Archive of Our Own

i.

“Oh Donna,” Josh calls out from his office, shuffling papers around as he tries to find the memo he needs. He waits a few moments, frowning when Donna doesn’t respond and swings out of his office door. “Donnatella Moss!”

He finds her sitting at her desk, staring at something on her computer, and he frowns when she doesn’t acknowledge his presence. Walking up to her he places a hand lightly on her shoulder, surprised when she jumps a bit in response.

“Sorry,” she apologizes, her voice a little hoarse. “Did you need something?”

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks, taking a better look at her. He’s been in and out of meetings all day so he’s barely seen her since that morning, but as he studies her face he’s pretty sure she didn’t look like this earlier. Donna’s eyes have a slightly glazed over look to them and are rimmed red, her skin looking even paler than normal, and she looks not just her usual level of tired from their long work hours, but exhausted.

“I’m fine,” she insists, rolling her eyes as Josh ignores her and places his wrist against her forehead, the way he remembers his mom doing when he and Joanie were kids.

He frowns when he feels her hot skin against his wrist. “You feel warm, you should go home.”

“When did you get your medical degree?”

“Seriously, you don’t look good.”

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special,” she replies, her voice dripping with sarcasm, which would be more convincing if she didn’t have a raspy edge to it. Going to stand up and move away from her desk, she sways slightly and grabs for the edge of the desk to steady herself, but Josh is already there with his hands coming to rest on her hips to support her.

“Okay, as your boss, I am sending you home now,” he tells her, moving her to sit back down and then going to grab her coat. “Did you take the metro today?”

Donna huffs, but lets him help her into her jacket. “Yeah.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“Josh no, you have work to do,” she tries her best to show him she’s fine by standing on her own again, but her body sways again and she stumbles, catching herself on Josh’s arm.

“I’ve just got a meeting with the Majority Whip in half an hour and trust me, I’m more than happy to make him wait.”

Confirming that she has her purse, he lets his arm rest more securely around her than he normally would and Donna leans slightly into his side, letting him guide her out of the building and to his car. Once she’s settled in the passenger seat, the exhaustion finally takes over and her eyes droop shut. Josh keeps the radio on low as he drives them to her place, glancing over occasionally when he’s stopped at red lights and letting his gaze linger a little longer than usual. He’s just concerned, he tells himself, because so far he’s never seen Donna sick, not like this. There’s a little bit of guilt gnawing at him, making him wonder if somehow the long days he’s kept her at the office have somehow contributed to it.

As they pull up to her building there’s miraculously a spot right out front for him to pull into. He climbs out of the car and walks around to the passenger side door, gently touching Donna’s shoulder to wake her up. She jerks awake, blinking her eyes open at him and without thinking he reaches out and strokes her hair. “We’re here,” he murmurs, giving her a moment to orient herself before he offers her his hand to help her stand up and out of the car.

They make their way upstairs to her apartment, Josh using his copy of her key to let them in. At the doorway her roommate’s cats greet them, meowing happily at Donna’s feet, and Josh does his best to maneuver the cats, grumbling at them.

“Be nice,” she chides him, trying to lean down to pet them hello but Josh’s arm securely keeps her upright.

“You’re going to fall over if you do that,” he tells her, tugging her down the hallway and into her bedroom. Reluctantly he finally lets his arm drop from its place around her waist, going to dig out the tylenol from her medicine cabinet. While he’s gone Donna strips off her office clothes, pulling on a pair of ratty old sweatpants and a Harvard sweatshirt that she’d stolen from Josh during the early days of the campaign. She crawls into her bed and as she won’t say it to him, Josh was right to send her home.

He returns with Tylenol and a glass of water, getting her to sit up and swallow the pills before he helps her settle under the covers. He can’t help but to smirk when he sees the familiar burgundy sweatshirt that she’s wearing, and tries not to think about the warmth that spreads through him that this is what she wears for comfort. Instead, he goes for a teasing, “I don’t think that sweatshirt belongs to you.”

“Finders keepers.”

“I don’t think it counts if you stole it out of my bag Donna.”

“Too bad,” she mumbles, her eyes blinking as she fights to stay awake.

Josh chuckles at her before sighing, knowing he needs to get back to the White House. “Katie will be home soon?”

Donna nods, “she’ll be home after work.”

“Kay,” he nods, awkwardly shifting back and forth on his feet, not sure how to leave her.

Despite herself, she smiles at him. “Go Josh,” she tells him, “I’ll be okay, I just need to sleep.”

“Don’t come in tomorrow if you’re not feeling better,” he warns her, “I’m gonna have Katie take your temperature before she lets you out of the apartment.”

She rolls her eyes at him before letting them fall shut again and snuggling herself deeper underneath the covers, pulling them up to her chin. Josh pauses a moment longer, hesitating, before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. He’s pretty sure Donna has already passed out, though he swears he sees a tug at the corner of her mouth on his way out of the room.

ii.

It’s been a bad day, a bad few weeks really, but today has been particularly miserable. She’s been living with Josh to help take care of him, which has been good most days. He hates needing the help, and she gets it, she does. Most days she’s able to ignore any grumbling from him, taking it all in stride, as a sign he’s getting better. But today has been a series of events that by the time she’s back in Josh’s apartment, all she wants to do is curl up in bed and not move from beneath her covers.

The night before she hadn’t slept much, but it hadn’t been Josh’s thrashing and screaming from nightmares that she’s used to waking her up now. Instead, she’d bolted upright in Josh’s guest bed at 2:13am from a nightmare of her own, trying her best to quiet her gasping breaths, not wanting to wake Josh up. She’s been having a few nightmares of her own about the shooting, which feels silly to her because she wasn’t there, she didn’t witness anything. But that’s what haunts her, what she dreams about: that she got there too late, that he was dead before she got there, that he died alone. It makes her feel sick at the thought, and she has to keep reminding herself he’s fine, he’s alive, he’s breathing steadily in the bedroom next to her.

