"Hey Sam."

Sam smiled politely at the staffer as they wandered past. As soon as they had gone past, the smile dropped from his face. Doctor Stanley Keyworth, the man he had just spoken to, had asked him when he had first noticed something wrong with Josh. Sam had mulled that one over for a minute or two before he had shrugged, smiling apologetically at him.

'A while I guess.'

'Did you talk to anyone about it?'

Sam had known the answer to that, he had spoken to Donna about Josh. No wait, actually she had approached him about Josh. So he had gone to see Josh and nearly gotten his head bitten off for asking one question.

"Josh, you okay?"

"What? Why? What kind of question is that?"

"I just-"

"The SPR idea you have is a mistake."

"I'm sorry?"

"It's a mistake Sam. I'm paid to know these things. You're a writer, Sam. Just accept that there are some things you don't know okay?"

"Josh, I don't-"

"Come on, you don't honestly think you have the experience that, Leo, Toby or even CJ has around here.."

"I'll talk to you later Josh."

"Fine."

In retrospect Sam mused, he probably shouldn't have opened with the fact that he was worried about Josh. It had left him vulnerable to attack. Some part of him wondered if Josh was right. It was stupid. Keyworth had told him that Josh had just been fighting to bury the voices in his head. However, for some reason that comment had struck a chord within him.

Sam couldn't remember much of the meeting after that, he had just explained Josh's behaviour and actions over the past few weeks. It had been erratic to say the least. Josh's temperament had been extremely volatile. So much so that Sam had felt like the only way to deal with Josh at work was to do a fly by; give Josh the information quickly and then get out.

Sam passed the Mural Room, then paused. Walking back, he stood in the doorway for a moment gazing in at the person who had caught his eye as he walked past. Charlie was sitting on one of the sofas, head in his hands, staring at the floor. "Charlie?"

Charlie raised his head. "Hey Sam. You need something?"

Sam shook his head. It seemed to him that the young man needed someone to talk to. Charlie looked troubled by something; Sam had a feeling he knew exactly what it was. He walked over and sat down opposite him. "No. Do you?"

Charlie looked confused. "What?" he rose "No. I was just a taking a - "

Sam remained seated, staring steadily at him. "It's okay, Charlie."

Charlie sat down heavily. "I was just," he trailed off, glancing at his watch.

"You had your meeting with that guy from ATVA." Sam stated.

"Yes." Charlie interlaced his fingers and stared back down at the floor. "You?"

"Yes." Sam repressed his own emotions and concentrated on Charlie. "How'd it go?"

"Oh, you know, we talked about Josh..." Charlie said softly.

"Yeah," Sam agreed leaning forward and looking at the Charlie seriously. "Josh doesn't blame you, Charlie."

Charlie's head snapped up. "What! How did you!?" From the expression on Charlie's face Sam could tell, Charlie realised that he had given himself away with his response.

Sam saw the reaction and gave Charlie a small smile. "I didn't." It was nice to know that his litigating skills hadn't totally disappeared with all his speech writing. Sam's eyebrow twitched at that thought, he hadn't realised that Josh's comments had hit the mark quite so well.

"But." Charlie stuttered, running his hands down his pants.

It was odd to see the young man so nervous, Sam thought, he was usually so composed especially for someone of his age. "I know." Sam reached out and patted Charlie's leg gently. "He doesn't blame you."

"I never meant for Josh to get shot."

"You're not to blame."

"I never meant for any of this to happen."

"I know."

"Just lately, Josh's been so..." Charlie waved a hand.

Sam did know.

Charlie let out a heavy breath. "I feel like it's my fault."

Sam was silent for a moment weighing up the young man in front of him. "Charlie, did you put the gun in the hand of the shooter?"

"No, but-"

Sam held up a hand. "No, you didn't do this, Charlie. Did you actively set out to date the President's daughter?"

"No, but-"

Sam continued on as soon as Charlie had answered. "Did you do everything in your power to help those around you?"

"Yes, but Sam-"

"Did you have any prior knowledge that this would be the result of your dating the daughter of the President? Or for that matter working closely to the President of the United States?"

"No, but-"

Sam held out a hand staying any further comments. "No buts Charlie. Do you see what I'm getting at here?"

