmmm," she sighed, leaning back against him. "I like those days."
"Good," he muttered into her shoulder. "Because they happen to be every single day."
"Shut up!" he screamed, so close to Josh's face drops of spit landed on his chin. "I don't give a fuck who you are, you shut the hell up right now or you're gonna die!" Almost immediately, he felt a horrendous throbbing on the side of his skull and his eyes snapped open.
"Shit," Josh mumbled, staring at the glowing red numbers on the alarm clock. Rubbing his hand over his eyes, he took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down and remind himself that he was in his own bed in his home. He was not kneeling on the cold floor of a convenience store with a gun pointed at his temple, no matter what his fractured subconscious wanted him to believe.
It had been more than a month since that night he'd faced death down again and like the time before that, crippling nightmares, terrifying flashbacks, and panic attacks accompanied it. He was managing it better this time though; thanks to the anti-depressant he'd been taking and continuing to use relaxation techniques, his panic attacks were very few and far between. He wished he could say the same regarding the nightmares and flashbacks.
"Josh?" he heard Donna's voice whisper to him. He didn't answer, just tightened his hold on her. "What time is it?"
"About 1:00am. Go back to sleep."
"Can you sleep?"
"I will."
"Did you have a nightmare?"
"How's your back feeling?"
"Don't do that, Josh."
"What? You need your rest, I want to make sure you're comfortable."
"Are you just avoiding my question or are you really being a thoughtful, attentive husband?"
"Do you really care?"
"Yes so while I drag an answer out of you, please get to work on your massage skills," she replied, rolling over heavily to her side.
Maneuvering an arm under her and around her, her pulled her close as his other hand kneaded the sore flesh of her lower back. "Oh God," she moaned quietly as her muscles resisted him.
"Just relax, Donnatella," he breathed into her ear, keeping up with his ministrations. After a couple of minutes, Donna's soreness started to fade away and she returned to her original task.
"Was it about what happened in the store or Rosslyn?" she asked, idly stroking the arm wrapped around her. She felt him sigh onto her neck.
"How do you know I had a nightmare? Maybe I just couldn't fall asleep."
"Because you had a nightmare and you're afraid if you fall asleep, you'll be having another one."
"Maybe I was having a sex dream about that blonde secretary on that political TV show you like so much."
"No you weren't."
"I could have been having a sex dream about her. Even if I am married to the most striking, intelligent, funny, loving woman in the galaxy."
"Josh, stop trying to charm me into giving into your avoidance. You have to talk about the nightmares. It's the only thing that will help them go away."
"I'll talk about it with someone else," he said, moving his hand up to gently rub her tender hip.
"Why not me?"
"Because you shouldn't have to be pregnant and dealing with your husband's psychological problems at the same time."
"Well according to those vows we swapped, twice now, your problems are also my problems and what does my being pregnant have to do with it?"
"Helen said you need to avoid stress and--"
"Josh," she said turning over again to face him. She waited until her looked at her before continuing, "It worries me more when you shut me out."
"I'm not trying to do that, Donnatella" he protested weakly, glancing down at her seven-months pregnant stomach. "I just don't want the three of you to get hurt again because of me."
'Here we go again,' she thought, trying to keep her annoyance at bay. "It's not your fault I'm on bed rest," she said through gritted teeth. "My body just got more than it could handle at one time and I needed to slow down. But I'm fine now and so are the babies. There was nothing you could have done. Now stop doing this to yourself, it isn't helping anyone. Just talk to me." She watched as he pursed his lips and averted her gaze. "Fine," she huffed angrily, rolling over with some moderate difficulty and flicking on her bedside light.
"What are you doing?" he asked, squinting against the brightness.
"I am knitting things for the babies," she spat out, reaching into the drawer of the end table to retrieve her needles and yarn. She hoisted herself up as best she could against the headboard before she began to furiously manipulate the needles and the yarn of her continuing project.
"You need your rest," Josh tried to reason with her.
"So do you."
"You need it more. What you need to not be doing is knitting a hat."
"For your information, it's a sweater and what I need," she said, stressing the word 'need', "is for you to let me be your wife and help you, which you have not been letting me do for a month now. It makes me angry so I can't sleep and because I can't sleep or move from this bed without the use of a crane, I'm knitting a sweater for one of my daughters."
