A/N: Well, I know that this is highly overdue, but here it is: another chapter of Through a Friend's Pain! Yes, I know that you are all amazed and astonished. And I know that amazed and astonished mean the same things as well. I'm not stupid, gosh!

Erm, yes, well you'll have to forgive me for my overly cheery mood. Just had a bit too much sugar is all.

Disclaimer: I think that I've used possibly all of the sarcastic remarks that I have in my library for this thing. Oh well. I own nothing.

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Donna Moss's POV

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I wish that I could say that I lived through every second of Josh's agony, that I was awake, present and conscious for each heartbreaking moment. But eventually the anxiety took its toll on me and I fell asleep. I fought it as much as I could, my eyes slowly closing and then jerking open. I was furious at myself for this weakness that I was showing. How dare I fall asleep while Josh was still on the operating table, when he might be dying at this very moment? Then the thought of Josh dying would fill me with enough adrenaline to keep me awake for at least the next five minutes. Then my head would start dropping again. One time I was not able to wake myself up.

When I finally woke up, everyone else was clustered on the other side of the room. It was almost as if they were scared to be around me. My sensible brain told me that this was because I was sleeping and they didn't want to disturb me, but the irrational, worried part of my brain told me that they didn't want to be around me because something horrible had happened. "What is it?" I asked, hurriedly wiping the sleep out of my eyes. "What's happened to Josh?"

"Nothing's happened," Zoey's Secret Service agent told me. I think her name was Gina. According to what everyone else had said in recounting the events of the nights she had been the first one to realize what had been happening. Had it not been for her people might actually be dead. "Josh is still in surgery and we're just waiting to see what happens."

I nodded, my mouth dry. "I'm going out for a drink of water," I said, trying to swallow and failing miserably. Everyone nodded and no one tried to stop me as I walked out of the small waiting room. I needed to move around. If I remained staring at the wall I was going to go insane.

Well, there's one good thing about this hospital, I thought, walking around the hallways. At least they mark their water fountains clearly.

I glanced around the hallways and a startling thought came to me. Why go back to the waiting room? This was a completely unforeseen conclusion and the arrival of it surprised me. I actually turned around to see whether someone had thrown a piece of paper at me. Nope, no sniggering little boys that were running down the hallway, that was definitely an idea.

And then, yet another startling idea hit me. Why not go to see Josh? Looking back on it now, these all look like perfectly reasonable conclusions to go to, but at the time I was amazed by the random processes of my brain. I looked around, to make sure that no one was watching me and sauntered down the hallway. I thought on where the surgery rooms might be and was finding my knowledge of hospitals woefully inadequate when I heard a voice behind me. "Donna?"

I shrieked and whirled around, my hand pressed onto my heart. Leo McGarry was standing behind me, a concerned look on his weathered face. "What are you doing down here?" I asked him, trying to keep the note of accusation out of my voice. He was still the Chief of Staff and still my boss, even though it felt like things such as that shouldn't matter tonight.

"I should ask you the same question," he told me, giving me a tired smile. I suddenly felt sorry for him. He had been floating back between the hospital and the West Wing all night, trying to be with his Deputy Chief of Staff and his best friend while trying to run the country. That night I think that Leo had the hardest job of any of us.

"I was just taking a walk," I said unconvincingly. Leo knew that I was lying, and he knew what my true purpose was in walking down a deserted hallway.

"I just came from there," he told me. "The President woke up and wanted to see him. I can take you down there if you want." I bit my lip. Now that it came to it I wasn't quite sure whether or not I wanted to see Josh.

"Take me there," my mouth said before my brain knew what was happening. "I want to see him." Leo nodded and escorted me through several doors. We came to one that said Surgery Room 1. Leo nodded at me.

"I'll leave you alone," he said, opening the door. I walked in and the door closed. I was reminded of the fact that part of this was a teaching hospital as I noticed a huge window on the operating room. This must be where the students watched the operation and learned. I walked closer to the window and pressed my nose up against the glass in an effort to see better. I squinted my eyes and suddenly the scene became clear to me.

