A/N: Well, I am back. This is one of the stories that pretty much write
themselves, although I shouldn't say that. If it wrote itself, then no
doubt it would be better than what it is right now. It makes me feel better
that people like this. It's very hard to get inside these people's minds.
Fun, but hard. I'm going to be providing several different views -not
everyone's- on the shooting. And their perspectives on what happened
afterward.
This is told from Toby's point of view, and it will most likely sound a lot like Josh, but Toby is a lot like Josh, so that's how I can get away with it.
Disclaimer: If I wished that they belonged to me, would that mean that they belonged to me?
,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,................................................................................................................
Toby Ziegler's POV
..............................................................................................................................
When you look back on it, it's not easy to see where it all began. Normally, I can look back on the bad events and see exactly where it went wrong. Like when we had the big mess with the President's secret plan to fight inflation. Where we went wrong on that situation was when we allowed Josh in the press room, and let him do the briefing. But with this, there was nothing that anyone could have done. And for once, it wasn't Sam, Josh, or CJ that screwed things up. For once.
No, no one screwed this up. Sure, there were several things that we could have done differently. For one thing, the President worked the rope- line. He had been talking about his softball game all day, and yet here he was, walking down the rope-line. I hung back with other members of the staff.
It would be too melodramatic to say that I felt a sense of foreboding. At the time, I was feeling two things: hunger, and annoyance. Hunger because I had been too worried about Columbia to eat, and annoyance because I was hungry, and I couldn't get anything to eat. I was just about the decided which emotion was stronger (it probably would have been annoyance) when I heard the shout.
"Gun!" There were explosions happening all around me. People started screaming and running around. I saw Sam knock CJ down just before someone hit me. I couldn't tell whether or not it was a member of the crowd, or a Secret Service agent. My head hit one of the barriers. A flash of pain went through my head. The loud blasts of gunfire went through my skull and drilled into my brain. The noise was so loud that it felt like my eardrums were going to explode.
Even after the gunfire stopped, my ears were still ringing. Secret Service agents were running around and shouting into their walkie-talkies. "We've got people down! Keep them down! Who's been hit? Who's been hit?" It was chaos. I don't think that the police officers and Secret knew what they were supposed to be doing.
I got to my feet. I couldn't stop my arms and legs from shaking. I'd seen shootings before, but nothing like that. While it was happening, I hadn't had any real emotions. After the shooting, I was filled with a wild terror. Our own helplessness was suddenly shoved in our faces. My breath was coming in short little gasps, and I'm sure that my eyes held a wild, maniacal gleam in them.
"Toby!" I turned around, adrenaline coursing through me. Sam was walking quickly towards me. He looked like how I felt. His brown hair was sticking in all directions, his face was flushed, and his eyes were wide and terrified. "Toby, thank God you're all right!" he said, grabbing my arm tightly as if to reassure himself that I was real.
"Yeah," I said breathlessly. "Yeah. Are you all right?"
"I'm okay," he said. "CJ was with me; I think that she was a little shaken up, but she's all right."
"Yeah," I echoed again. Paramedics started flowing in with their flashing lights and sirens. There began to be a semblance of order, though chaos was still prevalent. People were wandering around with dazed, stupid looks on their face. It was just like we had all been through a battle. It was shell-shock.
I glanced around the scene. Members of the crowd were crying and holding onto each other. I could see Sam wandering over to talk to CJ, and I could see someone closely resembling Charlie talking to some people. It didn't bother me that I couldn't see the President, Zoey, or Leo, because I knew that those would have been the first people out of there. No, what really bothered me was the fact that I couldn't see Josh.
I know Josh. He's a good person. He would be right in the middle of this, trying to help people. And although I might not really like him, I do sometimes feel certain friendly emotions concerning him. He's helped me in some tight spots. So I was bothered.
"Josh?" I called out, noting the faint hint of panic that had crept into my voice. I walked over to the gate, which was now open. It had been closed right behind us when we went out. I ran into Charlie. "Charlie, are you all right?" I asked. It's a stupid question really, when something like that happens. He wasn't all right. I wasn't all right. But I asked it anyway. He nodded, but before he could say anything else I slapped him with another question. "Listen, have you seen Josh?"
"He got in the car with Leo," Charlie told me. But I could tell from his posture that he wasn't sure of his answer. And I knew it wasn't right.
"No, no he didn't," I told him, now more than a bit concerned. Charlie was going to say something else, but his attention was called by a woman. I was left standing alone in the midst of milling people. A creeping concern came onto me. Where was Josh? Could he...no, it wasn't possible. He couldn't be hurt. He was probably just settling his nerves somewhere.
"Josh?" I called out again. Relief flooded through me as I saw a person wearing a suit that looked like his, and fly-away hair that definitely was his. He was leaning up against a wall with his back towards me. Relief was quickly replaced by annoyance as he didn't even move. I was calling his name, and actually caring how he was, and he wasn't answering me? That was so typical of him. He would be laughing when I got to him, pleased that he got an actual caring emotion out of me. My annoyance was then replaced by full-throttle anger.
