Title: In the Woods Author: Joanna (joanna_lyman@yahoo.co.uk) Genre: Angst/Romance Summary: President Santos is at Camp David, awaiting his family and his COS. However, Fate has other things in store for them. Josh and Donna must survive the night while sorting out a disagreement that threatens to alter their relationship. Rating: PG-13 Chapters: 4 IN THE WOODS I'm standing here on the South Lawn of the White House; the rotor blades are beating the air, stirring the grass on the ground. It's a Saturday afternoon, late October, but unusually warm. The setting sun sprawls over the White House, clothing it into interesting shades of colors; it also softens the cold metallic surface of the chopper. Okay, enough with the poetry, Lyman! The VH-71 Kestrel, usually bearing the call sign Marine One, is ready to take off. The pilot, two marines and an agent of my detail are already seated inside. They are waiting for me to board, but I take a moment to marvel over nature's beauty. It's somehow relaxing. "Mr. Lyman, wait up!" Special Agent Enrico Tomasso shouts, making me turn around. "Enrico?" I say his name and arch an eyebrow at him. What he could possibly want right now? "The President called, we are accompanying you," the agent explains over the sound of the rotors. I nod and signal the pilot to stop the engines. My agent leaves the chopper to give his place to the agents of Helen Santos and her children. He will join us later at Camp David. Meanwhile, I'm waiting patiently at the steps, thinking about the tasks I have to face upon arriving at the NSF Thurmont. I'm also mentally running a check what I had been already able to do since my boss flew out. I stayed behind to take care of some business. It wasn't too much but nonetheless essential, otherwise I would have gone with him. "Hi!" Miranda Santos, clad in an elegant white blouse, red sweater and deep brown pants, greets me with a smile, and I feel my mouth involuntarily twist into a smile in return. Also I notice that I've got a new found interest in colors. I nod my head and watch as the girl climbs the steps with his agent. I really like her although sometimes she annoys me. I have a hunch that she does that on purpose. Another hunch tells me that someone constantly puts her up to it. I just don't know whether it's the President or Mrs. Santos. Peter Santos, a deep blue backpack on his right shoulder, doesn't bother with greeting, and it almost seems like he simply hops into the helicopter. I don't know how he does this. He is full of energy, sure, but he does have a certain grace in him. Well, he is his father's son, I guess. I wonder... No, we won't go there now, Lyman. I'm sure that Peter is in for a dressing-down by his mother. I know how frustrating it had been when I was at the receiving end of those from my own mother, but I also know that the lectures contributed to my 'half-civilized' manners of the present. Helen and Donna exit last, deep in conversation, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings: the bodyguards, the chopper, the saluting Marine and me. I wonder what they are talking about. Maybe about how pissed Donna is right now. And you can guess at whom. "Hi, Josh," Helen greets me then as she boards Marine One. She gives me a little smile, and I don't know what to make of it. She is more often than not pissed at me, so a smile can be a bad sign or a good sign at the same time. She could smile at my demise at the hand of my lover or she could smile at me because I managed to do something good. Not that that good was perceived as good by my girlfriend. But we won't go there right now. I don't have the luxury of time to do that right now. "Ma'am," I return and then gesture towards Donna that she should enter the chopper first. "Ladies first," I murmur, not really knowing why. "Thank you, Josh," Donna responds and climbs the five little steps. Is that a good sign that she acknowledged my presence? Or is that just her manners? Okay, Josh, we are not going there either. I finally give the sign to the pilot, and the rotors swirl to life once again. We are sitting in silence, not that we have much chance. It can be pretty noisy in a chopper. The kids keep pinching each other, and Helen reaches out to discipline them with a small gesture of her hand. Every time she does that, I remember the almost same hand movement from my own mother when she did the same to smooth over little fights between Joanie and myself. And every time I have to throw a look at Donna. I can't help it; I just keep picturing her doing the same. Donna is looking out of the window, and I'm basically doing the same, except when the kids pinch each other or when I throw infrequent, stealthy, furtive glances at Donna. Yes, Sam is rubbing off on me. We had a fight this morning. I mean Donna and me. Let me tell you something, I hate fights and I know that Donna hates them even more. We didn't really have a chance to talk since that although I know that I should have called Donna before heading off to Camp David. After all, we weren't supposed to meet for four days. I know that I would have called her from the lodge but I can only hope that Donna knows that too. God, why is this so complicated? And why was I such a goddamn idiot this morning? That sentence I uttered at one in the morning and Donna's hurt will always follow me. Although what I meant was much better than what came out. And Donna didn't let me explain myself. She just stormed out of the house. So I guess our little misery is both of our faults. Peter pinched Miranda again. I pull out my Blackberry; there is a simple puzzle game on it. I give it to Helen and indicate with a nod that she should give it to Peter. She takes a look at the display, nods and hands the Blackberry to Peter. He looks back at me with a grin. I guess that's his way to say thank you. And I guess next time he won't forget to greet me. I don't even know why that is important to me, but it is. There was a flash. Was there a flash outside or just in my head? To tell the truth after the nightmare this morning, I'm not really surprised. Donna left around one and I was really-really tired, also really-really pissed at myself and at Donna, too. So the nightmare wasn't a surprise either. But I really don't want to have an episode right now. Even though they are not that visible or violent nowadays, and I can even recall what others are saying during the episode I'm still not able to participate in conversations during it. Not that I'd like. Heaven forbid! Opening my mouth while having an episode would be nothing short of a disaster. I really can't have an episode right now. But I guess it's too late because I can already feel that metallic taste in my mouth. 'Okay, Josh, you have to press your back to the cabin wall.' Did I just hear Stanley's voice? It'd be ridiculous for many-many reasons, but for starters, the wall-therapy wasn't Stanley's idea. I turn around a bit so my back is against the cabin wall. I feel the safety belt tighten around me. I try not to breathe but it's painful nonetheless. I think I will close my eyes just for a minute. I can ride this out. Only if I would dare to take a deep breath, I'm sure that would relax me. ***** Why is there smoke in the cabin? What happened? How comes I can't hear the rotors? How comes there is a silence? Make that an eerie one. Why aren't we moving? Wait! We are not moving. Okay, Lyman, concentrate! There is smoke in the cabin. The door is open for some unexplainable reason, and the smoke is slowly dissipating through it. Everybody is out cold. Are they dead? Oh, my God! DONNA! "Donna!" I cry. There is no answer. I unbuckle the safety belt and reach forward. Helen was sitting in front of me. I feel her face and I touch her neck. Okay, there is a faint pulse there. Good. Miranda was sitting next to her. I catch a glimpse of a dead body next to mine. Come on, Lyman! This is not the time to get squeamish. Good, Miranda has a pulse too. Peter. Peter's breathing hard, he must have inhaled all that smoke but he is awake. "Peter, can you hear me?" I ask him. "Josh?" he asks me, his voice unsure. "I'm here. Unfasten your belt but don't climb out of the machine," I instruct him. Who knows what awaits us there. I make my way to Donna. I have to step over a foot whose owner is clearly dead, at least judging by the angle of his head. Okay, Lyman, we don't need you to heave on dead bodies. Donna's pulse is steady, and I'm relieved. "Peter, try to raise your sister. Easy," I warn him when he pokes Miranda. In the meantime, I'm doing the same with Donna. "Come on, Donna! Time to rise and shine!" I joke with her, but my voice is trembling. "Donatella Moss, open your eyes!" "Hold your horses, Joshua!" she croaks. "I'm trying to collect myself." "Good. Peter, is Miranda okay?" I ask the boy. "I'm okay, Mr. Lyman," she tells me. "Good. Donna, I'll peer outside. If everything is okay, I want you to leave the chopper with the kids," I tell her, and she nods. There is no one outside, so Donna hops off, helping Miranda and Peter leave the helicopter. I'm finally face to face with Helen. Her breathing is labored, her pulse still very faint, but she seems to be conscious. "Josh, I'm flattered that you like my neck, but..." she whispers. "Are you okay?" I ask her. "I'm afraid not," she says, coughing. The cough shakes her whole body, and I see that she is in pain. "I think my legs are broken." "Both?" I ask rather lamely. "Yeah, I'm afraid," she says, a little smile tugging at her mouth. I always admired her courage and stamina. "Okay, I need to check on everyone else, maybe there is someone left who could help us or could call help." "Don't worry about me, Josh. The kids are your priority," she tells me. "They are okay," I reassure her, and she nods. "I know. Peter poked Miranda rather forcefully. I have to talk to him later," she whispers. I climb