Seeing the defined tightening of her jaw that left no room for future arguments, Josh shifted onto his back, staring blindly at the ceiling as he listened to the frenetic clicking of Donna's needles. Shutting her out like this wasn't fair to her, he knew that, but he was doing it to protect her and protect the twins. He recalled with perfect clarity Helen's words, urging him to do his best to limit the amount of stress in Donna's life and he remembered exactly how worried and tired Donna was during his initial bout with PTSD. If he opened up to her like that, let down his guard like that, it would automatically put her in the position of caring for him when what she needed to focus on was caring for the babies. No matter how much he needed her comfort right now. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and tried to shove away the lingering images of his nightmare so he could get in a couple hours sleep before his hectic life started all over again.
"Oww!" Donna exclaimed next to him. Instantly, Josh's adrenaline kicked in and any hope of sleep vanished.
"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked franticly, sitting up and looking her over for any signs of pain or discomfort.
She eyed him warily, still feeling rather pissy towards him but not wanting to add to his troubled mind. "Nothing," she mumbled, going back to her knitting. "Audrey just kicked my ribs without any warning, that's all."
"Are you sure? Maybe it was a contraction or something and you're in labor as we speak."
"Having been in labor twice already now, take my word for it that I know what it feels like when I'm in it," she told him, concentrating on a particular pattern. "I also am able to distinguish between a baby kicking the inside of me and any other type of pain. This was just the baby kicking so go to sleep."
Relaxing ever so slightly, Josh began to ask his wife, "Is there anything that I can do for you or--"
"Go to sleep, Josh," she repeated, cutting him off.
Unwilling to attempt slumber again, he tried, "How do you know which one of them is which when they're kicking?"
"Go. To. Sleep," she ordered, never looking up from her work.
Not moving, Josh swallowed quickly as he realized that piercing ache of fear in the pit of his stomach wasn't going away. Whenever Donna was in any type of pain, he felt the sensation strongly to compensate for the helplessness that also came when something was wrong with Donna. He hated feeling it and a part of him hated her for making him feel it. As soon as the thought registered, he knew why Donna was being the way she was. This was what she was feeling, had been feeling everyday since that night. She wanted him to talk to begin the healing process for himself, of course, but she needed it for herself too, to heal herself so she could focus on other things. Like their unborn children, for example.
"They came in the store right after I walked in," Josh said slowly, replaying it in his mind as the words came out. Donna immediately stopped what she was doing and gazed at him. "I didn't see them or anything. I didn't even know anything was wrong until I...I hea...heard it go off," he struggled to get out.
Gently laying her hand over his and needing to hear in his own words what had happened to her husband, Donna decided to give him some incentive to continue. "Audrey only kicks me on my right side," she informed him softly, hoping he'd understand. "And I'm carrying Lexi higher up. That's how I know who is who in there."
Not looking at her but lacing his fingers through hers, Josh continued, "I guess I passed out or something for a minute because the next I knew, I saw everyone kind of huddled in one corner and one of them was grabbing my collar, trying to drag me over there. I thought about fighting him but I saw how scared everyone already was and I didn't want to get him angry. The younger one was real nervous but him, the older one, that guy was pissed off something lethal."
"Lexi likes to hear fairy tales more than she likes lullabies," Donna said, hoping he hadn't noticed how her throat had started to constrict just slightly. "Audrey really likes to hear those Dr. Seuss stories Emma reads to them sometimes."
"For the next hour, the two of them were just kind of arguing back and forth. The younger one wanted to just try escaping through a back alleyway and the older one thought they should kill a hostage to show the cops they were serious. I guess they were trying to get money or some shit like that."
"I think Audrey is going to be a classical musician because she always relaxes whenever I play Mozart or Beethoven. Lexi loves when I play 'Exile on Main Street' in the belly phones."
"We were in there almost two hours before they started talking to the police. They put on a television to see if they were being mentioned on the news and one of the programs mentioned me..." Josh trailed off, staring intently at the comforter, unconsciously touching the fading scar near his temple. "The older one came right up to me and pistol whipped me on the forehead for not telling them sooner who I was."
"Whenever you're on TV, they always kick when you start speaking. They already know who you are," Donna whispered, not letting a single tear fall even though she wanted desperately to.