Charlie nodded slowly. "Yeah. I had no control over what happened."

Sam shrugged. "Exactly." He agreed. "When you really think about it, Charlie, it's quite a compliment."

Charlie looked at him incredulous. "How so?"

"It's means you're doing something right."

Charlie started, giving him a strange look. Sam just waited for his comments to sink in, watching as slowly Charlie straightened his shoulders.

"Yeah," he murmured, "yeah, you're right." Charlie rose and Sam followed suit. "Thanks, Sam."

"Anytime." Sam said, patting him on the back. "You going to be okay?"

"Now I am." Charlie answered with the slightest hint of a smile. "Merry Christmas, Sam."

"And to you." Sam responded, watching as the younger man exited the Mural Room. Well, it was nice that he could help Charlie. Damn shame that he couldn't have helped his best friend. Sam sat down on the chair again and scrubbed his face with his hands. Josh was going to be fine, no thanks to him though.

Sam couldn't seem to get Josh's hurtful words out of his head. Even if Josh didn't really mean them, some part of him must've been thinking that Sam had gotten to his position in the Administration way too easily.

Sam sighed and stood. It wasn't worth thinking about. Right now he had to get the SPR thing ready for the President and Leo. Sam looked at the Christmas decorations that adorned the Mural room and frowned. It didn't really feel like Christmas. Where was the joyful holiday spirit of the previous year? It had disappeared with Josh, Sam decided.

God, he had thought Josh was okay.

Sam shook his head, he had work to do. He could think on this later. He glanced at his watch, and wondered when Josh would meet with Stanley. Not soon enough for his liking. Sam heard the choir singing in the lobby and pursed his lips sadly.

It really was beautiful music. It was a shame he wouldn't be sharing Christmas with anyone important this year. He had no family in Washington and he hadn't been able to get back to California to spend Christmas with his parents... not that he had felt like it anyway.. Sam made his way into his office tiredly, and sank down into his chair. There was always the briefing memos that he hadn't read yet that he could look through tomorrow. It didn't matter that it was Christmas, there was always work to be done.

Sam flipped through the files on his desk. A rap at the door made him look up in surprise. Toby was standing there, a concerned expression on his face. "Josh is meeting with the guy now."

Feeling his heart skip at that news, he frowned. That was awfully fast, but then again, these guys from ATVA were trained pros, and Leo had told him he was the last person Stanley would be interviewing. But he had assumed that it would be tomorrow or something.... But then again, tomorrow was Christmas. "Okay."

"You leaving soon?" Toby asked still hovering in the doorway.

"Sure." He stood beginning to rifle through the files he was going to go through tomorrow. "Why?"

"I just wondered if you were going to be doing anything tomorrow... CJ is holding a get together," Toby paused, just looking at him. Sam ignored the concern that he saw there. Why would Toby be concerned about him? After all Toby was the one that had nearly self-destructed after the shooting. "You wanna come?"

Shrugging, Sam raised an eyebrow. "Sure, why not? What time is it?"

Toby thought for a moment, "I think afternoon sometime. You know how CJ is about her cooking."

"Josh going?"

Toby gave an answering shrug. "Don't know. I do know Leo, Cathy, Ginger, Bonnie, Margaret are going."

"Okay." Sam said with a grin, realising that this was CJ's way of paying them back for inviting her last minute to the Thanksgiving game day that they'd had. Sam's smile faded as he mind flew back, Josh had seemed fine then. Where were the signals that he had missed? With an effort he forced himself back to the present. "Do I need to bring anything?"

"No." CJ answered, appearing suddenly by Toby. "Just yourself, Spanky."

Sam started, the last time CJ had called him that was around the time of the shooting. Sam swallowed hard, suddenly remembering the terror of those few minutes. A few minutes that had changed his life irrevocably. Sam fought to control his suddenly racing heart. He could hear the screams, still hear the glass of the car windows shattering.

"Sam? You okay?" Toby asked, walking forward to stand in front of the desk.

Sam shook himself. "Yeah, fine," he lied, hoping that CJ and Toby would buy that. Then again, they might over compensate because of what had happened with Josh. One glance at his friends and Sam gave a mental sigh. Neither of them believed him.

"You look a little pale there." CJ moved to place a hand on his forehead. Sam dodged her. What was he? Five?

