Disclaimer: Original West Wingers and all show-associated plot devices not mine. To TPTB: these are great toys, play nicer.

A/N: After a loooooooooong hiatus, here's the final chapter. I had the mother of all blocks on it. Thanks to those who asked about it, and those who took the time to review originally. I know, I know, not all of the pairings made it in here really, and sorry bout that, but I didn't want to force them. Anyone interested in an epilogue of sorts, with stuff about the kids? I'm gonna limit myself to one, I think, if there are enough people interested, and I'll try my best to work everyone in. There comes a point where things won't/shouldn't go any further, though, I think.

Anyway, thanks for everything, guys, y'all have been great, and let me know what you think!

"You sure you don't wanna come with me?"

I look at my wife, the silvery hair, the laugh crinkles around her clear blue eyes, and reflect that she's still the most dazzling, the most amazing woman on earth.

She sighs. "Josh, I can't. I've got a deadline on the book coming up."

I'm going to North Carolina to stay with Liza, Dave and Caro. Liza moved out there last month, so she and Dave could try and work some things out, and to quiet Dave's misgivings about her being alone in California. I spoke to her last week, and it seems to me as though they could use a neutral presence, for Caro's sake if nothing else.

Besides, I could tell from her voice. My baby needs me. So I'm going. Screw distance, screw leaving them be. Life is short, and they're my family. That's all that matters.

I look at her, take her hands in mine. "Why don't you tell me the real reason?" I ask softly.

"Josh, I just… I can't. I can't right now. I'm still so…I can't deal with it now. Once the babies are born… Please, Josh. Please don't ask me now."

I rest my chin on the top of her head. "All right, baby. I know. But it won't wait forever."

"Well, well, well. Who made you swallow a watermelon seed? Wait…don't answer that."

"Honestly, Daddy."

"C'mere." He wraps me in a surprisingly tight hug. God, it's hard to believe he's in his eighties. His hair's slate gray, and his stride a little slower, but his eyes still laugh as easily as ever. I'm glad he's here.

"It's good to see you, Daddy."

He puts his arm around me and squeezes. "You too, kitten. So how are things? How are you feeling?" he asks anxiously.

"Fine. Rested. Extremely rested," I elaborate dryly.

"Well, honey, you know you should…"

Dave comes clattering out of the house, barreling across the porch and down the stairs. "Liza! What are you doing? I told you I would deal with the cab. You're supposed to be resting."

"David, you're hovering. I have rest coming out of my ears. I wanted to do something for once."

"Liza,…"

"I know, I know. I'm going."

"Thank you."

I watch her go, then turn to see Josh studying me intently. "So how was your flight?"

"You still love her."

"You cut to the chase, don't you, Josh?"

"Hey, I'm a politician."

"Hence my surprise."

He looks affronted, then laughs. "I knew I always liked you, Dave."

"Could have fooled me, those first few years, anyway. I always felt as though I was about to run the gauntlet."

"A father's gotta do what a father's gotta do. But then you'd know that."

"Yes."

"Which brings us, okay it doesn't really, but you didn't answer the first time, to my original question: you love her still, don't you?"

"Well, considering she's having my children…"

"I meant in love. Really, truly, honestly still in love with her, even though you're so angry with her."

"Yes."

"I'm glad."

"Well, I'm glad someone knows exactly how they feel about it. I can't pin anything down for ten minutes at a stretch, really, except that I love her, somehow."

"You'll figure it out. Trust me."

"Yeah."

Caro picks that moment to burst out of the house. "Granddad!" she squeals.

"There's my Georgia peach!"

They play this game every time. It's tradition. "This is North Carolina, silly," she says, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, really? Well, what does it matter…they're all Republican down here anyway."

"Not me."

"That's my girl."

"But Daddy, Momma said I could go!"

"Well, she didn't know I had already said no. You know better than that, Caroline."

The look on her face is mutinous. "You don't want me to do anything! It's not fair! No wonder Momma left!"

I'm stunned. Liza enters from the living room, to which she had withdrawn when the argument began. "Caroline," she says sharply, "don't say things like that! When you've calmed down, you and I can have a discussion about why I left, but not now. Now you're going to apologize to your father and go up to your room."

"I won't apologize, I won't! You're all hypocrites! One day I will leave, and you'll be sorry!" She's sobbing now, and she runs up the stairs, slamming her door shut.

"Well," I say grimly, "I expected that to happen someday, just not quite so soon." I rub my hand over my eyes tiredly.

