Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Not hearing any shouts from Josh’s office after hearing his phone ring was the first warning sign for Donna. Normally, most phone calls would be recited back to her, at length, as soon as they were over. The little green light flashing on her receiver showed that he had finished the call, and so she sat there, waiting for him to throw his office door open, ranting about anything from the arrogance of the Republican Party, to how he was a powerful, powerful man who was “changing minds, changing minds all over the place!”

Leo walking into the office was the second warning sign. Leo, who used his entire body to exude confidence, who never threw his weight around because everyone knew he was the boss. Leo, who rarely showed any emotion, even more rarely showed sadness or grief. Who had shown 5 seconds of grief for Noah Lyman, before taking a deep breath, leaning against the wall, nodding, and putting on the stoic face they all knew.

And so, Leo walking into their Bullpen, shoulders hunched over and tears in his eyes, was the second warning sign for Donna. As was the fact that he was staring directly at Josh’s closed door, as if he could see through it and was staring at the man himself.

“Leo, what-“ Donna broke off, immediately crossing the office. She used the tone of voice used often in the White House - it was the tone of voice her Mom always used when she spoke about periods when there were men around. The voice she’d learned to use almost every day at work, the voice which screamed “please, dear God, don’t let anyone be listening in.”

“Rachel died. Apparently I’m on her list of contacts, after Josh….they rang him and apparently he hung up as soon as they told him - they were concerned.”

Donna wanted to cry. For Leo, stood in front of her showing more emotion than she’d seen throughout the drugs scandal, throughout Rosslyn, or MS, or Mrs Landingham, or even his divorce. And she wanted to cry for Rachel Lyman, a fierce and wonderful woman. Who had given Josh both his sense of humour and his heart, and who she’d bonded with so strongly during the campaign that they’d sent each other Hanukkah and Christmas presents ever since.

But mostly she wanted to cry for Josh, for her friend who had shouldered just a little too much over the last few years for it to be manageable, who genuinely and unwaveringly loved his mother. He’d loved his dad, and from the little she knew of Noah it was clear to see why - but Rachel was the surviving member of the Lyman’s, the one who Josh had always had. And having seen the look on his face when his father passed, she was scared to see him this time.

Donna couldn’t cry, however. Because she wasn’t the lifelong friend of Rachel, who had just lost someone who was essentially a sister. And she wasn’t Rachel, who had deserved more time. And she certainly wasn’t her child, who - at just 38 - was the only one from a family of 4 to still be here. So she took a leaf from Leo’s book, took a breath, leant against the bullpen divider, nodded, and said “okay”. Leo smiled back at her, a grim smile, but a smile nonetheless, and nodded too. And then he knocked on Josh’s door, sighed, and went in.

Donna’s first thought was how normal the office looked. As if, in the space of the 20 minutes or so since she was last in here, the office would have been damaged, destroyed maybe. As if, in those 20 minutes, the office would have collapsed.

But then she looked at Josh, and she realised that utter devastation and world-collapsing chaos wasn’t actually that implausible. Because the look she had imagined, that one of utter helplessness, was barely anything compared to the look he was giving them. He was barely blinking, despite the tears falling, and he was gripping the desk in a way that suggested it was his only anchor to the room.

Josh, vaguely aware that people had just entered the room, but not really sure he could ID them, is screaming. At least, he’s fairly sure he’s screaming. He guesses it must be in his head, because it’s been about 20 minutes since he started, and surely in a building full of agents, someone would have come running.

He’s screaming, and he’s looking at someone - blonde? Donna? He vaguely hears his name and it’s sounds like how she says it, Donna then? He’s looking at Donna and he’s crying. He’s fairly sure he’s asking for help, asking for it not to be true, asking why. He knows he’s not being heard, and it’s like Rosslyn again, like people are stepping over him and- no. Can’t go there yet, not the time to think about Rosslyn, he needs to speak. He needs to be heard, he needs someone to hear him. If someone hears him, it means someone is left, someone is still here to hear him, and someone knows that he needs-

“help.”

Donna jumps on the word, immediately launching forward and grabbing his hands. He’s not holding the desk anymore - he’s scratching his wrists? That’s an old habit, a post-Joanie habit, and fuck, it’s so messed up that his life is broken up into things like this: With-Joanie and Post, With-Dad and Post, Pre-and-Post Rosslyn. It’s a Post Joanie habit, one that his Mom would always-

“My Mom-“

“We know, Josh, i’m so sorry. I’m so, so, sorry”

We? A second person, someone else who’s still left, who he still has-

“Kid-“

Leo then. Oh God, Leo- he knew Mom. and he knew Dad, and Joanie. Is it only Leo and Josh still left that knew her?

“She’s- They called and said she’s-“

Donna can tell the moment that Josh’s vision clears, because he starts blinking rapidly, and breaks eye contact.

“It was a heart attack whilst she was napping, Josh, did you hear them say that?”

All Leo got was a shake of the head in return, and Donna squeezed his hands again.

“It didn’t hurt, Josh, she was okay. Do you want us to leave you alone?”

Another shake of the head.

“Donna’s going to stay with you, I’m going to go get Margaret to book you a flight, okay?”

As Leo says this, he noticed the way Josh was gripping Donna’s hands, just as he had for months following Rosslyn. In the moment, he couldn’t even bring himself to care about the publicity implications of his next words, couldn’t bring himself to care about anything except this kid, who he still sees as a curly-haired 8 year old with unbridled energy, and making sure he was okay.

“For both of you, okay? I’ll get you both tickets for a few hours time, and we’ll sort it all out after. I’ll get you both tickets.”

And Leo sees the tiniest amount of tension leave Josh’s shoulders (because of course, Josh was afraid of being alone, of course he needed reassurance that he didn’t have to do this alone), and Leo decided he would rather burn the world down than let anyone give him crap for that decision.

And Josh is finally able to stop squeezing Donna’s hands, finally able to let go knowing she would still be there.

And Donna doesn’t even blink at Leo’s permission, because she’d have written her letter of resignation on a post-it note faster than it took for today to go to hell before anybody could tell her that she wasn’t getting on that plane with him.

Chapter Text

“You want to stop squeezing that bottle yet?

It was only a few minutes later, but Donna had already had to move from the floor to the desk, nudging his knee with hers. In doing so, in breaking contact, Josh had closed off, grabbing and tightly gripping the water bottle Leo had handed him before leaving, with so much force that it would have broken a bone or two, had it been Donna’s hand. He hadn’t let go, and he was shaking in a less panicked way, and more as if he had uncontrolled energy rising in him, and was doing everything he could do to push it down.

He twitched when she spoke, arm jerking.

“Josh, you’re gonna break i-“

He threw the bottle, suddenly, against the wall. He was stood now (Donna didn’t know when that happened) and his arm was still raised as if he was frozen. Donna had jumped, heart pounding as she watched him glare at the mark the bottle had left on the wall. He briefly saw broken glass on the floor, the wall swimming in front of his eyes.

“Mr Lyman, are you in there? Mr. Lyman, it's the super. Mr. Lyman, are you okay in there? Mr. Lyman!”

He turned towards his desk again, where she was sat, watching him carefully. For a second, he didn’t know if she was even in his office, or if she was actually his super, or a figment of his imagination. A ghost, more likely, knowing his luck.

“Well. You stopped squeezing the bottle at least. Good job?”

“This isn’t fair.”

Donna’s half-hearted attempt at a smile dropped, and she looked down at his desk, needlessly straightening his pens. She didn’t reply, and for some reason that made him angry, as if she was ignoring him. As if the only person who was still here, the only one left, wasn’t even listening.

“It’s not fair! 70 isn’t average life span? You’re not supposed to just…just go to sleep and not wake up! You’re not supposed to have a nap before bingo and just that’s the end of your life? Fucking…fucking 65 with my dad, that wasn’t enough to be considered fair. He raised two kids, he was a lawyer, he fled fucking World War Two Europe, and what? That’s not enough to get a few more years? And…..”

“I know.”

She’s watching him now, and he can’t even look at her, because he might break if he looks at those pain filled eyes for even a second more. Because of course she knows, she’s sat on the phone with him through nightmare and nightmare, and she’s basically the only one who even knows Joanie’s name. But of course he still has to say it, because he feels the need to stress over and over again that this isn’t how his life is supposed to be.

“16?” His voice cracks at this. “How is that fair?”

“Oh, Josh, it’s not, it’s-“

“What? Is there something just inherently unlucky about me? Some ancient curse on my family? Because it’s not fucking hurting them, it’s hurting me, it’s hurting me and it never fucking stops, it’s-“

Donna pulls him into a hug, because she’s scared of what he’s going to do. She’s scared that if she isn’t completely restricting him, that he’s going to fly apart.

“You’ve had some terrible, ungodly luck, and I can’t make it any better. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Josh. But my Mom always said I didn’t need the crappy mean girl friends because I was strong enough to do it without them.”

He laughs into her shoulder, his breath tickling her neck.

“My Mom always said that I needed to make more friends so I could get some interests that weren’t tracking the progress of laws and bills through Congress.”

“So how did that work out?”

He doesn’t reply, but he did tighten the hug, not letting go even when Margaret sneaks in to slide plane tickets onto his desk.

“We’re gonna get you through this, yeah? It’s going to be horrible, and hard, and you might want to break a few windows, but you’ll survive it. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’m going to tell Stanley that you mocked my mental health. He’s going to be mad you bought up the window thing, you know.”

“Nah, Stanley loves me. But you should call him, he’ll want to know.”

Josh sighs, resting his chin on her shoulder. He hated calling Stanley, wished he didn’t have to factor in therapist talks every time something happened. And he’d had a fairly long run without needing to get in touch - sure, he’d had multiple pep talks before Mrs. Landingham’s funeral, talking through the anxiety about the unavoidable the choir music. And there was the week that Stanley flew out and forced him into appointments after Simon died, when Josh was a wreck about CJ being close to gun violence again, when Amy found him hyperventilating at his desk, writing his resignation letter after Bartlet shouted at him, after he’d been forced to read another list of gun violence statistics and it had sent him into a spiral.

But it had been months since he’d had to get in touch, and he hated the call to the receptionist, hated having to travel to the pharmacy before work to pick up anti anxiety and anti depressant meds. He especially hated having to hide the symptoms that medication changes brought because he refused to admit it to his friends, even when he was constantly nauseous, when he was falling asleep between meetings because they caused insomnia, when he was bringing Donna into most meetings because his brain just could not keep track of most of the details he was hearing.

