Work Text:
-
There was a pattern to Josh’s relationships. He knew about the pattern, he knew why it probably existed, and yet, every time it came to a new one, a new woman, a new passion, he fell into the exact same pattern.
Josh threw himself into relationships. He rushed into things, he made grand gestures and statements, acted without thinking, and did everything he thought he should be doing to try and make it work, all the while knowing that it wouldn’t. The relationship would end, and Josh would feel ashamed of his own behaviour, especially when he realised how other parts of his life had suffered because of it.
Josh knew the pattern with painful familiarity, and he was just as agonisingly aware of the reason it existed.
The same reason why Sam’s relationships with women were never more than one night stands or flirtation, with Sam always backing off from romance as soon as there was the potential for greater intimacy. Josh wasn’t sure Sam knew the reason for his own pattern, since it had taken outside parties - in the form of a trauma therapist - to point Josh’s out.
But, then, Sam was a genius. So maybe he know the root cause of his own disastrous relationship pattern. Maybe he did know, as Josh knew, that it stemmed from love they’d agreed to deny themselves long ago.
Emerging from his latest failed relationship, however, enduring the fury directed at him from his president, Josh had to question how many more patterns his world would endure before it fell apart entirely.
His work had suffered through his relationship with Amy. That was bad enough. Any loss in his ability to do his job had fallout for the entire country, for the future of the United States, and for the hope for greater equality, peace and sustainability that their administration was fighting for.
That alone was enough to make Josh question his and Sam’s agreement to end their fleeting, yet perfect, exploration of just how deep their affections went.
But, it was when Josh watched Sam collapse in the middle of a senior staff meeting, that the question was decided.
Josh could have sworn his heart skipped several beats the moment it happened, his breath catching as his mind rushed with all the horrifying possible reasons why Sam would suddenly collapse, without warning, in the middle of Leo’s office.
His head was still short-circuited with terrifying thoughts of some unnoticed illness or covert assassination when Leo, reacting before anyone else, had rounded his desk to drop to his knees beside Sam.
Sam was already coming to, confused and shivering, his breaths coming short and sharp in a confused panic, while Leo helped him to sit up, murmuring comforting words in a tone far softer than any of them were used to from him.
“Wh-what…” Sam managed that one word, looking up between the four now gathered around him, his whole body shaking. And now Josh was looking properly, he wasn’t sure how he could have missed the signs.
Sam was drawn and pale, his eyes deeply shadowed, his hair less perfectly in place, his face thinner than usual. That hadn’t all happened because he fainted. That had been there before, and Josh must have seen, but he hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t realised. He had been so wrapped up in his own work, his own relationship and the fallout of it, that he hadn’t seen what was happening.
“You passed out there for a second,” Leo explained calmly as Sam tried to move as if to stand, despite the fact he was still trembling, “Don’t try to get up yet. Just sit back against the desk here…can someone grab a glass of water?”
There was impatience in the last at the fact no one had really moved to do anything. They were still stunned, and Leo had control of the situation, and Josh was still trying to process his initial terror and the guilt that was following now.
C.J. was the one to hand Leo a glass of water, acting the moment he asked, and perhaps able to do so because she, unlike Toby and Josh, had less of a responsibility to have noticed. Less reason to be struck dumb in the face of guilt.
“Here, drink. Small sips. There ya go,” Leo helped Sam keep the glass steady, “How’re ya feelin’, kid?”
“I-I’m fine,” Sam frowned, “I just got a-a bit light-headed... The meeting. We…we should…”
“We’ll get back to it. Just sit here for a while. There’s no rush,” Leo looked over at the rest of them, “Anyone know when he last slept? Or ate?”
Josh didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He hadn’t been paying attention.
“He was in when I left on Friday and still in when I got in today,” Toby offered, “We’re really up against it with the speeches for Indiana and the military. Not to mention-”
“We all know how busy things are right now,” C. J. offered him a small smile, “No one’s blaming you.”
Except Toby was blaming himself, just as Josh was blaming himself. Josh could see it in the softening of his eyes, in the way his brow furrowed as if he couldn’t believe he’d failed to notice.