"She didn't know what she was talking about, Dave. She just wanted to hit you where it hurt most. She's probably sick over it already. She didn't mean it. I'll talk to her."

"No. I will. And I'll thank you not to make any decisions about Caro without consulting me first!"

"Dave, honestly, it was just a trip to the mall. All her work is done. No boys."

"And how do you know that?"

"She told me."

"And you believe her?"

She looks at me steadily. "Yes. You raised her, and I know you raised her to be truthful. So I trust her until she gives me reason to do otherwise. And although I may not have been around for the last ten years, I was with her every day for her first four, more than you were. Some things about her I do know."

"Oh, so this is a contest now? Well, I think any judge would give me the win, here. Where do you get off, being self-righteous?"

"Yes. Yes, I know," she says tiredly.

"Well, know this: I make the decisions around here when it comes to Caro. You lost any say when you walked out that door ten years ago."

"So you expect me to stay shut up when you're being totally unreasonable? I won't do that. David, that is why I left. One of the reasons, anyway. The base was crawling with idiots with that mentality. I couldn't stand it. I was suffocating. Losing the baby, well, that just made me take a long, hard, overdue look at my life. I was going to stay, wait things out, talk to you, but then those bastards at that party said those things, and I had to get out. I couldn't stand one more second. I didn't want either of us to end up like them. Until today I didn't think you really could. What Caro said, she said in anger, and she was wrong, and you should tell her so. But her words had an element to truth to them. Don't make her pay for my mistakes, for ours. They're not hers."

She's trembling, and her hands are clenched together. Her knuckles are white. Any other time I'd be worried about upsetting her, but I'm too angry. I brush past her and stalk out to the car.

Well, at least they've got things out in the open now. Someday we'll all thank Caro for that. I'm betting she heard most of it, so I go and knock on her door. "Sweetie, it's Grandpa. Can I come in?"

I take a muffled sob to be as good an assent as any, so I go in. Her face is crushed in a pillow, and when she looks up her face is swollen and tearstained. "Oh, sweetheart." I open my arms. "Come here. It's alright, baby. It'll be alright."

"I made them fight."

"It wasn't your fault, honey."

"Why didn't I just stay quiet? It wasn't that big of a deal. Why did I have to say those things?"

"You were angry. We don't always say the smartest things when we're angry. I should know. Trust me."

She looks up at me plaintively. "Is she going to leave again?"

Oh, God. What can I say to that? "I don't know, sweetie. I don't think so. And even if she did, it wouldn't be like before, I promise you. I'd see to that. But I wouldn't need to. I don't think she could if she tried. She loves you, sweetheart. She always has. That might not seem like much right now, but for what it's worth, it's true."

I come home to find Liza stretched out on the couch, asleep. I spend some time just looking at her. She honestly doesn't look a bit older than when she was having Caro. She'd call me delusional if I ever said such a thing, but it's true. But then I suppose I've always had a blind spot when it comes to Liza. She stirs, trying to shift into a more comfortable position. It's not very easy on this couch. So I pick her up, and carry her to my room. She's not all that heavy, even with the twins, which is another thing to worry about, but tomorrow.

And yes, I know you caught the thing about putting her in my room, in my bed. She's been staying in one of the guestrooms. We've been trying to figure ourselves out, and with Caro getting used to the situation…But she needs her rest, and my bed, our bed, is bigger. I settle her under the covers, and she snuggles in, squashing a pillow under her arm just as she used to do years ago. I brush her hair back from her forehead and drop a kiss on it. Her eyes drift slowly open. "Davy?"

No one's called me that in years. She wouldn't either, if she wasn't half-asleep. Thank goodness for small mercies. "It's late. Sleep, baby."

"'Kay."

I go to the doorway, and find Josh watching me. We stare at each other for a long moment, and then he nods, giving me a ghost of a smile. "I think Caro might still be up. She's had a rough night."

"Thanks, Josh."

"Yeah. Be careful, though, will ya? We don't often get second chances."

"I will."

"Momma?"

"Hey, Bug. What's up?"

I startle at the use of the long-forgotten nickname. "I was at the library after school. Mrs. Murphy said to say hello. To drop by, if you want."

She smiles, but her eyes are guarded. I'm not the only one who noticed the slip. "Thanks."

"Sure." I turn to go, then stop. "Um, you need anything? A drink or something?"

"Thanks, honey, no. I'm fine."

"Ok. Well, just, you know, call or whatever."

She beams. "I will."

"Um, Momma?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"I, um, I'm sorry about last night. I didn't mean to make you and Daddy fight."