"Josh, didn't you hear me calling..?" my voice tapered off as I faced him. He was clutching his torso, and there was a large bloodstain spreading over his blue shirt. His brown eyes were wide, and there wasn't a shred of recognition in them that I could see. I was nearly knocked over by shock. Full-throttle anger was shoved aside in favor of a terrified panic. "I need..." my voice failed as I looked at him again, "I need a doctor!" Some people turned to look at me in amazement. There wasn't anyone here that didn't need a doctor. How come I was so special? I was caught again in my own helplessness. "I need help!" I finally yelled out.
Josh started to slide over to my right. His mouth opened and shut several times, and his eyes widened. He slid off the wall completely, and I reached out to catch him. I tried to put him down as gently as I could on the pavement. His head rolled to the side as he lost consciousness. CJ's cry alerted all the paramedics to the situation.
"Josh!" she screamed as she ran towards us. I had no idea that CJ could run that fast. Sam came right on her heels. She and Sam knelt beside me and anxiously peered into Josh's slack face. We knew that there was nothing that we could do, but it was the damned helplessness again. You felt better if you were sitting right beside someone and not helping rather than ten feet away from them and not helping. "What happened?" CJ asked, turning his head to face her.
"I think it's fairly obvious," I said, unable to stop the biting sarcasm.
Paramedics rushed over to us and pushed out of the way. "Please, stand aside sir," one of them said politely. "We need to work. Sam, CJ, and I were shoved away by blue-coated men and women. They worked furiously, and I had absolutely no idea about what they were doing.
"We've a white male, single gunshot wound, loss of blood," one of them yelled out. "We need to get him to GW!" Two of them came with a stretcher and loaded Josh up onto it. "One of you can ride in the ambulance," a woman told us.
"I'll go," Sam said. He jumped in the back of the ambulance. They put Josh in the ambulance, and shut the door. I stood watching them for half a second, then turned to the person standing beside me.
"CJ, can we get a car?"
"I'm on it," she replied, and sprinted away. the ambulance blazed out of the parking lot with its siren blaring. Thirty seconds later, CJ came back to me. "I got us a car," she panted. I nodded, and ran after her towards the car. The doors slammed, and then we were right behind the ambulance. I could only look at CJ, and know that she felt the same worry that I did. The sirens seemed to escalate the size of the emergency, and raise my heart rate until it felt like my heart was about to jump out of my chest. I bent my head and offered up a silent prayer for Josh.
"Oh Lord, please let him be all right."
This is told from Toby's point of view, and it will most likely sound a lot like Josh, but Toby is a lot like Josh, so that's how I can get away with it.
Disclaimer: If I wished that they belonged to me, would that mean that they belonged to me?
,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,................................................................................................................
Toby Ziegler's POV
..............................................................................................................................
When you look back on it, it's not easy to see where it all began. Normally, I can look back on the bad events and see exactly where it went wrong. Like when we had the big mess with the President's secret plan to fight inflation. Where we went wrong on that situation was when we allowed Josh in the press room, and let him do the briefing. But with this, there was nothing that anyone could have done. And for once, it wasn't Sam, Josh, or CJ that screwed things up. For once.
No, no one screwed this up. Sure, there were several things that we could have done differently. For one thing, the President worked the rope- line. He had been talking about his softball game all day, and yet here he was, walking down the rope-line. I hung back with other members of the staff.
It would be too melodramatic to say that I felt a sense of foreboding. At the time, I was feeling two things: hunger, and annoyance. Hunger because I had been too worried about Columbia to eat, and annoyance because I was hungry, and I couldn't get anything to eat. I was just about the decided which emotion was stronger (it probably would have been annoyance) when I heard the shout.
"Gun!" There were explosions happening all around me. People started screaming and running around. I saw Sam knock CJ down just before someone hit me. I couldn't tell whether or not it was a member of the crowd, or a Secret Service agent. My head hit one of the barriers. A flash of pain went through my head. The loud blasts of gunfire went through my skull and drilled into my brain. The noise was so loud that it felt like my eardrums were going to explode.
Even after the gunfire stopped, my ears were still ringing. Secret Service agents were running around and shouting into their walkie-talkies. "We've got people down! Keep them down! Who's been hit? Who's been hit?" It was chaos. I don't think that the police officers and Secret knew what they were supposed to be doing.
I got to my feet. I couldn't stop my arms and legs from shaking. I'd seen shootings before, but nothing like that. While it was happening, I hadn't had any real emotions. After the shooting, I was filled with a wild terror. Our own helplessness was suddenly shoved in our faces. My breath was coming in short little gasps, and I'm sure that my eyes held a wild, maniacal gleam in them.
