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And now, on with the show.

~*~

Ten

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I am become death, the shatterer of worlds.

--Oppenheimer

When the first gunshot split the air, Gina had thrown Charlie and Zoe to the ground, her only thought their safety. She felt more than saw several other secret service agents spring to life, two grabbing the President and unceremoniously stuffing him into his limozine while two more provided cover. She hoped that the bulletproof vests all the agents had been instructed to wear would be enough. Several very tense moments passed as the shots continued, until their frequency dropped, and then they ceased altogether. Gina reacted immediately, checking Charlie and Zoe for injuries. They were both unharmed, but clearly frightened into a near state of paralysis. "Get up," Gina said in a sharp voice, not wanting to be harsh but knowing it might be the only thing that saved them. At first, neither moved. "Get up!" she shouted fiercely. Charlie snapped out of it first, and immediately jumped to his feet and helped Gina drag Zoe to the same limo her father had been forced into. Zoe didn't struggle, she just stumbled along, clearly in shock. Gina breathed a momentary sigh of relief as she slammed the limo door shut and the tires squealed as the driver hurried the President, Charlie, and Zoe to safety. Two other agents, the one's who'd recently put the president in the limo, joined her. "They're in the building now," one told her, and she nodded. Gina was looking about, trying to assess the damamge, when she heard the words in her earpiece. "Webster's down. Took two in the chest." That voiced sounded shakey. "We've got an ambulance en route now." "Flamingo and Princeton are unhurt and in the limo." "Dragonfly's been hit in the arm. He went unconscious just a second ago, but he was lucid before that." "Montana's alright, and in the limo too." Gina swept her gaze over the pavement and spotted the two tight knots of agents that could only be the two injured staff members. She swallowed, the shaken agent's words echoing in her head. Webster's down, took two in the chest...

CJ and Sam were quite forcefully checked for injuries and before they'd even had time to realize they weren't hurt they were being herded into a limo. CJ was still too scared to protest loudly, and Sam wanted it to just end. They both sat in the limo for a few seconds, rigid with fear. They jumped when the door opened and Leo was shoved inside. He looked across at them both, concern in his eyes. "Are you two okay?" he asked. They nodded. "We're not exactly at 100% but we're still alive and mostly uninjured," Sam managed. "Did you--did you see if--" "No," Leo replied grimly. He was trying to make out anything through the tinted glass but couldn't. They all flinched at the sound of squealing tires. "The President," CJ murmured. Leo nodded. "And Zoe and Charlie." He didn't add, "If they're alright," although it was on the tip of his tongue. Sam and CJ seemed to hear the words anyways. They waited a few more tense moments, wondering if their limo would speed away, leaving them to worry over what had befallen the others, or if they'd suddenly be joined. Finally, CJ couldn't take it anymore. She turned to the secret service agent seated in the front seat. The limo driver was clearly nervous, gripping the wheel with what seemed like desparation. "Where are Josh and Toby?" she demanded. The agent looked like he was about to answer when Leo caught sight of something through the dark tint of the limo's windows. "Oh God," he murmured. There were two small crowds of agents, all giving significant protection for two bodies lying on the ground. It was difficult for Leo to tell if it actually was Josh or Toby, as the secret service agents offered little if any visibility. Then one of them shifted, and Leo caught sight of Josh's suit. He still couldn't see Toby. "Oh no," CJ whispered, joining Leo at the window. She watched, hoping for some indication that they were alive, but the agents weren't dispersing. The long wail of a siren, of many sirens, could be heard in the distance. Sam looked over at the agent. "How--how bad is it?" he managed, the words catching in his throat. The agent looked uncomfortable. "They can't say, sir," he lied. Sam looked away, accepting the answer. Josh. Toby. Christ, this can't be happening.