"Oh, Bug. Come here." She pats the bed next to her, and I clamber up, settle cautiously back into her arms. "You didn't make us fight. And it wasn't fighting, really. It was more of a…of an airing of feelings. I'm sorry it upset you. I'm sorry about everything, baby. I messed it up. I messed it all up, and fixing it's going to make it even messier for a while. But try not to worry too much, all right? I love your dad, and I love you, and nothing will ever change that, whatever happens."

I ponder this for a while. She said she was sorry. She sounded uncertain. In my experience, those things don't happen to grownups. But somehow, coming from her, they make me feel more secure.

With that, and the constancy of her hand stoking my hair, I fall asleep.

I'm sitting in the den, hand on my belly, brooding, when Dave comes in. "Hey there, sweet thing. What're you up to?"

His tone is light and cheerful; both that and the pet name is a rare phenomenon these days, but it does nothing to lift my spirits. "Nothing. Just thinking."

He tilts my chin up gently, sees the tears swimming in my eyes. Understands. Knows. "Well, that's no good," he admonishes gently.

"What else is there to do at 11:36 on a Thursday night?"

"There's gotta be something," he says. Then a mischievous smile gleams, and he winks. "Dance with me."

"Excuse me?"

"Dance with me."

"I'm nearly seven months pregnant with twins."

"So we'll go easy."

" 'We'll go easy?' This, from Mr. 'I'll have an aneurysm if Liza stands up for more than ten minutes?' "

"Yeah." His face is so eager. Damn. "Come on."

"Oh, all right."

"Excellent!" He grins, and turns to fiddle with the CD player. "Don't even think about peeking." I pout, and he smiles.

The music comes on, and I groan. "You have got to be kidding me." It's "Jump," by the Pointer Sisters. He's already shimmying to the beat, snapping his fingers, laughing at me.

"You know you love this song. Everybody loves this song."

"Now all I can think of when I hear this is Hugh Grant breaking out the moves at 10 Downing Street."

"Oh, I can do better than that, sister."

"Yeah?" I angle my head, put a hand on my hip. "Prove it."

And he does. Extremely aptly. Extremely. And I've gotta say, it's pretty damn hot. He reaches his hands out, and I grab them, start to sway. "David, when did you ever…I mean, you were good, but, well…"

"I'm in a uniform eight hours a day, at least; I've gotta unwind somehow, don't I? What else do you think I have to do around here?" I falter, but he's so caught up in the moment he doesn't notice. His grin is so infectious that suddenly the years and the hurt fade, and I'm twenty-two again, dancing away my cares with my man.

Eventually, inevitably, the song ends. Dave's eyes sparkle, and his cheeks are flushed. The love swells in my chest so hard and fast it's painful. "Thank you, Dave," I say softly. He nods, slightly, and a small smile touches his lips. He reaches out a hand and tucks my hair behind my ear. Impulsively, I catch hold of it, raise it to my lips, and press a kiss on it, all the while holding his gaze with mine. His eyes are soft as I release his hand, and I can feel them following me as I leave the room.

"Grandpa! Grandpa, wake up!"

I wake with a start, look up into Caro's face. A quick pang of fear twists my heart. "What is it, sweetie? Your mom?"

She looks momentarily contrite. "No. Well, in a way, but not like that. Come on, Grandpa!" She drags me out of the room towards the stairs, puts a finger to her lips. We creep down, and suddenly Liza and Dave come into view. They're dancing. Liza looks a bit hesitant, a bit awkward, but Dave…God, I can count the times I've seen him smile like that on one hand. I have to smile too, watching him, watching them, and Liza can't hold out much longer either. She relaxes, slowly, loses herself in the moment, the music.

I look over at Caro. She's totally engrossed in watching. Her eyes shine with happiness. She's such a good girl…she deserves more than these stolen snatches of time, I think sadly. I place a hand on the top of her head, smile, and climb the stairs back to my room. At the top, I turn. She's still watching.

Josh called last night. Told me about the dancing, about Caro watching, and at last I felt a spark of hope. They fell in love dancing. Maybe…

For the first time since Josh broached the idea of going to stay with them, I wished I were there. Maybe I should have gone, I don't know. It just, it hurts too much, seeing them now, knowing what they were.

I got out the photo albums, leafed through the pages, the memories. God, they were beautiful. She was so full of light, and affection; Dave worshipped her, and she adored him. She drew him out of his shell, and he was her anchor. They were a sight to see, those first few years. So…right.

