He almost ignores the phone vibrating in his pocket, but something compels him to pull it out and give it a quick glance. He is surprised when he sees the number, but immediately answers.

"Hello?"

"Josh?" Her voice is low and he can barely hear her.

"Donna?"

It's silent for a minute and the hair on the back of his neck stands up as he strains to figure out what is going on.

"Yeah. It's me." Her voice is still quiet and there is a lot of background noise. "I'm… um… I need some help." Her plea sounds shaky and desperate and he is immediately reaching for his keys, his feet taking him towards the door without a thought of anyone else in the room.

"Where are you? What's going on?" He manages to keep his voice low, hoping he sounds much calmer than he feels.

"Um, I. Oh god." She moans a little and he feels like he's going to fall apart if he doesn't get an answer soon. He needs more information. Like. Right. Now.

"Donna. Tell me where you are." He tells her emphatically, hoping a direct order will get through to her.

"I'm in the bathroom. . . . I think he put something in my drink. . . . I didn't want to go with him."

"Okay. Just stay where you are. But I need to know where that is. What bathroom are you in?"

While he waits for her response Josh starts considering his options. Who does he know that could trace her cell phone for a location? Should he try to call Will to see if he knows who Donna was with, or even more importantly where she might be? His suspicious mind immediately considers, then rejects Will as a suspect. He's not the guys biggest fan, but he seriously doubts that he'd resort to spiking an employee's drink.

"Donna? You still with me?" He stands by the rental car helpless, adrenaline flowing, anxious to act.

"It hurts." She whimpers, and he feels himself coming out of his skin.

"Donna, sweetheart, I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll make it stop hurting, but you have to tell me where you are. Did you go out to eat? Are you at a bar?"

"Yeah at the Hilton."

Thanking a god he barely believes in that they happen to be campaigning in the same city, he jumps into the car and races out of the parking lot. The fifteen minute drive across town is the longest of his life as he listens to her vomiting repeatedly. He just hopes that she's getting whatever it was completely out of her system.

When he arrives he rushes through the lobby, into the bar, and straight into the woman's bathroom.

When he spots her on the floor backed up against the wall, his heart almost breaks. Her hair is disheveled, her eyes puffy, and her nose red. She looks small and vulnerable and he wants to fix everything more than he's ever wanted anything.

"Hey." He offers softly when she doesn't say anything.

"Hey." She answers, eyes skittering away from his. "I'm sorry. I couldn't think. I didn't know who to call."

"Donna. You can always call me. You know that, no matter what."

"Okay." She responds, still looking away. Her chin quivers and he watches her take a couple deep breaths to steady herself. That's when he notices she's also holding her arm to her chest.

"Donna, what happened? Are you okay?"

She looks back at him and shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears. "I feel so stupid."

"Well, you're not. Just tell me so I can help."

"I was at a fundraiser. You know, . . . raising funds." She says a little slowly as he watches her closely to see how out of it she is.

"Bob's Boulders." She continues, her voice stronger. "That's a stupid name. . . . This guy . . . " she paused, "John . . . I bet that's not even his name."

She gives a hard little laugh, shaking her head, then gasps in pain. "Anyway, he said he'd like to talk a little more, offered to buy me a drink. He seemed nice enough. He was really turning on the charm, so once the event was over we came over to the bar. I kept trying to steer the conversation back to the Vice-President, but he just kept asking about me. I didn't notice that my drink tasted off until I was almost done and then when I stood up I felt really light headed. That's when I knew something was wrong. You know a whisky sour doesn't hit me that fast."

She looks at him for confirmation, and he quickly agrees.

"I know. You don't have a delicate system. You can hold your liquor." That gets a little smile from her and relieves him a little, but she's still on the floor, and she still doesn't look so hot.

"What happened next, Donna?"

"He was walking me out to his car and he said something about how much fun we were going to have and I panicked. When I stopped walking he grabbed my wrist and started to pull me along, but I broke free and ran in here. Then I called you, and I threw up."

"Yeah, I heard that. It's probably a good thing."

"I was really scared, Josh."

The tears spill over, running down her cheeks, and his heart hurts in ways that it hasn't in months. He just wants to gather her into his arms and soothe her, but she's still backed against the wall and doesn't seem inclined to move.

"I'm glad you called me. Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah, sort of. My head still hurts a little but I'm not as fuzzy."