Donna's heart was pounding so loudly, she couldn't hardly breathe. A secret service agent had she and Margaret pinned against the wall of the building, and the shouting voices of the crowd made it impossible to hear anything but the gunshots echoing off the buildings. Donna froze, cowering and terribly afraid, wishing to God she was anywhere else. A glance at Margaret's tightly shut eyes told her the other aide was thinking something similar. Then, mercifully, the shots ceased. For a moment Donna didn't dare believe it was actually over, but after a few more seconds yeilded no further shots she tried to stand. The agent roughly grabbed her arm and pulled her down, shaking his head sharply. Donna bit her lip and looked around. Josh. Where's Josh. She craned her neck, hoping for a look on the other side of the fence. She couldn't see anything; the roiling crowd and the agents were blocking any view she might have otherwise had. "Is everyone alright?" she asked, her voice surprisingly steady. The agent looked over at her and shook his head. "I don't know, ma'am." Margaret had gotten over her panic and was now looking around as well. "W-Where's Leo?" she stammered, sounding worried. Donna tried to spot the chief of staff's tan suit in the brief flashes the milling agents' offered, but couldn't see him. "Maybe they've already gotten him in a limo," Donna suggested hopefully. Margaret nodded, clearly desperate for something positive to cling to. "Right, right, they'd've put him in really quick." "Right." "I'm gonna need both of you to come with me," the agent said suddenly, standing. He took Donna's arm, and they were joined by another agent who took Margaret's arm. "Where are we going?" Donna asked, trying to spot Josh over the confusion. She still couldn't see him. He's already in a limo, that's it. "Back to the White House, ma'am," the agent said brusquely. Donna and Margaret were hastily escorted to a limo and all but shoved in. As soon as the door shut they saw CJ, Sam, and Leo. Margaret cried out upon seeing Leo and gave him a rib-breaking hug, which Leo extracted himself from after a few moments. Despite mild embarrassment over Margaret's display of affection, he seemed imensely relieved to find her unharmed. Donna looked around. "Where's Josh?" she asked, her panic rising. She noticed a second later that Toby was also missing. "And Toby?" Sam swallowed. "Josh and Toby are on their way to St. Mary's, and we're on our way to the White House." As if on queue, the limo suddenly lurched forward, and everyone except Donna scrambled for a seatbelt. She was bereft of speech momentarily. "S-St...Mary's?" she managed at last. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes and her throat tightening. "W-what--what happened--" "We don't know," CJ said softly. "Just that, they've been shot. They won't say anything else." Donna choked and covered her mouth with her hand, her thoughts scattered like dry leaves on a stiff autumn wind. Margaret put an arm around Donna's shoulders, and she shut her eyes, crying as quietly as she could manage. Oh, oh God. Not Josh. Please. "C-can't we--can't we go to the hospital?" she asked, her voice breaking. The secret service agent shook his head. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but we couldn't possibly--" He suddenly stopped speaking his eyes went unfocused as he listened to his earpiece. He blinked in surprise, then leaned over to the driver, murmuring something. The driver nodded. "What?" Leo asked. "We're going to St. Mary's, Mr. McGerry." Donna felt slightly re-assured, and glanced over at Margaret, who squeezed her hand comfortingly. She couldn't bring herself to be calm, though. Not with Josh in an ambulance. Donna shut her eyes for a moment, and wished freverently that she knew a prayer.

President Bartlet liked to think he was a strong man, but as the secret service agents efficiently crammed him into a bulletproof limozine while his senior staff were being fired upon, the fear nearly choked him. Zoe! Christ where's my daughter?! That was his first thought, for Zoe. It was an immense relief to him that the service actually got she and Charlie into the limo as soon as the shots stopped, and only then did the car beat a hasty retreat to the White House, at top speed. At least, that's where the driver and the two agents had intended to go. Bartlet held his shaking daughter and met Charlie's wide-eyed gaze and steadily as he could. After a few seconds of quiet, his mind seemed to get back on track. God, my staff. "Where are we going?" Bartlet demanded. The driver glanced back at him. "Home, sir." "What about my staff?" One of the agents held up his hand and was listening intently to his earpiece. His face changed, and Bartlet felt a small iceberg settle in his gut. "What is it?" he asked stonily. The agent almost squirmed. "Two of the staff have been injured, sir. They have ambulances on the way." "Who?" Charlie asked, looking panicked. The agent glanced at him, then Bartlet. "Mr. Lyman and Mr. Ziegler." Zoe squeezed her eyes s--- tight and felt tears slide down her cheeks. Charlie blanched and sat back, looking sick. Bartlet remained cold. "Take us to wherever they're going." "Sir--" "I don't care if you have to have every secret service agent in this country there to protect me, I'm going to be at that hospital with my deputy chief of staff and my communications director when they arrive, is that understood? And I want the rest of the staff sent there too." The agent nodded slowly, and said something into his mic. He indicated a turn to the driver, who deftly altered the limo's course. He was grimacing while he did it, though. Hang in there, you guys, Bartlet thought to himself grimly. Hang in there.