over to the pilot's cabin. They seem to be dead too, but then I notice a slight movement from the co-pilot. "Oh, good! Can you call for help?" I ask him. "I'm afraid not, sir," he tells me, his breathing ragged. "They disabled the radio before they left." Okay, that explains why two of the agents are not in the chopper and why two of them are dead. "Do you know what happened?" I ask him. "They will come back, sir. With reinforcement," he whispers and then coughs. Just as with Helen, the cough shakes his whole body. Also there is blood, slowly trickling from his mouth. "I won't be able to help, sir" he says then apologetically. "Just hold on, I'm sure help is on its way," I say. "Sir, you need to take them away from here," he says, rather forcefully. "I think that the rescue teams have a bigger chance to find us here than..." I want to tell him, but he grabs the lapel of my suit. "You have to bring them away!" he insists. "Go eastwards, that's the shortest way. You don't know if someone shows up whether they are friend or enemy, don't trust anyone." True. If two agents are behind this, whom can I trust? "Okay. Just stay calm," I tell him and climb back to Helen. "Ma'am, two agents did this. I will scoot down to see what happened to your legs." "Josh, the kids," she whispers. "In a minute, ma'am," I tell her and squat down as far as the seats allow me. Whoa, it looks pretty bad. There is blood and... And there is bone. It's an open fracture. Well diagnosed, Dr. Lyman, now what should we do? "Josh, there is no way I can leave the chopper. You have to bring them to safety. Trust no one," she says, her voice is fading. Concentrate Lyman! Okay, I can't do anything for Helen, and the children's safety is my priority. I pull off one of the agent's coat and cover Helen. "You'll be okay," I reassure her but I know that my voice betrays me. Truth is I don't know whether she will be okay. Open fracture is not that bad, but when untreated... Infection, blood loss... Okay. I can't do this anymore. I need help. "Donna," I call her. "What's wrong, Josh?" she asks and climbs back. "Helen has an open fracture. On both legs. I'll look for something you can use as a bandage, but you have to do it, I don't want to puke over it," I tell her with a self-deprecating smile. "Okay. No, Miranda!" She turns and faces the girl who wants to climb back. "Mommy will be okay, but we need space. We have to tend to her wounds," she explains, and the girl nods. "Mom!" I hear Peter, while I'm looking for something to use. Oh, parachutes! "Sssh, Peter, everything will be okay," I hear Helen. "Listen to me; you have to go with Josh and Donna. They will make sure that you are safe. I want you two to do what Josh and Donna tell you. Could you promise me that?" "Yes, Mom," Peter says uncharacteristically compliantly. I guess Miranda only nodded because I couldn't hear her. Or maybe not. "Miranda, you have to promise me, sweetheart," Helen insists. "Okay, Mommy. I promise." "I found this," I tell Donna when I open the parachute's bag. "That's good, but we need a scissor," Donna says, and seconds later a little scissor appears next to her. "I've got that in my backpack," Peter says, and we both flash him a smile. "You are a very remarkable kid, Peter," Donna praises him, cuts the parachute and bandages Helen's legs. "Will this be okay, Helen?" "Yes, yes, it's okay. You have to go now," she insists, and I know she is right. "Okay, we have to go," I tell Donna and the kids and I can see that they don't want to come. "Okay, we need a commando structure here. When I say something I expect that it happens. At once," I tell them, and three pairs of eyes are fixed on me. "Do what Josh says," Helen tells them, and Donna nods. "Okay. Peter, give Donna your backpack," I instruct Peter, and he complies. I let the kids in for a minute, they both kiss Helen, and then we are off. ***** It's almost dark, and I'm afraid we won't be able to make it far enough. The fallen leaves rustle under our shoes, otherwise we march in silence. Peter already told us that there was a flashlight in his backpack, but we decided that we'll use that later. Miranda stumbled a minute ago, but Donna helped her and I know that now we are pretty used to the uneven ground. "Peter," I call him in a low voice when we are in a safe distance away from the chopper. "What else do you have in your backpack?" "My Jedi-sword, a water bottle, a blackberry, some chocolate and bonbons. You won't tell Mom, will you?" he asks then. "No, Peter, we don't have to tell your Mom," I promise him. "Is that bottle empty?" "No, there is juice in it. Blackberry juice," he points out. Okay, blackberry is not my kind of drink, but it's better than nothing. "Is Daddy coming for us?" Miranda asks in a whisper. "I'm sure that he does everything in his might to find us," Donna reassures her. "Does he know where we are?" Miranda asks then, making Peter stop. "We can't stop, Peter. Go on," I admonish him. "I won't lie to you, Miranda, your Dad doesn't know where we are, but I'm sure he is looking for us." "We could tell him where we are," Peter says. "The radio in the helicopter was disabled, we can't," I tell him. If there is one thing I learned in the past three years with these kids is that you don't lie to them. They are far too clever and smart not to see through it. "But I have your Blackberry in my backpack," he says. "Really?" I ask back and wonder why I didn't realize this earlier. Okay, he said he had a Blackberry in his backpack, but I discarded this as useless inform, somehow thinking that there was an actual blackberry in his bag. I know, I know. It was stupid. And then when he told me he had blackberry juice, I thought he meant that. Okay, now assuming from now on; we almost missed this chance. "Yes, although the battery was pretty low," Peter informs me. Yeah, that's right. I used it today pretty often, and then Peter played with it. But it's not our only problem. We don't know where we are. "Donna, do you have your cell?" I ask her. "No, my bag was not there when I woke up," she tells me. Okay, so she realized it earlier. But then again, she was always the practical one in our relationship. "Your backpack was missing too, by the way." She adds, and we know why. I'm still not clear about those two agents, but right now I don't have the mental capacity to think about that. "Will your Blackberry work, Mr. Lyman?" Miranda asks me. "Josh," I correct her. "And I hope so. There is a chance that there is no signal here, but let's try it," I tell Donna who puts down the bag. Peter rummages in the backpack and finally pulls out my Blackberry. When I push a button, I see that the battery is pretty low. That means one call. "Okay, I know you want to talk to your Daddy, but you know how it is. If I call the White House they will let us wait while they connect us to Camp David. We can't risk that the battery dies on us. Is that okay?" I ask them, wanting them to understand. "Yes," the three of them nod. "Who are you going to call?" Donna asks. "We could call Sam," Miranda says. "Sam is in Milwaukee, Miranda," I inform her. "He is pretty busy, maybe his voice mail picks up, and then we don't stand a chance." Yeah, Sam was my first thought too. "Lou," Peter tells me. "Lou is with Sam," I say. Yeah, Lou was my second thought. But you see, we are campaigning; trying to convince the population that it's a good idea to re-elect Matthew Santos. "You have to call him or her," Donna tells me. Yeah, I came to the same conclusion. "Okay, I'll call a friend of mine. I just hope he will come through to." Yes, Donna was talking about CJ and Toby. And while CJ is more likely to come through, it's also more likely that she won't pick up. Toby is always there when I call him and he usually picks up after the second ring. I have to take the risk. "Toby Ziegler," I hear him after the first ring. "Listen, my battery is low. Tell Matt that the kids are okay. We are in the woods, and two agents did this to us," I tell him. "Okay," I hear Toby's voice, he is remarkably cool, but I didn't expect anything else from him. "Do you know where you are?" Always the practical one, just like Donna. "Yeah, in the forest, more precisely in the middle of the forest. I have no idea," I tell him then. "Will you come through?" "I will, don't worry about that," Toby says. "You have to take them away from the chopper." "We are on our way," I tell him. "We are heading south, hoping that they think we went east to reach the shore." "Okay. Who is with you?" Toby asks. "Donna and the kids. Toby, Helen..." I want to say but the battery dies at this moment. Yeah, I heard the little sound that signaled that it was going to die, but I hoped against hope that it will last another minute. "Who is Toby?" Miranda asks. "Well, he is a friend of mine. And believe you me, he will set everything in motion to find us," I assure her. Miranda nods, and the reason I can see it is because the moon is shining, finally unobstructed. "Okay, we have to go on. One more hour, and then we can rest a bit," I tell them. "It's getting kinda cold," Peter tells me. "Are you already cold?" Donna asks him. "No, but if I have to sit down on the cold ground, I'll be. I know, I was sick after I did it last year with Grandpa John," he informs us. "It's good then that I brought a parachute with me," I try to lighten the mood a little. "We are sleeping in a parachute?" Miranda asks in awe. "Yeah, but we need to keep on going for another hour. Think you can manage that?" I ask them. I see, but even without seeing I would know that they must be dead on their feet. But it's not like we have a choice. "Peter, are you okay?" I ask the boy who is standing next to me. "Yes, I'm okay, Josh," he tells me. "I want you to tell me when you can't go on anymore. I promise I won't get angry," I say, and the three of them nod simultaneously. IN