As he held onto Donna, he couldn’t help his mind going to the week about a year ago, when he was throwing up between meetings, unable to eat anything for the entire week it took to adjust to the medication change, bursting into tears most times he was alone because his brain just couldn’t keep up with any of the emotions, so it just chose sadness. He ended up having to take the weekend off, which he hates doing, because he just couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed on the Friday, shivering in silence until Donna (who, of course, had been on his sofa all week) found him and called him in sick.

But again, he was hugging Donna, and it helped. Because when he was throwing up, she was researching the plainest foods, and was coming up with a list of excuses for missed meetings. And 9 times out of 10, she found him crying, hugging him until he was able to calm down, sleeping on his sofa so he was never really alone. When she finally gave him back his Yale hoodie because he was just always cold, and he hated being cold. And now she was holding him and slowly stroking his hair, and he couldn’t imagine having to do this alone.

“The flight is in four hours, we’ll need to go grab some clothes from our apartments before heading to the airport. Are you about ready to head out?”

Josh hated how whiny he sounded when he said yes, but still moments later whispered “do we have a bit of time?”

“Yeah, we have time.”

Chapter Text

Donna drove to the airport, sending glances over at Josh in the passenger seat. After grabbing clothes from their apartments (which had consisted of a lot of “no Josh, I don’t care if you’re going to be spending the week sitting Shiva, you still have to pack more than one outfit”, and then tears whenever she had to point out that he needed a funeral outfit), they were finally on their way. Leo had pulled her aside before they left, making her promise three times that she’d send him the details of the funeral so he could fly out. Secretly, Donna knew that the President must be fighting hard to join Josh in Connecticut, but didn’t want Josh to be worrying about the Secret Service and inconveniencing the President just now. So instead, she just pulled into the departures parking lot at Dulles, made a mental note to text Carol and get her to pick it up later, and slowly pushed Josh towards the door, coaxing him in like a child to the dentist.

Back at the White House, the President was shaking his head slowly, avoiding looking up at Leo. As soon as he’d walked into the Oval, Bartlet had known Leo had bad news. It was the look that he only used for Josh and Mallory, the look that very clearly said “one of my kids is hurt”, one that Jed had seen on his own face and on Abbey’s for decades.

“They told us that apparently it was quick and quiet, she probably wasn’t in any pain”.

“And what about Josh?”

Leo sighed, the sigh that always corresponded with the parental look of worry.

“He’s…got Donna. She’ll pull him through.”

“You know, if anything ever happens to Donna, I’m really not sure how we’d get him through it.”

“I’ll give it to Josh, me and his Dad said the same about his sister. That he couldn’t survive without her, I mean. But that was mostly about her going to school without him. But then we said the same thing about his Dad too. I reckon he could do it alone.”

“Doesn’t mean he should, though. Or, doesn’t mean he would want to.”

And then they shared a look, one that only gossiping fathers can share, one that says “one day, we need to be taking credit for their wedding.” Leo looked as if he was about to say something, but stopped - they’d had enough scandals to last an administration, let alone one involving the Deputy Chief of Staff and his assistant.

“I’ll phone him, before he gets on the flight. I’m sure Ron and the others won’t be too happy if I try to run to the airport like I did last time, but the least I can do is let him know I’d like to.”

And after setting up the call (Bartlet really needed to learn how to use his intercom), Leo left the room, just about catching Bartlet start the call with a “Hey Kid.”

When Donna heard the phone ring and saw Josh spring up from the chairs in the departure lounge with a hurried “Mr Pres- Sir, yes. Hello”, she smiled. As if there had been any outcome of this day where the President didn’t reach out to Josh. As the pseudo parent of the group, he’d have rather walk down to the Hill and sign his resignation letter in front of Congress than let one of his staffers feel let down by him. So, despite the predictability of the entire situation, Donna still smiled at Josh, turning to face away (as if he didn’t know she was listening to every word).

Josh, however, hadn’t expected to hear anything from the President. Despite working for him for over 5 years, Josh - who had grown up watching every documentary or film about the Presidency - still acted surprised whenever Bartlet treated him as a friend. Which was why, when his phone rang and he was put through to the President, all Josh could do was stammer,

“Sir? Is something wrong?”

“Here? No, no, everything’s fine, I just heard about your Mom. Josh, I’m so-“

“Yeah.”

He knew he’d cut the President off, but Josh wasn’t convinced that he could avoid bursting into tears right in front of the entire Terminal 2, if the President (or really, anyone) put his grief into words).

“You know, Josh, when my Mom passed, I spent about two weeks trying to work out the details for the funeral. I thought I was going to lose my mind, but every time I chose something, I heard her voice in my head going “Josiah, I didn’t raise you to make stupid decisions like adding salmon to the buffet!” So, my word of advice is - if possible, let Donna choose all the details. Most people really don’t care about the food or layout anyway.”

Josh laughed at this, and it felt good to laugh. It felt good to not be on the verge of tears.

“Well, I dodged a bullet there. Jewish funerals are 24 hours after-you know,- so all the details are pretty much taken care of for tomorrow. My mom was a very, well….Donna person. She’s left a binder of details somewhere, I’m sure of it.”

“Joshua…..did you really just use the phrase “dodged a bullet?”

And now Josh is properly laughing, ducking his head as he does so.

“I’ve gotten better at it since Rosslyn, clearly.”

“Well, we had to improve in some area, someone alert the Republicans. Talking of Rosslyn though, I think that’s the only time I ever met your Mom. She shouted at the press and then baked cupcakes for Zoey.”

“Yeah, that…that sounds like her. My Dad always said it was a good job she was never a lawyer like him, because she’d bake so many things for the Jury that it would be considered bribery.”

And now Josh is smiling but through tears, and Bartlet can hear it through the phone.

“Well, I tried one of the cupcakes, or maybe 7, and they really were excellent. I always attempted to bake stuff for my kids’ schools - it never ended well.”

Josh was holding the phone to his chest now, and Donna’s hand is on his shoulder, rubbing circles slowly. When he finally replies, it’s with a choked up voice.

“Zoey and Ellie and Liz are really lucky to have you, sir. They’re lucky to have you as a parent. I was lucky to have my mom.”

“She was lucky to have you, Josh. Never forget we’re eternally proud of you. And you’re never going to be parentless, not while me, and Leo, and Abbey are here.”

“Yeah, sir, that’s…Thank you.”

Donna leans over and whispers something in his ear, and he nods.

“Sir, our flight is being called, but I really- thank you for calling. It really means a lot.”

“Of course, don’t let me hold you. I’ll be thinking of you - send over the details of the funeral tomorrow. Have a safe flight, son.”

And Josh hung up, trying not to think about the fact that he would never actually be anyone’s son again.   

And then Donna boarded them onto the plane (their seats were called first, and once again Donna said a prayer to Margaret), and held him as he cried.

Chapter Text

The drive to Westport was much like the plane - silent. Whilst Josh had muttered a few words to her on the plane, mostly about calls she’d need to make for work once they landed, he had completely shut down on once they got to Connecticut. Even when renting a car, he had merely shrugged his way through their talk at the desk, wordlessly just handing over his credit card. And now, about 45 minutes into their journey, he was glaring at the dashboard, humming in response to anything she said.

So instead, Donna was trying to make a list of people who should be told about Rachel. Not her friends, she presumed that had already been spread by the Westport Over 60s Gossip Club, but people who would bring it up with Josh, who would ask after her without knowing. People like the Senior Staff and their assistants (because knowing Josh, he would rather come up with some far fetched excuse than actually tell them), or Joey and Amy. She tried to mentally go through Josh’s phone contacts - old friends like Mackenzie McHale, and new ones like Matt Skinner.

Josh pretty much refused to get out of the car when she pulled up to his Mom’s apartment, suddenly frowning at various pieces of paperwork from the car rental place, or adjusting the AC. Eventually he just stared up at the apartment, hands restlessly tearing at the paper.

“Coming home never really felt the same after Dad died. It kind of always felt like I was going to see my Mom, instead of coming home. Joanie and Dad never lived in this building, and it just felt like I was coming to make sure Mom wasn’t alone, rather than actually coming home.”

He said all of this in one breath, and Donna just listened quietly, a hand on his shoulder. Eventually he sighed and got out the car, reluctantly moving to unlock it. And even then, when inside, he stood in the doorway and just looked, as if he was expecting his Mom to beckon him in. So instead, Donna has barrelled forward, closing the door behind them, forcing him inside.

Rachel Lyman had always been a woman after her own heart, Donna thought. Even in the few weeks she spent visiting after Rosslyn, it was clear that she was destined - just like Donna - to follow Josh around, cleaning up after him. Whilst Josh was mostly made of unbridled chaos, Rachel was clean, and organised. And this  was apparent in her house. Everything was washed up, not a glass out of place. But something about this took Donna’s breath away, because Rachel’s entire house was set up for the next day - the slippers were to the side of her chair, ready for when she got up in the morning. Her reading glasses on the table where the day’s newspaper was laying. Three pills already measured out of the pill bottle. Rachel was ready for the next day, and yet it had never came. It caused an unmovable lump to form in Donna’s throat, and from a glance, it had done the same for Josh.

“We should- she’d want me to choose some family photos for the funer-“

“Look who the cat dragged in!”

“Holy FUCK”

“Shit!!”

Both Josh and Donna leapt backwards, crying out and searching for the source of the voice. Neither of them really realised that they’d grabbed each other’s hands in the panic.

“Fuck, sorry JJ! It’s me, your Mom’s doorman let me in. I think he thought I was her daughter, he really doesn’t speak English. I just came to drop off food before the funeral.”

Donna stared at the woman who had come running from the kitchen, dressed in full business wear, but with a Harvard hoodie over the top. If it hadn’t been for her English accent, Donna would have had no way of knowing who she was, but as it was, there could only be one person who was walking around Josh’s house, wearing his clothes, and calling him JJ. They’d never met, but considering Josh was still frozen in fear, it was up to Donna to make introductions.

“Hi, Donna Moss - Mackenzie I presume?”

“Donna! Yes, Hi, it’s lovely to finally meet you. Under shitty circumstances, granted, but still-“

Finally Josh’s stupor breaks, and he takes a step forward, taking in the sight of his oldest friend in front of him.

“Mac? What are you doing here?”

“My senior producer, Jim - you’ve met Jim, right? Anyway, he was covering a story in Westport General Hospital, and he overheard the name Lyman. He called me, I called your building-“

“And pretended to be my sister again?”

Mac had the grace to look ashamed for about 30 seconds, but quickly recovered.

“Well, I never phrased it like that, but… Anyway, I’m sorry, J, i’m so sorry.. Your mom was a wonderful woman.”

Donna’s heart ached as she saw Josh close in on himself again, shrugging against Mac’s words.