“Sam?” Josh finally found his voice and spoke up, crouching in front of Sam and resting a hand on his knee to draw his still unfocused gaze, “Did you go home at all over the weekend? Or sleep?”
Sam blinked at him for a moment before answering, “No.”
“To which?”
“I haven’t had time-”
“Sam.”
Sam looked away, avoided eye contact, as he replied, “Both.”
“You haven’t slept in two days?!” Josh stared at him in horror, “At all?”
“Josh, I don’t think yelling at him’s gonna help right now,” Toby muttered angrily.
Josh ignored him, “Okay, you gotta sleep, buddy.”
“I will. But, I’m sure you’ve all noticed that…that we’re bleeding here, and a large part of that is my fault. I’ll sleep when I’ve got time,” Sam shot back, voice getting stronger with frustration, “Can we j…can we just get back to the meeting? I’m fine. Just got dizzy for a second.”
“You need to go home and sleep.”
“He can’t today,” Toby said quietly, “I really do need him today. He’s right that we’re up against it with the speeches. But, tomorrow, it’s Indiana, and-”
Sam looked sharply up at him, “I’m meant to be there.”
“You think I can’t handle it alone?”
“I should be there too. If the President’s…”
“Then Toby will make himself scarce from the podium for the duration of the speech,” Josh replied, looking at the others for support, “You should take tomorrow off. You’ve not taken any time off since the convention, and you’ve not slept in two days. God knows when you last consumed something other than black coffee. So, I mean, I think you can afford to take a day off, right?”
“Okay, it’s agreed,” Leo said firmly, “We proceed as normal today. Tomorrow, Sam, you’re at home and you’re sleeping. No argument. If I see you in this building, get word from anyone else that you’re in here, or you try to board Air Force One to go to Indiana, I will personally see to it that the secret service manhandles you home and ties you to your bed until you’ve slept at least five hours.”
“Sleeping tomorrow,” Sam held up his hands and offered a defeated, half-hearted smile, “Got it. Now, can we just…”
When he moved to stand this time, Leo helped him up and into the chair that Toby had vacated, around which the other three now hovered as if, by mere proximity, they could prevent Sam from passing out again.
Although, he did a good job of pretending that he hadn’t just suddenly fainted, keeping his voice strong and his remarks as well-considered as usual, as if nothing had happened, aside from the way he still shivered slightly, and now Josh couldn’t unsee the unnatural pallor in his cheeks.
The meeting ended with almost normality, save for Leo’s reiterated warning to Sam that he was taking tomorrow off to sleep, and C.J. looping her arm through Sam’s to support him back towards his office, offering only a flat look in answer to his argument that he was fine.
As predicted, Leo held Toby and Josh back as the other two left.
“Leo, I knew that Sam was putting a lot of pressure on himself and working hard,” Toby began immediately, “But his work’s been good. Really good. So, I-I didn’t realise he…”
“Was on the way to working himself to death?” Josh finished for him, “I’m the one who shoulda seen it! I’m meant to-”
“None of that matters right now,” Leo cut in before they could get into either an argument or a guilt-off, “We’re all working hard right now, and Sam is the sorta guy who’ll work until he drops. Literally. So, will one of you just make sure he goes home tonight, will ya? Put the kid the hell to bed.”
“I’ll do it,” Josh volunteered immediately, “I’ll even sing him a lullaby if I have to.”
“I don’t care how you do it, just make sure he sleeps. Last thing we need right now is a West Wing full of zombies.”
With words of agreement and thanks from Toby and Josh, Leo gave them a significant nod that signified the conversation was over, and they turned to leave.
“He has been doing really good work,” Toby began not two steps from the door, “After the mess up with the video, he’s been doing good. Really good.”
“I know,” Josh sighed.
He might not have noticed Sam pushing himself too hard, but how could he forget the absolute coup Sam and Toby pulled off at the theatre to humiliate Ritchie, and the success of the Everglades plan, not to mention Sam’s ability to craft phrases that subtly, but thoroughly, undermined their enemy and insert them into almost every speech?
