Disclaimer: You know.
Author's notes: Not much to say today. I like this chapter, I like its tone. Its different from the others, a little more character development, in case there hasn't been enough of that. Oh I love the sceen with Donna andCharlie. Donna's POV.
The Secret Service is still singing to me when Ned comes up and hands me a message, I neither want to read or relay. He gives me one of those you can't shoot the messenger looks.
Matt Santos comes rolling in to the recovery rooms. The hospital has sealed off this part for us, although I think more of it has to do the thirty-armed men then for my convenience.
He looks at me with questioning eyes. "Donna, what are you doing here?"
"I've been here before you were."
"I thought I was hallucinating."
"Really, that's sort of a lame hallucination."
"Why are people singing?"
"To make me feel better, I think."
"Oh, that makes sense. Where is Helen?"
"She should be here soon. She had to make a brief stop in Georgia."
"Why?"
"Because Bob Russell needed to stop."
"Huh?"
"She was picked up by Air Force Two. I've been talking to her all day."
"Really, isn't that weird?"
"That people would want to help you? No." I smile at him, and I point to his arm, "Only one fracture, wuss."
He laughs, God he looks drained, and I can't blame him.
"Are you feeling ok Donna, you look awful?"
"I am fine." Each word filled with spite. He smirks; he realizes that he wasn't the first person to point it out.
I sign and deliver the message I've been dreading for the past few minutes. "Sir, reporters are posted outside of your children's camp. Helen's sister Beth is on her way to pick them up. As far as I know the boys don't know what happened, but the reporters started questioning the staff at the camp."
"SON OF A BITCH!"
"Sir, I will take care of this."
"How?"
"I have very powerful friends." The words sink in and he gazes at me recalling all the events of the flight to DC.
"Donna, you don't work for us any more."
"I am here as long as you need me, sir." I handed him one of the many cell phones I have been toting around with me. "Call Helen, she is worried sick." I leave his room when my cell phone rings.
"Donna, its Charlie."
"Did you shave that THING off your face?"
"No."
Dial tone.
I have sacrificed most of my morals today, but I will stand firm with Charlie, someone has to. CJ calls me a few seconds later and yells at me to stop hanging up on the boy wonder. We chat, I ask her to send someone up to kill those reporters. She says she personally contacted the local police. CJ's the woman!
Cindy and Ned both greet me with information. Leo is coming to the recovery rooms now and Josh should be there in a few minutes. She says the last few minutes he has really been fighting. The first minutes of peace wash over me. Then Ned speaks.
"Amy Gardner is here."
"What?" Shock and confusion riddle my voice.
"She's here in the waiting room. She's been here for about a half hour. She wants to speak to you."
"Yeah like I don't have enough to worry about." I roll my eyes at this huge nuisance in my way.
I decide to talk to Leo before I deal with the Bitch from Hell. Leo looks just as tired as the others. This time it wasn't as bad for him, not double digits hours of surgery. His eyes weakly flicker open.
"Hey you." I say in the doorway.
"Hey yourself." Everything about him is weak, smile and voice included.
"Does it hurt, Leo?"
"Yeah."
"Then we're square."
"If you say so Donna." That will be the extent of the conversation I will ever have with Leo about last night, about forgiveness, about the bombing.
I take the elevator with Jackson and New Guy, which I finally learned his name was Jefferson. Dead presidents are protecting my life.
Amy Gardener, ice queen extraordinaire, the embodiment of a woman in DC, strong can sense weakness and will pounce. For whatever reason she is here, it can't be good.
When I see her, she looks like everyone else I have seen today, hollow, scared and shaking.
"Amy?" I am not even sure if it is her.
"Donna!" She runs and embraces me. Excruciating fire once again shoots over my body, my knees weaken and if Amy wasn't there, I would have fallen. "Donna, I drove here as soon as I heard!"
Why? I don't understand. Then the waterfall start, she sobs uncontrollably. I guide her to a chair and in unison we sit. I have never seen her like this. Who knew she had emotions? "Are they ok?" I fill her in on their current situation. If I thought her reaction was bad before, Yikes.
"Are you ok?" Great thinking Donna, great uses of the English Language.
"I made fun of him."
"What? When?" I have no clue what she is talking about.
"Back in California, Josh was freaking out over a kids movie and I made fun of him. Will said that was because I didn't know what it was like to think someone you care about could be dead. But today, I know." The weeping continues on my shoulder. What do you do in this sort of a situation? I hate this woman, I loathe her. She used Josh, insults me a regular basis and now I am left supporting her in her time of need?
"You must hate me!"
So I say the first thing that comes to my head, "Of course I hate you, Amy, but it has very little to do with this." Eye contact is made, and laughter ensues. The belly laughs are sending fire through my body. Now I have a problem. I have to ask Amy for help. I hug her again and whisper, "I need you to come to the bathroom with me."
She whispers back, "You aren't planning to kill me in there?" I shake my head. "Hey, do you know where the restroom is, Donna?"
"Sure let me take you there." I turn my attention to my shadows. "You boys don't want to come in do you?"
