Comfort from One You Trust…Priceless

The "What a Shame" file seems to spark Josh's interest a bit. He's leafing through it as I step out to answer my phone.

It's Leo, he wants to see me. Words can't describe how little I want to see him right now. But I don't think I have a choice.

"Josh, I'll be back in a few minutes. You ok?" He nods a little and waves me off.

Margaret's waiting for me with a sad look on her face. "Go on in."

Leo's at his desk reading when I step in the room. I cough a little to make my presence known.

"Donna, come on in, sit." God, the last thing I want to do it sit and chat with Leo. But I do it. "How's Josh?"

How the hell do you think he is? That's what I want to say. "Fine," is what comes out. One emotion free syllable.

"Really?"

I just stare for a few seconds before I lose it, "No Leo, he's not fine. He's hanging on by a thread. He looks like someone just ran over his puppy. I don't think he's slept in 3 days. I'm seconds away from calling Stanley Keyworth. And you know what hurts him the most?"

"I think I do," whispers Leo with the smallest hint of shame in his voice.

"Yes, you do. Now, is there anything I can help you with? Because if not I'm going to try and get him out of here, get him a decent meal and shove a sleeping pill down his throat." Leo just stares at me, probably because I'm about to take Josh home and put him to bed and it's only a little after 2 in the afternoon. "Leo, I'm sorry...I shouldn't..."

"Don't. Just...just get him out of here. Have him work from home tomorrow."

"He's not going to go for that."

"Don't tell him I said to. Just...I don't know...do something. He needs some rest."

"Fine." I start to say something else but I stop myself.

"Donna, what were you going to say?" Leo asks as I turn the knob.

"Nothing." I was going to tell him that Josh needs to know that he cares, if he cares, but I decide against it. I just want to get Josh out of here.

**************************

"Come on, let's get out of here." I pull my feet off the window sill and turn around. Apparently Donna's back from where ever she went.

"Sure, it's not like I'm doing anything anyway."

"Bring the file, we can sort through it later," she says in an overly cheerful voice. She's trying the best she can to keep me together, and I love her for it, but I don't know how long she can keep it up.

"Where'd you go?"

"Leo wanted to see me," she says with a sigh as she hands me my bag and turns out the lights. "In a completely round about way I think he was trying to make sure you're ok."

"I doubt it," I mutter as I brush past her and head out into the bullpen. Leo probably just wanted to get rid of me for the day.

The walk to my place is quick. Donna lets me brood in silence and I'm grateful for it. I'm not in the mood to talk. I don't know what I'm in the mood to do. I think I'm hungry but haven't had much luck keeping anything down so far today, so much for Donna's white food theory. Let's just say, cottage cheese pretty much looks the same the second time around. Maybe eating is not such a good idea.

I'm still debating what I feel like doing when we arrive at my place. I drop my bag on the bench and kick off my shoes as Donna turns on the lights and heads to the kitchen. I collapse on the couch.

"Josh, you want some tea?"

"Yeah, maybe that'll stay down," I mutter without thinking. Crap, wrong thing to say. I didn't mention my earlier dash to the men's room to Donna. She's in the living room within seconds, so much for hoping she didn't hear me.

"You got sick this morning? How many times?" she asks in that worried voice as she reaches to feel my forehead.

"Just once. The cottage cheese...not such a great idea."

"You're not running a fever. What else did you eat?"

"Nothing."

"Do you want to try to eat something?"

"I can't," I whine.

Donna sits down next to me and puts her arm around me. I hesitate before letting my head drop to her shoulder. It's not that I don't want to curl up on the couch with her, it's just that I'm not ready to fall apart yet. I've done a pretty good job of holding myself together for the last 5 days, other than my tirade at the Capitol. But we can blame that on my sensitive system.

"What do you want to do?" she asks as she rests her cheek against my hair. I just shrug my shoulders. I honestly have no idea what I want, or what I need. The kettle whistles and Donna presses a kiss to my temple before getting up off the couch.

"I think I'll take a bath."

"Good. Use the cranky baby bubbles," Donna calls over her shoulder. "I'll bring the tea in to you in a minute."

"Thanks."

********************

I don't think I've felt this helpless since Josh first woke up in the ICU. I don't know how to help him. I don't know if what I've been doing for the past few days is helping or not. It must be doing something, glancing around at the windows they all seem to be intact. There haven't been any tears, but I'm sure he's done all he can to keep them inside. But knowing him as I do, I know he needs to let some things out. Holding everything in is not good for him. Sends his blood pressure through the roof.