Doctors were methodically cutting Josh open. I didn't want to look, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the gruesome sight. It seemed like there should be more blood than there was. All in all it looked like a rather clean situation, and not what you would think would be the case when it came from an operation where someone's chest was being cut open.

It was strange to see Josh sleeping. Come to think of it I hardly ever saw him sleep. He would nap occasionally, but usually he was so focused on whatever he was trying to get accomplished, be it arguing with Congress or with Toby, that he would ignore sleep entirely. But now he was stuck here in this sleep, thanks to the bullets of some fake terrorists.

I looked at him with pity. I wanted to go over, yell at him, and then see him shoot up, annoyed at me. I remembered how we'd first met, and how he hadn't wanted to hire me, but then I basically conned him into hiring me. All right, I wasn't exactly proud that I'd conned my boss into hiring me, but he couldn't live without me now.

My breath caught in my chest as I looked at the procedure. You always think of the medical operations being done on someone else, someone else's boss, someone else's friend. You never think that it could be done to your boss or to your friend. If you think about it for a moment you always feel safe when you think about tragedies, because it happens to someone else. That's what you think until it happens to one of your friends, until it happens to your boss.

I couldn't stay there anymore. I had to get out. I wasn't brave enough to stay in there, I wasn't brave enough to support Josh through his time of need. I ran out of the room, hating myself for being weak. I leaned against the wall, panting with fear and anxiety. I self-loathing that I felt for myself at that moment was bigger than even Josh's, Toby's or Sam's hatred for Republicans.

"Donna?" I heard a voice ask. I looked down the hallway and saw Sam walking towards me. "What are you doing down here?" I sniffed and hurriedly wiped the slight wetness that had developed at the corners of my eyes. He took in the room number and the light of recognition went on his face. "You were looking in on Josh?"

I nodded, unable to speak around the huge lump that had developed in my throat. I hated myself yet again. Showing weakness in private was bad enough, but showing weakness in front of someone else…that was simply unacceptable.

"I just thought that if I saw him then I could make him better," I said, shrugging my shoulders helplessly. "But I went in there, and it wasn't like the episodes of ER that I saw on TV. It was real, and it was Josh, and I keep on remembering the last things that he said to me…and I still didn't get his chair fixed," I realized, making yet another mental note. Sam looked at me in confusion. "His chair broke when he sat down on it, and it was rather embarrassing for him," I explained quickly. "And now I have to get it fixed…" I bit my lip in anxiety.

Sam laid a gentle, restraining hand on my shoulder. "It's all right," he said soothingly. "Everything's going to be all right."

"But what if it's not?" I asked him bluntly. And Sam, the weaver of words in the West Wing, had no sure and ready answer for me that would make everything all right. In a way it made it made it better that Sam didn't know what to say. At least that way I didn't feel like I was the only one who was completely lost for an action or for something to do.

"I don't know if I want to go in there or not," Sam said, gazing apprehensively at the door. He swallowed audibly, and I noticed that his hands were trembling. "He's my best friend in the world…but if you can't handle it…" I shot him a sharp look, but said nothing. "God, what kind of friend am I if I can't even go in to see my best friend while he's going through something like this?" Sam asked, the same self-loathing that I had felt before in his voice.

"That's what I was wondering earlier," I said softly, gazing down at the polished white tile of the hospital floor. "If he's going through something this hard and this horrible, then what kind of person am I if I can't at least try to help him with this?" I shook my head, putting my hand over my mouth, a futile gesture to stop any more words from slipping out of my lips.

"Is this survivor's guilt or something like it?" Sam wondered, a puzzled look on his face. I had to hold back a laugh at the look on his face. It was just so much like Sam to wonder about intellectual things at a time like this. No matter what else was happening he had to be learning, gathering knowledge, or using the knowledge that he had accumulated. Sam was one of those people that were never satisfied with what they had done. He always wanted to go the extra step, make it that much better, and know just that much more about the issue. It's part of what made him such a good writer, and it's also part of what makes him such a good friend.