THE WOODS I'm standing here on the South Lawn of the White House; the rotor blades are beating the air, stirring the grass on the ground. It's a Saturday afternoon, late October, but unusually warm. The setting sun sprawls over the White House, clothing it into interesting shades of colors; it also softens the cold metallic surface of the chopper. Okay, enough with the poetry, Lyman! The VH-71 Kestrel, usually bearing the call sign Marine One, is ready to take off. The pilot, two marines and an agent of my detail are already seated inside. They are waiting for me to board, but I take a moment to marvel over nature's beauty. It's somehow relaxing. "Mr. Lyman, wait up!" Special Agent Enrico Tomasso shouts, making me turn around. "Enrico?" I say his name and arch an eyebrow at him. What he could possibly want right now? "The President called, we are accompanying you," the agent explains over the sound of the rotors. I nod and signal the pilot to stop the engines. My agent leaves the chopper to give his place to the agents of Helen Santos and her children. He will join us later at Camp David. Meanwhile, I'm waiting patiently at the steps, thinking about the tasks I have to face upon arriving at the NSF Thurmont. I'm also mentally running a check what I had been already able to do since my boss flew out. I stayed behind to take care of some business. It wasn't too much but nonetheless essential, otherwise I would have gone with him. "Hi!" Miranda Santos, clad in an elegant white blouse, red sweater and deep brown pants, greets me with a smile, and I feel my mouth involuntarily twist into a smile in return. Also I notice that I've got a new found interest in colors. I nod my head and watch as the girl climbs the steps with his agent. I really like her although sometimes she annoys me. I have a hunch that she does that on purpose. Another hunch tells me that someone constantly puts her up to it. I just don't know whether it's the President or Mrs. Santos. Peter Santos, a deep blue backpack on his right shoulder, doesn't bother with greeting, and it almost seems like he simply hops into the helicopter. I don't know how he does this. He is full of energy, sure, but he does have a certain grace in him. Well, he is his father's son, I guess. I wonder... No, we won't go there now, Lyman. I'm sure that Peter is in for a dressing-down by his mother. I know how frustrating it had been when I was at the receiving end of those from my own mother, but I also know that the lectures contributed to my 'half-civilized' manners of the present. Helen and Donna exit last, deep in conversation, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings: the bodyguards, the chopper, the saluting Marine and me. I wonder what they are talking about. Maybe about how pissed Donna is right now. And you can guess at whom. "Hi, Josh," Helen greets me then as she boards Marine One. She gives me a little smile, and I don't know what to make of it. She is more often than not pissed at me, so a smile can be a bad sign or a good sign at the same time. She could smile at my demise at the hand of my lover or she could smile at me because I managed to do something good. Not that that good was perceived as good by my girlfriend. But we won't go there right now. I don't have the luxury of time to do that right now. "Ma'am," I return and then gesture towards Donna that she should enter the chopper first. "Ladies first," I murmur, not really knowing why. "Thank you, Josh," Donna responds and climbs the five little steps. Is that a good sign that she acknowledged my presence? Or is that just her manners? Okay, Josh, we are not going there either. I finally give the sign to the pilot, and the rotors swirl to life once again. We are sitting in silence, not that we have much chance. It can be pretty noisy in a chopper. The kids keep pinching each other, and Helen reaches out to discipline them with a small gesture of her hand. Every time she does that, I remember the almost same hand movement from my own mother when she did the same to smooth over little fights between Joanie and myself. And every time I have to throw a look at Donna. I can't help it; I just keep picturing her doing the same. Donna is looking out of the window, and I'm basically doing the same, except when the kids pinch each other or when I throw infrequent, stealthy, furtive glances at Donna. Yes, Sam is rubbing off on me. We had a fight this morning. I mean Donna and me. Let me tell you something, I hate fights and I know that Donna hates them even more. We didn't really have a chance to talk since that although I know that I should have called Donna before heading off to Camp David. After all, we weren't supposed to meet for four days. I know that I would have called her from the lodge but I can only hope that Donna knows that too. God, why is this so complicated? And why was I such a goddamn idiot this morning? That sentence I uttered at one in the morning and Donna's hurt will always follow me. Although what I meant was much better than what came out. And Donna didn't let me explain myself. She just stormed out of the house. So I guess our little misery is both of our faults. Peter pinched Miranda again. I pull out my Blackberry; there is a simple puzzle game on it. I give it to Helen and indicate with a nod that she should give it to Peter. She takes a look at the display, nods and hands the Blackberry to Peter. He looks back at me with a grin. I guess that's his way to say thank you. And I guess next time he won't forget to greet me. I don't even know why that is important to me, but it is. There was a flash. Was there a flash outside or just in my head? To tell the truth after the nightmare this morning, I'm not really surprised. Donna left around one and I was really-really tired, also really-really pissed at myself and at Donna, too. So the nightmare wasn't a surprise either. But I really don't want to have an episode right now. Even though they are not that visible or violent nowadays, and I can even recall what others are saying during the episode I'm still not able to participate in conversations during it. Not that I'd like. Heaven forbid! Opening my mouth while having an episode would be nothing short of a disaster. I really can't have an episode right now. But I guess it's too late because I can already feel that metallic taste in my mouth. 'Okay, Josh, you have to press your back to the cabin wall.' Did I just hear Stanley's voice? It'd be ridiculous for many-many reasons, but for starters, the wall-therapy wasn't Stanley's idea. I turn around a bit so my back is against the cabin wall. I feel the safety belt tighten around me. I try not to breathe but it's painful nonetheless. I think I will close my eyes just for a minute. I can ride this out. Only if I would dare to take a deep breath, I'm sure that would relax me. ***** Why is there smoke in the cabin? What happened? How comes I can't hear the rotors? How comes there is a silence? Make that an eerie one. Why aren't we moving? Wait! We are not moving. Okay, Lyman, concentrate! There is smoke in the cabin. The door is open for some unexplainable reason, and the smoke is slowly dissipating through it. Everybody is out cold. Are they dead? Oh, my God! DONNA! "Donna!" I cry. There is no answer. I unbuckle the safety belt and reach forward. Helen was sitting in front of me. I feel her face and I touch her neck. Okay, there is a faint pulse there. Good. Miranda was sitting next to her. I catch a glimpse of a dead body next to mine. Come on, Lyman! This is not the time to get squeamish. Good, Miranda has a pulse too. Peter. Peter's breathing hard, he must have inhaled all that smoke but he is awake. "Peter, can you hear me?" I ask him. "Josh?" he asks me, his voice unsure. "I'm here. Unfasten your belt but don't climb out of the machine," I instruct him. Who knows what awaits us there. I make my way to Donna. I have to step over a foot whose owner is clearly dead, at least judging by the angle of his head. Okay, Lyman, we don't need you to heave on dead bodies. Donna's pulse is steady, and I'm relieved. "Peter, try to raise your sister. Easy," I warn him when he pokes Miranda. In the meantime, I'm doing the same with Donna. "Come on, Donna! Time to rise and shine!" I joke with her, but my voice is trembling. "Donatella Moss, open your eyes!" "Hold your horses, Joshua!" she croaks. "I'm trying to collect myself." "Good. Peter, is Miranda okay?" I ask the boy. "I'm okay, Mr. Lyman," she tells me. "Good. Donna, I'll peer outside. If everything is okay, I want you to leave the chopper with the kids," I tell her, and she nods. There is no one outside, so Donna hops off, helping Miranda and Peter leave the helicopter. I'm finally face to face with Helen. Her breathing is labored, her pulse still very faint, but she seems to be conscious. "Josh, I'm flattered that you like my neck, but..." she whispers. "Are you okay?" I ask her. "I'm afraid not," she says, coughing. The cough shakes her whole body, and I see that she is in pain. "I think my legs are broken." "Both?" I ask rather lamely. "Yeah, I'm afraid," she says, a little smile tugging at her mouth. I always admired her courage and stamina. "Okay, I need to check on everyone else, maybe there is someone left who could help us or could call help." "Don't worry about me, Josh. The kids are your priority," she tells me. "They are okay," I reassure her, and she nods. "I know. Peter poked Miranda rather forcefully. I have to talk to him later," she whispers. I climb over to the pilot's cabin. They seem to be dead too, but then I notice a slight movement from the co-pilot. "Oh, good! Can you call for help?" I ask him. "I'm afraid not, sir," he tells me, his breathing ragged. "They disabled the radio before they left." Okay, that explains why two of the agents are not in the chopper and why two of them are dead. "Do