“Thank you for coming, Kenzie, it’s really sweet. I know you’re busy with Newsnight, I’m sorry this takes you away-“

“Of course I would come, nothing could stop me. But it’s alright, Mr. Emotional Suppression, we can stop. Will sends his condolences though. Well, if you’re “that liberal idiot from the White House that, for reasons that escapes me, you’re friends with”, but it sounded sympathetic.”

”Tell him thanks. Or tell him he can shove his condolences and lay off Bartlet and the MS for a second”

”I’ll do that. The second Will stops hating me, at least. Anyway, I bought a load of food for the funeral, I figured you guys wouldn’t have time to pick anything up. It’s all Kosher, because I know you suddenly get guilty about religion when stuff like this happens. I also ordered in a load of basic groceries for Shiva -“

“Did you get-“

“ - Yes i got pop tarts, I’m not an idiot. Anyway…”

Donna watched their conversation, slowly realising that Mac and Josh were giving her a glimpse of what Joanie and Josh would have been like.

…

After dinner, (Pizza, with no vegetables, because even Donna and her insistence for health couldn’t deny Josh this small joy right now), Mackenzie left for the hotel she had booked, and Josh and Donna were left to sort through the boxes of photos in Rachel’s cupboard, trying to find ones for the funeral. It was a mostly sweet time, Donna deliberately finding funny or embarrassing photos for Josh to explain, and deliberately skipping over photos with the recurring teenage girl, the one with waist length braids and a sweet smiles, the one who’s dimples match Josh’s. Searching through completely irrelevant photos of Josh and Sam at college (Mackenzie making an appearance later on), smiling at the two men she knows so well being so younger and carefree, she fails to notice Josh staring at the same photo for a few moments, a look on his face that ranged somewhere between happiness and deep nostalgia.

“Which one are you looking at?”

He startles when she speaks, looking up with a sheepish look on his face.

“Halloween…1980 ish I guess? I was about 6 or so, and my mom handmade me a Jedi costume because I had been begging for one.”

“I see no Jedi costume in the photo-“

Josh laughs, but again it’s that sad laugh she’s grown to expect over the last day.

“Joanie went as a hobbit, because Lord of the Rings had just come out, and so the day before Halloween I begged my Mom to go get me a matching costume.”

And there it was again, the urge to say “that’s so sweet” or to laugh, because with anybody else it would be a cute, funny story. But with Josh, Donna can’t help but work out how many years this was before the fire, before Josh stopped being the cute little brother.

“So you were a copycat even then?”

And the tongue he stuck out at her was like a victory, because she got him to react in a way that wasn’t tinged with sadness. And they smiled at each other, and it was almost as if they weren’t sat in front of a cupboard, searching through photos of a family now mostly gone, for a funeral that he shouldn’t be attending.

Eventually, that trance had to be broken, and his phone rang. Instead of eavesdropping, Donna instead sorted through the photos they had sidelined; one of the family of four at a beach; one of her in hospital with a newborn Josh, a young Joanie peering over her mom’s shoulder; one of her sipping coffee and smiling at the camera in the White House Cafeteria, just a year ago. And one of her and Josh, grinning at the camera at Bartlet’s first inauguration, her arms wrapped around him, holding his White House Access Pass. She piled them up, and then chose a final photo - one of her and Noah, hugging on a beach, both about late teenagers. Josh had it framed on his office desk, and Donna had always remarked about just how similar Noah, at 20, looked like Josh in his college photos. Josh always smiled at the comment, but had drunkenly and tearfully confessed one night that it always hurt, because his mom at 20 looked just like what he imagined Joanie would have looked like, if she’d made it to 20. Donna had stopped commenting on the likeness after that.

Josh returned from his call, red-eyed, and dropped down next to her.

“They’ve confirmed the funeral for 8am tomorrow. There’s going to be about 20 people or so, they reckon. It shouldn’t last too long, half hour or so. We can go after that.”

“You really want to get it over with that quickly?”

She got a shrug in return, an answer muttered towards the ground.

“I’ll have a whole week to do nothing but mourn her, I don’t need to do it in front of a load of strangers too.”

Donna sensed he wanted to say something else, so simply poked him in the arm, prompting him to carry on.

“Shiva. I…I’m very grateful that you’re here, and I know it’s not just because Leo told you to, but- I mean. You really don’t have to stay for the whole week. I don’t mind if you need to leave…”

He still trails off, even with her waiting for him to continue, still shifting uncomfortably.

“Do you want me to leave? Because if it’s something you actively want to do alone, that’s fine, I’ll leave whenever, but I’m happy to stay- I want to, even. I don’t want you to be doing this alone.”

He throws a grateful smile towards her, and slowly - with hesitation - slumps down, resting his head on her shoulder. She threads her fingers through his curls, gently tugging on them. He reaches towards the photos she’d set aside, smiling at them.

“She looks just like Joanie in this.”

Chapter Text

Donna slept in the same bed as Josh that night. It was hardly unprecedented territory for them; during his recovery after Rosslyn (both physically and mentally) she would find herself in his bed, always falling asleep with a respectable distance between them, and then waking up intertwined with each other. It was a restless night, both of them waking up over and over again, holding each other until the early hours of the morning. Eventually Josh gave up and moved to the kitchen, coming back with two cups of coffee and a piece of toast between his teeth.

“Leo said his flight was due in at about 6, he’ll probably swing around here and come with us to the funeral home. Is that okay?” she whispered, checking her phone again, quickly scrolling through messages that she didn’t want Josh to see yet.

“He really didn’t have to-“
“Yes, he did-“
“There’s a budget meeting he needs-“
“Josh-“
“He’s not supposed to be missi-“
“Joshua.”

His full name, as always, got his attention. They had a brief stand off, before Josh eventually sighed and slumped down, knowing when he was beaten.

“Fine. But make sure he knows he can leave as soon as he needs to.”

Donna nodded, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Mackenzie seems nice. Very British.”

This gets a laugh out of Josh.

“A very good summary of her. She’s great, she’s….manic. She’s a mess, but in a fun way. And she’d do anything for her friends. Including, but not limited to, pretending to be my sister to break into my mom’s apartment.”

“So, did you guys ever- you know?”

And then he choked on his coffee.

“Me and Mac? Oh God no. She’s like my sister, just…you know-alive”

Donna rolled her eyes at that. Josh had jumped head first into dark humour in the last few days, and as much as it made her wince, she let it happen. God knows she’d allow any attempt at humour right now.

“So not one of your legendary college hookups then?”

“Nah, she was forced to take some of the classes I was auditing, stuff like Political Philosophy-“

“Forced? From what you’ve told me she’s almost as much of a politics nut as you are.”

“At the time she wanted to cover everything except political news, she hated it. Her Dad dragged her round the world for politics, I guess that has an effect. Anyway, with all my talented wonder, I bought her over to the dark side, and she was my election watch party friend from then on. Don't get me wrong, I love her, but in the way I love Mallory, or CJ, or-“

He paused long enough that she looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow.

“or?”

He broke off their eye contact then, shrugging his shoulders.

“Zoey. You know, any of those lot.”

She let the conversation die - he rarely spoke about sisters - any of his sisters - for this long. And she figured if she moved the conversation on she wouldn’t feel the pang when she didn’t hear her name in the list.

(Josh felt a surge of relief when she moved onto a different conversation topic - maybe she hadn’t noticed his very deliberate omission of her name.
Something about being in his Mom’s house, on the day of her funeral, made him unable to lie.

Eventually the silence got to Josh, and he pushed himself off the bed, glaring at the black suit that Donna had hung up on the door last night. Donna watched as he clearly wrestled with the complicated feelings he must be experiencing, staring at a funeral suit. Eventually he pulled it off the hanger, toying with it until Donna pulled her own outfit, a very simple, knee length black dress, off the door, leaving the room to get dressed. She’d had a slight panic about Jewish funeral customs overnight, realising there hadn’t been much opportunity for them in her extremely Protestant area of Wisconsin Luckily, the Jewish Funeral colour was also black, or else she’d have been up even earlier this morning, doing some last minute clothes shopping.

Midway through tying Josh’s tie (which was a much sadder occasion than the countless times she’d done it before, as she couldn’t help but wonder how many times Rachel had done this for Josh when he was younger), the doorbell went. She left Josh in the kitchen, letting Leo in. As they walked through the living room, he whispered something to Donna, her quietly replying before hiding a nod, opening the door to Josh. She left them alone, hearing them talk quietly in a way that only two equally-emotionally-awkward men can, instead rearranging everything they needed for the funeral. A quick text conversation with Toby had told her where she could find Josh’s (or Noah’s, more likely) Kippah, and she put it on top of their coats, adding a black head scarf for her. Eventually, they were in a cab, driving to the funeral home, and Donna was filled with a sense of sudden sense of nervousness. She’d been able to control everything so far - from making sure their flights were as soon as possible, to making sure Leo got there - but suddenly it was out of her hands. There was no way of knowing how Josh would react at the funeral, or after. Especially given-

“Wait. Why are they…”

Josh trailed off, looking out the window. Donna and Leo shared a small smirk - for people who deal with classified and crucial information every day, they were awfully proud of themselves for being able to carry this secret off for a few hours.

Stood at the entrance to the building were Sam, CJ, Toby, and Mackenzie. All of them were clearly dressed for a funeral, quietly talking a few steps away from another group of people, who Donna presumed were Rachel’s friends, and they all turned towards them as Josh, Donna, and Leo emerged from the car.

CJ reached him first, wrapping her arms around him and holding Josh tightly. Donna vaguely heard Josh start to mutter his “you didn’t have to come” tirade again, and Donna smiled when CJ gently called him an idiot. They all exchanged hugs with him, except Toby, of course, who - despite the lack of physical affection - clearly touched Josh with his words, a soft, murmured prayer that Donna largely didn’t understand. Josh and Mac hugged last, and she even got a small smile out of him, whispering “I was convinced you were going to show up with an unraveled tie, good job kiddo” in his ear.

They moved as a herd towards the burial site, and Donna - whilst of course paying attention to the eulogies given, the beautiful words said by her friends (only some of which were in English, but Donna still got the general understanding - that Rachel was loved) - the thing Donna was paying most attention to was Josh. She was holding his hand, Mackenzie on his other side, and he didn’t cry. He merely stood silently and still, staring at the coffin. The only sign that he was still with her, not floating off somewhere, was that whenever she squeezed his hand, he squeezed back. He’d declined to say anything at the funeral when the woman who worked there asked, and so he didn’t say a word, mouthing along the Mourner’s Kaddish. Even when she didn’t understand the Hebrew (until Toby, on her right, started whispering a quiet translation to her and Sam), she knew it was beautiful. As it was said, she saw a single tear fall down Josh’s cheek, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever said it himself, or if he simply mouthed along with it when it was said for his dad, and Joanie. If he had learnt it so early on that it was so ingrained in his mind, that it was muscle memory.