"CJ, I'm fine. I'm just tired, it's just been a weird few days." It was meant to be a jesting tone, but it just came out tired and flat.

They both seemed to agree with that. Silence descended for a beat, as each of them contemplated these last few days and the events that had occurred.

Toby scratched his forehead and nodded. "Well, okay. Go home then."

CJ nodded as well, her face pulled into a worried frown. "Yes. Come over about noon, okay?"

Sam nodded and five of the longest minutes later, he had managed to get rid of them. Sam sat back down at his desk and put his head in his hands. He closed his eyes and jumped when he thought he heard the sound of breaking glass. He had saved CJ, when he couldn't save Josh. It had been a split second, Sam couldn't have done anything different, he knew that. Well, his mind knew that, but his heart didn't. He still felt like he should've been able to do something. Save Josh somehow, god, he hadn't even realised that Josh was missing at first. He'd assumed that Josh was in the motorcade with Leo. How wrong he had been – some friend he was.

Sam lay his head down on his desk. He would just have a short nap here, while he waited to see what happened with Josh. He fell asleep still hearing the sound of gunshots and screams.

"Sam?" A hand shook his shoulder, startling him awake.

Sam grunted and raised his head blearily. Leo was standing over him, a fatherly expression of concern on his face. "Leo?"

"What are you still doing here?" Leo glanced at his watch. "It's like ten pm on Christmas Eve."

"Fell asleep," Sam said rubbing his eyes.

"What? You don't have a bed?" Leo asked wryly.

"You're here," He leaned back in his chair, twisting his back to get the kinks out.

"Yeah, but I'm just about to spend Christmas Eve with the First Family."

Sam frowned. "Oh."

"You want to come?" Leo asked with a smirk.

Sam managed a grin at the question, "No. I think I could live without a history of Saint Nicholas this Christmas."

Leo patted his shoulder in understanding. Sam looked up at him. "So how's Josh?"

"Fine." Leo grimaced, "Well, he's going to get better. He finished up his meeting with Stanley and Donna's taking him to get his hand looked at."

Sam nodded. "Oh good." Well, so much for checking to see if Josh was okay. He had fallen asleep on the job, so much for trying to do better this time. "So he's still working here?"

Leo looked at him with a bland expression. "Of course he is."

"Good." Sam said standing, and stretching a little. "I suppose I should go home and get some sleep. You going to CJ's?"

Leo gave a nod and then patted him on the arm again. "Josh is going to be fine, Sam."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, so glad that his friend was going to be fine, but still feeling like a heel because he hadn't done anything to help him. "Thanks, Leo."

Leo nodded and looked at him like he was going to say something, but then thought better of it. He patted Sam on the shoulder again, and then exited the office.

Pulling on his coat, Sam dumped his briefcase on top of a box of briefing memos and then walked out to his car.

Walking into his apartment a half-hour later, Sam dumped the pages of briefs on the kitchen table and sat down to work. He couldn't get his mind to stop working through the shooting. Sam was blaming it on Stanley and his questions.

So where were you standing at the time of the shooting?

It was a relatively simple question when he thought about it, Sam mused, but it just kept circling in his head. What if he had been standing with Josh, could he have helped him? But if he hadn't been with CJ she could be dead, and god... Sam let out a frustrated grunt as he ran his hands through his hair. "God get a grip Sam. It's not like you were shot."

Sam stopped short at that. He hadn't been shot – he didn't have a right to feel this way. He grabbed a bottle of scotch from his liquor cabinet and took a strong swig. It didn't help, it didn't stop the voice calling him a coward. He hadn't been able to save Josh, and when he was hurting again, Sam hadn't noticed. What sort of friend did that make him?

Grabbing and pulling on a sweater and an overcoat, Sam left his apartment, to go for a short walk to clear his head. It was a testament to his circling thoughts that he ended up outside Josh's apartment building, staring up at it. He could see a light was on, which probably meant Josh was home. He could see a tarp had been placed over the window. Sam shivered and it wasn't from the cold wind as he realised what that tarp signified. Josh had put his hand through a window. Good lord. Sam seriously considered going in, but it was late and Josh might be asleep. He shouldn't disturb his friend. Josh didn't need to deal with his petty insecurities.