you know what happened?" I ask him. "They will come back, sir. With reinforcement," he whispers and then coughs. Just as with Helen, the cough shakes his whole body. Also there is blood, slowly trickling from his mouth. "I won't be able to help, sir" he says then apologetically. "Just hold on, I'm sure help is on its way," I say. "Sir, you need to take them away from here," he says, rather forcefully. "I think that the rescue teams have a bigger chance to find us here than..." I want to tell him, but he grabs the lapel of my suit. "You have to bring them away!" he insists. "Go eastwards, that's the shortest way. You don't know if someone shows up whether they are friend or enemy, don't trust anyone." True. If two agents are behind this, whom can I trust? "Okay. Just stay calm," I tell him and climb back to Helen. "Ma'am, two agents did this. I will scoot down to see what happened to your legs." "Josh, the kids," she whispers. "In a minute, ma'am," I tell her and squat down as far as the seats allow me. Whoa, it looks pretty bad. There is blood and... And there is bone. It's an open fracture. Well diagnosed, Dr. Lyman, now what should we do? "Josh, there is no way I can leave the chopper. You have to bring them to safety. Trust no one," she says, her voice is fading. Concentrate Lyman! Okay, I can't do anything for Helen, and the children's safety is my priority. I pull off one of the agent's coat and cover Helen. "You'll be okay," I reassure her but I know that my voice betrays me. Truth is I don't know whether she will be okay. Open fracture is not that bad, but when untreated... Infection, blood loss... Okay. I can't do this anymore. I need help. "Donna," I call her. "What's wrong, Josh?" she asks and climbs back. "Helen has an open fracture. On both legs. I'll look for something you can use as a bandage, but you have to do it, I don't want to puke over it," I tell her with a self-deprecating smile. "Okay. No, Miranda!" She turns and faces the girl who wants to climb back. "Mommy will be okay, but we need space. We have to tend to her wounds," she explains, and the girl nods. "Mom!" I hear Peter, while I'm looking for something to use. Oh, parachutes! "Sssh, Peter, everything will be okay," I hear Helen. "Listen to me; you have to go with Josh and Donna. They will make sure that you are safe. I want you two to do what Josh and Donna tell you. Could you promise me that?" "Yes, Mom," Peter says uncharacteristically compliantly. I guess Miranda only nodded because I couldn't hear her. Or maybe not. "Miranda, you have to promise me, sweetheart," Helen insists. "Okay, Mommy. I promise." "I found this," I tell Donna when I open the parachute's bag. "That's good, but we need a scissor," Donna says, and seconds later a little scissor appears next to her. "I've got that in my backpack," Peter says, and we both flash him a smile. "You are a very remarkable kid, Peter," Donna praises him, cuts the parachute and bandages Helen's legs. "Will this be okay, Helen?" "Yes, yes, it's okay. You have to go now," she insists, and I know she is right. "Okay, we have to go," I tell Donna and the kids and I can see that they don't want to come. "Okay, we need a commando structure here. When I say something I expect that it happens. At once," I tell them, and three pairs of eyes are fixed on me. "Do what Josh says," Helen tells them, and Donna nods. "Okay. Peter, give Donna your backpack," I instruct Peter, and he complies. I let the kids in for a minute, they both kiss Helen, and then we are off. ***** It's almost dark, and I'm afraid we won't be able to make it far enough. The fallen leaves rustle under our shoes, otherwise we march in silence. Peter already told us that there was a flashlight in his backpack, but we decided that we'll use that later. Miranda stumbled a minute ago, but Donna helped her and I know that now we are pretty used to the uneven ground. "Peter," I call him in a low voice when we are in a safe distance away from the chopper. "What else do you have in your backpack?" "My Jedi-sword, a water bottle, a blackberry, some chocolate and bonbons. You won't tell Mom, will you?" he asks then. "No, Peter, we don't have to tell your Mom," I promise him. "Is that bottle empty?" "No, there is juice in it. Blackberry juice," he points out. Okay, blackberry is not my kind of drink, but it's better than nothing. "Is Daddy coming for us?" Miranda asks in a whisper. "I'm sure that he does everything in his might to find us," Donna reassures her. "Does he know where we are?" Miranda asks then, making Peter stop. "We can't stop, Peter. Go on," I admonish him. "I won't lie to you, Miranda, your Dad doesn't know where we are, but I'm sure he is looking for us." "We could tell him where we are," Peter says. "The radio in the helicopter was disabled, we can't," I tell him. If there is one thing I learned in the past three years with these kids is that you don't lie to them. They are far too clever and smart not to see through it. "But I have your Blackberry in my backpack," he says. "Really?" I ask back and wonder why I didn't realize this earlier. Okay, he said he had a Blackberry in his backpack, but I discarded this as useless inform, somehow thinking that there was an actual blackberry in his bag. I know, I know. It was stupid. And then when he told me he had blackberry juice, I thought he meant that. Okay, now assuming from now on; we almost missed this chance. "Yes, although the battery was pretty low," Peter informs me. Yeah, that's right. I used it today pretty often, and then Peter played with it. But it's not our only problem. We don't know where we are. "Donna, do you have your cell?" I ask her. "No, my bag was not there when I woke up," she tells me. Okay, so she realized it earlier. But then again, she was always the practical one in our relationship. "Your backpack was missing too, by the way." She adds, and we know why. I'm still not clear about those two agents, but right now I don't have the mental capacity to think about that. "Will your Blackberry work, Mr. Lyman?" Miranda asks me. "Josh," I correct her. "And I hope so. There is a chance that there is no signal here, but let's try it," I tell Donna who puts down the bag. Peter rummages in the backpack and finally pulls out my Blackberry. When I push a button, I see that the battery is pretty low. That means one call. "Okay, I know you want to talk to your Daddy, but you know how it is. If I call the White House they will let us wait while they connect us to Camp David. We can't risk that the battery dies on us. Is that okay?" I ask them, wanting them to understand. "Yes," the three of them nod. "Who are you going to call?" Donna asks. "We could call Sam," Miranda says. "Sam is in Milwaukee, Miranda," I inform her. "He is pretty busy, maybe his voice mail picks up, and then we don't stand a chance." Yeah, Sam was my first thought too. "Lou," Peter tells me. "Lou is with Sam," I say. Yeah, Lou was my second thought. But you see, we are campaigning; trying to convince the population that it's a good idea to re-elect Matthew Santos. "You have to call him or her," Donna tells me. Yeah, I came to the same conclusion. "Okay, I'll call a friend of mine. I just hope he will come through to." Yes, Donna was talking about CJ and Toby. And while CJ is more likely to come through, it's also more likely that she won't pick up. Toby is always there when I call him and he usually picks up after the second ring. I have to take the risk. "Toby Ziegler," I hear him after the first ring. "Listen, my battery is low. Tell Matt that the kids are okay. We are in the woods, and two agents did this to us," I tell him. "Okay," I hear Toby's voice, he is remarkably cool, but I didn't expect anything else from him. "Do you know where you are?" Always the practical one, just like Donna. "Yeah, in the forest, more precisely in the middle of the forest. I have no idea," I tell him then. "Will you come through?" "I will, don't worry about that," Toby says. "You have to take them away from the chopper." "We are on our way," I tell him. "We are heading south, hoping that they think we went east to reach the shore." "Okay. Who is with you?" Toby asks. "Donna and the kids. Toby, Helen..." I want to say but the battery dies at this moment. Yeah, I heard the little sound that signaled that it was going to die, but I hoped against hope that it will last another minute. "Who is Toby?" Miranda asks. "Well, he is a friend of mine. And believe you me, he will set everything in motion to find us," I assure her. Miranda nods, and the reason I can see it is because the moon is shining, finally unobstructed. "Okay, we have to go on. One more hour, and then we can rest a bit," I tell them. "It's getting kinda cold," Peter tells me. "Are you already cold?" Donna asks him. "No, but if I have to sit down on the cold ground, I'll be. I know, I was sick after I did it last year with Grandpa John," he informs us. "It's good then that I brought a parachute with me," I try to lighten the mood a little. "We are sleeping in a parachute?" Miranda asks in awe. "Yeah, but we need to keep on going for another hour. Think you can manage that?" I ask them. I see, but even without seeing I would know that they must be dead on their feet. But it's not like we have a choice. "Peter, are you okay?" I ask the boy who is standing next to me. "Yes, I'm okay, Josh," he tells me. "I want you to tell me when you can't go on anymore. I promise I won't get angry," I say, and the three of them nod simultaneously. IN THE WOODS No such luck. The footsteps grow closer and I jump up, grabbing the backpack. I throw the parachute over Donna and the kids and shuffle some leaves to hide the parachute's edge. Fortunately, it's a military issue, so it's khaki in color. "Quiet," I order and turn around, moving away from them in quick strides. I'm about five feet away when I