"Donna, I'm covered," he calls from the bathroom. I grab the mug of tea and head down the hall. He's in the tub, bubbles up to his chin, head resting back on the edge of the tub. The dark circles under his eyes seem to getting worse by the hour. He's been steadily losing weight since Zoey's kidnapping and it's really beginning to show. I really don't know how much more he can take.

"Here, be careful it's hot." I say as I hand Josh the tea and kneel next to the tub.

"Thanks."

He takes a few sips and hands it back as he sinks even deeper under the water. His eyes are closed, giving me a chance to take a closer look at him. "Death on a Triscuit" doesn't begin to describe how awful he looks. I think he could sleep for 3 straight days and still not look well-rested.

"Donna, you're staring," he mutters as he cracks on eye open.

"Sorry. You don't look well and I'm just really worried about you," I say as I reach over to brush his hair back.

"I know. And I'm not going to lie and say I'm fine. I'm not. And I know it."

I just nod. I'm not sure how to respond. "Why don't you soak for a while and I'll see if I can find something that you might be able to keep down."

"Yeah there's stuff in the fridge."

Ten minutes later and I've come to the conclusion that Josh has been having trouble keeping food down for a while now. The contents of his refrigerator include 6 cans of ginger ale, some plain white rice from the Chinese take out place and some vanilla pudding. A quick glance in the freezer and I find lemon water ice and a box of popsicles. I set a cup of lemon ice out on the counter to thaw a little.

While Josh finishes his bath I pull out his favorite blue pajamas for him and change into some sweats I steal out of his bottom drawer. I start to toss the various pieces of his dirty clothes in a pile so I can do a load of laundry. Peeking out from under the bed is a pair of panty hose.

Eww, Amy's.

I kick them under the unmade bed. Realizing there is a pretty good chance I'm going to end up in bed with Josh sometime tonight I have the urge to change the sheets. Something tells me he hasn't exactly had the time to change them in the last four nights and I'm not sleeping on sheets that SHE slept on. Josh comes into the room as I'm in the middle of stripping the bed.

"Hi. I thought I'd just change the sheets. I didn't know when you..." God, I'm making an idiot out of myself.

"Donna. Breathe. Clean sheets would be nice," he says with a grateful look on his face. "Pajamas?" he whines as he spots them on the chair. "It's 3 in the afternoon."

"And you're going to bed. Deal with it."

He chuckles wearily and grabs the pajamas before disappearing back into the bathroom.

***********************

Pajamas?

Pajamas?

It's the middle of the afternoon. But I really do just want to crash on the couch. Or the bed, now that Donna's putting clean sheets on. Truth is, I've spent the last 5 nights on the couch. Didn't have the energy to make up the bed. Not that I've been sleeping very much.

I make the mistake of looking in the mirror after I put in my pajamas and run my hands through my hair. God, I look like crap.

"Josh, you ok in there?"

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute."

Donna's sitting in the recliner when I get out in the living room. She is flipping through the "What a Shame" file. "Do you want to take a look at this?" I shake my head and curl up on the couch. I pull the quilt over me, click on the television and peel the top from the lemon ice.

I eat a couple of bites before my stomach starts to protest. Donna's trying to act like she's not keeping an eye on me but she keeps glancing over. I try to focus on the television but my eyes keep going to my hands. They are shaking; I mean visibly shaking as I try to hold the spoon. I try to convince myself that it's because of the cold cup but I know that's not the truth.

"Josh, what's wrong?" Donna asks as she tossed aside the files and joins me on the couch. I put the spoon and the cup on the table and show her my hands. She takes them in hers and holds them tight. As I feel myself start to shake all over I pull away and curl into a ball in the corner of the couch. I'm not ready to fall apart. I don't say a word yet Donna understands my need to be alone. She pulls the quilt up around me and kisses my forehead. She turns off the television and motions toward the CD player. I just shake my head. I know I can't handle music right now. I can't handle much at the moment.

"Sleep. I'll be right here if you need me," she whispers as she gets up off the couch.

********************

Josh has been tossing and turning for over an hour. I've been trying to keep my distance, not smother him but I'm about ready to grab the bottle of sleeping pills. I want to go check on him but I know he wants space right now.