"He asked me if I was willing to die," Josh said stoically, not blinking or moving as he spoke. "If I was willing to sacrifice my life for everyone else in the room and I...I couldn't do it. I couldn't do anything but see you and the kids in my mind's eye. I thought about never getting to hold Emma or Natalie again, about never getting to meet the twins, about never being able to make love to you again and I just...froze. I was completely and absolutely paralyzed with the fear that I'd never get to see any of you again."
"I kept telling both of them that night how much you already loved them," Donna told him, pulling his prone body close to her and rocking him to try to assure him that everything was all right now and that he'd never have to imagine something as horrible as that ever again. "I tried to explain how wonderful their Daddy is and all the things you'd do for them. I told them how they shouldn't worry because Daddy was coming back to them and then how they should worry because Daddy was never going to let them out of his sight."
"The cops just ended up storming into the place. The younger one surrendered but the other one tried to run. He ended up getting hit by a car on the street and was killed instantly."
"Good," Donna breathed fiercely into his scalp, rubbing his shoulders.
"He's the one I always see in my dreams, holding the gun over my head and telling me that he's gonna kill me." He shivered slightly in her embrace. "The nightmares are actually worse this time because I have a face now. Last time I never saw the guys holding the gun but this time...it feels like he's everywhere. Even though he's already dead, I feel like I'm looking over my shoulder all the time just to make sure he isn't there."
"You've got to talk to someone, Josh," she instructed him soothingly. "You know that, right?"
"Yeah I know that I do," he sighed, pulling away from her and leaning against the headboard.
"So why don't you just call Stanley?" she asked, curling back against his chest to listen to his heartbeat. "Why are you putting yourself through all this when you don't even have to?"
"It would look bad," he rationalized. "Everyone on the Hill knows about how I was after Roslyn and most of them probably know I'm taking anti- depressants. If I'm seen talking to a shrink again right now, it sends a message."
"What, that you're being proactive about your health so not to give yourself a nervous breakdown?"
"That I'm inherently psychologically damaged and unfit for public office." He looked down into her eyes so she'd understand his seriousness. "I can't lose this, Donna; I won't lose this. For so many years I advised and instructed and offered suggestions and I was okay with it. I was okay with helping the guy get the job done. I was okay with someone else getting the credit for my work and not having things go my way every time and just looking on as someone else shook hands with crowds of grateful citizens. But now it's me that people thank. I'm the one that gets them money for new classroom equipment or higher unemployment benefits or helps keeps them out of a war and I'm not willing to give any of that up. I'm the guy now and I love it."
"I know you do."
"And you also know what a good number of my fellow Congressmen would do with certain information of mine if given the opportunity," he said, daring her to contradict him.
"Yes I do," she nodded wearily. He was looking at this as a political problem and as smart as she was, she could never beat him at a political argument if his mind was made up. So she'd have to do as he'd once taught her and fight a little dirty for the common good.
"What are you doing?" he asked as she slowly heaved herself off the bed, balancing off the nightstand.
"Come with me," she grunted as she just barely got herself upright.
"You're supposed to stay in bed," he challenged angrily as he raced around to face his wife, prepared to physically force her into the bed if need be.
"Josh, I'm fine and the babies are fine. Helen said after four weeks if I didn't have any more problems that I could get up and around and tomorrow will be week five. I've done that to appease your addled mind but now you're being an ass again for a wholly different reason so in order to set you straight, I need to be out of bed." Finishing her lecture, she took his hand and quietly led him into the hallway.
"What do you mean, set me straight?" he whispered to her as they stopped in a doorway to one of the rooms.
"I meant that as good of man as you are, Joshua, you can be frighteningly stupid sometimes, this being one of them," she replied, twisting the knob and letting the door gently swing open.
"Donna," he groaned as he saw what door exactly she had opened.
The walls of the nursery were freshly painted lavender, still smelling slightly even after several months. When they'd found out the twins were both girls, Donna had gone straight to paint store and selected the color, making Josh paint the entire room that very night. This being her third pregnancy, Donna had vetoed a baby shower so the nursery was already fully furnished and decorated. Matching cribs were in the middle of the room, filled with identical bedding and stuffed animals. In a show of her freakish organization fetish, as Josh saw it anyways, she had hired a contractor to come in and design a changing station as opposed to just a table. It was complete with a sink, shelf storage space, and even a trash chute that connected down to the kitchen. The rocking chair faced the huge bay window, which looked out over the bright lights of the Capitol. Everything in the room was in perfect place; the only thing it had left to do was wait in anticipation for the joy and chaos it's newest occupants would bring with them.