And then Caro came. I don't know when I've seen a child be more loved. Dave took such tender care of both of them, treasured them. And Liza was a wonderful mother. She encouraged Caro to explore, but never pushed her. Liza was always breezing about with Caro on one hip, her capacious bag on the other, sunglasses holding back her hair. Always laughing.

I stop when I come to a particular picture. It's the three of them, walking along the beach. Caro is perched on Dave's shoulders, and he's hugging Liza to his side with his free arm. Her head is on his shoulder, his lips are pressed to her hair. Such love, such contentment. And she left.

Of all the things I tried to teach my daughters, well, all of my children, the most important was never to run away…from pain, from mistakes. I've run from too many things in my life, some good, some bad. My family, Josh, both literally and figuratively, and… I never wanted my children to go through that kind of pain, that regret. So I can't watch Liza go through that, can't watch her try and forge a relationship with the beautiful girl she abandoned, the husband she left. Maybe it's selfish, maybe I'm a bad mother, but…I can't. I just can't.

I enter the house at a dead run, past a trembling Caro and a frantic Josh. "Did you call an ambulance?" I ask curtly. He nods. "Okay," I exhale, and then I walk quickly into the bedroom.

"Dave?" It's a whimper, and all I can do is reach down and hold her hand; the lump in my throat's too big for anything else. "They're too early." She grimaces in pain, and then continues. "Dave, what if, what if…" Tears trickle down her face, and she starts shaking. Her eyes go wide and glassy with shock, and I fight the panic that's rising in me.

"Liza. Liza, they'll be fine. I promise. Nothing bad's gonna happen. I won't let it. I won't let it." I can't let it.

It's a placental abruption. They're doing a C-section, and we haven't heard anything yet. Dave is pacing like a caged lion, and he's run his hands through his hair so many times I'm honestly surprised he has any left. As soon as we hear the door swing open, Dave pounces on the doctor. For the moment, all I can notice is the amount of blood staining her scrubs.

"My wife? The babies?" Dave asks anxiously.

"Your wife lost a lot of blood, but we gave her a transfusion, and she's stable now. As for the babies, the first is doing well. He's small, five pounds, but doing fine. He's being taken up to NICU right now. The second boy, well, he's considerably smaller, three pounds and change. He wasn't breathing, and he's still having considerable difficulty; there may be other complications."

"Is he-will he…be all right?"

"He's up in the NICU as well; they're doing everything they can."

"May I see my wife?"

"Of course, go ahead." He takes off, and before she can leave, I grab her hand.

"Thank you, Doctor."

She smiles softly. "You're welcome."

It's hours before I'm able, for various reasons, to see my youngest grandson. He's absolutely tiny; the incubator and all of the tubes make him seem even smaller. But he's here.

"Hey, buddy. Hey there. I'm Grandpa. We're gonna be good friends, you and I, so we might as well start now, huh?" His eyes open, revealing their bright blue, and he waves a tiny hand. "Sound like a good idea to you too? Good deal."

I move a chair close to the incubator and sit down. "I'm going to tell you something, Gabriel Joshua. Your mommy picked out that name, you know. It's a good, strong, wise name, the name of a fighter. You've got Lyman blood in you, little guy, and Lymans are fighters. Your great-great grandpa, your great-grandpa, your grandpa, that's me, and your mommy and your aunts and uncles. Your daddy's no slouch, either; someday I'll tell you about all of them. So you've got to fight, buddy; we need you. I can already tell your brother Brady is going to be a handful; you'll have to keep him in line. Your sister, she's so excited; she'll spoil you rotten. And your mommy and daddy need you. They need you so badly. You're their chance. If…if anything happened…I don't know. I just don't know what that might do… So. This is between you and me, buddy. You make it, and I'll be there. For anything you need, okay? Ever. We've all got so much love to give you…let us have that chance, please. So you hang in there, little Chance, all right? You just hang in there."

"Josh."

I turn, and see my wife. My eyes moisten. "Donna." I cross to her, hold her in my arms, so tight. "Thank God," I murmur. "I needed you."

"You too, baby." She pauses, takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Josh."

"What for?"

"For not being here, with you."

"God, no. Donna. No. Please don't. I know. I never thought…It's absolutely fine, honey. So…so, um… how did you get here, anyway?"

Against my chest, she laughs, sniffles. "Sandy and Darrah. They picked me up on their way down."

"Darrah's here?"

"Yeah."

"What about the kids?"

"Adi and Miri have them."

"That would make…what, nine kids in their house? Bless them."

"After six, what difference does a few more make?"