Sam being angry in the wake of the manipulation by Kevin Kahn worked.
“I wanted him mad. I need him mad, ‘cus that’s the only way we’re gonna win this thing,” Toby continued, raising his voice slightly with emotion, but lowering it as they neared the communications office, “I didn’t want him mad at himself.”
“He’s not doing this because he’s mad at himself,” Josh tried to reassure, pausing so they didn’t enter the area where Sam was working while talking about him, “Sam’s not trying to hurt himself here. He’s just…he’s fighting back. He’s determined, and when that happens, he forgets about other stuff.”
“Like sleep and food?”
“Yeah.”
Toby nodded, thoughtful and disgruntled.
“Keep an eye on him today, will you?” Josh offered a small smile, “I’ll take him home this evening and make sure he sleeps.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks,” Josh glanced into the office, although from here he couldn’t see where Sam was almost certainly sitting at his desk and working already, and where he was bound to still be when Josh came to find him later that evening.
-
“Everything wrapped up and completed at 9.20pm,” Josh declared proudly as he swung round into Sam’s office at just after 9.20pm, finding him at his laptop and Toby watching him type over his shoulder, “You guys nearly done? Sunshine Sam needs his beauty sleep.”
Sam somehow looked even more exhausted now, although having Toby reading over his shoulder and critiquing his love of imagery probably didn’t help.
But, regardless, he still looked up over his glasses and smiled softly, fondly at Josh as he sat in the chair opposite Sam, “Just doing a final polish.”
“Fifteen minutes, tops,” Toby added, “Assuming Sam remembers how to use punctuation at some point soon.”
Sam offered Toby a half-hearted glare before returning his attention to the screen.
Josh sat back, feeling a mixed sensation of contentment at having got all his own work wrapped up earlier than usual, and concern at having the time now to pick out all the signs in Sam that he’d failed to notice before. It probably didn’t help that Sam always, and he meant always, looked beautiful, at least as far as Josh was concerned.
Even tired and with the light of the laptop screen picking out the gaunt edge his features had taken on, his eyes shone with an intelligent curiosity and innocent idealism that never seemed to leave, no matter how much the world tried to steal it away.
Over the time, since at least the convention, that Sam had been working himself to the point of literal collapse, that expression in his eyes hadn’t been lost, and so maybe Josh hadn’t noticed the other stuff when he should have. Maybe, wrapped up in his own work and in things with Amy, he just hadn’t seen the peripheral, surface changes that would have betrayed the fact that an intervention was needed. Probably should have taken place months ago.
But it had happened now.
Now, Josh was sitting in Sam’s office, and he wasn’t leaving without Sam. And, after he got back from Indiana, he’d make sure to pay proper attention to his best friend. He’d intervene if Sam was pushing himself too hard, and he’d make sure he didn’t pull more than one all-nighter in a row. He’d look after Sam when Sam couldn’t look after himself.
There was some comfort to be found in the normalcy of listening to Toby and Sam’s occasional exchanges while Toby watched his deputy typing out whatever it was they were working on. It was almost as if Sam hadn’t passed out that morning. Only Toby’s hand resting on Sam’s shoulder instead of the back of his chair, and the ever so slight sluggish edge to Sam’s replies betrayed the reality. Enough that Josh’s concern hadn’t come close to abating by the time Toby declared, “Good. Send it to print, and go home. Sleep.”
“I really am fine,” Sam muttered, but the words were unconvincing and lost all credibility when he wavered unsteadily as he stood from his chair, Toby having to catch him around the waist to keep him upright.
“You’re driving?” Toby asked, accepting the coat Josh tossed his way and helping Sam into it against Sam’s continued protests that he could handle it himself.
“Yeah,” Josh grabbed Sam’s bag from his hand and slung it with his own over his shoulder, “C’mon Samuel, we are going home and getting you to bed.”
“I’m not a child. I can do this myself.”
“You lost all credibility when you failed to sleep for two days,” Toby countered, “Sleep, don’t come in tomorrow. There’ll be plenty to do the next day.”
