Thanks again to my betas, HarmonyLover and chai4anne…
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Josh found himself breathing hard as he and Matt trudged through the forest. At the moment, they were walking near the edge of a steep, narrow ravine as they made their way in what they hoped was the direction of the road. Being so close to the steep slope was making him a little nervous, but it was the only path they'd found where the brush and undergrowth weren't too thick for them to push through. They'd been hiking for about half an hour. Josh wasn't sure exactly how far they'd gotten; the GPS continued to warn that its signal was weak, so its readings weren't likely to be all that accurate. The cold rain/snow mix had turned to all snow, and it was quickly covering the forest in a blanket of white and making every surface slippery. Josh allowed himself a glance around at the newly snow-covered trees. It would actually have been a breathtakingly beautiful scene, if he weren't too cold, tired, and frightened to enjoy it. His clothes were soaked from the earlier rainstorm, and now felt like ice against his body. His overcoat was wool, which enabled it to retain some warmth, but it was far too thin for conditions such as these. It was meant to keep him reasonably warm and dry for quick hops from the campaign bus to buildings, not for spending any length of time outdoors in a snowstorm.
As he walked, his mind began to wander to a topic that was rarely far from his consciousness: Donna. People must know the plane was missing by now. He knew it was pathetic and self-pitying, but he couldn't help it: he wondered how she was reacting to the news. In his fantasies, he imagined she was frantic, that despite her recent anger at him she was desperate to find something, anything she could do to aid in the rescue of the plane, even though of course there wasn't anything she could do. If he were in an accident, she wouldn't stop for red lights; that was what she'd said, right?
But that had been years ago. So much had changed since then. He didn't know exactly what she'd meant by that remark at the time, whether she'd just meant she cared for him and was grateful that he'd taken her back after she'd run off with Dr. Freeride, or if it was something more than that. But whatever it was, she'd made it clear that she didn't feel it anymore. He didn't blame her. After Gaza, he was amazed she'd ever even been able to stand to look at him again. It was certainly no wonder that any affection she might once have had for him, whether romantic in nature or otherwise, would have been extinguished after he'd nearly gotten her killed.
He'd been so stupid, so incredibly stupid, sending her there, to one of the most dangerous regions on the planet. She'd asked for career advancement, and he'd thought that would fit the bill: substantive policy experience that she could put on her résumé to help her qualify for higher-level positions once the administration was over. It had never occurred to him that she'd meant she wanted out of her current job before then. Well okay, it had occurred to him once or twice, but the thought had been so unimaginable that he'd pushed it out of his mind whenever it surfaced. But in any case, he'd been completely blindsided by the way things had ended.
He knew she'd had a right to be annoyed with him over the canceled lunches, of course. But that didn't come close to explaining why she'd left the way she had, not bothering to give him two weeks' notice or even a formal letter of resignation. Of course he'd thought she was kidding when she'd matter-of-factly informed him at the end of the day that she wouldn't be back the next morning: who did that?
His efforts to rationalize her actions, to figure she must have gotten a job offer she couldn't refuse and which she had to start immediately, had been dashed when he'd heard through the grapevine a few days later that she'd had a job interview with the Vice President's office. An interview. She hadn't had a new job lined up yet. Her old one had apparently just gotten so miserable she couldn't stay at it another day. And every word she'd spoken to him since her departure had confirmed the message: he was nothing to her, nothing except an annoying former boss from a job she now despised.
People move on. That had been Leo's casual, offhand explanation when Josh had told him, fighting tears, that Donna had quit. It had barely seemed to occur to Leo that it would bother Josh all that much. And why should it have? People moved on from other people who had once mattered to them all the time. Just because Josh had never figured out how to do it didn't mean it wasn't normal.
He didn't leave people. Amy had told him once that Donna had said that about him, and he supposed it was true. Even when he had no choice but to leave them physically, he couldn't leave them emotionally. Nearly forty years after Joanie's death, he still thought about her almost every day. He still thought about his dad almost every day, too. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that leaving Hoynes for Bartlet had been the right decision, but he still had to suppress a pang of guilt every time he looked at the former Vice President. And then there was Amy. He'd definitely been physically attracted to her, and he'd respected her intelligence and enjoyed sparring with her on political strategy. But he was pretty sure he'd never loved her, and completely sure she'd never loved him. But he hadn't left her. He'd hung on, trying to salvage the relationship even when he knew there was nothing much left to salvage, until she'd finally done them both a favor and called it quits.
