Author: Coffeeplease
Rating: R (Character Death, language)
Category: Heavy angst, adult themes, tragedy and
melodrama. Not for the kiddies. AU
Spoiler: Everythings game up to Impact Winter
Disclaimer: John Wells, Aaron Sorkin, NBC, WB... I
have nothing to give you. I gain nothing from this.
Please have mercy.
E-mail address: jamhandy1@...
Archiving permission: Sure, just tell me before you
do.
Notes: Thats it for the melancholy. Next thing I
writes going to have bunnies hopping in a field of
gold. Thank you to everyone who gave feedback. This
one may be a little hard to follow at times, but I
think you get the gist of it in the end. Joshs life
without (or with) Donna.
It would be a lie to say that Josh Lyman never enjoyed
life again after Donna Moss died. There were good
times, good moments, freeing moments. Watching Charlie
grow into a skilled political animal, as good, if not
better, than Josh was. Andy sent pictures of the kids,
Abbey the grand kids and Josh would file them away
meticulously. He had become a neat freak since she had
died. He had had more time to concentrate on these
things.
Leo, C.J. (after they had reconciled), the Bartlets,
everyone would approach him once every few years with
a woman they had in mind. A friend of friend, smart,
funny beautiful and it would be casual, drinks and
dinner, no pressure. He smiled a small smile and
looked down at his shoes. They knew it was futile. He
would always say no.
He had chosen the life of a monk. He had chosen to
remain celibate, for many reasons. Sometimes to prove
her last words wrong, that he had loved her, had
wanted her. He also supposed it was a way of remaining
faithful to something that never was. But he also knew
he was desperately afraid to love again. Years passed
and he was too old to get back on the horse, anyway.
It was the wrong horse.
He drank far too much for anyones liking, especially
Leos.
But the years had not been cruel, had not been bad in
Joshs mind. Only futile. Early on, despair had pushed
him to the brink of sanity, perhaps well around the
bend. He had held razors in his hand, pills in his
backpack and once at her grave had promised he would
be with her soon and had cut at himself. But he
couldnt follow her like that. She had told him to go
on living. And he was never so angry with her that he
couldnt honor that request.
He followed her in other ways. He had become neat and
celibate. Every year, on both their anniversaries, he
went to the Hawk and Dove and wrote a letter to her.
Some years, the letter would be twenty pages long and
he would have had six beers before getting to the end,
where every year he confessed his love for her, begged
her to wait for him wherever she was. Later in life,
the letters became more morose, as he pictured his own
final end. The begging grew more insistent.
She was not with him every moment, but she arrived at
some point everyday. The tall blond he saw outside
Starbucks. Seeing Wisconsin cheese in the grocery
store. Whenever he put a stamp on a letter. Red
dresses and birds tapping on windows.
The tactile reminders alone kept her close, but Joshs
own daydreams kept her closer. Late nights were spent
in his armchair, his eyes partially closed,
half-dreaming and half-pretending that it had never
actually happened. She hadnt quit, she hadnt died,
they had finished out the second term together.
At one of the many good-bye soirees, both large and
small, Josh thrust into Donnas hands a letter he had
written at the Hawk and Dove some years before, the
night she had gone off with Jack Reese to the inn.
Donna fingered the paper nervously and asked him if
she should read it here or wait until later. Josh had
just shrugged his shoulders, somewhat nervously.
The booth commandeered by Toby, C.J., himself and
Donna was empty at the moment. C.J. was in the midst
of her finest Jackal and Toby was blowing smoke
rings and pretending to play the bongos. Donna slid
into the booth and opened the letter. Nervously, Josh
stuffed his hands in his pockets and pretended to
watch C.J. He tried to keep from glancing back and
failed miserably.
Donnas expression was completely neutral for the
longest time. Neutrally breathtaking, Josh thought.
After she had gotten to the second page, her lips
curled into a smile and Josh finally exhaled. What he
had wanted, what she had wanted... it was finally
going to come together. He didnt have the courage to
speak it yet, but he knew, he had always known.
Neither Josh nor Donna had noticed the club still to
silence when their lips finally met that night. But
the round of applause and catcalls ten minutes later,
when they broke for a breath, was deafening.
Eight and a half years in the making, baby!! C.J.
had shouted as she thrust her grasshopper into the air
(and all over herself.)
Leo beamed. Thats probably the best thing to come
out of the Bartlet administration.
Toby followed up, cigar firmly in mouth. Donna, you
should have done that years ago. Kept him from
talking!
Donna blushed and both of them were grinning like
idiots. Their friends continued to party, to find
release and let go of all the stress. Josh and Donna
huddled in the booth, speaking softly and kissing,
sometimes gently, sometimes passionately. Every thirty
minutes or so, Toby would shout out Get a room, but
he never meant it badly. They were drunk and they were
giddy.
I think you should have said screw the
administration, screw the rules, this is true love and
gotten a room.
He had run into Toby about ten years after her death
in a small cafe in New York. Josh was advising an
aspiring state Senator on a run for the U.S. senate
and was just staying a couple days. Toby and Andy had
moved there sometime ago and it had been so awkward
and painful just to see Tobys face that Josh almost
ran out of the place.
I think... Josh looked down at his coffee. I think
I should have done that, too. God, if theres anything
I regret most...
Of course, Toby folded his hands. At the time, I
would have killed you if you had done anything like
that. Anything even remotely like that.
