Title: Four Nights
Author: Willow
Summary: Josh has been home from hospital for two weeks and he's not a well as he says he is.
Spoilers/Episode: Up to season 2, Midterms.
Characters: Ensemble
Rating: PG
Part II - Monday Night
Josh walked out of his bedroom and watched Sam tidy the magazines and papers in the living room. "You'll make someone a great wife you know that," he smiled.
"Hey. I didn't wake you did I?" Sam asked and Josh shook his head. "You know, Josh, if you put things away after you've used them then you'll always know where to find them."
"Okay," Josh replied indulgently. "Something smells good."
"Are you hungry?" Sam asked. Josh's appetite had been virtually non existent since he was shot.
"Starving, my appetite seems to have returned with a vengeance. What we having?"
"Pasta," Sam replied. "It was either that or baked potatoes."
"You want me to...."
"Sit down," Sam interrupted, "it should be done." He went into the kitchen and Josh sat down in a chair and turned the TV to C-Span. "Turn that off," Sam called from the kitchen. Josh sighed and flicked channels for a while, eventually settling on Star Trek Voyager. Sam carried in two plates of pasta and they sat and eat in silence while watching Captain Janeway trying to negotiate safe passage through Borg space. It appeared to be Star Trek night, because next was Star Trek First Contact. Josh lasted until Data was captured by the Borg Queen, but he was fading fast. "Go to bed," Sam told him.
"But then I'll never know whether they successfully return the timeline back to normal," he smiled.
"I think we can assume they will," Sam grinned.
"Yeah," Josh agreed. He stood slowly and went to bed. "Night."
Sam washed the dishes and then sat down in front of the TV with some papers he brought with him. At around 2.30 he saw the light come on in Josh's room. He waited to see if Josh came out, when he didn't Sam went over and knocked on the door. "You okay?" he asked. When there was no reply he opened the door and looked in. "Josh?" he said, walking to the bed. Josh was breathing heavily, his eyes are closed but the pain was etched on his face. "Josh?" Sam asked, "what's wrong?"
Josh tried to steady his breathing, there were shooting pains in his chest, and breathing so hard wasn't helping. He opened his eyes, "I'm okay," he said quietly.
"You need anything?" Sam asked, trying not to show the panic he was feeling.
"Some painkillers. They're in a bottle in the night stand," Josh replied.
Sam was a little shocked that Josh needed help to get them, but he took the bottle out and handed Josh two and a glass of water. Josh sat up gingerly, closing his eyes again against the pain and took the pills, slumping slowly back down on the bed and trying to take regular breaths like the therapist had taught him. He could sense Sam still hovering, wanting to help. Josh wanted to yell at him to go away and leave him alone to die in peace. But instead he said nothing. "You need anything else?" Sam asked.
"I'll be okay in a minute," Josh replied quietly.
Sam took that as his cue to leave. "Just yell if you want me," he said and left the room. He sat back down and picked up the report he was reading. He couldn't concentrate on the words though, he kept glancing toward the bedroom. He had no idea that Josh was still in so much pain. After half an hour he gave up and went into the kitchen to make a coffee.
"You okay?" Josh asked him from the doorway.
"Me?" Sam asked. "I'm fine. How are you?"
"The painkillers are pretty effective," Josh smiled slightly, "it's just a pity they wear off."
"You want one?" Sam indicated the coffee. Josh shook his head, just the thought of it made him feel sick. "Is it always that bad?" Sam asked.
Josh wasn't about to tell Sam that tonight hadn't been too bad so far. "Nah, I must have lay funny," he lied. "Shouldn't you get some sleep?"
"I'm working."
"It's 3am." Josh said.
"Yeah but the midterms aren't too far off," Sam replied.
Josh needed to sit down before he fell down. He walked into the living room and sat in a chair. "What you working on?"
"I'm not allowed to tell you."
"Secret plans eh?" Josh smiled. "I thought that was my field of expertise."
"It is," Sam smiled back. "This, though, has nothing to do with inflation. Would you believe that we're back on English as the National Language?"
"Yeah I would. So go on. "
"Okay," Sam sighs, "Leo and Donna will kill me, but what do you think?"
"I think Joey was right. Why do you need a law to protect the language of Shakespeare," Josh replied.
"You don't like Shakespeare."
"True," Josh was quiet for a minute. "I don't think we need a National Language, or at least we don't need a Bill passed to dictate what language we speak." Then he smiled, "But if we have to have one, then I'd prefer it to be English."
"'Cos that's the only language you speak?" Sam commented.
"No. But I think the chances of Polish getting the nomination are slim."
Sam wasn't listening though, he was routing through the papers. "Okay, what about this?" he said. "According to the 1990 census there are 329 languages spoken in the US."
"Okay."
"Did you know that if the number of Americans whose English-speaking ability was classified 'not well' or 'not at all' continues to rise as it did between the 1980 and 1990 Census, then by the year 2050 there will be over 21 million people unable to speak English in the United States, that's 5.75 percent of the entire population." Sam looked back his file and then continued. "In 1994, the IRS printed and distributed 500,000 copies of 1040 forms and instruction booklets in Spanish, costing $113,000, and manned an 800-number hotline with Spanish-speakers. Of the half-million forms distributed, only 718 were returned. That makes the cost of each completed form $157."
"So you're arguing that not having a National language is costing money?"
"I'm saying that there are many valid argument that we need a common language."
"Dictating which language immigrants and their children should speak could, in fact should, be considered bigoted and racist."
"But we're all descendants of immigrants," Sam pointed out. "Surely having a national language provides stability."
"Where's this going?"
"When your parents came here, they were expected to learn to speak English?"
"I guess."
"Why should it be different for immigrants today?"
Josh looked at Sam and frowned. "Please tell me you're writing the opposition paper."
"Of course I am. You don't think I'm actually in favor of a National Language do you?"
"Thank God for that," Josh smiled. "I've only been away 5 weeks, I thought we'd completely reversed our policy."
"You know there are some in the Republican party, mainly Senator Baxter, who think that everyone should have to speak English at home."
"How would they enforce that?" Josh asked.
"I don't think they've considered that part," Sam replied. "It always amazes me when kids speak English to their friends and a different language to their family. They make it look like the most natural thing to do."
"I grew up speaking English and Polish," Josh told him. "I'd speak English to my friends, and to my parents most of the time, but I usually spoke Polish to my grandfather. It is natural, it's just what you grow up doing."
"You speak Polish?"
"Yeah," Josh replied.
"You'd have been in trouble if Baxter had his way," Sam smiled.
Part Three.....
NOTE:
The argument about immigrants having to speak English at home was taken from a proposal by a Conservative Member Of Parliament here in the UK. Thankfully he seems to have been ignored. The figures and information used in the English As The National Language discussion are from the Language Policy web site and links from their site.