"Donna, you still here?"

"Where else would I be Joshua?" I tease as I start to sit on the coffee table. Josh moves over a little to give me some room on the couch. As long as he's offering, I'll accept. He rolls over onto his left side to face me. I rub his back for a minute trying to get him to relax. I can feel him shaking. "Josh, what can I do for you?" He silently shrugs his shoulders, the tears in his eyes let me know just how close to the edge he really is. And I don't know if I should try and reel him back in or say something to send him over the edge and let him get it all out. I think it's time he got it all out. "Josh, just let it go," I whisper as I lean over and rest my forehead against his. That's all it takes for the tears to start. I scoot to the end of the couch and pull him back against me. He sobs like I've never heard him sob before. I can't even think of words to whisper to him. He tries to speak a few times but doesn't get too many words out and what he does get out doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

Ten minutes have passed and I'm still waiting for the sobs to stop. They've slowed a little and Josh has managed to blow his nose but that's about it. He's still shaking like a leaf and on the verge of hyperventilating. "Josh, you're going to make yourself sick. Take a deep breath." He's trying to calm down, he really is but it's a struggle. His breathing finally slows and becomes deep and deliberate. And from experience I know what usually comes next. "Josh, come on, let's go into the bathroom."

"No, I'm ok," he whispers as he pulls away from my embrace and sits with his head in his hands. I rub his back and he finally settles down.

It's almost 5 now and Josh is finally asleep. It's the restless sleep that comes from too much stress but at least he's getting some rest. I've organized the "What a Shame" file and put in a load of laundry. There's not much around in the kitchen for dinner but I doubt Josh will be very hungry. If he is, we can order out.

Phone. Damn, Caller ID tells me it's Leo's cell phone.

"Hello Leo," I answer as I glance over to the couch. Leo's lucky; the ringing phone didn't wake Josh.

"Donna. Is Josh there?"

"Yes."

"May I speak with him?"

"He's asleep." I answer flatly. There’s no way I'm telling Leo that Josh basically cried himself to sleep. That would make him feel guilty. And will I want him to feel guilty I want him realize his guilt himself. OK, that didn't make a whole lot of sense, but I know what I mean.

"Oh," Leo mutters and then clears his throat a bit. It's almost like I can picture Margaret standing in front of him urging him to try and apologize or something. "Do you think I could come over later?" he grovels.

No way in hell. "I don't think that would be a good idea. I gave him a sleeping pill and I expect he'll sleep through the night," I lie.

"Sleep through the night? It's only 5."

"Leo, he's barely slept in 5 days. I'll tell him you called but I wouldn't sit by the phone if I were you," I say as I hang up. I'm actually shaking. I can't believe how bold I’ve been with Leo today. But honestly I am at the end of my rope. And not just with him. I'm at the end of my rope with most of the Democratic Party at the moment.

Phone, again. I'm thinking of turning the ringer off.

Caller ID tells me this time it's a friend, Sam.

"Hey, Sam."

"Hey Donna. Tried Josh at the office. Some kid answered."

"That's Ryan. He's the intern Josh doesn't want. He's growing on us."

"How's Josh?"

"Not good. He's asleep at the moment. I had to get him out of there."

"Things that bad?"

"Leo told him that nobody wants him around. I know he's the boss and everything but..."

"But he loves Josh and he's not showing it?" guesses Sam.

"Yeah. But I'm not making it easy. He wanted to come over and I told him no."

"That's fine. I'm sure he understands. And if he doesn't Margaret will explain it to him. When I talked to Josh yesterday morning he seemed to be holding things together. At least from what I could tell over the phone."

"He fell apart a while ago. More or less cried himself to sleep. He looks terrible, he hasn't been eating or sleeping..."

"Donna?"

"Huh?"

"How are you?

"I don't even know anymore," I sigh as I curl up in the recliner.

"You have to take care of yourself. You won't be any good to him if you don't."

"I know. Josh is starting to stir," I lie. I can't fall apart on the phone. "I'll tell him you called. I'm sure he'll give you a call later or tomorrow."

"Donna do you want me to fly out?"

"No, I think we're ok."

"OK. You take care of him...and yourself. I love you guys."

"We love you too, Sam." I click the phone off and reach for the box of tissues.