“Okay, I got it,” Sam’s mild irritation softened to a smile as he bid goodnight, first to Toby, then to Ginger, who was presumably working late waiting for this specific speech. Or because Leo might well have told her to make sure Toby didn’t keep Sam too late.
Either way, they were out the door and in Josh’s car before 10pm.
“You really didn’t have to drive me home, Josh,” Sam said after they’d been on the road for a few minutes, “You’re going to be doing enough travelling tomorrow as it is.”
“First of all, you’re too tired to drive,” Josh countered, “Second, I promised Leo that I’d make sure you got home and into bed, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”
“You really don’t need to.”
“You passed out right in front of us today so, yeah, I really do.”
Sam didn’t have an answer to that.
There wasn’t a good answer to that because it was something that none of them - not Sam, not his friends, not his bosses - should have let happen.
But they did because there was an election coming up, and the person closest to Sam was distracted by his own failings as well as the election, and Josh would be berating himself for that at least until the election was over and with it the massive, never ending stress of campaigning.
Right now, however, he wasn’t working.
He was driving Sam home, then holding his arm as they walked up to his apartment, just in case he passed out again, and leaning on the wall, watching as his exhausted friend fumbled to find his keys inside his bag, only to realise they were in his coat pocket.
“Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve managed to write the stuff you have while like this,” Josh observed, switching on the lights as he walked inside ahead of Sam.
“President's good at delivering it.”
“Seriously, you can’t even perform basic normal person functions any more. It took you five tries to get the key in the lock.”
“It’s a sticky lock.”
“Whatever,” Josh half-dragged, half-guided Sam over to the kitchen with him, “Now, I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess you didn’t eat anything over the weekend, am I right?”
“I really don’t remember.”
“That’s what I thought. Gonna make you some dinner, then you’re going to bed.”
“I don’t think I have anything.”
“That’s fine. I can whip something up outta…” Josh opened the fridge and deadpanned, “A couple of beers, coffee, and half a dried out lemon.”
“I told you.”
“You have anything in your cupboards? Canned vegetables? Pasta?”
“Josh, I appreciate it, but I can manage. You got me home, and I’m grateful for you driving me, but you’ve gotta catch a flight tomorrow, and-”
“You don’t get it do you?!” Josh snapped, surprising even himself with the sudden anger that rose up in him, “You don’t get it! How fucking terrified I was when I saw you pass out! How my heart as good as stopped, how many possible scenarios of what might’ve happened ran through my head, how…how I…I thought, for a second, that it was something terrible, and that I was gonna lose you. I thought I was gonna lose you, and I can’t, Sam, I can’t lose you, and I thought I had,” Josh looked away, shutting his eyes to will away the tears that had formed, but all he managed to do was make them fall, “I can’t lose you Sam. Not you. I-I can't...”
He was crying now, his hands gripping the edge of the kitchen counter tightly, his head bowed. It must have looked pathetic, wretched, but he couldn’t help it. Between the guilt, shame and fear, he couldn’t help it.
“I can’t lose you,” he repeated, more to himself than to Sam, but Sam was there, right behind him, his hand gently on his back.
“You won’t. You haven’t,” Sam’s words were soft in the air between them, “I’m still here, Josh, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry I scared you today. You’re right. I’ve been pushing myself harder than I should. But there’s always one more thing to do, one more scheme to pursue or memo to read…I didn’t want to stop.”
“What happened…” Josh swallowed back his tears, tried to control them, “What happened with Kevin…it’s still getting to you?”
“I might’ve cost us the election. I trusted him, thought he was a friend, and…”
“He betrayed you.”
“Yeah,” Sam looked away, although that did nothing to hide the hurt in his expression.
People he’d trusted had betrayed him. Kevin, his father, Toby, Jed Bartlet. Even if all could be justified on some level, Josh understood that knowing that, that forgiving them, wouldn’t dispel the pain of betrayal.
“I’m sorry,” Josh whispered, “I really am.”
“I should’ve listened to you. It’s my fault.”