Josh was right, the funeral went quickly - at least, a lot more quickly than any of the funerals she’d been too before, and they were walking back up the hill towards the car again before she knew it. Other than that one initial tear, Josh hadn’t cried, instead staying quiet as his Mom’s friends passed on their condolences. Even when Leo and the others staffers left, Josh merely whispered their thanks, rarely taking his eyes off of the freshly dug ground. He gave Leo one last hug, the tiniest smile on his face as Leo joked that he’d get a few extra punches in to the Republicans, for Josh’s sake, waving them all goodbye reluctantly.

Mackenzie hung around for a little longer, distracting Josh with stories she was being sent from the newsroom. They traded stories for about 20 minutes, Donna nudging Josh whenever he forgot to tell a story that would surely embarrass him. Donna was once again struck with just how well they worked together, Mac counteracting Josh’s quietness with her own confidence, both of them having matching senses of humour, even when it was hard for either of them to make jokes. Mac gave Donna a quick run through of all the food she’d filled their cupboards with, promising that they’d meet up again soon, under better circumstances, and bid her goodbye. She hugged Josh, ruffling his hair like only a sister could do, and left with a quick “I love you JJ, i’ll call soon, okay?”

And then everyone was gone, and Josh and Donna were sat in their car, in complete silence, still holding hands. Donna didn’t want to drive away just yet, not whilst Josh wasn’t ready, so instead they just stared out of the windshield, together.

“Wow,” Josh eventually breathed.

“Hm?”

“There’s no-one left. I’m the only one.”

It broke Donna’s heard, to hear this breathless comment, and she swallowed hard. Josh sighed again, and nodded.

“Alright. Let’s go home.”

Chapter Text

It took Donna approximately 24 hours to realise Josh was going insane.

Having covered the TV in black cloth, and put the Radio in the cupboard, being in the house was a silent affair. Josh had made it clear (“Donna, this IS part of my healing process”) that she should still use her phone to check on the news and keep in contact with the others, but she still didn’t tell him much. Josh, like in most other walks of his life, sort of made up his own version of Shiva. It had always been a source of contention between him and Toby, with their varying practices of Judaism. Josh had given her a rundown of Shiva rules on the way back from the funeral (as if she hadn’t googled it extensively before the flight), but some of them he’d viewed as more important than others. Not bathing, for example, was something he deemed as “strictly not happening”, but not shaving and covering the mirrors was something he strictly followed. He had said he couldn’t do any actual work, but that he still needed to have news updates, even when he couldn’t personally use the TV or the internet. Donna couldn’t quite follow his logic over which rules were which, but she wasn’t going to question his practicing of Shiva. After a day of pretty much silence, she quickly realised Josh was reacting much like he did at that sweet spot during his recovery after Rosslyn - when he was too injured to go back to work, but recovered enough that he missed working.

There was no other word for it - he was grumpy. Between him lying on the sofa, the occasional tear rolling down his cheek, to him rolling his eyes whenever she spoke, Donna realised she needed something to engage him for the next week. In her limited internet usage (always when she was alone in the room, it felt disrespectful doing it in front of Josh, even when he’d basically ordered her to do so), she checked what counted as entertainment, and quickly picked up on a Reddit thread, a pdf at the bottom.

“Need to lighten conversation, or get to know someone better? These are the 36 Questions that-“

Donna didn’t waste any time clicking to read the rest of the title, instead simply downloading the pdf. Giving it a quick scan, she quickly wrote them out in a spare notebook, matching downstairs with it.

“Joshua.”

She received nothing but a grunt in response. Still, she persevered, walking until she was right in front of him.

“Joshua, you’re sinking into depression.”

And finally he looks at her, giving her a look that verged somewhere between disbelief and anger.

“Depression? My mother just died, of course I’m-“

“Yes, but she wouldn’t want you to be actively depressed like this. Sad, of course, but you need something to entertain your mind. So, I wrote out this thing I found online, 36 Questions to get to know each other. Now, I know we don’t need to know each other any better than we possibly already do, but it will be good to put your mind to something. There’s 36, and we have 6 days, so we can just do…”

Josh raised an eyebrow, watching her count on her fingers.

“6. It’s 6. Why am I cursed with women who can’t do maths in my life.”

“So you’ll do it?” Donna fights hard to keep the excitement out of her voice. Josh still just shrugs, but he reaches for the paper, which Donna takes as an excellent sign.

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, who would you want as a dinner guest? You’re going first.”

Donna smiles, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him.

“Someone brag worthy, like George Washington. Or my great-aunt Martha, because she had 6 kids, and I figure you have to have some stories with 6 kids.”

As soon as she says it, she knows she’s handing Josh ammunition for mockery for the rest of her life. Which is why she’s so surprised when he doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even smirk at the name. And it’s why she isn’t surprised that when she nudges him, he looks up with teary eyes.

“Someone asked me this before, ages back, and I think I said Benjamin Franklin or something. But, I’m meant to be honest, right? That seems like the whole point of this game? So, if I’m being entirely honest…my mom. I’d just have a very normal, very basic meal with her again. Just something stupid that we probably did a million times. Just, to see her again, you know?”

Donna immediately regrets the entire game, would rather go back to the silent moodiness the second she sees him teary eyed again. But it helps just a little when she sees him smile, and it looks genuine.

“Except, she can’t be the one cooking the food. Because it would end up burnt, and under seasoned, so maybe she can just show up.”

“See, that went well! 1 down, 35 to go. And I presume I know the answer to this one - Would you like to be famous? The answer’s no, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve had my dealings with fan sites, I’m staying away from the fame. I just wanna be the guy’s guy. You?”

“I just want to be your guy,”

Donna replies, and for the first time wonders if this game is going to do anything for the rumours about them, or if it will just hand ammunition to the press, and their constant ability to find anything out.

Josh reads the next one - Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why? - and merely reaches across the sofa and throws her his bottle of anxiety medication, which really said it all. Donna made a quip about making so many of his phone calls for him that she would never have time to rehearse, mostly glad that they got through the conversation without any tears.

“What would constitute a "perfect" day for you?”

“This is going to sound depressing…”

“You? Josh? Depressing…hmm no, it doesn’t ring any bells-“

“Shut up,” he smirks, shoving her slightly.

“I’d want to be at work, just hanging out with all of you guys. One of the days where we finish late and eat Chinese over poker.”

“That’s sweet. My perfect day would be the same, except my mean mean boss finally let’s me play poker.”

“Fine! If you want to lose all your money to our mega-rich bosses, fine, but don’t come crying to me when you need a raise!”

“When did you last sing to yourself?”

And again the mood drops, and Donna can feel it. “I sang the Mourner’s Kaddish to myself, last night. And I guess i’ll do so for the next 6 days, too. Don’t know if that counts, but…anyway, what about you?”

“It’ll sound stupid now….I think I sang some stupid song in the shower a week ago or so, probably Queen.”

Josh smiles at that, and he’s glad nobody else can see the blush on his cheeks. And it’s certainly the image of Donna head banging to Bohemian Rhapsody, certainly not because he had to imagine Donna in the shower.

“Okay last one, jeez it’s a long one: you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?”

“Mind. Sorry to all future girlfriends, and all, but I’d rather be able to come up with legislation for the next 60 years than look as stunningly attractive as I do currently”.

Josh barely bites back the comment that “given the Lyman track record, it’ll be more impressive that I’ll live to 90”, stopping when he sees Donna has a sad look on her face. As much as he’s using dark humour to get through this, he doesn’t want to upset her.

“Mind. Easily. I…” Donna trailed off, only starting again when Josh raised an eyebrow.

“My grandfather, Duncan, lived to about 100, but near the end his memory and stuff started to go. Couldn’t really remember my Mom’s name, would forget where he was. I don’t ever want to get like that.”

Josh is watching her intently, focusing on every word.

“Sorry, that’s- you’re the one in mourning, it’s-“

“No, no, it’s alright. Your Mom talked mentioned him that one time I met her, he seemed like a good guy. I guess that’s the one bonus of my family, at least they all went quickly. I don’t think I’d have wanted to watch them suffer, or forget who I was.”

Silence filled the room, and he glanced away.

“Sam told me…a while back, when he was upset about his Dad and was drunk and sad in my apartment, he told me about the time in the hospital, where I was so off my head on pain meds - and probably just pain, I guess - that I sort of forgot who you all were. That must have been rough, I’m sorry.”

Donna gave a tearful laugh, which matched his.

“You probably had it worse than us, all things considered.”

“I guess. That was six, though, questions I mean… and neither of us admitted any deep dark secrets or murderous impulses, so I think we’re doing well. Maybe tomorrow.”

And that night, Josh slept a little easier, and Donna didn’t wake up quite as worried.

Chapter Text

On Day 2, Donna wakes up to find Josh, cross legged on the floor, surrounded by approximately 2000 photos. Aside from being impressed by his surprising flexibility, the slightly manic look in his eyes concerned her. It took two attempts to get his attention, but when she did, he thrust an armful of photos at her.

“I’m trying to sort all of these into categories - i’m probably going to have to sell her condo, and I doubt I have room in my apartment for them all, so I’m sorting into: give to other people, throw away, and keep.”

Donna can’t help but notice that the keep piles are significantly higher than the others, but nevertheless, she joined him.

“You know, this is pretty impressive, coming from you…this is something you’re more likely to see from me….are you sure this doesn’t count as work, though?”

Josh shrugged, and made the noise that she’s come to take as “you’re probably right, but don’t tell Toby”.

“I’m…narrowing the definition of work.  Plus, the whole point of Shiva is to grieve, and almost all of the people in these photos are dead, so-“

Donna can’t argue there. As she flicks through photos, finding ones of people that neither her nor Josh recognise for the bin pile, she can’t help but notice how many of these are simply just Josh and his family. Her family had never been one for photos, instead dragging her and her brothers to a studio once every year for professional ones. But Rachel and Noah had seemingly documented everything in their kids lives, from blurry newborn photos, to pictures of them dropping Josh off at college. There were noticeable absences though, Josh suddenly jumping from about 7 years old, to about 12. Only when Josh notices her searching through the other piles (because chronology is very important to Donna) does she mention it, and immediately realisation strikes her.