***********************

The room is dark and quiet when I finally wake. For a split second I don't see Donna and I'm afraid I'm home alone. Rubbing my eyes a bit I can see her sleeping form in the recliner. The clock on the VCR tells me it's a little after 7. A little over two hours sleep. Doesn't exactly make up for 5 nights worth of insomnia. My head is pounding, my stomach hurts and everything just aches. I lack the energy to actually get off the couch and grab some Advil and a can of ginger ale. I curl back up under the quilt and close my eyes again, hoping to just drift back to sleep.

**********************

The sound of the bathroom door closing wakes me a little before 8. I sit for a minute, hoping Josh is just using the bathroom.

No such luck. I grab the quilt and a can of ginger ale.

I slip into the room without knocking and kneel behind Josh, holding his head with one hand and rubbing his back with the other. "Shhh, it's ok. Relax." Like those words are really going to help him as he's throwing up the little bit he's eaten in the last few hours. But sometimes words just flow out, helpful or not. The dry heaving eventually stops and I hand him the soda. "Rinse and spit, don't swallow anything." He does as I say and finally sits back against the tub. I wrap him in the quilt and pull his head into my lap. He hasn't uttered a word since I came into the room, not that I expected him to be talking up a storm but he's said nothing. He's shaking and his teeth are chattering. Pressing my hand to his forehead I realize he's a little warm. "Josh, sit up for a minute, let me find the thermometer." He just nods and sits up. I hand him the thermometer as I wet a washcloth to wipe off his face.

"100.6," he mutters, speaking for the first time. He hands me the thermometer and pulls himself up to brush his teeth.

"You want to see if you can keep some Advil down?" I ask as I hand him the can of soda and pick up the quilt.

"No," he mutters as he staggers down the hall and collapses on the couch. I put the portable phone on the end table and sit down on the end of the couch, pulling his feet into my lap.

"Leo and Sam called," I mention as casually as possible.

"Let me guess, Leo wanted to come over to apologize," he snorts as he rubs his eyes.

"Well, he wanted to come over. I'm not sure about the other part. I really didn't give him a chance to say much," I admit with a chuckle.

"That's my girl," he says with a grin. "What did Sam say?"

"He just wanted to check up on you. He's worried. Wanted to make sure I was taking care of myself so I can take care of you. Said he loved us and offered to fly out."

"Please tell me you told him no," he groans.

"I did. But you should call him later. I think he needs to hear your voice. And I think you need to hear his," I add.

"I'll call him. Be nice to talk to someone I trust," he mumbles the last part but I catch it anyway.

"I'm guessing there are not too many people you trust right now?"

"You, Mom, Zoey, Toby and Sam," he counts, ticking off each name on his fingers. "That's about it," he sighs as he reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. He settles back down and curls up in a ball, signaling the end of our little conversation.

"Go back to sleep. I'm going to take a shower. Yell if you need anything." He nods a little before rolling over to face the back of the couch.

************************

The phone rings the moment Donna turns on the shower. Thank God for Caller ID. It's Toby. "So Toby, checking up on me?"

"Yes," he answers in a very uncharacteristically caring voice.

"Thanks."

"Did you get some sleep?"

"Couple of hours."

"Want some company," he offers sincerely. "I'm about done here."

"Donna's here."

"Then don't let me interrupt," he teases.

"Toby, the puking and the crying pretty much ruined any plans I may have had," I chuckle. I can tell Toby doesn't know how to react to that. "You can come over."

"I guess I shouldn't bring the pizza and beer," he says with a laugh.

"No. You can bring something for you and Donna to eat. I don't exactly have much around here."

"You sure you don't need anything, ginger ale, chicken soup?"

"Gatorade, orange."

"No problem. I'll be there in about half an hour."

"Good."

I hang up the phone and click on CNN, just want to make sure the world hasn't gone to hell in a hand basket this afternoon. I catch a glimpse of my own face on the screen and click it off in disgust. And the phone rings yet again.

Amy.

No way in hell am I talking to her. I let it go to the machine. She doesn't leave a message. I curl back up on the couch and wait for Donna to get out of the bathroom.

"Toby's coming over," I yell as I hear her go into my room, probably to steal some pajamas.

"Thanks for the warning."