spot a shadow first, and then a man appears. "Good morning, Mr. Lyman," Tim Gordon greets me, his hand on his Sig Sauer. "President Santos sent me to collect you and his children. Where are they?" "I sent them away with Ms. Moss," I tell him, praying for the poker face I know I'm lacking. "Yeah, that's very likely," he tells me. "Okay, no need for a charade then, I guess. I have a gun and you don't, Mr. Lyman. And no need to tell you what happened last time you found yourself on the other side of a gun." "Playing dirty, aren't we?" I remark sarcastically, keeping my cool. I can fall apart later; I need to do this for Donna and Matt's kids. "Who said I don't have a gun, Tim?" I ask him and produce the gun I got from one of the dead agents. "Would you be able to fire it off?" he teases me in a mocking undertone. "I'm sure I will, considering that it would be in defense." "What constitutes as defense, Mr. Lyman? Me firing my gun? I'm a Secret Service agent, I have training, you don't. I could kill you right now without you even being able to raise that gun." "Well, but then you'll never be able to find the kids and Donna. And you'd be short of one hostage," I retort, my voice cold, but trembling slightly. I don't want to die, not now when I'm becoming a father. "I'm sure I'd be able to track them down. And I don't need you as a hostage; in fact, I don't need Ms. Moss as a hostage." That's true, and I guess this is a real threat, so I consider my next move as defense. I fire off my gun and then throw myself on the ground. I see him grabbing his right shoulder with his left hand; his gun falling out of his hand. I quickly scoot over and grab his gun before he realizes it's gone. And then I spot Donna standing behind him. I make some pretty loud noises, but his curses and his pain make sure that he doesn't notice Donna. My fianc‚e kneels into his knees from the back, making him buckle, and I quickly grab his feet, pulling at them, making him topple, face first into the dirt. Unfortunately, he hits his head on a nearby tree and in mere seconds he is unconscious. "Is he dead?" I hear Miranda asking. "No," I say, when I feel the man's steady and strong pulse. "He is just unconscious. We should get going before he wakes up," I tell them. "We can't leave him here like that, it would be murder," Donna tells me. "Donna, I'm aware of that, but if he wakes up and finds us here I can't defend you otherwise but shooting him. And that'd be murder too," I tell her impatiently. "Josh, we should at least tend to his wound," she tries to convince me, and I give in. "Fine, but I'm trussing him up before," I tell her, making my way back to our parachute, taking Peter's scissors with me. When I return, I see that Donna made a pressure bandage out of her shawl, and I hand her a piece of parachute to bandage the man's shoulder. I take his other hand and tie it to the tree. I also tie his legs to each other. I know that this isn't a safe tie; I know that he could free himself later, but I also think that he will be out for an hour or so and with his injury he will have a hard time to free himself. "Okay, let's get going," I order them after Donna finishes the bandage. I folded our parachute with Miranda's help, so we are ready to go. We run for the first ten minutes, and then I double back to make sure that we didn't leave any traces. I plant some clues that might lead him to the wrong direction, using Miranda's barrette and a piece of Peter's coat. Then I rejoin them and we continue our way in a brisk step for another twenty minutes. "I want my Mommy," Miranda whines, finally giving in the stress. I can't blame her, all I really want is to curl up next to Donna and let her make me feel better. "Miranda, I know that you miss your Mommy," I lean down, looking her into the eyes. "But we can't go back to her." "What happened to Mommy?" she asks pretty much the only question I don't know the answer for. "I don't know, I can only hope that she was found and brought to a hospital." Should I have maybe lied to her? But then again, I don't really have a poker face and I'm really convinced that when you want someone to trust you, you should never lie to him. Or her. "When is Daddy coming for us?" she asks, and there we have it. Another question I don't have the answer for. It can be pretty frustrating. "As soon as he can," I tell her. A politician's answer, but at least it's the truth. "When will that be?" she continues the interrogation. "Miranda, stop bothering Josh!" Peter snaps at his sister, and I know he feels the tension, too. I look up, arching an eyebrow at Donna. What should we do right now? We can't really stop going, but we clearly have to address the issue. When I look at Miranda again, she is all tears, and I guess Peter noticed it too, since he runs to hug her. Donna finally gathers them in a hug, and I feel somehow left out. Until she beckons me over and I can hug them all. "Listen up, I hope that today we could reach some village or find a cabin for shelter. We should go on. Again, if you can't go on, please tell me, I promise..." I want to finish but Miranda and Peter interrupt me. "You won't get angry," they say simultaneously, and I send them a grin. They grin back. This natural ability of kids to bounce back no matter how bad it gets, that's something I'm really envious of. "Right. Let's head out," I tell them, but Peter interrupts me by shaking his head. "What's up?" I lean down a bit to be at eye level with him, and he leans closer to whisper something in my ear. "I have to pee," he says, and I can't help it, I have to smile. We already had this conversation yesterday along the way, but he wasn't embarrassed by it then. "Of course. What do you say, we leave the girls to their girly routine and we seek out a place for us, men?" I ask him, wiggling an eyebrow at Donna and Miranda. They both giggle. Okay, make them laugh; maybe we can save the conversation I'm not prepared for. "Okay," Peter says with a grin, and we trot away to find a spot. "Wait!" Donna calls after us, and we turn at the same time. She licks the tip of her forefinger and lifts it up, turns a few times and then nods. "Yep, wind blows from northeast." She says and then adds, "You know what that means, right?" She looks at us pointedly, and I think I actually blush. But now I know that Donna understands my tactic. "Donna is really droll today, don't you think, Peter?" I ask Peter in a mock whisper because I want both Donna and Miranda to hear me. "What does droll mean?" Peter asks, making Donna and Miranda double over in laughter. Here I am, trying to be witty, and my companion in misery, my fellow man doesn't get it. "Ask Donna, she can tell you droll stories pretty good," I tell him then. "So droll is funny?" Peter asks back. I can only nod because I have to think this over for a second. That means that Donna tells them stories. What kind of stories, I can only guess. "So Donna tells you funny stories?" I ask him. "Every time," Peter admits. "What kind of stories?" I ask him, already dreading the answer. "Old stories about you and Sam," Miranda answers, still laughing a bit. Donna is regularly beaming at me, like she is proud or something. "Okay, but if I were you I wouldn't believe half the things she says, she likes to embellish those stories," I say, making Donna's grin even wider. "She said you'd say that," Miranda tells me, her expression matches Donna's. "Yeah, I bet she did," I whisper, not knowing how to get back at Donna at the moment. "Okay, buddy, let's get going," I tell Peter, and we maneuver our way through the forest to find a spot away from the girls, but still close to hear them if something comes up. "Is it true that you and Sam set the White House on fire?" Peter asks me, after he is done. "Yep," I admit, not wanting to broach the subject anymore. "What do you think my father would have done if you'd done that during his presidency?" he asks then. "I think he would have been in stitches although I can imagine why President Bartlet was less than amused while standing on the Truman balcony around 4 a.m. in January," I say for full disclosure. "He had to stand there in the middle of the night? In January?" Peter asks his eyes wide. I guess Donna didn't mention that fact when she told the story. "In his PJ's," I add. "Wow, I bet he was mad," Peter says, and I nod. "Ready?" I finally ask him, and we make our way back to the girls. "I'm hungry," Miranda says then, and I look at Peter. He must be hungry too. And to tell the truth, I'm starving too. We didn't eat anything but some kind of bonbons Peter had in his backpack. "Okay, time to break out the heavy stuff, Peter," I tell him, and he nods. He has a special double block of Hershey's chocolate bar in that backpack. "Oh, Peter!" Donna swoons, and Peter gets a kiss. And while Peter and Miranda break the block into four pieces, I complain to Donna that I didn't get a kiss. She looks at the kids and then gives me a peck on the lips. "Donna!" I whine, and she smiles at me mysteriously. I hope she thinks about the same things I do. "You can get lucky after I showered," she whispers into my ear, and I check whether the kids heard her promise. They are still occupied with the chocolate, so it's safe for me to relish the prospect for a few moments. And I also got the message; I have to bring them to safety. "Let's go, you can eat it on the way," I usher the three of them forward, and we are on our way again. Donna and Peter are walking in front of me, Miranda falls into step with me at the back. "Will Tim be okay?" she asks me right away. "I think so. But you understand why I had to do it, right?" I ask him, praying that she understands. I don't know why it's so important to me, but it is. I'm waiting for her answer, holding my breath back. "He wanted to kill Donna and take us so he can blackmail Daddy to do something bad," she