"Toby!" I turned around, adrenaline coursing through me. Sam was walking quickly towards me. He looked like how I felt. His brown hair was sticking in all directions, his face was flushed, and his eyes were wide and terrified. "Toby, thank God you're all right!" he said, grabbing my arm tightly as if to reassure himself that I was real.
"Yeah," I said breathlessly. "Yeah. Are you all right?"
"I'm okay," he said. "CJ was with me; I think that she was a little shaken up, but she's all right."
"Yeah," I echoed again. Paramedics started flowing in with their flashing lights and sirens. There began to be a semblance of order, though chaos was still prevalent. People were wandering around with dazed, stupid looks on their face. It was just like we had all been through a battle. It was shell-shock.
I glanced around the scene. Members of the crowd were crying and holding onto each other. I could see Sam wandering over to talk to CJ, and I could see someone closely resembling Charlie talking to some people. It didn't bother me that I couldn't see the President, Zoey, or Leo, because I knew that those would have been the first people out of there. No, what really bothered me was the fact that I couldn't see Josh.
I know Josh. He's a good person. He would be right in the middle of this, trying to help people. And although I might not really like him, I do sometimes feel certain friendly emotions concerning him. He's helped me in some tight spots. So I was bothered.
"Josh?" I called out, noting the faint hint of panic that had crept into my voice. I walked over to the gate, which was now open. It had been closed right behind us when we went out. I ran into Charlie. "Charlie, are you all right?" I asked. It's a stupid question really, when something like that happens. He wasn't all right. I wasn't all right. But I asked it anyway. He nodded, but before he could say anything else I slapped him with another question. "Listen, have you seen Josh?"
"He got in the car with Leo," Charlie told me. But I could tell from his posture that he wasn't sure of his answer. And I knew it wasn't right.
"No, no he didn't," I told him, now more than a bit concerned. Charlie was going to say something else, but his attention was called by a woman. I was left standing alone in the midst of milling people. A creeping concern came onto me. Where was Josh? Could he...no, it wasn't possible. He couldn't be hurt. He was probably just settling his nerves somewhere.
"Josh?" I called out again. Relief flooded through me as I saw a person wearing a suit that looked like his, and fly-away hair that definitely was his. He was leaning up against a wall with his back towards me. Relief was quickly replaced by annoyance as he didn't even move. I was calling his name, and actually caring how he was, and he wasn't answering me? That was so typical of him. He would be laughing when I got to him, pleased that he got an actual caring emotion out of me. My annoyance was then replaced by full-throttle anger.
"Josh, didn't you hear me calling..?" my voice tapered off as I faced him. He was clutching his torso, and there was a large bloodstain spreading over his blue shirt. His brown eyes were wide, and there wasn't a shred of recognition in them that I could see. I was nearly knocked over by shock. Full-throttle anger was shoved aside in favor of a terrified panic. "I need..." my voice failed as I looked at him again, "I need a doctor!" Some people turned to look at me in amazement. There wasn't anyone here that didn't need a doctor. How come I was so special? I was caught again in my own helplessness. "I need help!" I finally yelled out.
Josh started to slide over to my right. His mouth opened and shut several times, and his eyes widened. He slid off the wall completely, and I reached out to catch him. I tried to put him down as gently as I could on the pavement. His head rolled to the side as he lost consciousness. CJ's cry alerted all the paramedics to the situation.
"Josh!" she screamed as she ran towards us. I had no idea that CJ could run that fast. Sam came right on her heels. She and Sam knelt beside me and anxiously peered into Josh's slack face. We knew that there was nothing that we could do, but it was the damned helplessness again. You felt better if you were sitting right beside someone and not helping rather than ten feet away from them and not helping. "What happened?" CJ asked, turning his head to face her.
"I think it's fairly obvious," I said, unable to stop the biting sarcasm.
Paramedics rushed over to us and pushed out of the way. "Please, stand aside sir," one of them said politely. "We need to work. Sam, CJ, and I were shoved away by blue-coated men and women. They worked furiously, and I had absolutely no idea about what they were doing.
"We've a white male, single gunshot wound, loss of blood," one of them yelled out. "We need to get him to GW!" Two of them came with a stretcher and loaded Josh up onto it. "One of you can ride in the ambulance," a woman told us.
"I'll go," Sam said. He jumped in the back of the ambulance. They put Josh in the ambulance, and shut the door. I stood watching them for half a second, then turned to the person standing beside me.
"CJ, can we get a car?"
"I'm on it," she replied, and sprinted away. the ambulance blazed out of the parking lot with its siren blaring. Thirty seconds later, CJ came back to me. "I got us a car," she panted. I nodded, and ran after her towards the car. The doors slammed, and then we were right behind the ambulance. I could only look at CJ, and know that she felt the same worry that I did. The sirens seemed to escalate the size of the emergency, and raise my heart rate until it felt like my heart was about to jump out of my chest. I bent my head and offered up a silent prayer for Josh.
"Oh Lord, please let him be all right."