Toby couldn't honestly say that he felt the pain before he heard the gunshots, but it certainly seemed that way in his memories. The initial moments after the shooting were very muddied, though, so he didn't put too much stock in their validity. The first clear things he could remember were the chainlink fence he was bounced off by the scret service agent that tackled him, and the incredible pain in his arm. He didn't have the thought to speak or react, he simply lay there, his racing heart sounding almost as loud as the gunshots raining down from somewhere above them. He shut his eyes and shivered, the throbbing in his arm taking a back seat to the fear that a fatal bullet was moments away. The gunshots ceased as suddenly as they'd begun, and the secret service agents could be heard shouting to one another, but only barely. The screams and shouts of the panicked crowd drowned out almost all other sounds. The agent covering Toby levered himself up slightly, murmuring, "Stay down, sir," to him softly. Toby nodded, and the movement sent a fiery pain shooting through his right arm. He looked over at the blood soaking into his suit, and his first thought was, "Oh, that's never coming out." It was the inappropriateness of the thought that made Toby want to both laugh and cry. What the hell was happening? He'd just been shot. SHOT. Granted he was a member of the senior staff and a high profile person but really now-- Oh, God. Toby immediately began looking around. The President. Zoe and Charlie, God, what if that's who they were after. Sam. Leo. CJ? Josh. Toby looked to his right, and for a moment, he couldn't even think. There was blood pooling beneath the secret service agent who'd pinned Josh down. But the agent didn't appear to be injured. "Josh?" There was no response, although Toby'd not spoken nearly loud enough to be heard over the din of the scattering spectators and the shouting agents. His agent slowly stood and was immediately joined by two others who blocked Toby from anything that might come his direction, be it bullets or people. Unfortunately they were also blocking his view of any other staff members. "What happened? Is everyone else alright?" Toby asked, trying to stand. He was struck by how shakey his own voice sounded. His rise was immediately halted by one of the agents, the one who'd covered him. "Please stay down, sir." Toby looked to his right and was given a very brief view of Josh. For a moment Josh's head turned to look at Toby, at least he thought Josh was looking at him, then an agent blocked Toby's view again. Blood. There had been blood coming from the corners of his mouth. Oh my God, Josh. This, this isn't-- "Please tell me someone's called an ambulance," Toby said softly. His arm was already forgotten. Although he had no view of Josh, who was now surrounded by a varitable armada of agents, he was sure that he was going to be needing the ride to the hospital a lot more urgently than Toby was. Before an agent could answer him the long wail of a siren was heard. It was actually a fire engine responding first, although close on its heels were two ambulances, several more fire engines, and almost every cop within a five mile radius. Listening to the keening sounds of the emergency vehicles, Toby suddenly realized how cold and sick he felt. The hairs stood on the back of his neck, and a violenth shiver had him wondering when it had suddenly gotten so cold. The ground seemed to tip and overtake his limited view of the sky above. Toby never felt his head hit the concrete.

Josh's memories weren't quite like Toby's. He definitely remembered hearing at least one gunshot. That had been the one that got Toby in the arm. Then next two had gotten him. Being shot in the chest hadn't felt anything like he'd expected, not that he'd ever actually sat down and thought about it in detail. It had been like two terribly swift and mercilessly punches to the chest, followed immediately by a pain that refused to let him breathe. He'd been pinned down by the agent then, making his breathing even more difficult. He couldn't speak, and only one thought repeated in his mind over and over. What the hell just happened? Josh had taken a deep breath, or tried to, but the pain on the left side of his chest had been intolerable. He'd also felt something like liquid in his lungs, and everything had suddenly seemed far too dark. It might've been the secret service agent holding him down. Everything that came after that was confused. He thought he heard Toby say his name, and he might have even turned to look over at him, but he couldn't really remember. A small forest of legs in black pants and dress boots had suddenly sprung up around him. The word 'ambulance' was being used a lot, and people were screaming. Or maybe that was a siren, or several sirens. It was impossible to tell. What's going on? Someone, a few someones, were saying his name. No, maybe it was just a single person. But they weren't saying Josh, they were saying Mr. Lyman, and in his now drifting mindset it occurred to him that it couldn't be anyone else in the senior staff because they never would've called him Mr. Lyman... Have I been shot? Those were gunshots I heard. Where are the others? Are they okay? His breathing felt short and shallow, and every gasp was agony. He could taste and feel blood in his mouth. He couldn't hardly see anymore. There were flashing lights, and dark clothes. All the sounds were swimming together, and then they seemed to be one sound, and one vision of complete and total confusion. I have been shot, haven't I. God and it hurts like hell, too...wait, Toby was right next to me...where's Toby?... And then there was nothing at all.