sums up that situation, and I know she understands. We continue our way in silence for the next five minutes and then she addresses me again. "Josh, what do you think he is doing right now?" she asks me, and I don't need to clarify who she means. "I think right now he is on the phone with one of his former comrades." "Maybe Uncle Gregory," she says, and I vaguely remember this former Marine named Gregory Lymburg. "He was there for the Fourth of July thing," Miranda says, and I nod. Yes, I definitely remember him. He was your typical veteran, telling old tales, making everyone laugh. "Yep, I think he is calling him to ask him whether he found us," I tell Miranda. "Do you think he will?" she asks back. "I guess so. What would you like to do when we get back to the White House?" I ask her to take off her mind of our predicament. "Take a bath, wash my hair and change into something that's not itching," she tells me, and I can't help it, I have to laugh. "What's wrong with that?" "Nothing, I just would like to do the same. I would also like to wear some slippers for a month or so, I guess. These shoes are killing me," I tell her, scrunching my face, looking down at my shoes. "Yeah, my shoes are not much better," she admits, looking down at her patent leather strappy shoes. "Did you and Donna have a fight yesterday?" "Yeah, we had, but we are okay now," I tell her. "That's good. Mom says you and Donna are so in love with each other that it's sometimes hard to bear," she imparts. "Your mom said that?" I ask back, my voice going high at the end. "Yeah, she told Dad, and I kinda overheard," Miranda says. "You mean you were eavesdropping," I correct her with a grin. "They were talking very loud," Miranda says defensively. I think she would make a pretty good politician. "Will you two marry?" "Yes, and very soon, I guess," I admit, no need to keep it secret, Donna already agreed. "But she doesn't have a ring," Miranda protests. "You mean an engagement ring?" I ask her to clarify. "Yes, she should have one if you are going to get married," Miranda admonishes me, looking at me quite outraged. "I'll buy her a ring as soon as we get back," I promise her. "I'm worried about Mommy," she whispers then, watching Peter, hoping that he didn't hear her admission. "I know, kiddo," I tell her and take her hand into mine. We continue our way in silence, and I hope that I'll never know the anxiety and helplessness Matt must feel right now. Miranda's hand in mine keeps me thinking of my own baby. And about baby names for all that is important at this moment. I agree, all I want is a healthy baby, but I hope it's a little girl. I don't know if Donna inherited her family's craziness about name giving. Although I know that Donatella is quite common in Italy, and after all her mom is Italian. Anyway, maybe I could head off the disaster, not that I'm not fond of her name. I know, I'm not making any sense. Bear with me, I'm hungry, I'm thirsty and my back and feet are hurting on top of it. Hannah is a good name, my mother's name, to tell the truth, but that's not why I like it. Hannah Moss-Lyman. I think that sounds good. Heather Moss-Lyman. It's okay, but not that good as Hannah. Abigail Moss-Lyman. I don't know where that came from, but I know-thanks to a particularly boring bus ride during our first Bartlet campaign-that Abigail is a Hebrew name meaning 'father's joy'. Well, this little one will be her father's joy, that's for sure. I can picture us in the Rose Garden; she is looking up at me with love and trust. I'd really like that. Three weeks ago, I caught Matt and Miranda fooling around in the Rose Garden, they looked completely lost in their own game; they didn't even notice I was standing there, watching them. I wanted that memory to be mine. And now it can come true, although we have to win the election for that. One more incentive to work harder towards that goal. And of course, we have to get home first. "Would you like to have kids?" Miranda asks then out of the blue, brining me back from my dreams. "Yes, kiddo," I admit, not telling her that Donna is pregnant. It's her privilege to break the news; besides, I don't know how far she is but I know that mothers don't like to tell anyone in the first twelve weeks. "A boy or a girl?" Miranda asks. "A girl." "That'd be good. I could baby-sit her if you want," she offers. "Thanks, Miranda," I answer and send her a grin. She grins back. She knows something. Maybe she was not so asleep yesterday. "We were loud, right?" I refer to her term of eavesdropping and see that she is blushing a bit. But then she smiles at me, and I know she didn't want to pry; she was just kept awake by us. "Yep. And I was thinking about names," she admits then. "Really? Me too. What did you come up with?" "I really like the name Joanna." "No, that's not an option, sorry," I tell her. It's to similar to my sister's name, and I wouldn't want that. "Okay." She nods and offers me the next one. "What about Sophia? I know that Donna's half-Italian. Sophia Lyman," she tries, and I have to admit it does sound good. "Moss-Lyman," I correct her. "Sophia Moss-Lyman. Nah, that's not so good anymore. Yours?" "Hannah Moss-Lyman. Or Abigail Moss-Lyman," I tell her and almost see the little wheels turning in her head. "I have an Abigail in my class," she says. "We call her Abbey." "Yeah, I know an Abigail too," I tell her. "The former First Lady, I know," Miranda tells me, and gives me a smile. "What about Hannah?" I ask her. "That's your mother's name," she tells me. I'm completely flabbergasted. "How do you know that?" I manage to squeak out. "Donna told me once. She was talking to your mom on the phone," she explains, and I nod. "But if you give her the name Hannah, you should give her Mrs. Moss' name too." "I guess then I have to give up on Hannah," I tell her. No way will I name my child Giacinta. Not even as a middle name! "You should talk Donna about it," Miranda tells me, giving me an unfathomable look. "You didn't happen to overhear a conversation about baby names?" I ask her tentatively. "Mom, Donna and Annabeth were talking about baby names just the other day. Annabeth and Craig want to have babies," she tells me. "They are thinking about adoption." "I see." Well, this information is new, and I feel only a bit uncomfortable about the way I got it. But she offered me this piece freely, so my conscience can rest for a while. Until I blurt out something in front of Annabeth, I guess. "Annabeth said they were in various orphanages, and they saw a little girl named Isabella. Mommy said it's a beautiful name, and Donna said that's her sister's name, and if it weren't her sister's name she would give it to her baby, if she had one." "I see. And you think she wants an Italian name?" I ask Miranda. "I don't know. Is it that bad?" Miranda asks back. "Nah, I don't think so. Although it can be a mouthful, to tell the truth," I admit. "With Moss-Lyman at the end I think we need something shorter. That's why I prefer Hannah to Abigail." "I see. Well, Donna will be Donatella Moss-Lyman. That's long but I think it sounds good," Miranda tells me, and I'm suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling. Donatella Moss-Lyman. Donna will be my wife. She will be mine forever. We will have a family together. Oh, get it together, Lyman! "When you are done with the naming procedure, could you catch up with us?" I hear Donna asking. "There is a house over there," she informs us. Miranda lets go of my hand and runs forward. I walk to Donna and encircle her waist with my arms. "She overheard us yesterday," I whisper to her. "I know. I don't mind," Donna says, giving me a brief kiss again. "And we will have a list and once we saw the kid we will decide what fits." "Okay, I can live with that." "And we will compile a list of boy names, too," Donna adds then. "What do you think? Should we try?" She motions towards the house. "I'm thirsty, Donna," I tell her, and she nods. "If for nothing else but for water and maybe a phone call we should try it. I'll go first, see what I find. If everything okay, you can come after me with the kids. Okay?" "Okay," she agrees and she takes both Peter and Miranda by the hand. I reach the house and look back; they are staying in the shadows of the trees. I knock on the door and look down at my watch. It's almost 9 o'clock. I hope they are already up. "Coming!" I hear a female voice, and I'm somehow relieved. N THE WOODS The door opens, and a middle-aged woman is standing there, looking at me appraisingly. She has deep brown eyes and curly, slightly graying hair. "Good morning!" I greet her. "Good morning," she counters and smiles. "I take that you lost your way in the forest, right?" "Yeah, that about right. We spent the night in the forest, and..." I tell her, and I could smack myself on the head for that slip. "We, as in your family and you?" she asks me, pointing toward Donna and the kids. I couldn't see them if I didn't know that they were standing there, how comes that she can? Well, she is home, I guess, she must know the vicinity enough to spot any anomalies. "Yes, ma'am. Could we get some water? And maybe we could use your phone?" I ask her, beckoning my companions to me. "But of course. My name is Rebecca Royce," she says, and I mumble my name too. She doesn't seem to recognize me, but that's okay with me right now. Otherwise I might be offended, but I don't care at the moment. "I guess you must be pretty hungry too," she says, and the kids are nodding their agreement with the sentiment. I make introductions and they shake hands. "I have cornflakes and milk, if that's okay with you," she tells them. Miranda nods fiercely, Peter scrunches his face at the milk but then nods, I guess he is too hungry to be picky. Our hostess guides us into her house, and we take in our surroundings with silent awe. The house is magnificent