And Sam. Josh vividly remembered how stunned and confused he'd been when his best friend had told him he wasn't coming back to the White House after losing in the California 47th. Before Sam had accidentally gotten himself into that race, he'd given no indication whatsoever that he was unhappy with his White House position. But he'd said that being out of DC had given him some much-needed perspective, and he'd realized he needed a break from the whole scene. Josh had told him he understood, but he hadn't, not really. He'd missed Sam terribly over the past few years; the White House had never quite felt the same without him. Other than Donna, Sam had been the only person Josh had felt he could completely count on to be in his corner when things got tough. His friend's supportive phone calls after the Carrick debacle had been nice, but it wasn't the same as actually having him there. At least he'd had Donna then. Now he didn't have either one of them.
Maybe it was these confusing, painful thoughts running through his head and distracting him. Or maybe it was the weather, and the snow that was covering the ground and making it almost impossible to see where solid footing was, as opposed to loose soil and debris that would give way if stepped on. Or maybe it was his still-throbbing head. Most likely, it was a combination of all three. But whatever it was, he stepped in the wrong place and felt his foot slipping. The next moment, he was falling into the ravine, feeling a sharp, agonizing pain in his leg as it slammed against a rock on the way down.
"Josh!" Matt, who was walking a few steps ahead of him, turned around at the sound of the fall. He lunged forward to grab him, but instead lost his own footing and began to fall as well. Within seconds, they were both at the bottom of the ravine.
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Dazed, Josh tried to pick himself up from the forest floor, letting out an involuntary cry as fresh pain shot through his leg.
"Are you okay?" asked Matt, who had landed a few feet away from him.
There was no point in trying to put up a brave front. "I'm pretty sure my leg's broken."
Matt helped him into a sitting position, and Josh leaned back against the trunk of a tree that was growing along the side of the ravine, stretching his leg out in front of him. He realized that the cold of the snow actually felt good against it. He closed his eyes momentarily, feeling dizzy. Thankfully, he hadn't hit his head again, but the fall had still been disorienting.
Josh glanced over at the congressman. He had noticed that Matt had seemed to be favoring his left arm when he'd helped him up, and now saw that the congressman's right wrist was rapidly beginning to swell. "Your wrist."
"Hit it on something on the way down," Matt explained with a shrug. He sat down beside Josh. "Now what do we do?"
Josh fished the GPS out of his pocket. It appeared to be undamaged. He handed it to Matt. "You have to climb out of here and get to the road. I don't think it's that much farther."
"I don't want to leave you here by yourself."
"Well, I can't really hike with my leg."
Matt rolled his eyes. "I realize that. I mean I think I should stay here with you."
Josh sighed in exasperation. "What the hell good is it going to do anyone to have both of us sitting here and freezing?"
Matt paused and looked at Josh for a moment. As much as he hated the idea of leaving the injured man alone in the snow, he knew Josh was right. The best thing he could do for him was to get to the road and get help as quickly as possible.
"Yeah, you're right." He sighed and got to his feet, noting their location on the GPS. Then he took off his overcoat and handed it to Josh.
"You'll need that," Josh objected.
"You'll need it more. I'll be walking. I'll be fine."
"Congressman-"
"Come on, Josh. You won't even call me 'Matt' when we're stuck in the woods after a plane crash?"
"Not this argument again."
Matt sighed. "Okay. Look, just sit tight. I'll be back with help as soon as possible."
Matt began walking along the side of the ravine, trying to find a spot to climb out. But the forested wall was steep, and covered with wet, snow-coated leaves and debris, making it impossible to find footholds. He found a few spots that looked promising, where there was a tree root or other object he could grab onto, but with his injured wrist, those efforts failed.
He began walking along the ravine, hoping maybe he could simply follow it all the way to the road. But after about a hundred feet, he encountered a large tree and its root system which had come down, probably several years ago in a storm, blocking the path. New growth had formed along the sides and at the top of the tree. Matt tried to scale the blockage, but again he was unsuccessful.
After a few more failed attempts to climb out of the ravine, Matt returned to Josh. "I think we're stuck here," he reported with a sigh. "If I hadn't hurt my wrist, I'd probably be able to scramble out, but as it is…"
Josh groaned, burying his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry, congressman. This is all my fault. I got distracted. I slipped. You were probably right; I probably never should have come."
Matt shook his head, sitting down next to Josh. "If I hadn't crashed the damn plane, none of us would be in this mess in the first place."
"It wasn't your fault," Josh insisted. "The engine failed. And you landed the plane, under awful conditions. Don't think as soon as we're rescued I'm not going to be telling the media all about how you're a hero who saved all our lives."
A tight smile formed on Matt's face. "You must be pretty confident about our chances of being rescued if you're already figuring out how to spin this to the press."
"Just…you know, trying to think positive," Josh explained, his voice trailing off slightly as he ran a hand through his wet hair, shaking off some of the snowflakes. "Besides, they'll find us. How hard can it be? I mean, there are only so many places the plane could have crashed, right?"
Matt gazed up at the sky. The low clouds and thickening snow would certainly complicate the search effort. "I hope you're right."