She doesn’t fall back to sleep, instead trying to listen for the sounds of him snoring. She wishes it was one of those nights where she could climb into bed with him, have the reassurance of his warm body against her, but he’s fast asleep and she doesn’t want to risk disturbing him. He’s been plagued by his own nightmares and she knows sleep is important for him healing, so she accepts that she’s going to have her own restless night.

So, she’s exhausted all day. She has to go into the White House for a few hours with the intention of just getting a few things done and organized, but she’s met with disaster. She’s been doing her best to take care of Josh’s office, make sure nothing gets missed in the chaos, and everyone’s been trying to help her out. But something inevitably had gotten missed and she spent her entire day trying to take care of it, working through lunch because she doesn’t want to get back to Josh too late.

By the time she makes it back home, back to Josh’s she corrects herself, she wants nothing more than to order a pizza and climb into bed. Josh has had his own bad day it seems. She knows he had physical therapy earlier, and it clearly didn’t go well, judging from his mood the moment she walks in the door.

There’s an odd tension between them that evening, which she can’t stand. She tries her best to be patient with him, to not take his clipped comments personally because she knows they’re not, it’s just a reflection of his frustration at the world (and himself, she knows that somehow he feels like he bears the weight of the speed of his healing, as if he could do anything to change it). And to her credit she does ignore most of what he says as she gets them dinner. It’s not until she’s helping him into bed and out of frustration he snaps and says, “I don’t need you here,” that she finally breaks.

The logical part of her brain knows he’s upset about not being independent yet, that he’s in pain from physical therapy, but there’s still a prickling behind her eyes that she can’t seem to stop. She sharply inhales, letting go of him once she can tell he’s stable, and whispers, “Okay.”

She doesn’t run out of his room crying, it feels too melodramatic, but she leaves his room in a rush. She doesn’t want him to see she’s upset because it’s not his fault, she doesn’t blame him, and he doesn’t need the guilt, he already carries too much. She manages to hold back the tears until she throws herself down on her bed, wrapping herself around her pillow as sobs shudder through her body, trying to be as quiet as she can.

It’s a few minutes later when she hears Josh quietly whisper her name from the door. She wipes her eyes, trying to hide the fact that she’s been crying, though she’s sure her red rimmed eyes and blotchy skin will give her away. When she sees his face she feels a stab of pain at how guilty he looks, the haunting look in his eye at seeing her upset. This had been what she was trying to avoid.

“It’s not your fault,” she tells him, wincing at how rough her voice sounds.

He walks closer to the bed and she scoots over, knowing he’s probably exhausted and she wouldn’t tell him, but she’s impressed he was able to make it to her room. He lies on his side next to her on the bed, and it feels more intimate than it should, the way that he’s looking at her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

She shakes her head at him. “I’m just having a bad day.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he offers, and her heart aches a little at the look on his face, that she knows that he honestly wants to know what’s going on with her.

She sighs, “I’m just tired.” She thinks about telling him more, but she knows how he carries guilt and if he knows she’s not sleeping because she can’t stop dreaming about him dying or that work is overwhelming, he’ll find a way to carry that too.

He looks away from her, dropping his gaze down to the guest bedspread they’re lying on. “If you want to go back to your place to get some rest…”

“No,” she says quickly, “Not unless, uh, you want me to.”

“I don’t,” he whispers, his gaze returning to meet hers, his eyes vulnerable. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, I’m just…” he trails off.

“I know,” she says, reaching out to lay her palm against his cheek. “It’s okay Josh, really. I get it.”

There’s a moment of silence while they lie there together, before Josh quietly says, “Join me?”

He doesn’t have to clarify what he means.

She helps him back to his room, with no protests from him this time. Then she gets herself ready, washing her face and pulling on an old sweatshirt and shorts before she climbs into bed with him. It’s not unusual for them now, though they haven’t talked about what it means. Tonight though, instead of Donna letting his head rest on her chest he wraps himself carefully around her, spooning her from behind. She blinks, before she relaxes against him. Ever since the shooting she’s been so focused on Josh, she hasn’t really taken a moment to stop and for the first time in weeks, she feels like she can relax.

“You know,” he tells her, “it’s okay if you need to take a break.”

“I don’t, I promise. Today was just one of those days.” She tries to ignore the warmth blooming in her chest when she feels him rub circles against her skin.

“You can tell me about your bad days,” he says, “I want to take care of you too.”

He says it so tenderly, it makes her want to cry for an entirely different reason than before. “It’s really nothing. Work was just busy, which would have been fine except I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Can I do anything?”

“This helps,” she whispers before she can think about it. She’s glad he can’t see her face right now because she’s sure she’s giving herself away, the emotion a little too raw on her face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They lie there in silence and for the first time that day, Donna feels at peace. She knows she’s in trouble, the fact that having Josh wrapped around her is the one thing that’s brought her comfort. She’s known since the moment she found out that he was in trouble, that she doesn’t have a silly crush on her boss, but feelings that run deeper. She hasn’t let herself dwell on it, instead focusing on taking care of Josh. She can live with an unrequited love as long as he gets healthy. Him making the effort to take care of her though, even when she’s supposed to be the one taking care of him, sparks a small glimmer of hope that maybe she’s not alone in feeling this way.

iii.

“Joshua!” Donna exclaims when he enters the room, or he thinks that’s what she said, since she’s still got gauze in her mouth and it had come out more of a garbled sound. She beams at him the best that she can, wincing a little when she does.

“Hello Donnatella,” he grins at her, chuckling at the state of her. The dentist had warned him that she was going to be a little bit out of it due to the pain medication, but he hadn’t realized quite how much it was going to affect her. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel good!” he deciphers from her attempt to respond and the woman helping her chuckles.

“She’s going to feel it later,” she warns him, then proceeding to explain the rules Donna would need to follow for aftercare, including that someone needs to stay with her for at least four hours afterwards. Originally Katie had been the one who was supposed to come and pick Donna up, except she had a family emergency and had to leave town for the weekend, so Donna had batted her eyelashes at him and called him handsome and powerful until he had agreed to pick her up.

