DISCLAIMER: See chapter 1
A/N: Thanks nattieb and kursk for the reviews! Emmy's are tonight! Go West Wing and Jane Kaczmarek!
My shoulder is wet. I know that that's not what I should be thinking about right now, but... this is a rented tux. I don't want Donna to ruin it or anything.
It's not that I'm not sad, I guess the full scope of what Donna told us hasn't quite hit me yet. It's like when my dad died. The news wasn't exactly tangible until I got to Connecticut to help with the funeral arrangements.
I find it all very eerie to tell the truth. President Bartlet is dead. He was such a great man, so great that he seemed immortal, like one of those Greek gods or something. And now... he was gone.
I pull away from Donna and hold her at arm's length. There are tears and mascara, smearing together into a gooey mess, all down her face. I think that she'd do better to cope with this in a place where there aren't members of the press swarming like bees to a hive. "Why don't you go to the bathroom and clean yourself up? Then you can go back to the White House. I'll get Sam back there as soon as possible."
She looks into my eyes with that searching look that she always gives me when she thinks something is wrong. It's slightly blurred, though, due to her tears. "Josh... do you need to talk to someone? I can get a psychiatrist or someone on the phone."
There she is, always thinking about my welfare over hers. "I'm fine."
"I was just thinking... you know... Josh you should talk to someone. You're not taking this well."
"I'm taking it just fine!"
"You're hiding your feelings. I really think you should talk to someone Josh."
She's thinking about Joanie... and my dad... and my mom... and Rosslyn. I can see it in her eyes. "I'm fine. If I want to talk to someone I will. Just go, all right? And don't talk to the press." She gives me that 'I'm-worried-about-you-Josh' look that burns a hole in my heart before she slowly walks away. I hadn't been thinking about all of the people that I had loved and lost in my life, not until Donna brought it up. Now a pain forms in my stomach as I begin to remember...
"Hey Josh," Joanie said. "Want some popcorn?" Josh nodded his head but didn't look away from the TV. The Brady Bunch was on, and that was his favorite show. Joanie got up off of the couch and went into the kitchen. "It's a privilege that I'm letting you stay up late, you know that?," the thirteen-year-old asked as she started to gather the ingredients to make the popcorn. "If Mom and Dad were here, you'd probably be in bed." Josh tuned her out and continued to watch his show. She began to yell, "Josh! Get out here and help me make this popcorn if you want any for yourself!"
Josh sighed loudly, got up, and stomped into the kitchen. "I wanted to watch that!"
"But you're my little brother and it's your duty to help me." Joanie smirked and ruffled his hair before she continued to make the popcorn.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Get the butter out of the refrigerator." She poured the kernels into the popcorn maker. Josh did as he was told and handed her the butter reluctantly. "Thank you."
"You're not welcome."
"And you're snotty. Maybe I should reconsider letting you stay up late. I could eat all of the popcorn myself."
"No! I want some!"
"I knew you'd see my side sooner or later." Joanie finished putting the ingredients into the popcorn maker, and then turned it on. Instead of doing what it was supposed to, it jumped and then caught fire. Joanie and Josh watched in awe as the fire quickly began to spread from the popcorn maker to the counter tops and wallpaper. A few seconds later, Joanie ran over to the sink to get some water to put out the fire. Josh did what they taught him at school. He ran out of the house as fast as he could and waited near the street.
He bounced from one foot to the other, nervously. Soon Joanie would run out and tell him that it was safe and that the fire was put out, or she would run out to wait with him for the fire trucks to arrive. Josh waited and waited but nothing happened. Should he tell someone? No, Joanie would call the firemen.
Smoke began to issue from the house. Neighbors began to come out to look and gasp. He could see the fire in the windows. It spread. Slowly, the house began to envelop itself in flames. Josh could hear sirens, and a fire truck pulled up to his house. A bunch of firefighters ran inside, into the fire. Where was Joanie? Why wasn't she coming out? His parents came home. They were screaming and crying and trying to talk to him, but Josh couldn't take his eyes off of the house. She wasn't coming out.
I hate thinking about this. I hate it. I've got to stop thinking about it. Ave Maria blares in my ears. It won't get out of my head, no matter what I do.
Sam's about done with his speech. I'm going to have to tell him. His wife needs him right now. I go backstage to wait for him. He steps off of the stage with a huge smile on his face. The part of the speech that I saw had gone well and it must have gotten even better. I hate to be the one that is going to wipe that smile off of his face.
He must notice my somberness because his grin quickly drops as he approaches me. "What's wrong? You look like you've just seen the Grim Reaper." Sam makes a nervous chuckle, not knowing about the irony.
I grab his arm and whisper in his ear, "President Bartlet is dead."
He looks at me in disbelief. "What?"
"Leo called Donna a few minutes ago. She's back at the White House. You've got to quickly greet the people and get back. Don't address the press."
Sam nods numbly and turns to walk back onstage for his curtain call. He smiles and waves as if nothing had happened. Something that I realize that I won't be able to do much longer if I keep reliving my past. I pull out my cell phone and call Stanley Keyworth's number.