~*~

All of us get lost in the darkness the dreamers learn to steer by the stars...

--Rush, "The Pass"

The large assembly of police officers who'd arrived on the scene were put to good use as soon as Josh and Toby were loaded into their respective ambulances. They paved a nearly trafficless route all the way to St. Mary's hospital, a fire engine at either end of the procession. Four patrol cars with secret service agents flanked the two limozines that held the president and the remainder of his staff as they attempted to catch up with the ambulances, but without the benefit of the cleared streets they fell behind. Toby and Josh were at the hospital in less then seven minutes, a tribute to the officers' careful planning in clearing the roads quickly and efficiently, and the expertise of the EMT's driving. The hospital security team had already been alerted, as had the staff. Dr. Lissar Novak was the Chief Attending, a mid-forties woman with long, straight brown hair that was pulled into a neat french braid that just brushed her waist. Her eyes were a warm, hazel-brown color, and her features matronly and soft; she would put one in mind of a mother, although she wasn't. Lissar's cheif resident was a young man by the name of Dr. Cerwin Wallace, who chose to wear his hair in a series of long braids that ended in beads of varying design. He had several earrings, and underneath his scubs there was usually an odd t- shirt of some style or another. Cerwin's less than clean cut appearence often drew strange looks from his peers, but he'd come this far without compromising his personal tastes, and he wasn't about to start on account of a few odd looks. Lissar couldn't've asked for anyone better in a situation like this. Cerwin was coolheaded, calm, and methodical, and with two members of the White House Senior Staff on the line, she needed everything done right, and most of all, she needed to save them both. One of the two men was worse off than the other, or so the ambulances had called in. Two GSWs to the left chest. No apparent heart injury, but he was bleeding profusely and they were having a hell of a time controlling it. His pulse was weak and thready, and he'd been unconscious the whole time. Fortunately, he'd also continued breathing and not arrested. Lissar counted that as a good sign, for now. The other victim was decidedly better off, with a single gunshot to the left arm. He was fading in and out of consciousness, but otherwise stable. Lissar hated to shuttle Cerwin off to something as mundane as digging out a bullet and administering a tetnus booster, but she had to make sure nothing went wrong if he went south, and Cerwin was the only person she trusted. "Cerwin you take the GSW to the arm," she said as the doors to the ambulance bay opened. It was obvious that the first gurney held the more seriously injured; the EMTs had blood all over their gloves, and blood was fairly dipping from the gurney. Lissar rushed forward, a crowd of nurses and doctors following in her wake. Cerwin held back as the second gurney was brought forward. He could hear the EMT giving Lissar the bullet, and caught some of the phrases, wincing. That one's going to be tough, and I don't envy her one bit, he thought grimly. Lissar paused and called out to a medical student. "Jason page and call Dr. Ron Burry for me. Tell him we need him here now. I don't care how you get ahold of him, just do it." Cerwin silently approved of the call. If the guy made it to surgery, Dr. Burry was the best choice. If he made it to surgery. Cerwin tried not to think of it in those terms and concentrated on his own case. The second gurney rolled out of the ambulance, the EMTs considerably less frazzled than the previous pair had been. Cerwin stepped forward, taking a position on the gurney's railing and listening to the EMTs carefully. It was going to be a long, long night.