***********************

I have second thoughts about putting pajamas on, knowing Toby's on his way. But my feelings of comfort win out over any thoughts of what looks right and what doesn't. At this point I don't really care how things look. And I also don't think Toby's really going to be looking at what I'm wearing. I hope he's bringing food, I'm really starting to get hungry and Josh's cabinets are looking pretty bare.

Josh is dozing lightly when I get out into the living room. I brush my hand against his forehead. He's still a little warm. "Hey," he mumbles, "Toby here yet?"

"Not yet."

"Who was that on the phone?"

"Amy."

"Oh," I mutter. "What did she want?"

"No idea, I didn't pick it up."

That's my boy, I think to myself as I turn on a few lights and pick the files up off the coffee table. I head into the kitchen to get myself something to drink. I'm in the middle of unloading the dishwasher when the doorbell rings. Josh hauls himself off the couch and answers it.

"Donna, Toby's here. And he brought dinner," Josh calls.

Toby, bless him, brought Boston Market chicken and 2 bottles of Gatorade. I quickly set the table while Josh and Toby unpack the food. Josh eats a little chicken and some mashed potatoes. Not a lot of food but at least it's something. The conversation is a little forced as Toby and I are trying to stay away from subjects that will upset Josh. And that cuts out a large number of things we usually talk about. I leave them to talk while I check my email on the computer in Josh's guestroom.

"Donna, I'm going to head out," Toby says as he pokes his head in a little after 11. I'm playing solitaire on the computer. He walks over to me as I stand up.

"Thanks for coming over Toby. It meant a lot to him. To both of us," I say as I kiss his cheek. He turns instantly red.

"What about tomorrow?"

"Leo wants him to stay home. I didn't even bother mentioning that to Josh. Whether he goes in or not needs to be his decision."

"I agree. Let me know if I can do anything. Talk to him, talk to Leo...whatever."

"Thanks. You're a good friend to him Toby. He needs that right now. He needs to know he has someone to trust."

"I know," mumbles Toby as he turns to leave. This rare display of emotion is clearly making Toby uncomfortable. "Bye," he calls over his shoulder.

I watch as he kneels down next to Josh, who's once again on the couch. He pats Josh's shoulder and quietly lets himself out the front door.

"Bedtime," I announce from the doorway.

Josh doesn't complain, instead he just gets up off the couch and heads for the bathroom. Not exactly the reaction I was expecting. He brushes his teeth and takes the Advil I hand him without a word. He collapses wearily on the bed, rolling over to the far side, leaving plenty of room for me to join him. That I was expecting.

"I'm going to lock up and turn out the lights. Be right back." I take my time, kind of hoping Josh will drift off. It's not that I'm against the idea of curling up with him in bed. I'm all for that happening but...I don't know...it's not something I can really put into words. But curling up with him isn't the healthiest thing, for either of us.

But as is my luck lately Josh is still wide awake when I get back to the bedroom. I glance at the alarm clock, he hasn't turned it on. I don't mention it as I turn out the light and crawl in to bed with him. He's quiet for a few minutes; I can tell he's trying to get his thoughts together. "Josh?" I whisper as I curl up on my side to face him.

"I don't know how much more I can take," he admits as he rolls towards me but still stays on his side of the bed.

For a few seconds, I don't know how to respond. "I'm not going to lie and tell you everything will be fine. I don't know if it will. But you know that whatever happens I'll be here. Always."

"I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do," he pleads, his voice conveying the misery I know he feels.

"The only thing I'm going to tell you to do is to stay safe. Do what feels right. You have health and strength, steal the rest."

"Do I?"

"Do you what?"

"Have health and strength?"

"Yes, you do. In here," I whisper as I put my hand over his heart. By the look on his face I can tell he's far from being convinced.

"Thank you," he whispers as he covers my hand with his.

"For what?"

"For trusting in me and for being someone I can trust," he whispers, his voice cracking as his eyes once again fill with tears.

"Come here." He scoots over next to me and curls up with his head on my shoulder. I kiss his cheek and hold him close.

"What should I do tomorrow?"

"I can't tell you what to do. You have to decide for yourself." I refuse to make a decision like that for him. I honestly don't know what I think about him staying home. On one hand, a day spent resting would be great for him. But is hiding from his problems a good idea, probably not.

"I'm going to stay home," he whispers as he rolls over to face away from me. He's afraid I'm going to be mad. But I'm not mad. I'm more worried than I have been all day. I'm worried he's about to give up.

And that terrifies me.

THE END

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