but homey at the same time. She ushers us into the kitchen, but Donna tells her that we need the bathroom first. We take our turns, washing our hands and taking care of other business. The kids are already in the kitchen, eating their cereals, when Donna and I enter. "Coffee?" she asks us, and I nod. Donna shakes her head and asks for a glass of milk. Peter is looking at her like she lost her mind. I guess he is not used to drinking milk voluntarily. We sit down and watch the kids eat, while our hostess makes us a few toasts and scrambled eggs. I never knew I could be so thankful for food. I can go without food for a day, but right now I couldn't go on for another ten minutes. Peter asks for eggs too, Miranda says she had enough. We are chatting about the house and the forest while we eat our breakfast, carefully avoiding any other topic. "My Blackberry is in my study," she says after we finish our breakfast. I feel like a human again, although my clothes are still dirty and my shoe is killing me too. "You have a Blackberry?" I ask incredulously. I know it might seem rude but somehow I couldn't picture this lady with a Blackberry, maybe a laptop to surf the web for recipes or something, but certainly not a Blackberry. I know, I know, this would be the time for Donna whacking me. Bear with me, I can be a jerk on my best days, and this is certainly not one of them. "Yep, I don't have a phone line; it's too far from town. My publisher gave me a Blackberry, and I have to agree it's quite useful," she explains. "Oh, that Rebecca Royce!" Donna exclaims, and I'm lost. I've never heard of her, but that's not surprising, I read memos and memoirs. I plan to read more when I retire, but right now I really don't have the time. "Yes, dear," she says with a gentle smile. "I liked your last one the best," Donna says honestly, and then we proceed into the study. "Maybe you could give me your charger and then I could use my own," I tell her, and she nods, rummaging in one of the drawers. "I'll leave the two of you alone," she says, giving me the charger and pointing out the outlet. "I don't have cable TV but I have a DVD player and a documentary about the Seven Wonders of the World. Would that be okay for the kids to watch?" she asks Donna. "Definitely," Donna agrees. "Their clothes are pretty dirty, Ms. Royce, they shouldn't sit on the couch." "That's okay dear, I have a quilt, and I'll drape that over the couch." "Thank you," Donna says, and I finally manage to switch on my Blackberry. "You are calling Toby again?" "Yes," I tell her and take her hand into mine. She squeezes my hand while I wait for Toby to pick up. "Toby Ziegler," he says, and Donna leans closer to hear his voice too. "It's me, Josh," I tell him and I hear him sigh with relief. "Are you okay?" he asks finally. "Yeah, we are okay. Where are you?" "At Camp David with Andie," he informs us, and now it's time for me to sigh in relief. "Can I talk to the President?" I ask him. "On my way to Aspen Lodge," he says. "Are you really okay?" "Yep, we took a risk and we are now in a house. Rebecca Royce's house," I tell him. "The writer?" he asks back, and now I really feel dumb. Everybody knows who Rebecca Royce is but me. I guess I should take the time to read. "Yup. Listen, Toby, how is Helen?" "She is okay, given the circumstances. She was brought to GW, they say that bandage saved her legs. But she sustained other injuries so she is not out of the woods yet," Toby tells me honestly. "She had internal bleeding, they had to operate, but they say she has good chances for a full recovery." "I see. Did you find the two agents?" I ask, dreading the answer. "Yeah, they were not far from the chopper. They were both shot. One of them is in the morgue, the other one is over at Langley," he imparts. "Listen, the investigation is still under way, and we don't know what happens next. They say there must have been at least one more agent but they can't find him. So stay put and don't let anybody else into the house but Ron or me." "Yeah, there was at least another one," I tell Toby and then explain the situation. And then I register what he said earlier and ask, "Are you coming for us?" "Yes, we have Gregory Lymburg here, he has a chopper and he will fly Ron and me to the house. I'm here," he says then, and I hear him tell the President that it's me on the phone. "Josh," I hear Matt's voice. "Mr. President," I greet him. "The kids are okay. They are watching a video about the Seven Wonders right now, but Donna can call them," I say, and I feel Donna slide away. "Josh, how can I ever thank you for this?" Matt asks, and I'm really touched by his voice. It's my job to do this for him, so I don't think that I deserve any thanks. Besides, they are kids and it's every grown-up's job to keep them safe. "Sir, any news on the First Lady?" I ask, not knowing what else to say. "No, Josh, she is asleep at GW, they are optimistic but we have to wait. Those bandages saved her leg, by the way," he tells me what Toby already told me. "It was Donna, sir, you know me and blood," I tell him and I hear him laugh. "They are here, sir." I give the phone the kids, telling them that it's their Dad on the other end. "Daddy!" they both shriek, and I'm really touched to see their faces alight with excitement. "Yes, Daddy," I hear Miranda's answer and then I zone out. I'm thinking about our baby, praying to whatever God is out there that we'll never live through the same. When I come back, Donna is on the phone with Toby again, she obviously asked Rebecca for directions because she is dictating the route. And then the phone is handed back to me, Ron wants to speak to me about the third agent. I tell him everything I know about Tim, but I'm no great help when it comes to directions. I can't tell Ron where he finds him. I also ask Ron to make arrangements to take us to GW straight away, and he consents. I want to make sure Donna's okay, and the kids should be checked out too, I guess. "Listen, Ron, can he leave Camp David?" I ask him at the end of the conversation. "After we picked you up Gregory will come back for him. Why?" "We are okay here, take him to GW first," I tell him. "No, Josh," I hear the President. "Yes, Mr. President. You have to be at her side and you can meet us there later," I tell him. "You want to see your wife and your kids, this is the shortest way to ensure that," I try to persuade him. "But Josh, your safety is..." "Yeah, yeah, yeah," I wave him off. "We are safe here, we won't open the door, and nobody knows we are here. The kids are fed and warm. Have Greg take you to the hospital, and then Toby and Ron can pick us up." "Okay," Matt gives in, and I grin. "And wipe that grin from your face, Josh," he tells me. "Sorry, sir," I say, the grin growing larger at his admonishing words. "Bye, sir. Give Helen a hug from me," I tell him, and he thanks. We hang up, and I turn to Donna. "You up for the Seven Wonders?" I ask her, and she nods with a smile. We step into the living room, where the kids are glued to the TV. I guess this must be a pretty good documentary. Rebecca gives us another quilt, and we sit down in front of the couch. Donna's using my thighs as her pillow, and in about five minutes she is asleep. The kids never see the Lighthouse of Pharos and the Colossus of Rhodes. When the show is over, Rebecca comes in, and gives me a knowing smile when she sees the kids and Donna asleep. "Rough night, eh?" she asks in a whisper. "Yeah. Ms. Royce, you await someone this morning?" I ask her, knowing how strange that question sounds. "No, Mr. Lyman, why?" she asks me. "Please, don't open the door to anyone. You took a risk by taking us in, and I appreciate that. It's for your own safety too that you don't open the door." "Can I help you any other way?" she asks me, taking me by surprise. I thought she would at least have a mild nutty at the mention of risk-taking, but she is cool as a cucumber. It's times like this when I regain hope for humankind. "No, ma'am, thank you for everything so far," I tell her, and she squeezes my shoulder when she leaves, handing me a pillow. I gently lower Donna's head onto it and follow her out. "You were familiar," she tells me, when we reach the kitchen. "Yeah, I'm the White House Chief of Staff," I confess. "Donna's my fianc‚e, but the kids are not ours. They are Miranda and Peter Santos." "I see," she says with a nod, and hands me another cup of coffee. "Will they pick you up?" "Soon, ma'am." "You want me to give a hand with the lunch?" she asks me then, and I nod although I warn her that I'm not that good in the kitchen. "You are not used to it, that doesn't mean you are not good at it," she retorts, and I have to admit, that sentiment has logic. We talk about the NEA and public schools, I ask her about her books, admitting that I've never heard of her before. She laughs at that, taking no offense when I tell her what my usual reading material is comprised of. We prepare lunch together, and we are almost done when Donna walks into the kitchen, I get a kiss, and she encircles my waist from behind while we watch Rebecca stirring the soup in the pot. So this is how normal people spend their Sundays, I admit it, it can be relaxing. Maybe we should try this out. When I impart my newfound wisdom to Donna I get another kiss from her. Guess I said something sweet. I can be sweet sometimes. My Blackberry rings, and I break into a sprint to pick it up before the kids wake up. It's Sam, and we talk for a few moments before I hear a distinctive knocking. Rebecca, she asked me to call her by her given name, goes to the door, Donna and me in tow. "This is Toby Ziegler, Ms. Royce," he tells her, and I nod to Rebecca that it's safe to open the door. Toby steps in, immediately scanning me and Donna for any visible injuries. I give him a reassuring grin, and he nods. Ron follows him inside, and