Sam swivelled and turned and began walking slowly back to his apartment, he reached it just as the sun began to creep through the clouds. It began to thaw the frost on the pavement, Sam walked up the stairs and entered his apartment.

He felt so cold.

Moving stiffly, his numb fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, he began to undress, throwing the shirt aside, he pulled his pants off. Quickly stripping off the rest of his clothes, Sam took a hot shower, trying to get warm. Sam turned his face up into the spray, wishing he could just stop thinking about the shooting.

Finally warm enough, he stepped out and grabbed a cup of coffee. He glanced at the clock and was surprised to see that it was about six am. He had a few hours to go before he had to make an appearance at CJ's, so Sam stumbled to the bed. He fell into a restless sleep, dreaming about Josh at the hospital and the days afterward and the scene in the Oval Office.

It was the phone ringing that brought him out of his sleep. Rolling over, he answered it.

"Seaborn."

"Merry Christmas, darling."

Sam barely refrained from rolling his eyes. "Mom," he said with forced cheer. He glanced at the clock, god he'd only been asleep two hours. He felt like he hadn't slept at all. He closed his eyes, and listened to his mother speak. He spoke at the right moments and said the right things, but his heart wasn't really in it. He heard the telltale double beep of another call coming in and sighed. "Mom, I've got to go."

After a quick goodbye and a promise to visit soon, Sam answered the other call, but by then they had already hung up. Sam glanced at the clock. God, he had been talking to his mother for over two hours, he hadn't even got a chance to speak to his father. Great. Now he had to hurry to make it to CJ's on time. He staggered out to the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee and had another quick shower and a shave.

Sam gave a mental shrug when he looked in the mirror. He looked like shit, but there was nothing he could do about that. Briefly he pondered, not going to CJ's, then dismissed it. He had to go; there was no way out of it. Too many questions would be raised if he didn't turn up. Hurrying out a half-hour later, he made it to his car and drove to CJ's trying desperately to concentrate. He shouldn't have driven, he was way too tired. Sam forced himself not to think about the statistics of car accidents and fatigue. He finally made it to CJ's and he was only fifteen minutes late. Sam was impressed that he had managed to get there close to on time at all, considering his morning. He closed his eyes, attempting to will himself into the Christmas spirit.

It didn't work.

Sam hopped out of the car and jogged up the terrace staircase that led to CJ's apartment block, hoping on some level the short bit of exertion would infuse him with the joyful Christmas cheer that he was renowned for. Nope, that hadn't worked either. He let out a sigh, the cold air misting in front of him. He shivered and tried to remember who would be at this Christmas party. He shouldn't have come, he was too tired to fake being okay. He would stay for a little while and then leave. He needed to be around his friends. He rapped on the door and waited.

CJ opened it with a big smile. "Sam, you made it, Merry..." Her voice trailed off and the smile fell off her face, to be replaced with concern. "You okay?"

Sam shot her a tired grin. "Just got off the phone from my mother."

She gave him a quick Christmas hug. "You poor thing, come inside, it's chilly out."

Sam let her take his coat and hang it up. He surveyed the room and wasn't surprised to see that he was the last to arrive. He was shocked to see Josh there, he was sitting in deep conversation with Toby and Donna. Sam shot them a brief smile. Josh smiled at him and then frowned and said something to Toby. Toby and Donna both turned to look at him and Sam was suddenly very aware that he was being evaluated. Great. He knew he looked bad, but this was ridiculous.

CJ patted his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. "You look terrible Sam. Is your mom okay?"

Sam turned to focus on CJ. "Yeah, she is I think I'm getting sick or something." That was good, it would get CJ off his back for a little while. Sam was well aware that he sounded tired, but how was he supposed to be on only two hours sleep? "She just wore me down that's all. My mother can be..." He hesitated, searching for the right phrase, but then shrugged. "She's just mom, that's all."

A sympathetic smile on her face CJ guided him over to the couch. Sam looked about the place. "You've done a great job CJ."