Donna let go of him to flick on the lights and lumbered over to the rocking chair, lowering herself into it.
"I know what you're trying to do," Josh said from the doorway.
"Really?" she replied, rocking back and forth slowly.
"You're trying to tell me that no matter what happens professionally, I'll always have my family," he said, going towards her. He didn't go to her but rather leaned against the window across from her. "That even if the Republicans are in power for fifty more years, making my life an eternal Hell, my family will always be with me to make it a little easier and I appreciate that but reality is if I disclose my condition, it's a death sentence politically--"
"You're such an ass, Josh," she interrupted, smiling slightly.
"Beg your pardon?"
"I said you're an ass. First of all, where do you get off thinking you can talk to me like I'm just some freshman Congressional wife from Podunk who accepts whatever you tell her because I understand nothing about how this town works? I understand the risk you take politically when you see a therapist but truthfully, I don't really give a damn. That's because in terms of my priorities, your political career comes a very, very distant second to this family." She rubbed her stomach in nurturing circles, sighing softly. "I realized something when I left you and that is that as much as I know how deeply you love politics and as much as you need me for it, I can't let it dictate our decisions for the kids and the fact is you need help if you want to continue to be as wonderful of a father as you are."
Her words chilled him down to the marrow. "What the hell do you mean? Are you saying you'll leave me with the girls if I don't talk to a professional?" Josh asked her in disbelief.
"Are you saying you want Emma to find you with a bloody hand near a broken window?" That sentence and the mental image that came with it, spun around in his head with dizzying speed. He shrank down to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest, as the thought of his daughter being harmed by his demons caused a fresh wave of self-loathing and berating for his own selfishness.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, not even looking at her.
"I know," she replied, reaching out to stroke his curls, "and it would kill me to have to do that so please don't make me."
"I'll call him first thing in the morning. Maybe he can give me the name of a guy out here."
"It'll be all right," she assured him.
He smirked at that one. As intelligent as she was, she still possessed a certain naiveté about politics. It wasn't her fault really; he had just been in this business longer than she and seen so much more. "Probably not but I'm going do it anyways."
"Josh..."
"One summer when I was interning for Brennan in college," he began to explain, "there was an assistant Cabinet member who let it become public that he attended therapy to cope with his divorce. A year later a Congressman let it slip that he saw a shrink after his brother died next to him. You know who they are?"
"No."
"No you don't because both of them got run out of town being called crazies and lunatics. So forgive me for not being overjoyed at the prospect of this kind of public battle."
"Assuming there's a battle at all," Donna suggested. "You're one of the most popular Senators to the public. How well do you think they'll react to those who try to attack you for recognizing that you need help dealing with an extraordinarily difficult situation? Plus do really believe that Toby isn't going to decimate anyone who goes after you? Or that Gus will or Bobby will or that I will?" She pulled his face up to hers, cupping his cheek. "You've got to trust us enough to let us fight for you just like you'd fight for anyone you loved."
He smiled at her, kissing the palm of her hand before he leaned into her stomach. "You two have no idea how fortunate you are to have this woman for your mom," he told them.
She grinned as they started kicking their agreement. "Oh they know," she said, putting his hand on her stomach. The two of them just sat there like that for a while, delighting in the nocturnal activities of their unborn children, and before they realized it the first rays of sunlight peaked into the window.
"Look at that," he said around a yawn.
"What?"
"It's one more day," he clarified.
"Yeah..." she drawled as she motioned for him to help her up. "One more day of what exactly?"
"One more day that we're closer to meeting our new kids," he said, turning her to face the sunrise, resting a hand on her stomach. "One more day that I can do good things for this country. One more day that you can help the people who write to your column. One more day that Emma gets smarter. One more day that Natalie gets bigger. One more day where Toby doesn't attempt to kill Congress. One more day where you sister tries to beautify the world. One more day where our friends keep being our friends. But most importantly, it's one more day where I fall in love with you even more."
"Mmmm," she sighed, leaning back against him. "I like those days."
"Good," he muttered into her shoulder. "Because they happen to be every single day."