“From ages 11-12ish, none of us were really in the mood to take any photos. I was very much in my “leave me alone” phase, and I think it hurt them both too much to only have one kid to take photos of. And all the photos were stored in chronological order” (Donna hid a smile) “and I guess the 7-11’s we’re destroyed, closer to the fire, I suppose. Most the ones before that were higher up in the cupboard.”

And now that he mentions it, she realises that the ripping and damage to the older photos weren’t simply something she could attribute to old age, but were scorch marks, photos that had bubbled in the heat, or burned at the edges. Even as someone who hadn’t known Joanie, hadn’t even known of her existence for 20 years, found it hard to look at one of her laughing, probably dressed for her prom, long hair braided down her back, dimples matching Josh’s. It was a beautiful photo, ruined only by the burn marks that went around all the edges, and the connotations it bought. She quickly hid it in the keep pile, ignoring the fact that her heart was aching with pain she was 20 years too late to help him with. Even with 8-11 missing, it wasn’t hard to paint a picture of a younger Josh, all exploding curls and a smile he hadn’t yet grown into, bursting with energy (some things haven’t changed), suddenly having to grow old in the space of a day, not understanding where his sister went.

“What was question 7?” Josh suddenly asked, bringing her out of her thoughts. It took her a second to work out what he meant, but eventually she scrambled for the paper, tucked in the sweatpants she’d never taken off the night before, not wanting to disturb a finally-sleeping Josh.

“We’re starting off dark - Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”

Josh coughed on his coffee, narrowly missing spitting it all out over the photos.

“Bloody hell, I thought it was going to be ‘what’s your favourite fruit’ or something! Uh, I guess if i’m thinking realistically, it’s going to be complications of Rosslyn, you know? Lung issues or something. Or, I mean- my dad’s cancer isn’t strictly hereditary, but it’s not *not* hereditary. I’d like to make it to old age, though.”

Donna’s heart breaks at that, and she can’t help but think that there’s nothing - arguments, new jobs, marriages - that will stop her from making sure he’s healthy. And secretly, she’s glad he didn’t mention any mental health issues. She thinks her heart would break if he even suggested the worse.

“Not to rub it in, but my family have a habit of living much longer than they should. So probably dying a bed-ridden, rich old grandmother that everyone hates-“

“I don’t think that’s possible, people hating you.”

“Eh, you’ve not seen me when i’m old and sick. I’ll be a nightmare, Josh, just cursing people left right and centre-“

Josh laughs, but doesn’t comment on her implication that he’ll be around when she’s sick and old. They both know there’s no getting rid of each other.

“Question two is “Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common”. I feel like that’s fairly self-explanatory, I mean…we’re very alike, or so people say.”

“Do they?” Josh looks surprised, and quickly tries to fix the offended look on her face. “I mean, I’m happy to- you’re great, it’s just…I’ve never been told that.”

“People say that the reason we work so well together is because we’re both similar….determined to finish things, can take a joke but also take things seriously, you know?”

Josh smiles softly at her, and Donna can’t even help but smile back.

“We’d both fall apart without each other, I think,” he murmurs, and Donna will be damned if she didn’t nearly cry. Because Josh’s is self explanatory: he’s a mess, but apparently her dependence and loyalty for him hasn’t gone unnoticed either.

“I think we would, yeah.”

“For what in your life do you feel most grateful?”

Immediately they both start talking, stopping and laughing when they realise their lists match.

“Work, family, friends-“

Josh cuts himself off first, scrutinising her. When he apparently finds whatever he was looking for (Donna has to try really hard to not change her expression, feeling self conscious under the scrutiny), he smiles.

“You.”

And Donna grins, and simply nods.

“I was going to say coffee, but-“

“Shut it-“

They smile at each other until Donna reads the next one, smile dropping slightly.

“I…this one will be fairly self explanatory- If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?”

Josh surprises her by laughing, but his mood has been up and down recently, so maybe she should have expected this.

“It’s pretty self explanatory, you’re right, I mean obviously I’d stop Joanie dying, that goes without saying. I guess- we never really talked about it, my parents and I, and everyone from here to Capitol Hill can surely see that this emotional repression has lasted til today. So I suppose I’d have made us all a bit more open, not as many taboo subjects. Anyway, yours is bound to be more surprising, anyway, mine was beyond obvious”.

And now it’s Donna’s turn to shrug, tucking her hair behind her ears.

“I’m the only girl in a family of 3 brothers, my parents didn’t really know how to raise girls. So, I suppose I’d have parents who weren’t so stereotypical about raising girls. Less of a stiff upper lip, less of an importance placed on diets and fashion, less of a clear favouritism for the boys.”

“That’s interesting. I guess I never pegged you for someone raised that stereotypically, always pictured you out there in the farms, herding the…pigs for the cheese or something-“

“pigs for the cheese-“ Donna repeats, deadpan.

“I don’t know! Cows, right?”

“Sorry, is that Veterinarian Josh Lyman? Yes, idiot, of course cheese comes from cows. And I grew up on a freeway, why would I be herding cows- you’ve seen my childhood home!”

“Yes, it had a doormat that said “wipe your hooves, or keep mooving”, you can forgive my confusion.”

“Yeah well, surprised it didn’t say ‘Men welcome, women tolerated.”

Josh is still laughing when he reads the next one, immediately rolling his eyes and asking to skip this one.

“Take four minutes and tell your partner your life story in as much detail as possible”, Donna reads, her eye roll matching his.

“Yeah, I’m fairly sure that’s been covered over the 6 years we’ve known each other”.

“Okay…’mooving on’ then-“

“I hate you.”

“Hey! no being mean to me during Shiva. Anyway, If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?”

Donna thinks about it for a second, still sorting through photos.

“Health. Like, immediately being able to heal people.”

Something about this makes Josh blush.

“Well, as the person who was at the receiving end of your nursing back to health, I think you’re already pretty good at that.”

They exchange smiles, and Donna is beyond relieved that Rosslyn is now something they can smile about.

“Uh, I mean- flying would be pretty cool-“

“Josh, you already fly on the best plane in the world, don’t be lame.”

“I mean, yours would be a pretty good one for me, too. Or I guess just skip that stage, and go straight to resurrection, you know? Bring back people. It would be impractical and probably immoral, but I just- I can’t think of anything else, at the moment.”

It’s easy, Donna realises, to forget about this, whilst they’re joking around and looking at photos. It’s easy to forget that just a few days ago, Josh’s world was turned upside down. That no matter the distraction, she’s not actually able to get rid of it all.

But that doesn’t mean she won’t try.

“I’m starving, want some of that cheese and fruit board your mom’s friend sent us?”

“Oh, God yes. I’ll hand it to us Jews, this habit of fighting trauma with food is an excellent tradition. Especially when that food is brie.”

“Could it brie any better?”

“Could it brie any feta, Donna, come on. Feta was *right* there, and I haven’t even had a cheese related upbringing-“

“Exactly what do you think Wisconsin is?? Just a load of dairy farmers and the occasional milk shop?”

And Donna wonders when, in the last 6 years, she stopped actually disliking the milk jokes, and instead relished in Josh’s laugh. He’s just under her skin, she guesses.

Chapter Text

Day three starts off with a knock on the door. They both jolt upwards, Josh clearly searching for some form of danger - a habit she noticed after Rosslyn, and one she hopes to break soon. She pushes him back down, looking (not squinting, as much as Josh would insist, because she doesn’t need glasses) at the clock - 6.30am.

“Fucking hell, who-“ Josh mumbles, stumbling towards the door. Donna just about has time to throw on a dressing gown over her t-shirt and shorts (not sure who she’s meant to be impressing, but still), hearing a loud, distinctly English voice at the door. She quickly rubs her eyes to wake herself up, before joining them in the kitchen, where Mac is making coffee.

“Kenz, seriously - I can do that-“

“Shut up and sit down, doof, I’m not going to let you wait on me,” she replies, making two cups, and sliding one to each of them.

Donna throws Josh a look, one that says “did you know she was visiting or is this news to you too?”

“Kenzie, listen, I’m thrilled to see you again, but it has been literally 2 days since you were here last…did you leave something here? Did you miss your flight?”

“No, No, silly. I drove up here this morning-“

“From New York?? That’s gotta take-“

“An hour and twenty, I stopped for petrol. Anyway, I had something to tell you, some good news, and I knew you must be having a crappy, crappy week, and figured you’d want some good news?”

Josh took a long sip of his coffee, wincing at the taste. Far from dissuading the stereotype, Mac really couldn’t make anything other than tea.

“Mac, I’m not being funny, but it’s 6.30 in the morning, I’m not sure anything would make me consider it good news right n-“

“I’m pregnant.”

Josh freezes, and Donna has to prod him in the side to get him to react.

“You, what? Congratulations! Is it-“

“Will’s, yes, and before you start-“

“Your child is going to be half-Republican?? Mac, you’re betraying the bloodline!”

Mac gives Donna a look, one that says ‘why do we love this idiot’, but it’s cut off by Josh barrelling into Mac, hugging her. Donna grins at him from over Mackenzie’s shoulder, and simply gives him a soft smile when his eyes close and tears start falling. She can’t help but notice the way Mac can instantly notice his shift in mood, running her fingers through his hair.

“It’s okay, Kiddo. You have the next 9 months to buy all the best baby toys for when the kid comes to visit Uncle Josh, yeah?”

Josh laughs through tears, and nods.

“Mom would have loved forcing you to come and visit. Your mom wouldn’t have gotten a look in.”

Mac gives him a last squeeze, holding him at arms length.

“You look good with stubble. Like your Dad. Listen, I have to go, I came out so early so I could drive back before work, but I just needed to tell you. That was okay, right?”

“Of course it was. Listen, before you go-“

Josh rummages through his pockets, pulling out the now-crumpled list of questions.

“Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for all your life, but haven’t done?”

Mac, to her credit, doesn’t even ask why Josh has a long list of questions in his hand. Instead, resting her hip against the door, she thinks, and softly goes “have a kid.”

Josh smiles back, and whispers “Me too, I think”, and with one last hand squeeze, Mackenzie leaves.

“You missed off the last bit of the question - why haven’t you? Had kids, I mean?” Donna asks, once the door is closed.

“Wrong time, wrong place, I guess. Mandy never wanted kids, and I couldn’t have expected a kid and worked on a campaign anyway. Amy wants them, but again - neither of us could have worked for the President and be parents….I don’t know. It’ll happen, one day.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’ll make an excellent dad,” Donna declares, and her brain can’t help but supply images of little, brown and curly haired kids running round, worshipping their dad, eager to grow bigger so they can understand words like ‘legislation’.

“I want to go back to college, I think. Finish up the credits I have, get a proper degree.”