"No, I think you can handle this on your own." Jackson chuckles.
Amy and I cross the waiting room and enter the bathroom. This one is pink, which I might add is a little insulting. I pull off my jacket with fire and throbbing. "I need you to look at something, I can't show Ronna or any one else because they might freak out."
"Is this going to change our relationship?" She is clearly uncertain about where this is going, although I can't really blame her.
"Yeah, and it will get a little socially awkward as well." As I start unbutton my shirt, I turn away from her and expose my back. "Is it bad?"
I hear a gasp, "Oh my god what happened?"
"Is it bad?"
"Yeah, you have a massive bruise along your back and your ribs, it black and red. You have nice cut as well, it stopped bleeding but it looks like it could start at any time. What happened?"
"I ran into a filing cabinet."
"No really what happened."
"I was slammed against a filing cabinet."
"How?"
"The secret service wouldn't let me leave the building and I um put a fight."
My words soak into her brain, everything about her changes, her face softens, her voice kinder. There is something new about her, respect, for the first time she respects me.
"Does it hurt?"
"Only to breathe, walk or talk." Somehow I force a smile and pull my shirt back on.
"You need to see a doctor, conveniently you are in a hospital."
"I am fine." It is quickly becoming my mantra. Amy is the first person not to believe me, or at least to call me on it.
"Sorry, but you are seeing a doctor, now! I am sure the nice men the black suits out there would be interested to hear what happened."
Oh my God she wants to take my power from me. This is my show and she wants in and to steal the spot light. How to play this?
I could be mean and bitchy, but that will only make it worse.
I could be honest, but she will sense it as weakness. Go with the old stand by, change topics. "Josh will be coming out of surgery any minute now if you want to see him." She recoils.
"I am not the one he is going to want to see." I am not sure, myself, if he is going to want to see me.
"Then why did you come?"
"I just thought this is where I needed to be." I had to laugh, I never saw any similarities between us, night and day, ying and yang, but here we are, with the same thoughts, same logic. Suddenly I am not nearly as insulted that Josh wanted to be with her over me.
"When is the press conference?"
"In an hour. Do you want the visit him after that?"
"Sure. Hey, if you haven't seen a doctor after the press conference that I'll have to step in. Understand."
"Yeah." I finish buttoning up and glance at myself in the mirror. Wow, I really do look rough. The dark rings around my eyes really contrast my alabaster skin. My hair is disheveled and my shirt is all wrinkly, I look like the walking dead.
"Good luck later."
"Thanks Amy." We leave the bathroom and some of our mutual hatred behind us as well.
After deep breathing exercises that only seem to make the gnawing worse. Although the recover ward reminds me, my pain is fractional compared to the others. Cindy tells me they are moving Josh now into his room. She asks if I need anything, I tell her no, I think she knows I'm hurt.
I'm on the phone with Vinick when they wheel Josh into his room. Cautiously I enter. He looks good, well not good, better then he did six years ago. Still painfully pale, still painfully motionless. Small moans breech his mouth and before I know it I am next to him.
He is not the same man he was last night.
He is not the same man he was yesterday morning, a lifetime ago.
This is Hurt Josh, Pitiful Josh. This is the Josh that needs me and the rest of the world can wait.
"Donna." Panic, and isolation fills his voice, he didn't want to wake up alone. I clench his hand.
"I'm here Josh." The smallest smile quivers the faintest eyes lashes flicker. He opens his eyes.
"You look terrible."
"I look terrible?" Echoes from another conversation, but still I am getting a little sick of here it, even if it is the truth.
We have a lot to talk about, George is back and he is currently occupying all the same our bodies, the medical equipment and the bed doesn't fill.
"Donna." He doesn't so want to talk as much as he just wants to know I am here, with him. His fingers slowly rub my knuckles, his thumb concentrated on my ring finger. The repeated motion of his fingers, starts to slow down my heart which has been on overdrive all morning.
I am taken back by his simple breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, the sound of the air escaping his lips. He is alive. The significance sinks in. Josh is alive, we have more time together. That's all that matters. Time.
I watch his eyes focus on me, looking at me as if it was the first time. I could stay here, all day, forever, just watching him watch me.
"You should get some sleep."
"Will you be here when I wake up?" I don't know, I am very busy.
"I won't be far, Josh. I am never far." Against my better judgment I lean in a kiss him gently. First in the forehead, platonic, safe, it's the second kiss that will get me in trouble. The second one, light, airy on the lips, I linger there a little to long, just to get a better taste of him, salty. It's the second kiss that I place too much weight on my ribs. Don't wince. Don't let him see you in pain. I back away and hoarsely whisper, "Goodnight."
The hallway, away from his eyes and his fears. I am safe here, to show my anguish.
I could turn to the wall, so no one can see me wreathing in pain. But I don't have time.
Scully runs into me, at full force. Hands moving me out of the way, hands on my ribs.
Fire, heat, ice, cold, my month fills with saliva, my body throbs.
The blood curtly scream echoes through the halls. I hit the ground on my knees. I blackout before the chaos starts.