It was after midnight when Josh finally walked into his apartment. He was tired, emotionally and physically exhausted. Still, underneath his exhaustion was the feeling maybe, just maybe he was really going to survive the shooting which had almost taken his life. He had been healed physically for awhile, but emotionally he finally admitted to himself, he had been walking a tight rope without a net.
The meeting with Stanley today had proven just how on edge he had been. It also proved how much he had been lying to everyone about his being okay. Hell, he had even lied to himself! The whole time he had been telling Stanley he had cut his hand while putting down a glass he had believed it himself. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, huh? He had always assumed you had to have went through a war to have PTSD. Then again, wasn�t being shot at by fanatics as close to war as you could get? All he had to do was close his eyes and he could replay the entire scene again . . . and again and again. The repetition every time he closed his eyes was what Stanley had been talking about. He needed to reach the point where he could think about the shooting without reliving all the feelings. He could really do without remembering the feel of the bullet entering his chest . . . the feeling of drawing in a breath and still feeling like he was suffocating. God, who was playing music at this time of night? Didn't they know . . . no of course they didn't know. No one else heard the sirens; no one else tasted the adrenaline, no one else . . .
Josh wasn't sure if he was happy his memories were being interrupted by the knock on the door. Oh, he was happy to escape from the memories, but if Donna was coming back to give him another round of rules about how to handle the cut on his hand, he wasn't sure if he could avoid strangling her! He really appreciated all she had done, but this was getting ridiculous!
"Toby?" Josh asked confused as he opened the door for the White House's Communications Director. "What are you doing here? Did something happen?"
"Well," Toby said shuffling the feet he was staring intently at before he looked up at Josh. "I was thinking maybe uhhh . . ."
"Toby?" Josh asked with a slight smile. "Are you checking up on me?"
"So what if I am? You are the Deputy Chief of Staff and therefore it is important you be healthy emotionally as well as . . ."
"Toby, would you like to come in?" Josh interrupted with a wry grin. "I was about to pour myself a drink."
"A drink would be good." Toby said as he walked into the apartment.
"So," Josh asked as he handed Toby a glass filled with bourbon on the rocks, "How was your day?" Josh motioned Toby to sit down and make himself comfortable.
"It was a day." Toby answered. "How was yours?" Looking up to see if Josh would really answer the question.
"Well, I found out I was crazy . . ."
"You're slow or you would have known before now, we've all known for a long time." Toby answered with his usual sarcasm.
"It must be catching then, cause I'm not real sure about any of the senior staff's mental health . . ." Josh said trying to continue the vein of humor, but Toby was having none of it.
"Maybe because we were all shot at like targets in a shooting gallery." Toby exploded and then looked repentant realizing he had come to offer Josh support and not to make matters worse with his frustration.
"Toby . . ."
"No Josh. We have all been stepping around the issue. Some men took loaded rifles and fired at all of us because Charlie had the audacity to date the President's caucasian daughter. The President was shot. You were shot because of their intolerance. I can�t just ignore it any longer! You almost died Josh. You almost died sitting there leaning against the cement; you almost died in my arms . . ."
"Toby . . ." Josh didn't know what to say. He could hear the anguish in the other man's voice and he was at a loss as to what to do. He knew he had been in pain since the shooting, but he really didn't think anything phased Toby. Yeah, he had heard about Toby's ranting about the second amendment, but he didn't realize it went this deep.
"No, Josh. I need to say this. You can throw me out if you want, but I need to say this." Toby said, his eyes examining his drink like he had never seen anything similar to it before. "It was like the shooting happened in slow motion. I knew they had gotten the President away and I saw Leo get into a car. I checked on CJ and Sam, but I didn't see you. I asked Charlie if he had seen you and he told me you had gotten into the car with Leo, but I knew you hadn�t. I called your name. Then I saw you leaning against the cement. I thought you were just being, I don't know what I was thinking, but it never occurred to me you had been shot. Then I stood in front of you and I said something about calling you and I saw you holding your chest. I remember calling for help and you falling into my arms. I remember thinking you could die and I would never have told you . . ." Toby trailed off, lost in the memories of the horrible night which haunted them all.
"Never told me what Toby?" Josh asked amazed suddenly at how much Toby's answer meant to him. Josh had always thought the other man was annoyed by him or at the very least Toby didn't approve of the way Josh had conducted his life and work. Suddenly Josh was seeing Toby did care about him and hope flared in his heart.
"Never told you how much I care about you." Toby said still talking into his drink. "Never told you . . . how much. . . I Love You."
Josh was dumbfounded. Yeah, he knew Toby was bi-sexual. It had never really been a secret during the election or afterwards, but he never realized Toby thought of him in a romantic way. Josh had never allowed himself to think of Toby in any way besides business or as a friend. Okay, maybe he had allowed himself to think of him a little bit, but only in his fantasies late at night. When he had first joined the campaign in New Hampshire he had looked and had a couple of visions of what it would be like, but after getting to know Toby he didn't think he had a shot and had pushed the thoughts aside. Now Toby was here telling him not only did he have a shot, but talking about being in love with him.
"Josh? Josh?" Toby asked worriedly. "Are you okay? Do you want me to leave? I realize you have probably never thought of me that way, but . . ." Anything else Toby had to say was stopped by Josh's fingers on his lips.
"Toby, I don't want you to leave. I am just a little blown-away by this. I just never realized you felt this way. Give me a minute to wrap my brain around the whole situation."
"Josh, it's okay if you don't feel the same way. I just needed to tell you how I feel. I've been fighting with myself since the shooting and the past couple of weeks I've been worried about you and here I am, going on and on in your living room in the middle of
the night. Maybe you were right about the senior staff's mental health." Toby finished very quietly, which Josh knew meant Toby was a little embarrassed about what he had said.
"Toby, I haven't allowed myself to feel like this. I have pushed aside any feelings I might feel for you because I thought they had no chance. To hear you love me, well it makes me pretty happy. As for the last couple of weeks, well I guess you could say I am not dealing so well with everything happening to me lately. I started flashing back to the shooting . . . remembering getting shot again."
"It happened at the concert didn't it?" Toby asked quietly
"Yeah. According to Stanley, the shrink Leo brought in, when I hear music it�s like sirens to me and I flash back to the night of the shooting."
"So," Toby says sarcastically, "of course I bring in musicians to play everyday in the White House."
"Toby, you had no way of knowing what was going on."
"Well, I should have. I should have seen what was going on, I should have known somehow."
"Toby. There is nothing you could have done. This is something I have to work out for myself. Okay, there will be psychiatrists involved as well, but beside the shrinks, it�s me who has to work through this." Josh said trying to get a small smile out of Toby.
"Josh, tell me what I can do. I need to do something to help you . . ."
"You want to know what you can do for me Toby?" Josh asks and continues as he sees Toby nod. "Kiss me."
"I can do that." Toby says and then allows their lips to meet softly.