She had, too. The place had been decorated very nicely, a Christmas tree sat snugly in the corner of the living room near where Toby, Josh and Donna were congregated on several chairs. Leo was standing by a fake fire heater. He was talking to several of the assistants, Bonnie, Ginger, Cathy and Margaret. CJ gave him another gentle hug. "Thank you." Then she was gone, disappearing into the kitchen. Sam gave a mental sigh. He felt comfortable with CJ, now he had to talk to Josh. He wasn't sure if was ready for that, he was just so tired.

Sam wondered about who to approach first. His hesitation must've been obvious because Josh stood to approach him and Sam had a sudden urge to flee.

"Hey kid," Sam looked to his right and saw, with surprise, Leo standing there. He must've been more tired then he thought for Leo to sneak up on him like that.

"Merry Christmas, Leo."

"Merry Christmas." Leo said, and then he stood there silently for a moment just looking at him. Sam shifted uncomfortably under the weight of that stare. "You didn't go to bed last night, did you?"

"I went to bed," he said defensively. Leo just looked at him steadily. Sam felt a flush creep into his cheeks. "I did sleep."

"Obviously not very well." Leo nodded with his head for them to move into the hallway that led to CJ's bedroom and bathroom. Sam ignored the curious and concerned looks that Toby and Josh sent them.

Sam leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms protectively in front of him. "What's this about, Leo?"

"I wasn't going to mention this until after the holidays..." Leo paused un-characteristically, looking around him uncomfortably. Sam got the distinct impression that Leo didn't want to talk about this now, but felt compelled. The thought was disquieting.

"Yes?"

"But you look like..."

Sam shifted uneasily, he knew he didn't look great, but obviously he looked as bad as he felt.
"Yes, Leo?" he prompted, when Leo was silent for a moment.

"I think it would be better if I told you now."

"Yes?"

"I had brief talk with that guy from ATVA yesterday evening."

Sam raised an eyebrow in concern. "Oh yeah? Josh is okay, isn't he?"

"Josh will be fine, but that's not what this talk was about."

"It wasn't?" Sam asked, suddenly feeling confused and more vulnerable that he had in a long time.

"No."

"What was it about?"

"We talked about the other staff."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"And? I know Charlie might need some more counselling, I saw him last night, I think I got through him to him though."

"Charlie will be fine, I had a chat with him last night.. He told me a little bit about your talk." Leo paused and favoured him with a look of approval. "You really helped him out."

Sam nodded. "Well, good that was..."

"Anyway," Leo cut him off. "Stanley mentioned something..."

Sam frowned, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Yes?"

"He recommended that you see somebody too."

"No." Sam said fiercely. "No. I'm fine." It was a strain to keep his voice even, but years as working as a lawyer had trained him well.

Leo shook his head at him. "Sam, listen..."

"Leo," Sam began, only to stop when he saw Leo wave at him to be quiet.

"Everything okay?"

Sam closed his eyes briefly. Josh. Trust Josh to come over and see what was happening. Sam turned pasting a smile on his face, but it was Leo that answered. "Everything's just fine, Josh."

Josh's eyes darted between them for a moment and then he shrugged. "Okay. You guys going to come out and join the party?"

"Sure," Leo nodded, "We'll talk later," he murmured as he brushed past to re-enter the fray in the living room.

Sam leaned back and closed his eyes, briefly. He couldn't believe Stanley and Leo had talked about him. As for him seeing a shrink, that was just absurd, he didn't need to see anyone. He was fine.

"Sam?"

Sam's eyes snapped open and he jumped. Josh was standing beside him, a rather worried expression on his face. "Hey Josh, Merry Christmas." He moved to walk past Josh, but Josh caught his arm.

"What's up?"

Sam looked down at the ground and shook his arm free. "Nothing."

Josh grabbed him again when he went to move away. "I don't believe you."

"Don't worry." Sam gently extracted his arm from Josh's grasp and clapped him on the shoulder. "How are you?"

Josh looked away and then sighed. "I'm okay."

"Good." Sam said softly, unable to meet Josh's eyes as he said that. Unable to admit how badly he had screwed up as Josh's friend.

"Guys?" Donna's voice broke the conversation.

"Yeah?" Josh answered. His gaze shifted from Sam to the end of the hallway where Donna was standing. Josh propelled Sam forward and into the living area as he spoke to Donna.