(He doesn’t tell her he would have easily agreed without the compliments, and doesn’t think too much about why he likes hearing her tell him those things.)

So now he’s babysitting a very high Donna, who frowns as they enter his apartment. “I don’t live here.”

He chuckles at her, helping to guide her to sit on the couch. “We’re at my place, remember? You’re going to crash in my guest room.”

“Oh,” Donna says, blinking at him and looking around like she’s never been in his apartment before, like she didn’t live there for months that one summer.

He goes to get her a glass of water to take her next dose of pain medication with and when he returns, she’s curled herself underneath the blanket on the couch, her shoes kicked off on the floor in front of her. “Wake up sleeping beauty, you gotta take these.”

Groaning dramatically, she manages to sit herself up and allows him to give her the pills to take with a sip of water before collapsing back down on the couch.

“You’ll be comfier if you go lie down in bed,” he tells her.

Turning her head towards him, she squints at him in confusion and asks, “in your bed?”

“No!” he protests immediately, not allowing himself to start conjuring up that image (he’s spent far too much time thinking of her in his bed, not that he would ever admit it out loud). “The guest room, where you stayed before.”

“Oh,” Donna pauses for a second to consider, her brows furrowing. “I’m comfy here,” she finally decides, flopping down against the couch cushion.

“Kay, well scooch over so I can sit.”

She huffs at him, but curls her long legs towards herself so he has room to sit down beside her. “I like having you near me,” she tells him nonchalantly and Josh nearly chokes on the air he’s breathing. He turns to look at her and her eyelids are drooping, the effects of all the pain medications beginning to settle in, and he knows she’ll be fast asleep soon.

He also knows that she won’t remember this conversation when she wakes up, which is the only reason he tells her “I like having you near me too,” which earns him a dopey smile. “Are you okay if I watch something?”

She nods, so he puts on the Mets game at a low volume. They sit for a few moments in silence and he’s convinced she’s fallen asleep when she suddenly speaks again.

“Joshua,” she says seriously, doing her best to prop herself up to look at him. “I need to tell you something.”

He turns his head towards her, narrowing his gaze and ignoring the way his heartbeat quickens. “What is it?”

“Did you know that in World War II,” she begins and he lets out a loud groan as his head falls back against the couch while she continues, “grenades were designed after baseballs, since they thought all American men would be able to throw them.”

“Donna, that’s really fascinating, but please go to sleep.”

“You don’t like my facts?” Her voice has an edge to it now, the way she sounds when she’s trying not to cry, and god he can’t handle having a high and crying Donna.

“I love your facts,” he reassures her, turning his head to face her and dropping a hand onto her leg. “I just think you’ll feel better if you get some rest.”

She furrows her brow at him. “Are you lying to me? That wouldn’t be nice. Best friends aren’t supposed to lie.”

He blinks at her, “I’m your best friend?”

“Of course you’re my best friend,” she says as she nods very enthusiastically, but then freezes, looking at him again with watery eyes. “Am I not your best friend?”

“You’re my best friend too,” he instantly reassures her, a little surprised by how deeply he means it, that he’s not just trying to placate her. “Just don’t tell Sam.”

She nods again, grinning brightly at him, before letting her head fall back onto the couch cushions. Josh turns his attention back to the game as Donna settles herself onto the couch, pulling the blanket up to her chin and shifting her body. Eventually, her feet end up sliding into Josh’s lap. Without thinking, he starts rubbing her ankles and she sighs softly, relaxing even further.

“You’re a good best friend,” Donna mumbles drowsily, “the best best friend.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Am I a good best friend?”

“The best,” he tells her honestly as his fingers trace patterns on the tops of her feet.

She finally seems content with that, letting her eyes fall shut. Soon he can hear her lightly snoring and chuckles to himself, knowing they’ll have an argument when she wakes up about if she snores (she insists she does not, but he’s had her fall asleep on him enough times to know otherwise).

He should get off the couch, maybe work on a few things he brought home with him for the weekend, but he can’t picture anything he wants to do more than watch baseball while Donna snores softly beside him.

iv.

It’s a rare night where they’re done at the White House early enough to go for drinks afterwards, so Josh is currently seated at a booth with Charlie beside him, Toby and CJ seated on the other side. Josh loses track of whatever conversation they’re having when he realizes Donna’s been gone for longer than she should when she was just supposed to be getting another beer. His eyes scan the bar, looking for her familiar blonde hair, when he finally finds her standing at the bar. Instantly he sits up, not caring that he’s staring. There’s some guy talking to her (which he never likes), but he sees how stiffly she’s standing, the way her eyes are darting around, the way she’s leaning away the best she can from the gomer beside her. This isn’t Donna flirting, she’s looking for an escape route. He waits a moment, knowing she’ll have his head if he shows up to ‘rescue’ her without permission. But then he sees the man grab her arm and the way she flinches and he’s out of his seat, ignoring the confused questions from Charlie, Toby, and CJ.

He resists the urge to punch the guy, CJ would kill him if he started a bar fight, and instead slides up behind Donna and wraps an arm around her waist. “There you are, I was about to send out a search party for you.”

She freezes for a moment, startled by his embrace, before letting herself relax against him. “Hi honey,” she responds, playing along.

“Who’s this?” Josh finally acknowledges the man beside her, narrowing his eyes at him and fixing him with a glare.

The man’s eyes widen and he backs away from Donna immediately. “Sorry, I didn’t know she was taken.”

“A word of advice buddy,” Josh bites out, “If she says no, it means no.”

“Josh,” she tugs at his arm, “let’s get back to the table.”

He continues to glare for a second longer, before letting Donna tug him away. He moves his arm from around her waist as they walk back to their friends, instead letting his hand fall to its usual place on her lower back as he guides her, though lower than he normally would. If Donna notices, which he figures she must, she doesn’t mention it, doesn’t try to adjust it. When they arrive at the booth, Charlie slides out so that Donna and Josh can share one side, and he pulls up a chair for himself. CJ raises an eyebrow at him as he slides into the booth beside Donna, but she doesn’t question him.