Toby blinked and looked around himself. There were lights, white ones now, flashing by quickly, and a fair gaggle of voices shouting orders and asking questions. He wasn't sure if he was the one being asked, but as he couldn't make them out he supposed it was a moot point. He was lying down on something that was moving rather quickly if the air rushing over him was any indication, and there was a certain smell... Toby's last conscious thoughts caught up with him, then ran him over like a freight truck. His confusion melted like ice in summer. Josh. "Where's Josh?" he asked, trying to sit up. Pain shot from his right arm and robbed him of his breath and any forward motion he'd achieved. The nurses and doctors surrounding the gurney were surprised and one of them immediately planted her hand in his chest, gently urging him to lay back down. Toby complied, but only because he was in too much pain to resist. "Please lie down, Mr. Ziegler," someone behind him said calmly. "Where's Josh?" Toby asked again, the pain in his arm easing. He looked about himself frantically. He was in a hospital, being wheeled from an ambulance bay probably. There was shouting, and to his left he saw another gurney being wheeled through the hospital. "Liss take him to Trauma 1," one of the doctors standing next to Toby called. Toby craned his neck, and just as the gurney was turned and wheeled into a room he could see Josh, an oxygen mask over his face. There was blood all over the gurney, and all over the gloved hands of the paramedics walking quickly with the doctors. "Oh my God..." Toby murmured, his stomach turning. "What--what's happening? Is he dead?" he asked the young man who was now leaning over him and adjusting something on his IV. His gurney was continuing its journey into the hospital. "They're going to do everything they can for him, Mr. Ziegler, but right now you need to lie down and stay calm for us," the young doctor said in a steady voice. "Tim let's take Trauma 3," he told one of the RNs. The short, darkhaired nurse nodded and helped turn Toby's gurney about. "Mr. Ziegler my name is Dr. Wallace." Toby hardly registered the information, but the doctor continued as if he'd acknowledged him somehow. "Did you lose consciousness when you were shot?" the young man asked as he filled a needle with something clear. Toby sighed, trying to focus on the question. "N-no, I passed out afterwards." The doctor nodded. "Alright, we're going to give you something for the pain, and try and get that bullet out of your arm. We have to give you a tetnus booster just in case." Toby nodded, offering his left arm willingly, then he paused and caught the doctor with his hand. "Is Josh going to be alright?" he asked carefully. The doctor looked at Toby for a moment, obviously torn. "I don't know, Mr. Ziegler," he said reluctantly, "but Dr. Novak is the best we have. If anyone can save him, she can." Toby nodded and stared out across the trauma room, his thoughts drifting as the pain medication took hold. This can't be happening. It can't be.

Cerwin gave Tim instructions to finish up with Toby and left the trauma room in time to see Lissar and her people wheel a gurney into an elevator. She stood for a few moments after the doors closed, dazed, then finally turned away and walked back to the trauma room. Cerwin joined her. "How'd it go?" he asked. She pulled off her gloves and apron and tossed them both into the trash with a sigh. He noticed the blood on them and grimaced to himself. "It went. He'll make it to surgery, but as to making it through surgery, well..." Lissar stopped. She was staring a small metal tray, which held two bullets. "We'll see," she finished softly. "Good thing, calling Dr. Burry," he told her, more to break the silence than anything else. "He's the best." Lissar nodded and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "The President's coming here, isn't he?" she asked, her tone indicating that the proper response was 'no.' Cerwin hated to disappoint her. "Yeah, they're about 2 mins outbound. Should we lock them in the lounge?" "Sounds good to me." Cerwin nodded, and put a hand on Lissar's shoulder, reluctantly. "We did the best we could," he told her. She laughed softly. "Yeah, too bad I get to answer to the President, if my best wasn't good enough." Cerwin couldn't think of anything to say to that, and so he didn't. They stood in silence until Tim came to get them, announcing the arrival of the President and his senior staff.