"What about your wrist?" He gestures a little with his head and she follows his eyes down to the arm that she's still holding close to her body.

"It hurts too."

"Do you think you can get up? Can I take a look at it?"

She nods and shifts, getting her feet underneath her and using her good arm to push herself up. He holds the stall door open and tries to assist her as gently as possible.

"Do you feel okay? You're not going to pass out are you?"

"No. I don't think so."

"Do you want to splash some water on your face?" He asks, unsure exactly what she needs from him, but trying to focus on her rather than the feeling of ineptitude over the fact that once again, he didn't keep her safe.

As she reaches toward the faucets, he sees her grimace. "Here, let me just wet some paper towel for you."

He soaks some and then gently cleans her face and hands with them. The way you would a small child. Donna can't quite believe it. But then she remembers how he'd been in Germany. The memory pierces her. Reopening a wound that she'd been trying to close. Seeing him like this, nurturing and caring, just reminds her of how much she wanted his love, and how it seemed she'd never have it. She still hasn't figured out how to accept friendship and nothing more from him.

When he's done, he throws the paper towel away. "Okay. Let's go. We need to get to the emergency room."

"No, just take me back to my hotel, please."

"Donna! You were probably drugged. We need to get a tox screen. And I'm worried about your arm, which you still haven't let me see, but you're holding pretty gingerly."

"Josh. I can't. I can't make a thing about this. You know what this world is like."

"No. I don't. No one worth working for would want you to put yourself at risk. You aren't making it a thing. Someone hurt you." His voice breaks. " Please, just let me help you this time ."

For some reason, it's the pain in his voice that gets through to her. "Okay, Josh. You can take me to the ER."

The ride over is fairly silent. Donna closes her eyes and rests her head against the glass window, trying to block the swirling thoughts and emotions.

Josh drives quickly but carefully, watching both her and the road. Wondering if he should have called an ambulance, but knowing that she'd really have hated a fuss. Maybe they could slip in and out without the press finding out. He thinks about calling Will, or for that matter his own staff, just to let them know what's going on. But he decides against it. For once he's just going to do what's best for Donna, politics be damned.

The ER is quiet and they are quickly shown into a curtained room. He helps her off with her coat and seethes with anger when he sees the bruises on her forearm. When this is all over he wants to kick somebody's ass.

"Yeah." The nurse agrees. "We're going to want to x-ray that." She hands him a clipboard. "Fill this out. I'll be back in a few minutes."

He gets to work on the forms filling in the blanks while she watches, waiting for him to start asking questions about the info he doesn't know. It takes a few minutes, then he finally asks, "Same insurance company?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

He sets the form down and she's simply amazed to see everything else filled in. He knows her social security number?

"What did you mean?" She asks quietly after a few minutes of waiting in silence.

"When?" He asks, although he has a pretty good idea what she's talking about.

"When you said this time ."

Yep. He was right. That had slipped out and now he had to own it.

"I know I screwed up, okay. When you got back from Germany. I couldn't figure out how to help you. I hated seeing you in pain. I watched you struggle and I didn't know what to do. You were amazing while I was recovering after Rosslyn, and I was useless when it was my turn. I flew to Germany without stopping and it wasn't enough. My love for you just isn't enough!"

Her eyes are wide and his chest is heaving as they stare at each other while the weight of his words settle around them. As the dust clears and she's just about to speak, the curtain slides open and a perky intern pokes her head into the area.

"Donnatella Moss? I'm here to draw blood."

"That's me." Donna answers softly.

"Okay honey. Let's have you lie back. We don't need you toppling over."

Donna lies back, while Josh's eyes dart around frantically, looking to latch onto something other than technician's basket of supplies, and a little afraid to look into Donna's.

"You can step out if you'd like." The tech offers pleasantly, but Josh declines.

"No. I'd rather stay with her." He moves to the head of the bed and reaches down to grasp her free hand in his own, and managing to make eye contact. "I'd really like to stay this time, Donnatella. If it's okay."

She nods and he holds on, staring into her eyes while the nurse finishes her job.

"We'll send these to the lab and let you know." She says on her way out. And then it's just the two of them again. He doesn't move, but Donna's eyes flutter and close.

He really doesn't know what to say. He spilled his guts and now the ball is in her court. But she's possibly drugged out of her mind, and even if she's not, he isn't completely convinced that she doesn't hate him.