Neither Josh nor Donna mention anything about what happened, not until they’ve been abandoned at the table by themselves a while later.

“Are you okay?” Josh asks softly, watching as Donna picks at the label on her beer bottle.

“Yeah,” she nods, bringing her gaze up to meet his. “I should have known he was an asshole since he was into me.”

“Donna,” he murmurs, but she interrupts him.

“I’ll be okay,” she reassures him, but her head hangs low and she returns to picking at the label.

“How about we pick up a pizza and go back to my place? I’ll let you pick the movie,” he offers.

She pauses for a second, biting her lip and tilting her head, pretending to think on it, but the way her eyes brighten at the suggestion gives her away. “Are you going to complain about my movie choice?”

“Only if it’s Sleepless in Seattle again.”

She rolls her eyes at him, “We haven’t seen it that many times. Besides, I’ve sat through many Mets games for you.”

“Donna,” he whines.

“I’ll spare you tonight, we can watch Notting Hill instead,” she suggests and Josh groans in response. “No whining!”

“Fine, but I get to choose the pizza toppings.”

“Alright, as long as there’s-”

“No mushrooms, I know.” he finishes for her.

He slides out of the booth, waiting for her to step out so that they can walk out of the bar together. He catches CJ’s eye on their way out, who cocks her head in Donna’s direction, asking if she’s alright, and he nods in response. Yet again his hand comes to rest on her lower back as he guides her towards the door. As they walk, he notices the gomer from earlier watching them, watching Donna, and the protectiveness that he felt earlier is bubbling just below the surface again, a need to protect her from men who don’t treat her with the respect she deserves. He fixes the man with another glare before turning his attention back to Donna, guiding her out the door and into a cab.

v.

Josh doesn’t think he’s ever heard a sound more beautiful, more angelic, than Donna calling out his name at this moment. The first time she says it he thinks that maybe the exhaustion has finally hit and his brain is so sleep deprived and desperate for her to be okay (to be alive) that it cruelly conjured up the sound of her voice to torture him. But then she repeats his name again and he watches her bat her eyes open and he’s never felt more relieved in his life. He’s sure his face is giving more away than he wants, but he doesn’t care about White House rules or CJ or the Irish photojournalist in the cafeteria right now.

It takes Donna a moment to focus on where she is, to register the fact that she’s calling out Josh’s name, and then he’s right in front of her, looking at her with such wonder in his eyes. If she hadn’t just had surgery, hadn’t been blown up, she would read more into it but all she registers is that he’s still here.

He adjusts her blankets to cover her shoulders before sitting on the edge of her bed, carefully avoiding bumping her legs. He leans over her again and brushes her hair off her face.

“Do you want me to get your mom?” he asks her.

“No, stay,” she responds immediately, an edge of panic in her voice. She does her best to lift her hand, which isn’t very much, but he gets the hint and gently holds her hand, stroking it with his thumb.

“It’s okay, I’ll stay,” he promises and she nods, settling back against the bed and letting her eyes fall shut again for a moment.

Josh watches her face carefully, unable to take his eyes off of her even if he wanted to. He needs to see the proof that she’s alive, that this isn’t just some dream out of desperation and he’s going to wake up to… he can’t even let himself think it without a vile feeling rising in the back of his throat.

“Josh?” Donna murmurs, opening her eyes again.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for coming,” she says hoarsely, meeting his gaze and trying to find the words to tell him how much it means that he’s here for her. “And thank you for staying.”

He blinks at her in surprise, because of course he’s here. The world is falling apart but he can’t think of any of that right now because she almost died, he’d come so close to losing her, to adding her to the list of people that he loved that had died. She had wanted to go to Belgium and instead he sent her somewhere that he knew was dangerous, he should have known that this could have happened to her. It makes him sick that he almost lost her, that she’s barely out of the woods now. He knows she still has a long way to go, months of painful recovery (which he remembers all too well from his own brush with death), but he just needs to focus on the fact she’s still breathing.

“There’s nowhere else I would be,” he tells her, “Besides, we said no stopping for red lights.”

Donna furrows her brow at him, the best that she can, and her mouth drops open a little. “You remember?”

“Of course,” he replies in mock offence, “I remember everything you say.”

She chuckles a little and rolls her eyes at him, “No you don’t.”

His heart soars when he sees her laugh, pride blooming in his chest at the feeling he can make her feel even a little bit better right now. “Maybe not everything but the important things.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, her eyelids fluttering again, the exhaustion of everything she’s been through still evident in her face.

“You can rest now Donna,” he says softly, “I’ll be right here.”

She nods and lets her eyes flutter shut, feeling secure knowing Josh is there with her, like somehow if she knows he’s there she’s safe. She feels him shift forward on the bed, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead, not just a quick peck like the ones he’s given her before but one that lasts longer, like he’s trying to communicate something through it.

vi.

He really doesn’t mean to be watching her. Josh actually hasn’t seen her much tonight, been too focused on the fundraiser and the endless list of things that seem to need his constant attention. Things between them have been weird since she joined the campaign, since their unfinished fight in the hotel room, but they’re coexisting again. Somehow he thinks it’s worse than before when they were on opposite campaigns, seeing her all the time now but not knowing how to act around her, being hit with the weight of how much has changed between them.

Now that he has a moment to himself, he can’t help but notice where she’s standing wearing a gorgeous blue dress (though she’s always looked beautiful in anything, everything). He frowns, watching Donna shift back and forth on her feet, her smile faltering slightly when he can see a hint of something and he suddenly realizes what it is: she’s in pain.

She hasn’t said anything to him about it, not even much before she quit, which isn’t that surprising to him, she’s never been one to complain about pain. But he should have known, he still knows her better than anyone, even though it’s felt like they’re worlds away from each other lately. He saw her injuries, he knows what she went through, how much she suffered. So, before he can talk himself out of it, he’s across the room and interrupting her conversation.