Sam didn't actually hear the context of the conversation between Josh and Donna, he had learned to habitually tune out their banter. But today he was just having trouble focusing his thoughts. He heard CJ break a glass in the kitchen as he walked past to join the party and felt his heart skip a beat. Suddenly he was back at Rosslyn. Pushing CJ out of the way.... He could still hear the screams. Sam shivered, bracing himself against the kitchen bench.

"Don't just stand there, Samuel, I could use some help here." CJ said, bending down to pick up the shards of broken glass. "Sam?" CJ asked, looking up at him, a frown on her face.

Sam opened his mouth to speak and then just nodded. Squatting down beside her, he helped her clean the mess up. The sound of the glass being placed in the bin, made him wince. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He had to get out of here. Leo was hovering in the kitchen doorway about to corner him again, Sam was sure. God, he couldn't do this now.

Sam grabbed CJ's arm. "Listen, there is this thing I have to take care of. I think I left the coffee pot on... and you know one should never leave electrics unattended... I've gotta go."

"Don't those things have an automatic shut off?" CJ straightened and turned to face him.

"Oh yeah? Well... I've just remembered that I have to call this friend... I don't have the number with me, so..."

"Can't they wait? Sam, it's Christmas day." CJ said with a frazzled frown at him. She let out a light confused laugh. "What could you possibly have that's more important than spending time with your friends?"

Sam just shrugged, backing away from the kitchen and past Leo to grab his coat. "I have to go." CJ followed him.

"Why? Why can't they wait?"

"No reason... look I've got to go." Sam hastily grabbed his coat, aware now that they had the entire party's attention. "Merry Christmas everyone." He didn't really acknowledge the goodbyes and chorus of well wishers, just backed out the front door.

He was at his car before he knew it, leaning against it, breathing deeply, trying to stop his mind from thinking. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head and prayed for some kind of way out of this... he was losing it.

A gentle hand resting on his back made Sam jump a mile. His hand to his heart, he turned and saw Josh standing there. "God! Don't do that!"

A brief apologetic smile crossed Josh's face. "Sorry." Josh dropped his hand from Sam's back and peered at Sam with an assessing look.

They were both silent for a moment. Sam jingled his keys in his hand nervously not wanting to break the silence. He just knew the next question Josh was going to ask.

Josh reached out touching Sam's arm once to stop him juggling his key's nervously. "What's going on, Sam?"

"Nothing." It was a defensive answer and one that Josh was unlikely to believe given his actions of the past few minutes.

"Sure," Josh answered shoving his hands in his pockets. Sam noted that his friend wasn't wearing a coat and sighed.

"Go back inside, it's cold out here."

"I know, but I'm not thin blooded like you and I can take it." Josh kidded, it had been a long running joke between them that Sam couldn't really take cold weather.

It didn't have the reaction Josh would've been hoping for; Sam blanched. The words brought back the memory of Josh bleeding out and Rosslyn. He had never seen anything like that before... and he hoped to god he never would again. Shaking his head and blinking hard to rid himself of the image, Sam tried to focus on the man in front of him. Josh was here and alive.

"Sam?" Josh reached out to touch him, but Sam stepped back, afraid. Afraid of what he wasn't sure – afraid of what Josh would get out of him possibly. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Sam knew that his answer wouldn't sound convincing when he heard how shaky his voice sounded. "Look I've got this thing. I have to call-"

Josh gave a negative shake of his head. "See that's the thing, I don't believe you do, Sam. I just think you're avoiding being with us, or me. Look I know I've been a bit of a..."

"Look, I have some things to take care of – it's got nothing to do with you or Leo, or the fact that..." Sam paused, thinking better of telling Josh that Leo wanted him to see a shrink. He didn't need to, he was fine. Josh was the one in trouble - Josh had been shot, Sam reminded himself, he didn't have a right to feel this way. "Josh, it was perfectly understandable how you've been reacting, none of us, ..." He had to pause again as he fought back his own memories of Rosslyn, but Josh wasn't looking at him any more, just staring down at his shoes as if he was busy in his thoughts. "You were right about it anyway." Sam said, realising as he said it that he meant it.

Josh did look up then, a frown creasing his forehead. "What?"

Sam faked a smile. "Nothing." He glanced over at CJ's. "She's probably about to serve lunch, go."

Josh sighed. "Fine."