"True."

Donna loosens her hold, glances toward the incubator, speaks without looking away. "Is this him? The newest addition?"

"Yeah." I swallow past the lump in my throat. "He…Gabriel Joshua. That's his name."

"Hello, Gabriel Joshua." She looks up at me, her eyes bright with tears. "He's so tiny, Josh. And he…he looks, just like her. Just like she did. Remember?"

I pull her close once more, smile. "Of course I remember. I may choose to forget our proper anniversary, but that, I do remember. I'll always remember, Donna."

We just hold one another for a moment, and then she looks at our grandson again. "Gabriel Joshua, huh? That's a good name…I like that name."

"Yeah. Except, I changed it."

She just looks at me. "You changed it."

I smirk. "Yes."

"Ah. And what, may I ask, do Liza and Dave have to say about this?"

"They don't know yet."

"Aha. Well."

She's so distracted by, well, everything, that her bullshit radar isn't as finely honed as usual. I grin, and kiss the tip of her nose. "Donna, relax. It's a nickname."

"Oh." She scowls, and pokes me in the ribs. "So, what is it, then?"

"Chance," I say softly. "His name is Chance."

She wraps her arms around me, buries her head in my shoulder. "Sometimes, Joshua, you just…you astound me."

"You always astound me, Donnatella. Every single day. And I…I love you, do you know that?"

"Yes, Joshua, I do know that."

I smile. "All right, then."

We watch our grandson.

I stick my head in the door. She's hunched up into a ball, as hunched as she can be while recovering from surgery, anyway, and tears drip down her face. I used to find her like this after she lost the baby. It always made me feel so helpless. "Liza?"

She raises her tearstained face, and upon seeing me breaks into fresh sobs. "Darrah."

My heart breaks, and I cross the room to hug her. "Hey, sweetie. Shhhh, honey. Shhhhh." I rock her slowly, and she grabs onto me, holds hard.

Eventually, after a long while, she speaks, without looking at me. "I suppose this is my punishment."

"What?"

"For leaving. For everything. I suppose I got off too easy. So now I have to sit here and watch my baby fight. Show me how useless I am, even when I try."

"No…"

"And worst of all, to make you all go through it all again! First with Caro, and then with… him…and now again.

"And Dave! He was the one who had to keep it together then, take care of everything…I can't even give him healthy children…God. No wonder you all despise me."

I take her by the shoulders, look deep into her eyes. "We don't despise you, Liza. Truly, we don't. Maybe we were angry, and confused, but there's not one of us who wouldn't have walked through fire for you if you had asked. Especially Dave. Look, I can guess things are rough with him right now, but you've got to ride it out, trust that you can, okay? He'll come around. He loves you too much not to."

"Your brother's a goddamn saint, you know that, right?"

"I don't know whether you can actually be a 'goddamned saint.' Isn't that kind of an oxymoron, or something?" I grin.

She chuckles in spite of herself, and wipes her eyes on the sheet. "God, I've missed you, Darrah."

"You too, buddy." I watch her as she takes deep shuddering breaths, reflecting that once upon a time, out situations would have been reversed. She's shuttered, and unsure, and that makes me want to kick myself. I probably helped that, justified or not, and it's gone on long enough. I promise myself that whatever else I do, I'm gonna try my damndest to get some of that spark back for her, help her do that for herself.

"Hello, Liza-baby."

I look up, and see Donna standing in the doorway, with a small smile on her lips and tears in her eyes.

"Mama. Oh, Mama."

Donna crosses the room and wraps her arms around Liza, rocking her once more. I leave the room to give them a moment, only to come upon my brother leaning against the wall outside. "Dave?"

His voice is raw, hoarse. "Does she really think that? That it's her fault, now, and all those years ago, Darrah? How-" He runs a hand over his face wearily. "What in the hell do I do now? How can I make her see… God." He dips his head again, tears thick on his lashes.

I wrap my arms around him. "You take it one step at a time, one day at a time, openly and honestly. Big brother, you have a tendency to try and play Superman…you don't need to with us…we love you already, no matter what. It's the same for her. She's hurting right now, Dave. Show her that you hurt, too, or whatever else you're feeling. Start with that."

His voice is soft. "Thank you, Darrah."

"What are little sisters for? Go on," I say, nudging him towards the room. He smiles back at me, and enters. Donna joins me, and we watch as he sits down next to her and holds her hand, and she holds his.

We turn away, satisfied. "They'll find their way," Donna says with quiet conviction.

I nod. Because they will.