“Hi,” he greets, trying to be casual. “Sorry to interrupt, I need to borrow Donna.”

She gives him a puzzled look, furrowing her brow, but lets him lead her away. He wants to get her out of the room, away from everyone else, so he drags her with him until they stumble into a vacant room with extra tables and chairs from the venue.

Donna looks around the room before turning to him. “What did you need?”

“I, uh, your leg,” he explains awkwardly, gesturing towards her bad leg. “You looked like you were in pain and could use a break.”

Donna stares at him.

There’s a stilted silence and Josh can feel his heart thumping as he tries to think of a way to say something, to get out of it, but finally after a few dragging moments, she speaks.

“It is,” she confirms, coming to sit at a table that’s been set up with a few chairs in the room, most likely used by the hotel staff. “I’m used to it but a break is good.”

He moves to push a second chair across from her and she gets the hint, lifting her bad leg to rest on it, sighing in relief. When she lifts her leg her dress falls in a way that reveals the bare skin of her leg to him and for the first time since she was in Germany, he sees the scars that run up her leg. He doesn’t mean to stare, he knows the insecurity of having a scar all too well, but his eyes must linger for a moment too long because she catches him, turning her head as her cheeks flush.

It makes him sick that she feels embarrassed by them, as if they’re not beautiful for the simple fact that they mean she lived, so he needs to say something to her. “They’re healing nicely.”

Donna laughs and shakes her head at him. “They’re still pretty ugly, but better than the last time you saw them I guess.”

Nothing about you could ever be ugly, is what he wants to say, wants to forget that he’s still upset about her leaving and kiss his way up her leg until she believes him that they’re beautiful, but he doesn’t, he can’t. Instead, he says, “they make you look badass,” which earns him a genuine chuckle.

She stretches her leg out slightly and adjusts how shifts her weight on the chair, trying to get more comfortable. There’s a temptation to kick off her heels, but she’s worried that if she takes them off now she won’t put them back on. She’s had longer days on her leg, but she is grateful Josh suggested the break. A part of her also feels hopeful that he noticed, that he can still read her, still knows her well enough that she doesn’t have to say anything, like maybe not everything about their relationship was lost when she left.

Josh shifts his gaze down to her foot, still encased in her heeled shoe. “No wonder your leg is bothering you,” he says with a nod towards her choice in footwear.

“After a day like today it’d hurt no matter what,” she informs him, “but the shoes probably aren’t helping.”

“Why do you wear them then?”

Donna laughs, more fully this time, “You’re still clueless about women. What else could I wear with this dress?”

“Um,” he pauses, “you used to have those flat shoes?”

She rolls her eyes. “They don’t go with the dress. And I like these shoes.”

He shakes his head at her, a soft grin on his face, and for a moment things between them almost feel normal again.

Almost.

The silence between them grows awkward again, which stings the same as the awkward conversations. Before silences were rare between them, with both of them being naturally talkative people, but when there were moments of silence they were never awkward, always a comfortableness surrounding them.

Donna can’t stand it a moment longer so she asks him how it’s going tonight, knowing that the campaign is always a safe topic between them now.

“Yeah, it’s good,” he answers, “speaking of I should probably get back in there. Are you…” he trails off, not sure how to ask if she’s okay if he leaves.

“Go ahead, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Kay,” he nods, pausing for a second, wanting to say more to her. But there’s nothing more that he can say, not now. But as he passes by her on his way out, he lets his hand brush her arm for a moment. It’s the first time he’s touched her since they were in the White House together and it’s brief, but it still sends a spark of something through them both, something that feels a bit like hope.

vii.

There’s a rattling at the front door of the apartment and Josh would be concerned, except for the fact that he knows there’s two armed secret service agents standing right outside. The door finally swings open, and he hears Donna thank the agent on duty before stepping inside. She clumsily kicks off her heels at the door, before stumbling further inside and finally noticing where he’s standing looking at her, an amused grin on his face.

“Josh!” she exclaims, and throws herself at him with no warning, like it’s been weeks since she’s seen him instead of mere hours since he kissed her goodbye at the office.

“Hello Donnatella,” he responds, his hands coming to rest on her hips to steady her. “I see you had a good time?”

She nods enthusiastically, “Melissa says hi.”

Melissa was a friend of hers from high school, her best friend throughout her teenage years, but they had fallen out of touch when Melissa had moved out of Wisconsin to go to college. They’d run into her when they had gone to see Donna’s parents last Christmas and they had exchanged numbers with a promise to catch up sometime. And Melissa had followed through, calling to let Donna know she had a work trip to DC and asked if she wanted to get drinks and chat. Emphasis, apparently, on the drinks.

Leaning down, he kisses the top of her head. “Let me get you some water babe.”

He walks to the kitchen to get her a glass of water, returning to find that she’s now on the couch and apparently has found his open beer and is drinking it.

“Thief,” he accuses her, placing the glass of water on the coffee table in front of her which she ignores, continuing to drink his beer instead as she smirks at him. He rolls his eyes, flopping down on the couch beside her, their legs bumping. She makes eye contact with him as she sips his beer, a look of amusement in her eyes, and when she brings it down from her lips, he swipes it out of her hand.

“Josh,” she whines but he finishes off the rest of the bottle, pointing at the water glass in front of her. She sighs, but dutifully takes a small sip from it before placing it back down and settling back onto the couch. She tugs on his arm until he gets the hint and hooks it around her shoulders, letting her head fall to rest against his chest and swinging her legs to rest across his lap.

“I’m glad you had fun,” he tells her, running his hands through her hair as she settles against him, and he means it. This isn’t the first time he’s seen Donna drunk, there’s been many occasions over the years, but he’s always enjoyed how affectionate she gets. Even before they were together, she would end up draped over him, leaning into his side, touching him far more than was ever considered appropriate. It’s a little pathetic really, the way her innocent displays of physical affection gave him more of a rush than any other relationship he’d ever been in. He’s always been hers, even if she didn’t know it.