“It shouldn’t be a weakness to trust people,” Josh reached up to brush away the tears that had started to spill onto Sam’s cheeks, that he no doubt hadn’t cried at all this whole time.
“It’s foolish idealism.”
“Trust is a virtue. Idealism’s a strength,” Josh found himself unable to look away from the clear blue of Sam’s eyes, looking up at him, emotions open and raw within, “I don’t want you to lose those things. They're part of you.”
Beneath the hand that rested on Sam’s shoulder, Josh could feel the slight tremor in his frame, beneath that on his cheek, he felt the warmth of a growing flush beneath the damp tears.
Sam’s lips parted, just slightly, and Josh leaned in to press his own against them. Brief, tender, too fleeting, but even as he pulled back, he couldn’t bring himself to move away, instead resting his forehead against Sam’s, keeping their bodies close together.
“Josh, we agreed,” Sam breathed, “We said we wouldn’t.”
“Maybe we were wrong. Maybe…” Josh sighed and finally did shift back slightly more, keeping one hand on Sam’s shoulder while the other raked through his own hair, “I think I keep looking for someone, and then, when they’re not you, it feels wrong, and I mess things up. I lose it. I lost it with Mandy and with Amy, and this time I lost it so bad I messed up with work and I didn’t see you doing this to yourself! And, maybe, if we were wrong, if we hadn’t…that wouldn’t happen.”
“The President would never have won that election if we had, and we both know it. Just as much as we both know that we can’t now. Especially now,” Sam shook his head, took a step back, out of reach, “After everything we’ve already had to try and justify - the MS thing, the open mic, the video…you really wanna add two gay senior staffers in a relationship with each other?! And, we would have to be open from the start. If we weren’t, it would be found out, and we’d either perjure ourselves or offer another revelation of how the administration has lied to the public, who don’t give a damn that our private lives, that our relationship, is none of their, none of the White House’s, none of any one else’s business!”
Josh watched Sam’s outburst sadly, listened to the words he knew to be true, but wished they weren’t. Wished he’d never gone into politics, wished he was some unknown intern in some unknown company, and he and Sam could live as they chose, free from the threat of media attention and the risk of how their actions could ruin the future they fought for.
A future where people like them didn’t have to lie or hide, where anyone in love would be able to express that love without fear.
A belief they both held, and they both betrayed each day.
“What about after the election?” Josh asked softly, stepping closer once again.
“What?”
“Whether we win or lose, what about after the election?” Josh repeated, “The stakes will be lower. Not much lower if we win, but they will be lower. And, if we’re honest and open about it from the start, if we hide nothing…it’ll be a thing, but other things will dominate soon enough, and in time, no one will care.”
“People will always care.”
“Those people wouldn’t vote for us anyway.”
“That doesn’t mean they won’t cause us problems.”
Josh reached out to take Sam’s hand - colder than usual - and link their fingers together, “Do you want this? If we could say there’d be no trouble, that there was no risk, would you want this? Would you want us? Like we always used to say we would be?”
“Of course I do. Even with the risks, I do, Josh,” Sam looked hesitantly up at him, “I always will, and I think you know that.”
“Then, why not fight for it?” he offered a small smile, “Hey, it’ll keep us from getting bored without any more big fights after the election.”
Sam’s soft laugh in response was music to Josh’s ears. Maybe the first real laugh he’d heard from Sam in a while.
“I’m sure we can find plenty of fights. So, what’s one more?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Sam leaned in, pulling Josh into a hug, “You know the press will give us hell.”
“I know.”
“Let me write any statements for you, and C. J. handle all the press briefings.”
“You’re saying I can’t?”
“You still haven’t told me about your secret plan to fight inflation.”
Josh chuckled, hugging Sam tighter and pressing his face to the side of his neck, “I’m really not ever gonna live that down, am I?”
“Probably not.”
Pulling back and pressing a brief kiss to Sam’s forehead, Josh caught sight of the clock, of the time, and remembered his duty.
“I’d love to stay here all night like this, but I gotta get you into bed. So, I’m gonna rustle up some pasta concoction. We’ll share it, so you just eat as much as you can, and I’ll have the rest. Then, you’re brushing your teeth and going to bed. Go get your pyjamas on.”