"Donna, that's very inappropriate laughter," Sam said, a very serious look on his face, but the inflection on his voice told me that he was struggling not to chuckle as well. Eventually he gave up and let out a few short laughs. "Besides, Josh would be making some sort of inappropriate humor right about now anyway," Sam said, shaking his head. I smiled weakly at him. Strangely enough, I did not feel guilty about laughing. Sam was right. If Josh was here then he would be making someone else laugh about either something that he had done or said.

"You realize that I'm probably going to have to go on some morning shows?" Sam suddenly asked. I looked at him with a critical woman's eye. Sam had come out of the shooting looking surprisingly normal. His hair wasn't even out of place. The others had a worn, haggard look to them, but Sam looked like he had just walked out of his apartment, ready to start the day.

"I could actually believe that," I said, raising an eyebrow at his appearance. How many other people can survive a murder attempt and still have perfect hair and nary a wrinkle on their suit? A thought came to me that banished all wonderings of Sam's strangely clean, pressed suit out of my head. "But what'll you talk about?" I asked him. Sam shrugged.

"Just what happened I suppose," he said nonchalantly. "And maybe about what the White House is going to do about it. CJ would normally brief me for this, but she's a bit shaken up. That's why I think that I'm going to have to do the shows. I know that Leo's going to want someone from the White House in the morning shows, and if CJ can't do it then I'm the natural choice. Besides, I'm more photogenic than Toby," he told me with an easy grin.

"I need coffee," I said simply. I glanced at the door, feeling the familiar feeling of butterflies fluttering up in my stomach. "Just one thing." I pushed the door open, and walked into the room, now prepared for what I was going to see. It was still pitiful to see Josh lying on the table, but I felt now, more than ever that everything was going to be all right. It might not be all right for quite a while, but it eventually would be. Josh was going to survive. He wouldn't be the same, I knew that.

There would be a lot of healing to do, both physically and mentally. It would be forever before he was ready to come back to work, and imagine the hospital bills! But he would make it through all right. I no longer felt the depression and fear that I had while I was previously in the room. Call it a premonition, or whatever you want, but I could see Josh walking around, happy and healthy once again. And that thought made me positively giddy.

"Donna?" Sam uncertainly asked. I jumped when he spoke. I had thought that I was the only person in the room. He came up beside me and looked at the doctors surrounding Josh.

"Yeah," I said, still unable to tear myself away from Josh. I managed to pull away from the window and started to walk away. I didn't feel like that much of a traitor, and I knew that Josh was going to be all right in the end. Sam held the door open for me, and I turned around to look at Josh once more and almost waved at him. I stopped myself at the last second, and contented myself with a small farewell smile.

"How about that coffee now?" Sam asked, going into the main room, not the horrible small waiting room that they had given us. As I was pouring the coffee I happened to glance out of the window. The sun was slowly rising, sending the rays of sunlight out through the windows and into the waiting room. With my newfound sense of optimism I could not help but smile and laugh to myself softly.

Yes, Josh had through a horrible thing. We also had been through it with him. That night it hadn't been only Josh going through pain. We also had gone through it as well. Everyone who worked in the West Wing was somehow involved in the shooting, and even people who didn't work in the West Wing. That night, tragedy reached out to everyone.

But it was eventually over. We had gone through our ordeal and had emerged from it better people. The President was all right, and would return to the White House possibly tomorrow if he continued to improve. Josh was still in surgery, but he was out of the danger zone, I knew that. Somehow, I just knew that he was going to be all right. And we would go back to work and try to make the world a better place.

I couldn't help myself. Despite the seriousness of the place where we were, and all of the Secret Service agents that were lurking around the waiting room, I opened my mouth and I laughed.

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I know that we arrived rather quickly at the morning, but it was dragging on too long and there had to be some quickening. Besides, we don't know how long that Donna was asleep for. She might have been asleep for hours on end. There's probably going to be an epilogue, which will just tie up all of the loose ends that are still out there.

Hope you enjoyed!