“You know, she was almost a little jealous when I told her you were my boyfriend,” she says as she fidgets with the buttons on the shirt that he’s still wearing from the office.

He bites out a laugh, assuming she’s joking, before he looks down at her and can tell she’s being serious, a testament to how drunk she is because sober Donna wouldn’t inflate his ego this way. “Really?”

“You’re a very handsome and powerful man,” she responds as she strokes his chest, letting her fingers slip underneath the buttons she’s undone to touch his skin. “It makes you a hot commodity.”

“Well, you’re a very beautiful and powerful woman, and I know that every gomer in DC would be after you if I gave them a chance, so I think we’re even there.”

“We’re a sexy DC power couple,” Donna says, quoting the tabloid headlines that had started to appear after the public had realized they were together.

Josh chuckles at her, letting his hand fall from her hair to stroke her back. She nuzzles into his neck, placing a light kiss against his skin. He can tell she’s reaching the drowsy point of being drunk now, and really he should move them before she falls asleep against him, but there’s something all too comforting about the weight of her in his lap when they sit like this. So he leaves them a moment, continuing to stroke her back and he feels her breath even out against his chest.

“Donna?” he murmurs after a couple of minutes, with no response from her besides a soft grunt. Despite knowing he might regret it in the morning, he hooks his arms under her legs and lifts them both off the couch, carrying her down the hallway to their bedroom. She wakes up a little when he places her on the bed, finding the energy to sit up and help him undress her. He helps her strip off her clothes and pull on one of his t-shirts that she likes to sleep in.

“Do you want pants?” he asks her, and chuckles when she shakes her head. “Wanna brush your teeth?”

She nods and groans as she stands up, making her way to the ensuite to brush her teeth and wash her face. Even intoxicated Donna insists on keeping up with her bedtime routine. After, they crawl into bed together and she immediately tangles herself around Josh as soon as he’s lying down.

“There’s water and painkillers on your night stand,” he tells her and she hums in response. “Go to sleep sweetheart,” he tells her and gives her a goodnight kiss.

“Love you,” she sleepily mumbles and he laughs before telling her he loves her too.

When she wakes up in the morning, her head is pounding. It’s not the worst hangover she’s ever had (that honour belongs to an incident from years ago involving CJ and lots of tequila). But she feels it, groaning as she wakes up and burrowing her face into her pillow.

“Good morning sunshine,” she hears Josh whisper into her ear and she resists the urge to push him away. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m never drinking again,” she grumbles, knowing she doesn’t really mean it, but the throbbing in her skull is currently winning over logic.

Josh laughs at her and she turns her head from her pillow to glare at him where he’s standing beside her. He leans down to kiss her, which she considers rejecting on principle, but after not getting to kiss him for so long she doesn’t want to give up any opportunities she gets now.

“If you can get out of bed I’ll make you breakfast,” he offers as he hands her some ibuprofen and a glass of water, which she takes without protest.

“You’re going to cook?”

“I think I can manage some eggs and toast. Maybe some bacon too.”

“Can I get a raincheck? I just wanna lie in my misery for a bit longer.”

“Of course,” he says, kissing her cheek. “Want company?”

She nods, so he crawls across the bed and slips under the covers to spoon her, wrapping himself around her and kissing her shoulder. Sighing, she settles back into him, enjoying the comforting feeling of him surrounding her and lulling her back to sleep.

viii.

“I need you to not freak out,” is the first thing she says when Josh answers the phone, which is one of the last things he ever wants to hear from his fiancée.

“What’s wrong?” he demands, sitting up in his chair, ignoring Sam’s look of concern as he says it.

“I’m fine,” she stresses, “but I need you to pick me up from the hospital.”

“The hospital?!” he chokes out, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Josh, listen to me. I am fine, I just need you to come pick me up,” she tells him, her voice calm and even, which somewhat helps to ease his anxiety, but he still needs to see her, confirm with his eyes that she’s okay. “Take a deep breath honey.”

He sucks a breath in, closing his eyes before he exhales a shaky breath out. “I gotta go to tell the president I’m leaving, and then I’ll be right there.”

“Thank you.”

He knows he should hang up the phone, but the anxiety of losing his connection to knowing she’s okay, he just can’t seem to put the phone down.

“Give the phone to me,” Sam says, startling Josh who had forgotten he was there. “Go tell the President that you need to leave and I’ll stay on the phone with her until you get back.”

Sam wasn’t there when Gaza had happened, hadn’t seen Josh’s face as he watched the news footage as he thought his entire world was falling apart in front of him. But he knows Josh, knows that he needs this, so it’s not that surprising that he offers. Plus, Donna and Sam have always been close, even more so since Sam had joined the Santos administration. So he hands the phone to Sam, letting him chat with Donna, and goes to tell President Santos that he needs to leave.

He manages to explain to Matt, who instantly tells him to go, that between him and Sam and everyone else they can handle things here. He nods his thanks before going back into his office, taking the phone back from Sam.

“I’m going to call you back from my cell,” Josh tells her, trying to figure out what papers he needs to take with him.

“Josh,” Donna starts to protest.

“Please?” he asks softly, knowing he should probably care that he would beg her if he had to.

“Okay,” she agrees, because she does get it, gets him, and if sitting on the phone with her the entire drive will help to ease his anxiety, it’s the least she can do. She had considered not calling him, just taking a cab home and telling him after work, but that seemed deceptive to her and she doesn’t lie to Josh, can’t imagine lying to him. And as much as this isn’t a big deal, or at least in comparison to the last time he had to come see her in a hospital, she wants him with her. Josh has always been her favourite form of comfort.

They stay on the phone as he gets the agents to take him to the hospital, not talking the whole time, but Josh just feels better hearing her breathe, knowing that he’ll know immediately if something else happens, not that he could do anything, but somewhere in his mind it helps. He finally makes it to her, turning off the call once he’s stepping into the room.