“I reckon that’s manageable. If you decide you’re dissatisfied with the College of Josh Lyman, anyway.”

The next question - If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know? - gives a perfect insight into their life views. Josh, whilst idealistic in his politics, is deeply cynical about the people around him, constantly fearful that they’ll leave, or die. So it’s no surprise to Donna that he doesn’t want to know his future, doesn’t want to be anticipating people leaving any more than he already does.

Donna, however, is an optimist at heart (except when Congressional Investigations are involved). Josh thinks that’s why Bartlet loves her so much, because he too always wants to assume the best, and have faith. So again, Josh isn’t at all surprised when she says she’d happily know what was coming, because she wants to be sure her life is going on the right track.

Question 15 isn’t particularly surprising either. When asked about their greatest accomplishments, both revolved around getting Bartlet elected. Donna (and Josh) was merely proud of herself for getting out of Wisconsin, escaping the pre-planned life her family had for her.

Josh was simply proud of achieving something greater than himself. Getting Bartlet elected was the main highlight, of course, but pretty much anything that made Leo and Noah proud. Getting into Harvard was one that he also listed, which surprised Donna - knowing what she did about him, it had never seemed like there would be much doubt that he’d get the education he did. Apparently, however, it was Joanie’s dream, and so having a successful and enjoyable experience there simply told Josh that he was doing his sister proud, and that he was getting the life she saved for him.

Donna nearly changed her proudest achievement right there and then, because when Josh gave her a smile and said “I’m glad you got out of Wisconsin and found us, too”, she nearly listed making him smile as her greatest achievement.

Breaking for lunch (and a nap, though neither of them would ever admit it, knowing the opposition would have a friend day with the knowledge that Bartlet’s fiercest advisor, his ‘Bulldog’, was napping midday on a Wednesday. And that was without the information that he was napping in the same bed as his assistant.

They returned to the photo sorting after lunch, and this time it was a slower affair, Josh’s mania having faded over the last day. Instead of sorting them rapidly, he properly looked at each one, telling stories about the people in them. Donna eventually gave up on her own pile, lying on the sofa behind him and asking questions about each one.

“Tell me something good about your Mom?”

Josh sighed, tilting his head back to look at her. From this new angle, it seemed she looked different to he was used to - they’d both seen each other wearing the same clothes day in and day out before, from the campaign chaos to Rosslyn, but this time it was more meaningful, because she wasn’t changing her clothes specifically for him, out of respect. She’d just got out the shower (the non-bathing rule was dismissed by Josh immediately, and Donna wasn’t going to complain), her hair up in a long plait, and she was looking down at him with such kindness that he half expected to burst into tears.

But instead, he filed through memories in his mind, smiling at them as he took his time.

“I used to get really anxious about going to school, especially when I was really young, but I never wanted to make a scene, crying and stuff, so she would always squeeze my hand three times. And it stuck. She’d do it at Joanie’s concert recitals when she felt me get jealous….and it’s the first thing I remember feeling after the fire, in the hospital. She did it at Dad’s funeral too. It was like she was telling me she loved me without announcing it to the world”.

Donna’s heart burst at the image of a little younger Josh, one from the photos, sneaking his hand into his Mom’s.

“What’s your favourite memory in general? That’s question 16.”

“The President giving me Deputy. I’d normally winning the entire election, but- my dad had not long died, and I think with all of that, I hadn’t actually banked on getting a role within the Administration. I should have had more faith in Leo, I guess. But it felt affirming, like maybe quitting Hoynes and not being closer to my Dad near the end was worth it. What about you?”

“I guess one of the inaugural balls. For the same reason, there aren’t many people in the world who would invite me to a ball, but you and Leo and the President thought I was worthy to come. Also the 6th Ball had Cheese Curds, and-“

“Tell me you’re kidding?”

“No, they really had Cheese Curds- Yes, Josh, what? I’m not allowed to make cheese jokes now too?”

Josh laughed, still looking up at her with a tilted back head, and he frowns slightly as he reads the next question.

“I mean, this is pretty self explanatory, too. The fire, or the shooting, or I guess that Christmas, when I could see I was hurting you all but couldn’t really stop myself. That would be the worst.”

“Mine would be similar. Sitting in that waiting room, having just heard that you were hurt. I could barely look at Toby for weeks, because every time I did, I just heard him say “Josh was hit. It’s critical.”

“I’m sorry you went through that-“

“You should be! Getting shot, so selfish!”

“Last question for today?”

“What do you value in friendship?”

Josh turns now, properly faces her.

“Can I repeat an answer from yesterday?”

And when she shrugged, he put his hand over hers, and squeezed.

“You.”

Chapter Text

Day Four of Shiva, simply put, was a terrible day. Donna didn’t wake up until 1pm, which - whilst not surprising considering how late they’d stayed up exchanging stories and photos, but it did concern her that Josh wasn’t in bed. For the last few days, he hadn’t really wanted to be on his own, choosing to lie awake until she did, not wanting the silence of the house.

So when she woke up and he was gone, she panicked a little. Last night had upset him, but of course it had - they’d been talking extensively about his late Mom. But still, this was unusual, so she threw on a hoodie and headed into the living room. She stopped in the doorway though, taking in the scene in front of her.

Josh was sitting - safely, thank goodness - in the armchair, and to his left was a mostly empty bottle of wine. Josh, for starters, never drank wine - hated the stuff, much preferred things like vodka cokes, things that tasted like soda, but she recognised the wine as a gift they’d been given at the funeral. This concerned her more, as there had been two bottles in the bag they were given.

She took a deep breath, quickly rationalising that Josh, with his ‘sensitive system’ wouldn’t have been able to drink two bottles of wine and still be conscious. She ducked into her room, scrolling through the list that Toby had sent her about things forbidden during Shiva, and thankfully alcohol wasn’t one of them. Whilst she was fairly sure getting drunk wouldn’t be encouraged, it was good to know she wouldn’t be dealing with a religiously guilty Josh as well.

“Josh, what’s going on?”, and damn she hated that she couldn’t keep the panic out of her voice. When he looked up at her - or, more accurately, slumped his head in a way that was more in her direction, she could see that he’d been crying, a lot. She rushed to him, trying to wipe the tears from his face, but he batted her away (largely unsuccessfully).

“Josh, it’s 1pm! Why didn’t you wake me, why didn’t you- you shouldn’t be getting drunk in here on your own-“

“I’m fine!” he shouts, jumping slightly at the volume of his own voice. Josh is never an angry drunk, which is the sole reason that Donna isn’t fleeing the room, leaving him to sober up alone.

“I’m fine. Really. I just- it’s Friday, and Mom would always-“ he breaks off to hiccup - “she’d always drink a glass of wine on Friday, it was all she- all she drank. And she’s not here to do it!”

“I think you’ve had a little more than one glass, Josh.”

He shrugs, and tries to get up, but it doesn’t take much for Donna to push him back in the chair.

“Josh, stay here. I’m going to get you some water, and bread, or-“

And he’s crying again, sobbing into his hands, and Donna physically can’t leave him like this, even to make the 8 steps it takes to get to the kitchen.

“She’s not coming back. It’s been too long, I could have… I could have tricked myself into thinking that maybe she was just lost - old people get lost, and maybe the doctors were just wrong or they got the wrong house but- she’d never leave me for this long-“

As Donna shushes him, holding him to his shoulder, she can’t help but wonder if this would have happened if anyone else had been with him. If Toby had come with him, would they be sitting here, Josh perfectly sober as they practiced Shiva in a more disciplined way? If it had been Sam or CJ, would he have been made happier, forced to laugh because of their naturally sunny dispositions.

“My Dad, he- he drank a lot, too much,”Josh whispered, and it took Donna by surprise, enough for her to wonder if he was actually talking about Leo. All she’d heard about Noah was that he was a saint, a wonderful dad and husband and lawyer, one that everyone loved.

“After Joanie, he drank a lot. And then he got better, but- He was friends with Leo, and it was just what they did, to get over hard stuff. Maybe I’m supposed to be like that too-“

“Josh, no, they wouldn’t want you to get drunk just to deal with this. Honey, the reason he got better would have been for you, and for your mom, same with Leo.”

Josh shrugged again, wiping the last of the tears away, frowning when Donna blocked him reaching for the bottle. She quickly needed a distraction, one that wouldn’t involve him finishing off the last few sips in the bottle.

“Hey, okay, let’s - alright….”

Donna scans through the list, and quickly realised that none of these would help, none of these questions asking about love, and death, and family, would possibly help Josh right now. So instead, she thought on her feet.

“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

Josh sniffles, and slumps back in his chair.

“K Street.”

“I think they more meant a city- okay! K Street’s lovely. I think I’d choose Paris, somewhere with little bakeries everywhere.”

And Josh makes a noise of discontent, and mutters something that sounded like “K Street has bakeries”.

“Alright, umm - who was your first crush?”

Josh laughs now, and Donna thanks her lucky stars that he’s finally laughing, finally seeming to sober up, even just a little.

“A kid in my class, Lucy. She had curly hair and used to do my maths homework for me. But Joanie also had a picture of Marilyn Monroe up in her bedroom for a few years, and apparently I always used to kiss it goodnight.”

And now they’re properly laughing, and sure - Josh’s laugh is that kind of maniacal laugh that only happens when you’re drunk, but she takes it as a win. And a sign that they can maybe return to the questions. She skips a few that will be too close to home, and instead asks:

“If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?“

Josh hiccups again, letting his head slump down onto her shoulder.

“I think I already live like that. I’d use it as emotional blackmail for Republicans, I guess, but I’ve sort of always presumed my surname meant there was a death sentence over my head anyway. You?”

Donna looks down at him, his head pushed into her neck, and sighs.

“I’d be more honest, I guess. Tell people what I think, how I feel more…”

She trails off when he looks up at her, with his tear filled eyes. He leans forward, too close - even too close for them - and gently presses his lips to hers. It takes her a second, but her hand is on his chest, gently pushing away. And the look he gives her almost kills her, makes her want to go back ten seconds and do it differently, but all it takes is one glance at the wine bottle to strengthen her resolve.

“Josh, you’re drunk, and I’m not…you probably won’t even remember this tomorrow.”

And a tear falls down his cheek.

“And…you’re grieving, and I think this is possibly fuelled by the fact that you’re having one of the worst weeks of your life, and I’m the only one here-“

“It’s not, it’s- nothing to do with that. I want to do this-“

She stops him again, gently running her fingers through his hair and wiping the new tears away. She waits until he can meet her gaze to speak again.