C.J. would have had my balls in a jar.
C.J. probably would have had to wait in line, Toby
took a swig of his coffee. It would have gotten to
the press, Donnas name would have become a synonym
for slut, you would have broken about eighty-three
ethical rules and, you know, it would never have been
a fair relationship as long as you were her boss, but
at the same time... it probably would have been worth
it. Not probably, it definitely would have been worth
it.
And it would have been. Josh sank deeper into his
armchair, hand curled around a prescription bottle,
pretending to remember. He took Donna home from the
end of term party. She had been a bit bashful, naked
in front of him the first time. He asked if they were
going too fast. She had smiled.
Like C.J. said, eight years in the making, baby.
Making, baby. They had never really determined if it
had been that night or another night. Donna claimed it
was a Saturday morning, he had brought coffee and the
Post to bed. He thought it had to have been the first
night and fate was just chastising them for taking so
long. At first, neither of them knew what to say or
do. It was silence for ten whole minutes staring at a
piece of plastic.
Whatever you choose to do... I mean, Ill support...
I mean, its your choice but Id be, Id be very happy
to have it, but I dont want to influence you.
Donna cocked her head at him. I definitely want to
take your opinion into account, Josh. Jesus, this
affects you just as much as me. She smiled. Well,
for the next nine months, not so much.
Well, the kids half mine, so hell probably
overachieve and come out in seven.
Taxing Joshs patience, the kid came out in nine
months and a week. In the delivery room, Josh threw
up, nearly fainted and promised the kid lifetime Mets
tickets if he would stop hurting his mother so. Donna
had told him, alarmingly calm, that he was never
allowed to touch her again.
Later, with the baby nestled between them, she had
assured him she hadnt meant it.
She never meant what she said, Josh.
Leo was over, looking so old he resembled Yoda. He
walked with a cane now and had set it gently on the
sofa. Josh swirled the soda water in his cup. He
didnt drink around Leo, didnt want the questions.
Leo continued with his thought. You werent the
reason she killed herself. People... Romeo and Juliet
is just a play, people dont kill themselves because
they love someone they think doesnt love them back or
whatever it was. She was depressed after Germany. She
had survivors guilt. She had PTSD. The only thing
that were all to blame for is not seeing the signs,
not paying close enough attention.
But if anyone should have seen the signs, Josh
retorted, it should have been me. I should have been
there for her, more then I was. God, I was so wrapped
up in work. I was so wrapped up in myself... Im
still... just wrapped up in myself.
The old man across the room leaned forward. Youre
too old to change that now, Josh. The most tragic
thing to me about Donnas death is that she would have
been able to change that. She would have made you see
that there is more to life then politics.
Joshs eyes grew watery. It still was so hard for him.
She did, Leo, God she did. But Im still.... my life
beyond politics is her. It still is. I still... feel
like I have a life with her.
You have a memory...
No! No, its not a memory... Josh didnt want to
admit too much. He didnt want to admit that they had
three children and she had finished her degree. Didnt
want to admit that he knew exactly where the swear jar
in the kitchen was, had coached three summers of
Little League and had argued with Donna over the cut
of their daughters prom dress.
Leo almost told him not to remember what never was,
but they were both too old and tired. To rewind time,
Leo thought, but it was a frivolous thought anyway.
He died a year later.
The fantasy had became real one night. Josh came into
his bedroom and was shocked to find Donna reading all
the Hawk and Dove letters he had written, glancing at
all the faces of the children, now grown. The bed was
a mess of paper. Her hair was streaked with gray and
reading glasses were perched at the end of her nose.
She looked up at him.
You cut at your cheeks.
Josh found his voice came easy. You said you loved
the dimples. That they helped you get through the day.
Since.... I didnt want anyone else to see them
anymore.
You changed.
Couldnt be helped.
Donna put the letter in her hand down. No, I guess it
couldnt. Josh, I didnt think that me ending my life
would affect you so much. If I had known then, I would
have done things differently.
As would I.
Donna smiled. Josh feasted like a hungry man. He was
well aware that he remained rooted in one place. She
crawled across the bed towards him and stood up. For
instance, I would never have let you interrupt The
Jackal for me to read one of these letters.
Couldnt be helped.
Tears were streaming down his cheeks.
She touched his cheek with her hand. Dont cry
anymore Josh. Youve been crying for thirty years now.
Actually, youve been crying most of your life, since
Joanie died. And you cried for your father and you
cried for me and most of all, you cried for yourself.
And Im sick of the tears and the misery. Im here now
and Im sorry that I left you.
It wasnt true, Josh choked out. It wasnt true,
what you wrote.
I know.
Josh half-laughed, half-sobbed, shaking his head. I
really wish you hadnt left me.
She bit her lip. Couldnt be helped.
He looked at her, at the laugh lines around her eyes.
Still breathtaking. It really couldnt have been
helped? Or was there something I should have said,
something I should have done?
There probably was, Donna sighed. But its over.
And it was my choice. A stupid choice, given that you
would have coached our son to such Little League
glory, but neither you nor I can take it back now.
I love you, He finally stopped crying.
I love you, too. And you know what?
What?
She kissed his cheek, right above the scar. Now we
can be together.
The meaning of her words took hold about a minute
later. But they were out the door, headed to the Hawk
and Dove, long before paramedics even arrived.