Author: Michelle K. (CageyGrl@yahoo.com)

Rating: PG

Archive: If you want it, you may have it. Just tell me
first, please.

Summary: Sam and Donna talk about Josh in the waiting
room.

Disclaimer: Characters from "The West Wing" don't
belong to me. Instead, they are the sole property of
Aaron Sorkin, Warner Brothers Television and NBC. No
copyright infringement is intended and I am making no
money from this story.

Notes: This is in response to a challenge Cindy posted
a few weeks ago.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam sat there uncomfortably, fully feeling the silence
weighing upon him. He still couldn't believe Josh was
shot.

It didn't make sense. It didn't make sense for him to
be in a hospital, undergoing invasive operations. It
didn't make sense that any of them had been shot at.
The night had been going well.

And, now, Sam was sitting in a hospital waiting room,
not knowing if one of his best friends was going to
survive the night.

None of it made sense.

And then there was Donna, who was sitting next to him.
She hadn't said anything for an hour. She wasn't
crying. Maybe if she had been crying, Sam could feel
more comfortable. Crying he could handle. Crying
showed that she felt something. That she wasn't
emotionally shut down. If she were crying, he could
try to comfort her. But she just sat there without a
word, contributing to the heavy silence.

And it was the silence that left him at a loss. He
didn't know what to say, what to do. He didn't even
know what to think.

"Donna?" he ventured softly.

She didn't answer. She was staring at her hands,
seemingly engrossed in the stillness of her balled up
fists.

"Donna?" Sam said again.

This time, she looked up at Sam. Her eyes conveyed
pure terror, but she tried to conceal her emotions
with her steady voice. "Yes, Sam?" Donna replied
evenly.

"Are you alright?" he asked. The question was somewhat
idiotic considering the circumstances, but it was all
he could think of.

"Think about it, Sam. Do you think I'm alright? Just
take a moment and use your brain. Although I know that
might be new for you." she replied sharply. She
regretted what she said immediately, but didn't take
it back. She just stared at him, hoping her expression
would say it all.

Sam cleared his throat, and stared back at her. "I
think you're going through hell. Just like I am." He
then broke eye contact, deciding to stare at the wall.


Donna breathed deeply, trying to keep from crying.
When Josh woke up (which she had to believe he would,
if she wanted to retain her sanity) he didn't need to
see puffy red eyes staring back at him. "Well, you're
right," Donna replied, softening her tone from the
harshness of her previous outburst. "And I know this
can't be easy for you, either."

Sam looked at her again. "No. Things like this aren't
ever easy when you care about someone." He paused.
"But I think Josh will be fine."

"You don't know that," she added softly. "People die
all the time. People who have families, friends...have
people who love them...people who need them. It's
possible that he could..." Donna didn't finish the
sentence, leaving the implication to hang in the air.

Sam looked at Donna. He realized that she needed Josh
to wake up. And he realized that he needed him to wake
up, too. Josh was his friend. And to Donna, he
surmised, he was so much more. "Donna...Can I tell you
a story?"

"A story?" Donna said with a small smile. "O.k."

"It's about my grandfather and my grandmother."

"Uh huh," she replied, interested to see why Sam was
suddenly dusting off old family stories.

"Well, they were high school sweethearts. Loved each
other desperately. They got married right out of
school, settled down, had three children."

"Sam..."

"This story does have a point, I swear. They had been
married fifteen years when my grandfather was
attacked. He was walking home from the store, when he
saw a couple fighting. It was just sort've a routine
argument. Yelling, accusations, normal bickering.
Then, the man just hauled off and punched the woman in
the face. And my grandfather can't stay out of it now.
He always had that desire to protect people, even
strangers. That's just how he was. So he goes up to
the man, says something like 'Leave her alone.' The
man doesn't really care. He grabs his girlfriend by
the arm, begins dragging her away. And my grandfather
sees the fear in this girl's eyes..." Sam paused,
visualizing the story he had been told several times.

"And then?" Donna said, involved in the story.

"And then, my grandfather stands up to the guy. 'I
said leave her alone.' The man laughs in his face,
throws his girlfriend on the ground. Then, he says
'Just try and make me.' To make a long story short, my
grandfather was beaten to a bloody pulp."

"Sam, I'm sorry..."

He smiled slightly. "Don't be. I wasn't even born
then." He paused. "Anyway, my grandfather was pretty
badly hurt. He was bleeding internally, had a broken
leg, broken ribs, and a fracture in his skull. The
doctors hadn't expected him to survive the night. But
he did. And you know why?"

"Why?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"Because he desperately wanted to live. He knew he had
to get back to his family. To his wife and kids. The
love he felt for them was so strong, he wouldn't let
his body give up."

"Sam. Josh doesn't have a wife. He doesn't have kids."

"No, he doesn't. But he has you."

Donna stared at him for a moment, surprised. A small
smile spread across her face. "Yes," she said, her
voice breaking. "Yes, he does."

Just then, Toby interrupted them. "Sam, I need you to
come and help me with the President's statements."

"You admit to needing my help?" Sam said happily.

"I admit no such thing," Toby said briskly. "I'll be
waiting over there, Mr. Conceitment."

"Mr. Conceitment?" Sam grumbled. "I'm not Mr.
Conceitment." He stood up to go over to where Toby was
sitting. First, he looked back at Donna. "Are you
going to be fine alone?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

Sam was about to walk away, when Donna called him
back.

"Sam?" she said.

"Yes?"

"What happened to the man who beat up your
grandfather?"

"He went to prison. He was there for three years when
he was killed in a riot."

Donna nodded.

"And, by the way, my grandfather is still alive. And
he's still happily married to my grandmother."

Donna nodded again. And Sam could notice that the fear
in her eyes was lessened. "Thank you, Sam."

"You're welcome, Donna."

THE END