They invaded the ER of St. Mary's just minutes after Josh was shipped off to the OR. Tim had intercepted them before they began searching the hospital and, at Dr. Novak's direction, coralled them all into the lounge. The secret service agents peered about themselves like nervous hawks, and Tim all but tiptoed out of the room once he'd settled everyone. He'd left them with the knowledge that Toby looked to be doing fine, and they'd let people see him in an hour as long as he remained stable. It was a small thing, though, in the face of Josh's internment in the OR. Donna took a shakey breath and sat down heavily on the old vinyl couch, pale and shivering. "I can't believe this," she said softly. Leo quickly joined her and put his arm around her shoulders. There was more silence, during which Bartlet paced back and forth. Leo finally spoke up. "Mr. President..." he said. Barlet turned and looked at Leo, his expression one of barely-contained frustration. "Yes Leo." "You're amking us dizzy," the chief of staff said quietly. Bartlet held back a sharp reply and rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry, I won't...how did this happen. HOW did this happen." No one dared answer the question. The secret service agents all avoided Bartlet's steely gaze. "Not one shooter. Not one but THREE. Christ if they'd been decent shots we'd ALL be dead. How the hell did this happen?!" "Sir, not that I wouldn't like to have that question answered," Sam said, his voice shaking slightly, "but I think shouting isn't going to help Toby and Josh." Bartlet glared at Sam for a moment, then shut his eyes. He could feel his throat tightening. Damnit. Damnit. "You're right, Sam," he murmured, looking out the small window in the lounge's door absently. "You're right." They continued to wait in silence.

Miles and almost a world away, Joey Lucas sat in front of her laptop, the click-clack of her keys the only sound in the small office. Kenny had gone to get a snack, leaving Joey to herself. It was late in the White House, and many of the other office assistants had gone home. With the majority of the staff at the Town Hall Meeting, Joey found herself alone in the warren of cubicles and offices. She paused in her typing and glanced just to the left of her laptop, where a small, blue coffee mug sat. It was currently filled with slowly cooling tea, but it wasn't the recently poured earl grey she was thinking of. This is a White House coffee mug. Although she didn't have a voice to supply for Josh's words, they drifted lazily in her head. She looked away from the coffee cup and focused on the computer monitor in front her, where the cursor blinked impudently. Joey started to type again, trying to firmly anchor her thoughts to the brief. She got to the end of a paragraph, and as she read the words, she knew what Josh's counter argument was going to be. She could see him half-signing, half-speaking it to her now. Gown and Feyereisen will never agree to mandatory trigger locks, no matter WHAT you offer them in return. You need to back off on the guns and step up with something else. Anything else. They're both card-carrying NRA members. Joey frowned to herself and looked over at the coffee mug again. Josh was as predictable as a tornado, and quite possibly just as destructive. There was also his relationship with his aide, Donna, which Joey wasn't quite sure she understood. Sometimes it seemed liked they fought like siblings, and sometimes they seemed to flirt like lovers. Which was it, then? Joey sighed and started typing again, determined to not allow thoughts of Josh to distract her from her work. The sooner the brief was done, the sooner she got to go home and eat that fresh pasta she'd bought earlier that afternoon. She was almost done when Kenny came into the room. He put his hand on Joey's shoulder, and when she turned to look at him, the expression on his face worried her immediately. "What?" she signed. Kenny swallowed. "Follow me," he signed. "There's been a shooting." "A shooting?" Joey signed. Kenny gestured for her to follow him. She did so, hastily grabbing her coat and locking the office door out of habit. Kenny led her to Josh's main office, where a TV was on, several of his staff watching it. Everyone wore similar expressions of terror and apprehension. Kenny grabbed the remote and clicked on the close-captioning for Joey. "...the scene where just moments ago, gunfire errupted from overhead onto the President and his senior staff. Reports are still sketchy at this time, but as you can see--" the reporter turned and the camera panned down and zoomed in on the scene as best it could, where a sea of flashing red, blue, and amber lights danced about, "--there are several fire engines, police vehicles, and even two ambulances. Now Bob this Town Hall meeting was about..." Ambulances. Joey's heart lept into her throat. She looked over at Kenny and grabbed his arm. "We have to find them," she signed frantically. Kenny nodded. He turned and almost ran into Della, one of Josh's many assistants. "Are you going to go find out what happened?" she asked, clearly shaken. Kenny nodded. "We're going to try," he said. "Give us a call, if you find out anything," she said quietly. Kenny nodded to her and turned, pointing Joey down the hall. "Let's go."