“Hey,” he says, his body relaxing now that he can physically see that she’s okay. He scans his eyes over her body, not in the fun way he usually does, but looking for what happened. His eyes fall onto her foot, encased in a foot brace. “What happened?”

Donna’s face goes pink. “I tripped on some stairs and managed to fracture my foot.”

He sighs in relief, his body relaxing, and he kisses her forehead. She’s okay, just clumsy.

The doctor comes to talk to them and Donna groans when he mentions she’s going to be on crutches again, remembering what a nightmare they were last time. But they’re able to go home now, with strict instructions to elevate and ice her foot throughout the evening.

Once they’re home, Josh helps her hobble into their bedroom and he’s about to go get her some ice when she calls his name.

"Can you help me with my pants?”

For the first time since she called him from the hospital, he grins, and says, “I’m always happy to take your pants off.”

She rolls her eyes and laughs at him. He helps her carefully strip off her pants and gets her a pair of his boxers that are wide enough that she can put them on without bumping her foot. He tosses her the Harvard sweatshirt she loves to steal and she strips off her blouse to put it on. Once she’s changed he helps her onto the bed, placing a pillow under her foot to help elevate it and goes to the kitchen to bring her some ice.

“C’mere,” Donna murmurs, indicating for him to sit next to her. Careful not to bump her leg, he slides onto the bed next to her and wraps his arm around her shoulder, resting his head on her shoulder. She runs a hand through his hair as they sit together for a moment. Even though she’s physically okay, they both know there’s an emotional undercurrent to what happened today that drained them both.

“When do you need to go back to work?” she asks as she continues to stroke her hand through his hair.

He frowns, “I’m not going back to work tonight.”

“Josh, I’m fine. You can go back, you must have things to do.”

“Sam’s got it under control.”

“Are you sure?”

He leans up from her shoulder, dislodging her hand from his hair and pulls back to look at her. “Do you want me to go back?” he asks, avoiding what he’s really asking.

“I just,” she pauses, biting her lip. “I don’t want you to stay if you need to be at work. You’ve got enough going on, I don’t want you to feel more stressed by missing things.”

“I’m exactly where I need to be,” he says firmly.

There’s a moment of silence before Donna quietly says, “I’m really glad you’re here,” leaning into his side and kissing his shoulder. She’s always been independent since he’s known her, not wanting to need anyone due to past disappointments or fearing that somehow she’s inconveniencing people. His heart swells at the feeling of her wanting him there, that she trusts him to take care of her.

He’ll always take care of her.

ix.

So far, Donna hasn’t found being pregnant to be too miserable. The morning sickness was terrible, though why they call it “morning” sickness she’ll never understand, because she spent all day being nauseous. Since that finally passed, she’s felt okay most of the time, except for the occasional bad day. Like today.

Her whole body just aches ever since she woke up, alone in their bed since Josh had an early morning meeting. She loves their daughter an unbelievable amount already, and normally loves feeling her kicks, but she’s been in a position where she’s been pressed on her bladder all day. All day her emotions have been all over the place too and she hates how crazy it makes her feel, doing things like almost bursting into tears when Josh had to cancel on her for lunch or when she couldn’t get a blueberry muffin from the Mess.

Thankfully, Helen sends her home early and usually Donna would fight her on it (she may be pregnant but she is still fully capable of working), but after today all she wants to do is sulk around at home. When she finally gets in, she steals a pair of Josh’s sweatpants and a tank top, pulling her hair up into a bun. When Josh gets home, he finds her lying on the couch, reading a book in an attempt to relax.

“Hi,” he greets her.

“Hi,” she says back, closing the book she’s reading and placing it on the coffee table. He comes next to her leaning down to kiss her which she happily returns.

“How are my girls doing?” Josh asks, kneeling on the floor next to the couch and places his hand on her belly.

“She seems good, she was kicking a bunch earlier but she’s quieter now.”

Josh presses a soft kiss to her stomach. “And how about mom?”

“Mom’s… had a day.”

Josh furrows his brow, turning his head to look at her with concern. “What happened?”

“Nothing in particular, just being pregnant,” she tells him.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, reaching to take her hand and presses a soft kiss to her palm.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to be pregnant. Today was just one of those days,” she says with a sigh.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s just… My entire body aches and your daughter has been using my bladder as a soccer ball all day. And my emotions have been all over the place and I keep crying over silly things that I don’t even know why I’m crying about!” she rambles.

He lifts her hand to kiss it again, before moving forward to press a kiss to her forehead, then one soft and sweet against her lips.

“I’m going to make us some dinner,” he tells her, “Why don’t you just rest a little longer, okay? I’ll come get you when it’s done.”

“Thank you,” she says softly, sniffling a little. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” he responds, pressing another kiss to her belly. “And be nicer to your mom, baby girl.”

She lets Josh handle dinner, picking her book up again to try and read a little more. Normally she likes to be in the kitchen, even if he’s the one cooking, wanting to just be near him as they chat about their days. But right now it feels like it would take a herculean effort to pull herself off the couch, so she lets herself settle in and continues to read her book.

Josh makes a simple pasta for dinner, so it doesn’t take long. He helps her off the couch and to the kitchen table, letting her continue to complain about her day and after dinner he clears their dishes and tells her to go lie on the couch again. She’s so exhausted she doesn’t argue, just lies back down on the couch and accidentally drifts off.

She wakes up to him gently stroking her face, “Hi, you can go back to sleep if you want but I have a surprise for you.”

She gives him a puzzled look and he holds his hand out for her to take. He helps her stand up and then leads her down the hallway to their bathroom, opening the door to reveal the bathtub fully filled, the light dimmed, and a few candles lit.

“I thought maybe a bath would help you feel better,” he explains, looking almost bashful, “I put those epsom salts that you like in it.”

Donna feels tears begin to well in her eyes and she turns, throwing her arms around Josh’s neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek before burying her face into his neck. He holds her for a moment before she pulls back, her eyes still shiny with tears. She can see the panic settle into his face, the way he always gets when she starts to cry.