“Shiva lasts for three more days. If you really want to do this, and I mean properly, well…you’ve waited 6 years, you can wait another that long,”

-and he tries to interrupt again, causing her to place a finger over his mouth.

“But if you’re just doing this to feel something, because you’re hurting and you’re desperate to have something to hang onto, you’re going to regret it this time next week. And that’s fine, Josh, it’s totally okay, but I can’t make you make this decision right now. Not when you’re drunk, and sad, and your head is in a million different places. I’m still going to be here later this week, I promise. Decide then, and either way I’ll be here.”

She starts to walk out the room, fetch him some water and leave him alone for a while, but as she turns her back, he lets out a sob, one that forces her to turn back again.

“That’s what they would all day. “I’ll be here.” Joanie would say it when I left for school, when I said I would miss her. Mom would say it whenever I had to end a phone call early. None of them are here now.”

Donna sees his breath start to shorten before she hears it. She sees his chest rise and fall quickly, too quickly, and he looks up at her with panic-stricken eyes, one’s that scream “I can’t breathe help me”. She’s been on the receiving end of that look numerous times, and she always can’t help but wonder if that was what he looked like at Rosslyn, people stepping over him as he tried to call out.

She was back on her knees and holding his hands before she knew it. Breathing heavily, in for three, out for three, squeezing his hands on each count. It was their routine, and yet every time she did it, she could help but curse the people who did this to him, curse the shitty luck he’d had. She slowly murmured pointless words of comfort, knowing just the sound of someone’s voice was usually enough to bring him back. He started replying, always in a whispered and pained voice, but still enough that she knew he could hear her - that he was in the room with her, and not on a cold pavement in Virgina, not on the grass outside his house, yelling his sisters name. She watched as his eyes grew heavy, his entire body giving off the signal that he was exhausted, that he was slowly feeling the alcohol and the panic attack, and that it didn’t feel good.

“Go to sleep, it’s okay,” she murmured, running her hands through his hair and shushing him quietly.

“It’s okay, I’m right here-“ was the last thing he heard before he let sleep take him, resting his head in her lap.

As she sat there, trying not to move so as not to disturb him, Donna reached for the list of questions that she hadn’t asked him. Skimming past ones asking about relationships with mothers, she landed on one that she hadn’t got round to asking him, the last one before the final set.

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

And sitting there, with Josh’s head in her lap, gripping her leg as if she was the only anchor to reality, it really wasn’t very hard for Donna to come up with an answer.

Chapter Text

When Donna wakes up the next morning, Josh is still asleep. Despite sleeping most of yesterday, he’d still been exhausted by the time night came, and so Donna was hardly surprised when she woke and found him asleep, cuddling the pillow between them.

Not for the first time, Donna is struck by how peaceful he always looks when he’s asleep. No frown between his eyebrows, and - granted, no dimples either - but still, peaceful is the only word for it.

She’d also never considered how fast his hair grows. It was on the longer side already, but after almost a week sitting Shiva and unable to cut his curls (which, she realises, he just do regularly - does someone else cut them? She could imagine Amy trimming them for him, but if this week was anything to go by, they weren’t really seeing each other anymore), they’d exploded slightly. And instead of growing upwards, they grew out, forming almost perfect ringlets on top of his head. His inability to grow a proper beard had always been a bit of a joke (which he always countered with “you’ll all be jealous when I still look youthful and boyish and you’re all wrinkled and old!”) but after a week he did have a bit of stubble, and it made him look younger, and carefree - despite the reality being the opposite. It was what she imagined college Josh looking like, too hungover or late after a one-night stand to shave before class.

Of course, when she saw him twitch, she leapt back down onto the bed, breathing heavily as she tried to pretend she was asleep. She stayed in this position whilst he climbed out of bed, tugging a hoodie on and leaving the room quietly. When she was sure he wasn’t coming back, she flopped back onto the pillows, staring at the ceiling.

And all she could think was: Fuck, I’m in love with my boss.

Ever since yesterday afternoon, she couldn’t stop thinking about this newfound realisation. She wasn’t stupid - she knew she’d had a crush on him when she first saw him, back in New Hampshire, with his flannel and his dimples. But over time, as their friendship and their dynamic grew so well, she was able to push it back down. She was able to focus on being his best friend, and colleague, and she did it well. To the point where she had basically forgotten she ever had a crush on him (except when he was in a tuxedo, or in casual jeans at the Bartlet farm, but really - she was only human).

And then he tried to kiss her, and she said no, and all she could think about was day 8, the deadline she’d given to Josh. Secretly she knew it wasn’t anywhere near enough time, that he wouldn’t be done mourning in 8 days because who could possibly get over something like that in 8 days. But there was a huge difference between being locked in together, a time supposed to be spent respecting and memorialising Rachel, and doing it when it wasn’t religiously forbidden.

“Donna!”

She would still go running, though.

“One of my mom’s friends - Abigail - has put a letter through the door, says she’s going to make a condolence call later today. And considering my mom spent most of her life bragging about how I was such a good Jewish boy, I guess I have to…I don’t know…let her in?”

“That might be fun, talking to someone that isn’t each other. What will she be expecting, though?”

Josh groaned, running his hands through his hair, rolling his eyes when it just kept going.

“I guess, just, I don’t know. Coffee, maybe? I can’t make it though, she’ll think it’s me doing labour, and curse me to all her little friend group. I guess I better hide all these photos too.”

“Are we supposed to pretend like we haven’t showered either?”

Josh pulled a face at this, and shrugged.
“I’m really hoping she doesn’t actually ask-“
“Good point-“
“Yeah, let’s hope.

Donna did most of the cleaning up (pretending it was because it counted as work that Josh wasn’t supposed to be doing, but mainly because he was clearly hungover, and was moving rather delicately). As presentable as they could be, having not worn new clothes for 5 days, they ended up staring into space, not wanting to move in case it disturbs the space.

Donna was sat there, wondering if he had remembered anything that happened yesterday. His anxiety meds - the ones that were episodic, not daily - were out on the table, which probably meant he remembered the panic attack, but that really wasn’t what Donna meant. In the silence (with the occasional groan from Josh whenever he moved his head too quickly), it was almost impossible to tell if he could remember his confession, her bargain.

Just as she was starting to wonder if she was destined for a life unable to know if Josh just hadn’t remembered, or was choosing not to pursue it, never able to know which it was, the door went. Josh gave one last groan, muttering “like this week couldn’t get any worse”.

“Josh, my love, I’m so very sorry. Your mother was a wonderful woman, and she will be dearly missed. I’m Abigail, I run the bingo club down at the town hall! Your mother was an excellent player. Always gave the money away, mind. This must be your wife!”

Josh threw a panicked look at Donna, stood with the door open for too long for it not to be awkward. Donna eventually stood up, ushering Abigail in.

“Lovely to meet you, ma’am. It’s lovely to hear such lovely words about Rachel! I’m Donna, can I get you -“

“Hello love, please, don’t trouble yourself. I just came to drop off some food, make sure you’re all eating!”

Josh was still staring at Donna, waiting for her to deny their ‘marriage’, but was quickly distracted by the five, giant food platters that were stacked in their doorway. Donna came and looked to, exchanging glances with Josh as she saw the piles of meat, fruit, bread, cheeses, and pasta meals.

“You know, your mother was always very proud about you off working in Washington. Never liked politics, me. Just wish they’d all get along! I pretty much just vote for whichever candidate I like the look of.”

And this time Josh’s exchanged glance was one of deep annoyance, having to hide a glare at the older woman.

“What are you two up to during this period? It’s lovely that you have each other, Shiva can be a lonely time! Though, Donna - was it? - if you needed to leave at any point, I’d be happy to come over more often for the last few days, keep Josh company.

And in a blink of an eye, Josh had his arm around Donna, placed a kiss to her hair, and said “oh no, thank you for the offer, but Donna’s here the entire time. We’re making do, it’s fine really…”

Abigail gave him a suspicious look, and Josh quickly backtracked.

“I mean, it’s obviously…difficult, of course, mourning my mom, her loss is very hard. But…I guess that’s what Shiva is all about, of course. Not meant to be easy!”

Donna has to stifle a laugh at Josh’s stammering, it become increasingly obvious that he just wanted Abigail gone.

“Well of course, dear. Your mother really was wonderful, so kind, even after everything she went through! It’s a shame you couldn’t be here very often, it must have been lonely for her.”

Donna quickly intervenes, needing Abigail out of the house as soon as she sees the guilt ridden look on Josh’s face.

“Yes well…she definitely had a lot of friends. Listen, Abigail, we were actually just about to light the-“

“Yahrzeit candle”

“and um. Well, we were going to recite the-“

“Mourner’s Kaddish.”

Abigail watches them interrupt each other, but eventually nods.

“Oh my dears, I’m very sorry to interrupt! I’ll be going, but remember to call any time you need me!”

“We will, and truly - thank you for being there for my Mom, I know she really appreciates it”, and Donna can tell that even with all the annoyance that Abigail bought, Josh really meant this. As soon as she leaves, they exchange a glance and then laugh, still holding onto each other.

“Thanks for swooping in there with the proper terms, I was about to fake memory loss”

“Happy to help. Well…at least she left the food.”

They looked over the mass of food that was spread across the table, covering every surface.

“Freezer?”
“Freezer.”

Chapter Text

On day 6, they both lost track of time, and spent a lot of the day in bed, catching up on the sleep they’d lost over the last week (slash month, slash last 5 years, because sleep was hardly in abundance when working at The White House). Eventually, they both got out of bed at about 5pm, Josh deciding that there was only so long he could lie awake without getting restless. For a little while, Donna was able to encourage him to stay in bed a little longer, but eventually she could see him fidgeting, so enlisted him to sort out the food in the freezer, defrosting a days worth of meals.

He’d once described staying still for too long as it feeling like TV static, as if every atom in his body was vibrating in a way that made it increasingly uncomfortable. For a while, she just let it happen around her, not really noticing when he would suddenly spring into action and work like a bat out of hell. It was one of the reasons he was so good at his job - when he got restless, nothing could stand in his already dedicated way of working. But, about six months or so into the campaign, she started to notice the more uncomfortable aspects of it; his frustration with himself when he had to repeat a task, or when he was forced to sit still when all he wanted to do was move.

Over time, they worked out small habits that helped - Donna would always have a go at a first draft of a paper or briefing plan, so that when he looked at it, there was less information for his brain to have to focus on, and it meant that he often had time to flit between tasks, as it was already partially done. Equally, she stopped turning his TV off, so that he always had something to listen to, even when he was working. She found a variety of excuses to get him out of meetings when he looked too restless, get him out the room so he could move about, or quick fire information onto her about the meeting, so he had less in his brain. Finally, she would give him certain tasks to do during meetings, such as doodle the person with the best facial hair in the room, or write out the 50 States names in backwards alphabetic order. Having these menial tasks to do helped him pay attention to the actual topics at hand, and even if it didn’t make much sense to Donna, as long as it helped him, she really couldn’t care less.