“This is my house.”
“Yipee for you. Pyjamas. Now.”
“Okay,” Sam stifled a yawn, walking out of the room and very nearly walking into the doorframe on his way, which would have been hilarious if Josh wasn’t still worried. He’d be worried for a while, probably, and definitely be hyper aware of how Sam was doing from now on.
He should also do something about making sure Sam bought groceries, not that he was great at that himself. There wasn’t time for that.
After the election.
After the election, and after other stuff that they’d need to talk about after the election.
For now, pasta with a makeshift sauce of canned tuna and olive oil since that was pretty much all Sam had that could serve as a meal.
Sam came back from the bedroom just as Josh was transferring it to a bowl. He always looked younger, more his age really, wearing casual clothes, and particularly in the Princeton t-shirt and shorts he was wearing now.
“I put out some clothes for you too, in case you wanna stay the night here,” Sam said as he tiredly dropped himself down into a kitchen chair, massaging the back of his neck.
“I hope the shorts aren’t as short as those.”
“These aren’t short.”
“They’d be short on me.”
Sam rolled his eyes, dropping his head onto one hand to look at Josh, “Then sleep in your suit if you’d rather.”
“I’m not sure I should sleep here at all,” Josh grabbed a couple of forks, taking a bit of the pasta as he pushed the other fork towards Sam, “I’ve gotta get up early to catch the flight, and I don’t wanna wake you.”
“I’ll just go back to sleep again,” Sam shrugged, picking a piece of tuna from the pasta with his fingers and chewing it slowly, mechanically, his eyelids already drooping as he did, “Might not even get woken by the alarm…what’dya think the others would say?”
“About what?” Josh asked through a mouthful of pasta, “Seriously, buddy, how the hell have you been functioning the past few days?”
“Coffee. About us. If we…if we decide to…after the election?”
“I think C.J.’ll say we’re cute and tease us relentlessly,” Josh began, “Donna’ll probably claim she saw it coming. Toby’ll make a snarky remark-”
“I still have no idea what that means.”
“Nor do I, but it sounds right.”
Sam smirked slightly and reached for a piece of pasta.
“And, I’d guess, Leo will tell us not to let it affect our work but then he’ll also smile and congratulate us, and the President…I dunno. A few years ago, he’d have asked which ones were Josh and Sam, but I think he knows our names by now.”
“I hope so.”
“I suppose he’ll have the same concern as Leo, and when we tell him that it won’t affect our work, he’ll say that it really doesn’t matter what we do in our spare time as long as we’re not breaking any laws.”
“Bruno’d be annoyed.”
“Bruno’s always annoyed. I think he’s starting to like us though.”
“When we’re not screwing up.”
“Those rare occasions.”
Another tired smile from Sam, and they lapsed into an easy silence.
Despite his efforts to get Sam to have some food, Josh soon realised that he was, quite simply, too tired, so finished the pasta quickly himself, left the bowl in the sink, and turned instead to the task of ushering his charge to bed.
Josh wished he had a camera with him to take a photo of Sam’s half-asleep effort to brush his teeth, which kept being interrupted by him almost nodding off right there, and then him fumbling to figure out how to get his bedsheets organised on the bed, and resorting to just lying on top of the duvet instead.
Sam had lapsed way beyond the ‘as good as drunk’ stage of tired, but Josh just about managed to get his own teeth brushed and clothes changed while helping to manoeuvre Sam, and turn out the lights in the house, and make sure he had an alarm set for himself in the morning, and get the sheets over them both.
It was an impressive feat of multitasking that Josh was proud of given he was feeling pretty drained too. And, he was rewarded with Sam cuddling up beside him, already almost asleep.
They agreed not to embark on the relationship that had been simmering between them for years. Not until after the election.
But no ban had ever been placed on hugging or cuddling, and even if there had been one, Josh wasn’t about to deny Sam that close comfort if that’s what he needed. What they both needed.
Anything else would have to wait.
Just a few more weeks.
-