Breaking the News (3/4) "Mallory"
He had turned to her many times that day and night, as his emotions fluctuated. They had turned to each other that morning as they'd gotten their act together and realized the love between them. He'd turned to her after learning about Leo. He'd turned to her in Leo's room, after he'd called housekeeping to clean the room. And finally, when the media had called Nevada and the election for Congressman Matthew Santos, he'd turned to her.
He knew she'd been watching him as he stared at the map of the country on the white board, and then at the picture of Leo on the bulletin board. In the last few weeks, his "Donna Radar" had finally come back after being silent for so many months.
She left the doorway eventually, though he didn't know how long she watched him—time seemed to have no meaning to him tonight. He assumed she went downstairs to the ballroom, but he didn't know that for sure. He hoped she was down there, because he was finally going down. He finally decided to enjoy a little of the celebration, even if it did aggravate the new ache in his chest. He shut off the light as he left the room, and on his way to the elevator, he ran into Mallory. He wasn't surprised to note that she had been crying. Hell, he had been crying, and he made a point of never crying.
"Hi Josh," she said, coming up to him. "I'm hearing some stories I don't like, and I think you and I need to have a conversation about them." She pulled him into what she knew was an empty room—Donna's empty room. When Mallory had realized Josh was erringly blaming himself, she had asked Donna if she could borrow her room to knock some sense into Josh.
Josh didn't know of any way to bow out of the discussion without making her night worse, so he went along with her. "Okay."
As soon as the door was shut behind her, Mallory began to speak. "It's not your fault Josh. I don't blame you."
"How can you not blame me?" Josh cried. "I got him to join the ticket. He should have been at home, not out on a rigorous campaign schedule taxing his body."
"Give it up Josh. I've known you since we were kids, and you knew my dad that long as well. Even when we tag-teamed him, we never convinced him to do something he didn't already want to do. And really Josh, did you think he would sedately follow the campaign from Washington even if he hadn't joined the ticket?" She was quiet for a moment. "I'm actually very grateful for you. You gave him a remarkable gift. You gave him the gift of happiness up until the end. He got to do what he loved, instead of spending time wasting away. You gave him that happiness." She gave him a hug. "Let it go Josh."
Josh broke down crying again, this time in the arms of a childhood friend. "Okay," he said, after several minutes. "Okay, let's go down to the ballroom. It's time to celebrate. Leo would be pissed as hell at all of us crying like this. He'd be thrilled that we won, and it's time we celebrated like it."
Together they walked down to the ballroom, a united front against the grief of loss. "Oh, and Josh. In the coming days, after we've dealt with some of the shock, you're going to explain why I saw several items of your clothing scattered about Donna's floor."