Every time they've run into each other on the trail it's been awkward. He wanted to say something to her but the timing never seemed right and the words never seemed to come. Hell, just last week he stood outside her door in Iowa hoping to think of something that would convince her to give him another chance.

"How'd you know where the nearest ER was?" Donna asks after a few minutes, opening her eyes and looking straight into his.

'Mrs. B sent me a list of the best hospitals at every campaign stop."

Donna grins. "She likes you."

He can't tell if she's loopy or trying to banter. But he's tired. Just once he'd like to take care of her and not feel like it was part of some never ending dramatic plot.

"Yeah. I guess so."

"I like you too."

"You do?" He sounds a little baffled. He's still not sure that she knows what she's saying. She's mostly coherent, but . . .

"And you're wrong."

"About what?"

"Your love would be enough."

They stare at each other for another minute. And just when he's worked up the nerve to ask her what that means, the nurse comes in to take her to x-ray. It's maddening.

As he sits there, an older lady comes in with another clipboard. "I need to ask you what happened to her."

Josh tells her what he knows, while she nods. Then she stares at him for a minute. She reminds him a little of Mrs. Bartlet.

"Did you put something in her drink?" She finally asks in a no-nonsense voice.

"No! I wasn't there." He insists. "I wouldn't do that to her. God. I l ove her."

The nurse nods again. "That's what she said too."

She turns to leave, but he calls out. "Wait. What'd she say?"

"She said it was someone else, you'd never do that to her."

"Right. She didn't say that I love her."

He shakes his head tiredly. The nurse's comment had gotten his hopes up. This would all be a lot easier if Donna already knew how he felt. The nurse comes back into the room and looks at him quizzically.

"No, but she knows that, right?"

"I'm not so sure."

"Well then, maybe it's time to tell her." The nurse offers practically, then leaves the room.

He spends the next twenty minutes trying to think what to say. He used the L-word. And then she said she liked him. Was she trying to let him down easy? To remind them that all they could ever be was friends? For the last few months he wasn't even sure they were friends anymore. But after tonight, he guesses at least maybe that question is clearer.

When she's wheeled back into the room her arm is in a light grey cast. The asshole broke her arm! Josh sees red.

"You have to press charges!" He bursts out.

"Can we talk about it tomorrow?" Donna begs, putting her other hand on her head.

"I'm sorry. Of course." He's instantly contrite. "Are you okay?"

"It's just a hairline fracture. The cast is precautionary."

"What about . . . ?"

"They haven't come back with the tox screen yet. And they don't want to give me anything for pain until they know what I already have in my system. But you were right. The nurse said it was probably a good thing that I vomited so much. That probably got rid of most of it."

He nods in understanding, pleased that she's sounding a lot more lucid.

"So now we wait."

"You don't have to wait with me, Josh. You can go if you want."

His heart sinks. It feels like Germany all over again, when he wanted to stay but she sent him back to work. But this time there's no one else in the room. And he just can't keep doing this, so he gathers his courage and speaks his mind.

"I don't want to leave. I want to stay with you. Do you want me to go?"

She shakes her head no. So he gives her a small smile and takes her hand again. She closes her eyes and seems to drift off, but he stays awake, watching over her.

After a while he speaks softly.

"I never know what to do next. You know, after you figure out you like someone. And with you it's even worse! I never wanted to be that sleazy politician hitting on his hot young secretary. I've always had all these feelings and I thought if I could just keep them firmly in the friend category that would be enough. Then Gaza happened and all I could think about was that if you died, my life wouldn't be worth living. Nothing I could ever do would make up for sending you on that stupid CODEL. Then when you came back you seemed so different. I couldn't figure out what to say or do. And I'm just sorry, okay. For all it. I'm just sorry. And I love you and I wish I could be what you want."

Tears start to leak out of the corners of her eyes and she opens them slowly. Her trembling lips are pursed together until she finally gets ahold of herself.

"Oh, Josh. What a pair we are. I've loved you for a long time, but I don't know how to be what you want either. And I'm just so very tired of this thing we're doing."

"What are we doing?"

"I don't know. Pretending like we don't matter to each other. Like all we ever were was friends. Like these jobs are the most important things in our lives."

"So what should we do?"

"I don't know. But this is a start isn't it?"

"Yes." He gives her hand a little squeeze and leans down and kisses her forehead. "Why don't you try to get a little sleep. When you wake up, I'll still be here."