“They’re happy tears,” she tells him, and he relaxes, the panic on his face fading to relief. “You’re very sweet.”

He beams at that, smiling with his dimples at her. She strips off her clothes, noticing how his eyes trace her body. The changes her body has gone through with being pregnant haven’t made her insecure per se, but there’s a thrill that shoots through her that Josh still is just as into her body as he always has been. He’s always made her feel like she’s the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen.

He holds her hand as he helps her step into the bathtub and carefully lower herself down, sighing as the warm water covers her. Somehow, he had known this is exactly what she needed tonight.

“Will you stay?” she asks. They’ve done this before, him sitting beside the bathtub while she lies in it, just talking about their days. There’s a certain level of peace they both find in it, an indescribable comfortable intimacy.

“Of course,” he says, sitting himself on his usual spot beside the tub. He rolls up his shirt sleeves so that he can dip his hand in the water. Lazily, he drags his hand around the water, before settling it on her stomach, rubbing gently.

Donna closes her eyes and leans back, letting her body finally relax. She opens her eyes again when she feels a kick, though luckily not against her bladder right now. Her eyes look over to Josh’s face which is filled with wonder, as it always is, no matter how many times he’s felt their daughter kick before.

“I think she’s saying thank you daddy,” she tells him and he grins at her.

“Anything for my girls,” he says, leaning over to press a kiss to her temple.

x.

It’s been a long week in the Moss-Lyman household. It had started with their youngest daughter Nora bringing home a cold from preschool. She’d of course gotten her sisters sick, keeping them home from school for a few days with sniffly noses and sore throats. Yet despite Josh being the one to stay home all day and take care of them, Donna somehow finds herself as the one who’s sick in bed on Sunday.

Being sick on a Sunday feels the same as getting sick in the summer as a kid, an unfair punishment from the universe. Usually they spend their Sundays doing family activities and Donna loves it. Their lives are still hectic, as they always have been, and Sundays are the day she gets to spend time being lazy, whether they take the girls to the park or have a family movie marathon. But today she’s curled up in bed still at 10am, which has been unheard of since Leah was born 8 years ago. She’s debating if she should drag herself downstairs when she hears the pattering of little footsteps heading towards the bedroom door, pausing just outside as she hears Josh catch up to them.

“C’mon daddy!” she hears Nora say, having inherited her father’s impatience along with his curls.

“We need to be quiet, remember?” Josh responds, “Mommy might still be sleeping.”

“I’m awake,” she calls out, wincing as there’s a throbbing pain in her throat.

The door swings open and her wonderful little family falls through the door. “Hi,” he greets her, “we brought you a few things, if you’re feeling up to it.”

She nods, adjusting herself to sit up against the headboard with a pillow behind her back. Once she’s settled, Leah brings her the mug that she’s carefully clasping between her hands. “Daddy and I made you some tea to help your throat.”

“Thanks baby,” she says, taking the mug from her daughter's hands and taking a gentle sip from it.

Next, Nora hands her a handmade card, drawn on pink craft paper with crayons. ‘Feel better soon Mommy!’ is written on the front of it in bubble letters that look outlined by Leah and coloured in by Evie. When she opens the card, it says ‘we love you!’ and they’ve all signed their names at the bottom. There’s also stickers scattered throughout it, which she presumes was Nora’s contribution. “Thank you girls, I love you.”

“What about me?” Josh mockingly whines, scooping up Nora, “I helped too.”

She chuckles, rolling her eyes at him. “You know I love you.”

“It’s still nice to hear,” he says, bending down to kiss her. “Love you too.”

“You’re going to get sick,” she tells him as he pulls away, but she’s pretty sure he doesn’t care.

“I’m immune after taking care of these monkeys,” he jokes, ruffling his youngest daughter’s hair while she giggles in his arms.

She carefully places the card on her nightstand before taking another sip of her tea, letting the warm drink help to soothe her throat. Something brushes against her arm and she looks down to see a stuffed bunny on her lap.

“Here mommy, Fluffy always helps me when I don’t feel good,” Evie tells her as she hands her the brown stuffed bunny Aunt CJ had given to her when she was born. “Maybe she’ll help you.”

Her heart melts at her middle daughter. She’s more shy than her sisters, a little more hesitant and careful, but very thoughtful and always wanting to be Donna’s helper.

“Thank you sweetheart, but I think Fluffy will miss you too much,” she says, stroking Evie’s hair. “But you know what would help me feel better? Some cuddles.”

Evie’s face lights up along with her sisters, and Evie and Leah immediately are scrambling onto the bed. Josh puts Nora down on the bed, before climbing onto it himself and taking his place next to Donna. Leah lays down next to him, pressed tightly against his side, while Evie mirrors her next to Donna and Nora climbs up onto Josh’s chest, nestling herself until she’s comfortable between him and Donna.

Josh sets up the tv, putting on cartoons that the girls like, and settles his arm around Donna. She sighs, scooting down the bed a bit and rearranging herself so that her head is on his chest, pulling Evie against her. She feels him softly kiss her hair, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Do you remember years ago, I think it was during the first Bartlet administration,” she asks softly, “the day I was sick and you made me go home?”

She feels his chest vibrate as he chuckles. “Yeah, you were being stubborn about going home.”

Despite the fact he can’t see her face, she rolls her eyes at him. “Did you ever think we’d be here?”

“No, but I hoped.”

“Aw,” Donna says sweetly, “You had a crush on me?”

“You know I’ve been gone for you since 1998,” he says and she presses a kiss against his chest in response.

“You were good at taking care of me that day,” she tells him, thinking back to all those years ago. Even before they were together, he’s always been looking out for her. “You always have been.”

“You took care of me so much,” he whispers, “I wanted to do the same for you.”

“It’s what you do for the people you love,” she tilts her head up from his chest, leaning up to lazily kiss him. She lies her head back down on his chest, closing her eyes as the exhaustion of being sick settles in again.

“Go to sleep sweetheart,” he says softly, loud enough for just her to hear. “I’ve got you.”