Kenny wasn't the best driver in the world, but he could get places quickly. He knew the nooks and crannies of DC's streets as only a native could, and he knew how to avoid cops and where speeding was the best bet. He got them there in less than thirty minutes. They half ran, half walked to the front desk and Joey frantically signed to Kenny, who only slightly-less frantically translated. The clerk nodded sagely and pointed at the lounge. Joey hurried to the door and saw the two secret service agents flanking it suddenly step in close, their eyes hard and sharp. She balked for a moment, but Kenny produced their IDs readily enough. They glanced at them, then murmured into their mics. A few moments later they both nodded to Joey and Kenny. "Alright, you're clear." Kenny translated for her, and Joey shivered a little, mostly at the need for such measures. She walked in the room and scanned the group. Josh and Toby were both missing, and her heart plummeted to somewhere around the basement. She spotted Donna, though, who'd spotted her as well. She quickly walked over to the younger woman and put her arm around her. Kenny followed slowly and sat down next to Leo, looking around. "Where are they?" he asked. The question seemed to inflame Bartlet, who resumed stalking. Leo grimaced at the President, then half-turned to Kenny. "Toby's alright, he's under observation. He was shot in the arm." Leo paused, and Kenny felt his stomach turn a little. That left Josh. "Josh was more seriously injured, they, haven't told us how bad." Leo paused, the words coming to him with obvious difficulty. "They have him up in surgery right now." Joey looked at Kenny earnestly, as she'd not caught most of what Leo said. Kenny reluctantly translated, and when he'd finished, Joey had grown far more still. She took one of Donna's hands firmly, though, and signed to her. Donna looked over at Kenny, who smiled weakly. "They'll both be okay," he translated. "They're too obstinate to be killed." Donna tried to smile, but found it difficult. Joey hugged her fiercely, her emotions all awhirl. Please, let him be alright.

The silence didn't last much longer than another thirty minutes. The President was wound as tightly as any spring, and he was snapping a bit at a time. The staff avoided speaking with him as much as they could, or tried to stear him away from destructive thoughts, but it could only last so long. Finally, he'd had enough. Leo had as well, and the conversation was rapidly deteriorating into a shouting match. "Sir, if you'd sit down for a moment--" "Damnit, Leo, I'm fine, I don't need to sit down, or calm down, what I do need is to know what the hell's going on." "We need to give them time to--" "We've given them plenty of time! All I want is an update!" "Mr. President I think patience would definitely be in our favor right now," Leo growled. Sam flinched and tried not to hear what was being said. Bartlet bristled at Leo's tone. "Patience? Patience? All I've BEEN is patient for, for--" he quickly consulted his watch, "--sixty minutes! Now I am the President of the United States, and by God, I want to know the condition of my goddamned deputy chief of staff!" Eerie silence followed Barlet's shouting, which was broken by a hesitant voice. "Mr. President?" Bartlett turned to find himself looking at a woman in a long doctor's labcoat and surgical scrubs. Next to her was a similarly clad young man. "Please be someone who can tell me what's going on," the President said to her. The woman half-smiled. "Well I can at least fullfill that duty, sir. My name is Dr. Lissar Novak, and this is Dr. Cerwin Wallace." Barlett sighed and extended his hand to each of the doctors, his calm returning slowly. "Pleased to meet you, doctors." Cerwin started, glancing at his chart, as if for help. "Mr. Ziegler was shot in the right arm, Mr. President. We were able to remove the bullet and stitch the injury. There was no bone damamge. He's had a tetnus shot, and he'll need a sling and some painkillers, but we can probably send him home tonight. We'll want to observe him for a few hours, make sure nothing's been seriously injured." Bartlet nodded. "What about Josh?" he asked shortly. Dr. Novak sighed. "Mr. President, your deputy chief of staff--" "Josh." Dr. Novak blinked. "Excuse me sir?" she asked. "Josh, his name...it's Josh." The woman nodded slowly. "Yes sir. He was shot twice in the chest. He was very lucky, neither bullet hit his heart or aorta directly, but there was some damamge by a close call. His left lung has also been injured. He's in surgery now, and is probably going to be there for a while. They need to repair the damamge, and stop the bleeding." Almost everyone wore identicle expressions of dread, mixed with the slightest bit of hope. "Is he going to make it?" Bartlett finally asked. Dr. Novak glanced at the floor before meeting his gaze. "It's hard to say, Mr. President," she replied. "We stabilized him without too much trouble, but there was extensive bloodloss. Dr. Burry is an excellent surgeon and he has an excellent team. They'll have a better idea in an hour or so." Bartlett nodded. "Well you've been generous in letting us use your lounge, but I suspect we can't all stay here." Dr. Wallace sighed. "Unfortunately, sir, it's too big a security risk. At the most, one or two of you could stay with some of the secret service." Bartlett nodded. "Fine. Leo and I will stay." Dr. Novak's eyes widened, but before she could speak, Leo jumped in. "Sir, that's not possible. We're needed back at the White House. At best we should have Sam and Joey stay." It was on the tip of Donna's tongue to protest, and protest loudly. But she stopped herself just in time. Between herself and Joey, she was the one that could run Josh's office in the mean time. It was why she was his aide. Joey wouldn't be as missed at the White House, and she wasn't quite as high profile as Donna. Donna caught Joey's glance and nodded at her. Bartlett looked at Joey and then Sam for a few minutes, then rubbed his temples. "God how did this happen," he said softly. "That's one reason we're needed back at the White House, sir," CJ told him. Bartlett nodded without looking at her, then turned to Dr. Novak. "Take care of them, Dr. Novak." "We will, sir." With great reluctance, the President turned and left the lounge, everyone but Sam, Joey, and Kenny following in tow. After some conferring, two agents left the main group and came to stand near them. "Can we wait up in surgery?" Sam asked the doctors after a moment. Dr. Wallace nodded. "Sure, I'll show you."