"Merry Christmas." Sam said clapping him on the shoulder, "See you later this week."
He got into his car and watched Josh shake his head again before he headed back up into CJ's place, after he had gone in, Sam pulled his car out into the street. Once again, he had the mini pseudo lecture by President Bartlet going around in his head, about driving while tired. On some level Sam thought he should've been concerned that the President was lecturing him without him actually being there in person. Yet, he just couldn't bring himself to care.

By the time that he reached his home, Sam was exhausted. He needed to sleep for more than two hours and going to CJ's had been a mistake. He felt like he had just gone five rounds with Mike Tyson. He collapsed on the couch, grabbing the bottle of scotch he left on the coffee table the night before and took another strong swig.

Sam rose from the couch, pulling out several shot glasses from the liquor cabinet, he counted them, he had ten. Stumbling back to the couch, he deposited the shot glasses on the table before him. He shivered, wondering idly if he could be bothered turning up the thermostat, then deciding against it. He was too tired to move. Closing his eyes Sam fell into a restless sleep.

He awoke three hours later, his heart pounding in his chest. He leaned forward and buried his head in his hands. Why couldn't he let this go? So he had let Josh down, Josh wouldn't blame he would he?

Sam saw the shot glasses lying on the table and an uncontrollable urge to break something cascaded through him. Reaching forward, he picked up one of the tiny shot glass, hefting it to judge its weight, then without any conscious thought he stood and threw it hard into his fireplace. The sound of the breaking glass made him freeze, sinking back down on the couch, Sam shuddered.

It could've easily gone either way. He had to be near CJ to save her, but maybe...somehow he could've saved Josh... and he hadn't even noticed that he was missing. That was the crux of the problem, he hadn't noticed.

Some friend he was.

He reached for another glass and flung it at the fireplace. The shattering glass, brought with it the screams of Rosslyn and the shattered sound of his friend gasping for breath.

He reached for another and threw it.

This time, the sound brought Toby shouting for help, the image of Josh bleeding out, the paramedics trying to save Josh.

He threw another.

Sam recalled Josh mumbling incoherently on the stretcher in the hospital, Josh shouting at the president, gunfire.

"Sam!" A voice called outside his apartment. There was a banging on his front door.

Ignoring it, Sam reached for another glass and prepared to throw it.

The door was flung open and Josh stumbled through it, a panicked expression on his face.

"Sam?!" Josh kicked the door shut behind him and approached him, his hands out in front of him in a calming gesture.

Sam frowned at him. "What are you doing here?" He suddenly wished that he had never given Josh a key to his home.

"What are you doing?" Josh asked, ignoring Sam's question.

Contemplating the question for a moment, Sam couldn't think of an appropriate response. He shook his head. "Spring cleaning."

Josh didn't laugh, if anything his face grew more concerned. Sam couldn't stand to see that expression of concern directed at him. He didn't deserve it, he wasn't a good friend. He went to throw the glass in his hand and Josh moved quickly, forcefully stopping him.

Sam struggled against his hold and then realized it was useless; Josh wasn't letting him go. He slumped down to sit on the floor, Josh went with him, squatting down beside him. "What's going on Sam?" Josh asked gently.

Sam closed his eyes at the sudden wealth of emotion he felt. He couldn't speak. He went to move away from his friend, but Josh forestalled him, clamping both hands down on his shoulders. "Sam?"

"Why are you even here?"

"Because, you're my friend. My best friend, Sam." Josh shook his shoulders gently as if to emphasise his words.

"Yeah, well, then you're a better friend then me," he muttered, then gulped, realising what he had just said.

"What?" Josh said quietly.

Sam shook his head. "Nothing." He rested his head in his hands. God. What was wrong with him? It wasn't like he had gotten shot. God, he should've been able to help Josh.

Josh squeezed his shoulders and then sat down on the coffee table. Sam played with the shot
glass in his hands. "Tell me." Josh took the glass from his hands and placed on the table beside him.

"There's nothing to tell."

"Right and you throw shot glasses into your fireplace for recreation." Josh drawled dryly. "The last time you did this was after the whole Cruz thing..."

Sam shook his head. "I was just letting off steam..." Sam hoped that would appease his friend's worry, but he knew it wouldn't, Josh wasn't someone who would let it go so easily.