through the crack of the open door I see some agents securing the perimeter. Finally, Toby envelops Donna in a bear hug, and Donna hugs him back fiercely. I knew they were close, I knew they met every week but I didn't know Toby liked her this much. Although they always had some kind of special relationship, even during the first campaign for Bartlet, and especially after Rosslyn. "How are Huck and Molly?" Donna inquires while I lead Ron into the living room. He scoops up Peter, and I lift up Miranda. "They are with their grandmother," Toby says. "Andie sends her hugs," he adds then. "Rebecca," I say, turning to our hostess. "Thank you for everything. You need anything just give us a call." "Thank you, Josh," she says, gives Donna a brief hug and we are out of the house. A black SUV is waiting for us, taking us to the helicopter and we are whisked off to the GW Hospital. Miranda is still out cold when we enter, and I place her into Matt's hands as soon as I spot him. Peter goes to hug him, and we merely nod at each other before I turn to the nurse, instructing her to get an ob/gyn at once. I'm using my Leo-face (as Donna dubbed it), and soon we are escorted into a separate examination room, complete with ultrasound. "Good morning, Ms. Moss, I'm Dr. Keller," a doctor greets her with a smile. "What can I do for you?" "Well, we are here mostly to reassure Josh that nothing happened to the baby," she says with an indulgent smile. "How far are you?" Dr. Keller asks, and I await the answer too. I still don't have that information, and in the back of my mind I think it's somewhat infuriating. I mean, I'm the father, shouldn't I know these things? "About six weeks," Donna tells her, and the doctor nods. "Okay, change into this, and I'll bring a brochure on pregnancy for Mr. Lyman," she says, and I help Donna into the hospital gown. "I hate these things," she complains just when Dr. Keller enters. She gives us a smile and a brochure for me. Great, it has pictures! "Okay, you probably won't be able to see anything but a blob and maybe a tiny hand or feet," she tells us. "I will try to make it move," she says and gels Donna's tummy. The ultrasound gives us a picture, but she was right, I can't make out anything. She points to a spot where our baby is, and I stare at it but to the best of my ability I can't see anything. Well, the important thing is that she sees it. And then I notice a tiny movement for a mere second. "It moved!" I exclaim, and Donna giggles which results in another tiny movement. "Well, it seems to me that everything is alright with the baby," the doctor says. "You have an obstetrician, Donna?" "Yes, thank you," Donna says, while Dr. Keller wipes her tummy clean. "I understand you spent the night on cold ground," Dr. Keller says. "Yes," Donna answers with a nod. "You should schedule a check-up with your doctor then, just to be sure that there is no infection." "Thank you, I'll do that," Donna says and wants to change back into her clothes. "They brought you a new set of clothes," Dr. Keller says, pointing at a bag on the floor. "Thanks," we say in unison, and she leaves us. I change too, and then we make our way back to Matt and the kids. "Is everything okay?" Matt and Toby asks simultaneously, and Donna nods. The kids are nowhere to be seen, guess they have a check-up too. "How is Helen, sir?" Donna asks the president then. "She was awake for a brief period of time," the president tells her, and Donna gently rubs his right upper arm. I'm a bit taken aback, but then see that the President is really grateful for it, so I guess Donna knows what she does. As always. They continue their conversation in whispers, so I turn to Toby. "Thanks for everything, Toby. I will call Andie later to thank her too. Did you two have a hard time to get through?" "No, not really," Toby says. "I asked for Ronna and they put me through immediately. She recognized me as Bob," he says, and we both chuckle. "To get to Camp David was definitely harder, but Andie's presence made it easier, that's why I asked her to accompany me. You can't imagine the look Ron gave me when he first saw me." "You two seemed okay when you picked us up." "Yeah, I guess the messenger got a little shine from your heroics," he says with a self-deprecating chuckle. "Did they find Tim?" I ask him sotto voce, not wanting to upset Matt or Donna. "Not yet, but they are on it," Toby tells me. "Did he call President Bartlet?" I ask, gesturing towards Matt with my head. "Yeah, he was fantastic, but Josh, he sounded so weak," Toby tells me, and I know how deep his regret runs. I know he didn't want to cause any grief to President Bartlet, I know how he respected him. He merely did what his heart dictated. I don't know what I would have done in his place, maybe yelled at the President, at CJ and maybe even at the Joint Chiefs. What he did was treason, but he did it to mend a broken promise to the American people. The promise that their government will ensure their safety above all. "I know, I talked to him last week," I tell Toby, not knowing what to do. I mean with CJ and Donna I know how to handle these things, I'm a tactile person, I hug them to reassure them. I would even hug Sam if he were here and would be in the same situation, but with Toby, I don't know. I look him in the eye, trying to tell him without words that everything will be okay. "I asked Donna to marry me, and she said yes," I tell him finally, maybe it's time for a change of topic. "She was always somewhat crazy if you ask me," Toby says, and Donna and Matt both chuckle at his remark. "Congratulations, Donna, he doesn't deserve you," Toby says, and Donna hugs him again. "But the two of you deserve happiness," he adds then in a whisper, and I think he didn't mean me to hear that, but I did and I'm touched. Matt gathers me in a hug too and he pats my back congratulatory. "Sir, the kids are ready to see you," a nurse informs us, and Matt retreats, leaving us standing around on the floor. "Listen, Toby can drive you home, but I want to wait for the President and I also want to check on Helen if that's okay with you," I tell Donna, and I see she wants to protest. "Donna, I have this," I say, waving the brochure in my hand, "and it tells me that you most likely experience fatigue. Spending the night in the forest and then sleeping on the wooden floor is not what I would call relaxing. Go home, take a shower and get in bed. I should be back around six." "You promise?" she asks me, and I nod. "And stop at a restaurant, Toby, she needs something to eat," I tell them, my mind already back at work. "Okay," Toby says, and I see an agent flanking their side as they leave. I don't know when I can fully trust random Secret Service agents; all I know is that I trust Ron. "Mr. Lyman?" a nurse calls me, and I turn to her. "Mrs. Santos is awake. She asked for you." "Thank you," I tell the nurse, and I venture into Helen's room, bracing myself for the sight. It's not that bad as I remembered from the last time, but then again, Donna was blown up in a car. "Hi, ma'am," I greet her with a grin and I get a slight smile. "Josh, come here," she tells me, and when I lean down, she kisses me on the cheek. "Thank you for taking care of my kids." "Nothing to thank for, ma'am," I tell her, and she nods. "You know, at least in these times you should call me Helen." "I'll try," I tell her with another grin. "I'm bringing happy and sad news for you, ma'am, sorry, Helen." "Really?" she asks me. "I asked Donna to marry me, and she said yes, although I'm sure you were aware of my proposal." "We talked about it, yes. Donna was clearly upset yesterday morning, so I pestered her until she spilled the beans." "Well, then you know that she is pregnant," I tell her, and she nods. "That would be the bad news for you." I grin at her. "Donna promised me to work for me after the baby was born, Josh. We will arrange something," she tells me, looking at me with narrowed eyes. "Okay, I didn't know that, but okay, I guess," I tell her, not wanting to betray my disappointment. "Josh, I need Donna, and she needs this job. You can't expect her to stay at home, do nothing else but feed the baby and wait for you to get home." "Is that really bad?" I ask her in a whisper. "Not bad, Josh, but Donna wouldn't want that. Talk about this with her, but please, please don't put your foot into your mouth again," she implores me. "I'll try, Helen. May I ask for a favor though?" "But of course, Josh, anything," she tells me. "Would you keep an eye on her during this pregnancy? I know I will switch into overprotective mode soon and I will probably irritate the hell out of her, so I need an ally." "I'll keep an eye on her," Helen promises me, and I grin at her again. "Oh, you think you are so smart!" she exclaims, coughing a bit. "Why is he smart?" I hear the President's voice, and I turn around. He is standing in the doorway, Miranda and Peter at his side. "He wanted me to keep an eye on Donna, but he asked me to do this because of me and not because of Donna." "Thank you, Josh," Matt says, and I want to retreat, leaving the family alone. "I know that physical therapy sucks, Helen, but believe me, it's worth the effort," I impart a wisdom I learned some five years ago, and then depart, seeking out Ron. We talk about upping the details of the First Family, and agree that new background checks should be run on every Secret Service agent. That's when Sam, Annabeth and Lou appear at GW. I bark my orders to Lou and Annabeth to head off a PR-disaster. Sam hands me a folder on our way to the limo. We have a country to run, and I have a home to return to, so we move fast and work efficient. Just like every other day. Although I'm sure this day will never fade into the endless string of normal days. No, I'll never be able to forget this day again. This is the day we came out of the woods. THE END