When she finally emerged downstairs, he was sitting cross legged on the floor (something he’d done a lot this week, Donna couldn’t help wonder if he was subconsciously following the “sit on a low stool or the floor” rule, even though he hadn’t mentioned it at any point during the week). He had a book open in his lap, and was focussing intently, murmuring under his breath. She didn’t want to disturb him, so just curled up against the wall opposite, listening to him whisper. It was clearly Hebrew, but even not understanding the words, she was enamoured. She’d never really heard him speaking Hebrew, other than the occasional phrase or two, but she was right in her presumption that it was beautiful. Eventually he stopped, closing the book and looking up at her.

“What did that last bit mean?”

“There’s no direct translation, but it was the theory of mourning for 7 days. It’s the premise of Shiva.”

“What’s your favourite Torah quote?”

Josh leant back and thought, smirking and commenting: “these 36 Questions are getting specific”.

“I kind of gave up on them, they got pretty cheesy. ‘List four things you like about your friend’.”

“In your unfailing love, you will lead the people you have redeemed. In your strength, you will guide them to your holy dwelling."

“That’s your favourite thing about me?”

Josh let out a laugh, one that suggested he was surprised to do so.

“Yes, yeah it is. You redeem the people and you guide them to your holy dwelling”

“Well yes, I’ve always agreed.”

They sat laughing, in companionable silence, until Donna glanced outside, made a noise of surprise, and got up. She grabbed him by the hands, pulling him up and out of the door, across to the front step.

“What are we-“

“I think fresh air is in order. Also, look!”

Donna tilted Josh’s head up, until he was staring at the sky. He let out a small gasp, staring up.

The sky was full of stars, more constellations than you could ever see from DC, with all the pollution.

“You see that bigger one, over there?” Donna asked, softly.

“That’s Venus. And the slightly reddish one is Mars.”

“Wow. I….I grew up about 20 minutes from here, but I’ve never really paid any attention to them.”

“My dad loves astrology, he made sure I could always recognise which stars and constellations were which. For example…”

“Oh, that one, that’s…Ursa Major, right? That NASA scientist, Alex, pointed that one out to me.”

“Yeah, it is. And just to the left, that’s Ursa Minor. Great Bear and Little Bear.”

“It’s so….clear. In D.C. the only stars you can see are the reflection of people’s lighters.”

Donna rests her head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around hers.

“You’re right on the edge of the Long Island Sound, and you’re far enough from Manhattan to avoid the light pollution. It’s probably been clear like this for a long time.”

Josh went silent, and after a few moments Donna couldn’t stand it, so nudged him.

“It was clear the night Joanie died. I don’t remember a whole lot, it was over 20 years ago, but….now that I’m looking, I remember looking at the sky as I waited for the ambulance, and there was a strong wind, so all the smoke was being blown across the sky. I watched as the stars disappeared.”

“I’m really sorry.”

He smiles down at her, and shrugs again.

“It’s alright. It’s…passing, you know? Getting better.”

“I’m glad. Oh hey - you see that one?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s a super rare star, it’s only ever visible once in a few hundred years!”
“Wait…really??”
“No, Josh, that’s the moon.”

And he’s fairly sure everyone in the apartment block can hear her laugh.

Chapter Text

Preparing to leave the house and head back to D.C. bought new challenges. The moment she saw Josh that morning, on Day 7, it was clear he was quite anxious. He was trying to pack their bag, but apparently things weren’t working out the way he wanted, and it was deeply upsetting him. After a few tries, Donna took over, sending him to go defrost the rest of the food for dinner. She’d read about a large meal marking the end of Shiva, and so had decided that all of Abigail’s platters would be eaten today. She quickly packed the last of the clothes (which, it turns out, is a lot easier when you’re not physically vibrating with anxiety), and headed downstairs.

“Hey, I found this….I- thank you for skipping the last few”.

Donna had a look at what she was holding, and found he was holding up the last page of the questions. She had a quick glance over them, but of course already knew what they asked:

33. If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven’t you told them yet?

34. Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be? Why?

35. Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why?

It was obvious why she hadn’t asked them, and why she made up fake questions to get away with it.

“It…would have been easy to just ask them, and I’m glad you didn’t. It was really sweet of you.”

“Josh, of- of course I wouldn’t have just asked them. I never want to make this time harder for you.”

Josh nodded again, but that tight lipped smile she’d come to expect at the start of this week, the one she wished she didn’t see again.

“So, uh, this is all defrosted, if you want to-“

“Sure!”

Josh took a deep breath and sat down, hands trembling as he passes out the food. He keeps talking, keeps rambling about the flights for tomorrow (again, thank you Margaret), talking too fast, until Donna had to put her hand onto his, stopping him.

“Joshua, calm down. Let’s take a deep breath, yeah? What’s happening?”

Josh did as he was told, watching her intently.

“For the last week…we’ve just been here, and I haven’t had to field questions about how I’m doing, and what happened, and stuff about Mom that I don’t want to answer. But as of tomorrow, we’re going to be back, interacting with everyone and….when a parent dies, people treat you differently. People bring you coffee, and food, and give you sympathetic smiles, and I just hate it. It was the same after Rosslyn.”

“Most the people who know you well, know not to be like that. And most the others either don’t matter, or don’t even know what happened. I think you’re building it up to be worse than your expecting.”

Josh hummed, clearly not convinced.

“I can drop into conversation to all the assistants that they shouldn’t bring it up? You know the rumour mill and the assistant hierarchy, if Margaret says not to mention something, nobody will dare. Would that help?”

Josh finally smiles at her, and holds her hand, and it looks as if she’d finally worked it out, helped him out. She loved that feeling.

Slowly, they start to eat, a huge variety of fruits and desserts. They mostly stick to light topics, and find themselves creating a ranking of all the food. Donna swears that a Garlic Chicken Pasta is “the best thing she’s ever tasted”, whereas Josh sticks to the cheeses and fruit, eating more than he remembers ever eating in recent memory. They drink wine - the last bottle left as a gift, and Donna fights hard to not mention what happened last time he drank. Even when the food is finished, they stay there, talking, even after the sun sets and the only light is from the Yahrzeit Candle. They pack together, in silence, and for the final day of Shiva, Josh reads the Mourner’s Kaddish aloud, and cries for the first time in a few days. And this time, Donna cries too, finally feeling as if Josh was going to be alright if she let down her guard too.

Alone in their room, when Josh was finishing his prayer, Donna sits down with her phone to check on the flight times tomorrow. She opens up Google, and it feels strange - even with Josh insisting he’s fine with her using her phone, she just read out the news alerts she got, never googling anything specific. In fact, the website was left open from when she first searched for the list of questions, their main pastime over the last 7 days. She finally loads the title in full, ready to leave a comment praising whoever wrote it, but pauses.

And frowns.

She’d never read the title in full before, too eager to download the questions, but now she was sat here, reading it in full.

“Need to lighten conversation, or get to know someone better? These are the 36 Questions that lead to love”

Donna stares at it for a while, and then closes the tab. And turns her phone off.

Looks like not everything you read on the internet is fake.

Chapter Text

Josh cried a little locking up the apartment. He hadn’t quite decided what he was going to do with it just yet, but he knew the next few weekends would be spent going to and fro from work and Connecticut, sorting out all of her things. Before this week, he thought he’d hate having to leave work so often, but he now realised that he couldn’t tackle the whole situation in one go.

When his Dad died, CJ - the only other person his age in the group who had lost a parent - had told him to not expect it to go back to normal all in one go. It hits you in the littlest moments, and now - almost 6 years after his Dad died - he knows it more than anyone. Standing in the departures lounge, tears pricked his eyes as he remembered his phone call with the President.

And he held Donna’s hand as they took off, watching out the window as Connecticut grew smaller and smaller in the distance. It felt as if he was leaving his Mom behind, had to keep reminding himself that she was buried in between Joanie and Dad, that she was with more family than he would be with for a while.

Neither of them spoke much on the hour or so they were on the flight. It kind of felt like they’d been away from DC for much longer than a week. Seeing the Washington Monument come into view, it felt a little wrong that their city had remained unchanged. Even still, Donna gave a watery smile towards the view. Her heart always ached with happiness when she saw DC emerge - she was so lucky to call this home.

Josh wanted to head straight into work, it only being 10am, but Donna insisted that they head back to their apartments to freshen up and drop their clothes off beforehand. They shared their cabs there and back, Donna beyond glad to see all of the stuff. It seemed excessive, though, to see all her clothes. Having spent a week focussing on nothing relating to beauty, fashion, or really anything physical besides basic cleanliness, it felt as if she should live that way forever. Putting makeup on before the flight felt as if she was getting ready for some huge ball.

Josh, however, was thrilled to be back in a suit. It felt as if he was human for the first time in a week, and as the cab turned onto Pennsylvania Avenue, he can’t help but smile. His mom loved that he worked there, loved how happy it made him, and he hoped that coming into work each day would feel like a tribute to her, just a little.

Having shielded tearful hugs from every member of staff, including the President, Josh and Donna finally made it to his office. They stood, leaning against the door, as if they’d just walked through a war zone.

“Well then. Back to work!” Donna says, and smiles at him before reaching for the door. He grabs her hand before she gets there, turning her around.

“There was one last of the questions list left.”

He pulled out the extremely crumpled and ripped piece of paper, now very worn down from being shoved in pockets. He reads out the final question:

“36. Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it.”

He looks at Donna, smirking as she raises an eyebrow, expectantly.

“So, partner, my personal problem is that I’m deeply in love with someone, and I think she thinks I forgot about her dumb little deadline, but I didn’t, because how could I forget a deadline for something I’ve waited my whole life for? So, I think I need advice - how do I tell her than drunken me might be stupid, but I’m not dishonest. And life is way too short, and I’m not quite sure how to tell her.”

Donna’s shaking her head, laughing tearfully, and she grips his hand.

“Well, partner, my advice is that you should kiss her. And I think she’ll be very happy about that, because he might have been waiting all his life for her, but somehow she’s waited longer. For you to come along. And it’s about damn time that you-“

He cuts her off with a kiss, cupping her face with his spare hand. He holds their joined hands behind his back, laughing as they break off the kiss, foreheads together.

And then she squeezes his hand three times, and Josh thanks his Mom, the stars, and everything in-between that he found her.