Ten minutes later Tim arrived and told Sam and Joey they could see Toby if they wanted. He was awake and cranky as hell, despite enough drugs to fell a small elephant. Joey elected to stay and wait, in case anything happened. Kenny remained with her. Toby was just as Sam had expected to find him. Agitated, irritated, and demanding to be released immediately. A young RN was fluttering around him, attempting to give him yet another sedative so he'd calm down. "Damnit, I feel fine." "Mr. Ziegler, we need you to wait just a little longer. Once these test results come back we can safely clear you to go home." "Go home, I just want to walk down the damned hall and see--" Toby's shouting stopped when Sam walked into the room. Toby glared at Sam dangerously. "It's about time. Get me out of here." The nurse looked at Sam hopefully. Sam spoke to her softly then escorted her out of the room. "How's Josh?" Toby asked as soon as the door had shut. "Toby--" "Don't Toby me, how's Josh?" Sam took a deep breath. "Still in surgery," he said. Toby pursed his lips and looked aside for a moment, obviously angry. He didn't want to wait. "What the hell happened out there?" he asked finally. Sam rubbed his forehead. "That seems to be a very popular question," he answered, a little flippantly. Toby glared at him, but Sam stood his ground. "Look, Toby, being an unmitigated asshole to the people who pried a bullet out of your arm isn't going to help Josh any." Toby looked for a bare moment like he was going to refute everything Sam had said, but then something in him changed. He sighed deeply and seemed to deflate, and all at once looked tired, hurt, and worried. "Sam, what happens if we lose him," he asked in a sad, dejected voice, staring at his bed. Sam blinked. He'd only heard Toby use a voice like that once, when he'd told Sam about forgetting his brother's shuttle mission bare hours ago. "God, don't say that," Sam replied sharply. For a moment, Toby didn't speak, he just stared at his bed. "He was--God, Sam, that could've been me, and when I looked over at him...there was so much blood..." Sam immediately walked over to Toby's bed and put a hand on his shoulder. They remained like that for some time, the silence deafening. Toby finally took a deep breath. "Everyone else okay?" he asked. He met Sam's eyes; Toby's were red and bloodshot. Sam nodded. "Yeah, shaken up, but...okay." "That's something," Toby murmured. "Yeah, it is," Sam said. "So what happens now?" "You let the nurse sedate you and wait for test results to come back. Joey and I wait to hear about Josh." "Sounds like fun." Sam smiled to himself. That sounded more like the Toby Ziegler he knew. "Cooperate with these people, Toby," Sam told him as he made to leave the room. Toby snorted. Sam didn't hear Toby's reply as the door shut behind the nurse who'd gone back into the room.