"About?"

"You don't have to worry," Sam said quietly, not looking at him. "I just didn't sleep last night."

"Why?"

Sam shrugged. "Because."

"Oh that's a smart answer." They were both silent for a long minute. Then Josh spoke. "I have PTSD."

Sam nodded. "I know."

Josh gave a little cough at that. "Well..."

Another uncomfortable silence fell between them and Sam sighed. "I'm sorry."

He felt more than saw Josh's frown. "For what?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't ...for... shit...everything."

Josh let out a snort of laughter. "Well, that's real eloquent of you there, Sam."

Sam rested his head in his hands. Josh rested a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for what I said to you the other day, when I said those things about you and experience."

Sam shrugged. "You weren't yourself."

"Still, I'm sorry."

Sam raised his head and met Josh's eyes for the first time since Josh had sat down on the coffee table. He swallowed hard at the earnest concern he saw in Josh's eyes. Sam nodded, feeling his heart in his throat. He should've been able to help Josh. He closed his eyes, trying to fight back the fear.

"So, why didn't you sleep last night?" Josh asked gently.

Sam sighed. "I just didn't."

"Did you work all night? Go late night Christmas shopping? What?"

"God, What does it matter?"

"Because you're my friend and I'm really getting tired of the sound of breaking glass coming from your apartment. It's just not good, Sam."

It was said so simply and Sam swallowed hard at the surge of emotion that went through him. He rose shakily from where he sat, needing to put some distance between himself and Josh. He stared down at the broken glass in the fireplace.

"Sam?"

Sam shook his head, swiping at his eyes. "It's nothing."

"Sure." Josh rose now and approached him, forcing Sam to turn and face him. "What did Leo want?"

Sam looked away from Josh and sighed trying to figure out what to say. It wasn't worth fudging on the truth, Josh would know he was lying and in the end it was pointless, because Josh would get the truth out of him later anyway. His eyes darted to met Josh's again, then he glanced down at the jagged pieces of broken glasses again. "Stanley called him up last night, apparently, they think I need to see a therapist."

Josh frowned for a moment, and then his expression cleared. "I see."

"But I don't need to see one Josh, I really don't. I'm not like..."

"Jumping at things that aren't even there?" Josh cut him off. Sam froze.

"What? You mean in the kitchen at CJ's?" Sam gave a little laugh. "That was nothing, I'm just tired, I had like two hours sleep."

"Why?"

Sam frowned in confusion. "Why what?"

"Why did you have two hours sleep on Christmas Eve?" Josh asked patiently.

Sam let out a frustrated groan, "God, I spent the night walking the streets. Is that what you want to hear?"

Josh gripped his arm more firmly. "Why?"

"Because I.. I couldn't sleep, damn it." Sam sucked in a heaving breath trying to bring his raw emotions back under control. But he was just so tired. "I couldn't save you, damn it. Don't you see?" Sam closed his eyes, vaguely aware that he was very close to crying, but not really caring any more. "I didn't even realise that you had been... I thought you were in the motorcade with Leo." He sucked in another deep breath that caught on a wave of emotion. Sam ran a hand through his hair. "But if I hadn't been with CJ, she'd be dead now too. She froze... I could..." Sam swallowed hard, not even sure of what he was saying. He felt Josh's hand's grip his shoulders.

"Sam, there was ...." Josh paused, taking a deep breath. "I don't blame you. It's not your fault, any of it. You have to let go of the guilt."

"But..."

Josh shook him by the shoulders gently. "No, but's here. Sam, this had nothing to do with you. Now, I'd love to say I'm fine, but I'm not, I'm doing okay. I know what's wrong with me, and I will get better and..." He shook Sam more forcefully by the shoulders. "And so will you."

Sam took a deep breath wiping his eyes. "I'm just so tired."

"I know," Josh said, squeezing his shoulders gently.

"I let you down, I'm sorry."

"No. You. Didn't." Josh enunciated each word carefully, as if he hoped that by doing so he would get Sam to heed his words.

Sam nodded finally and blinked tiredly at Josh. "Okay."

"Really?" Josh said, his eyes searching Sam's face for some sign obviously that he had gotten through to him.

Sam shrugged. "It's going to take time for me to believe that and I don't know if I ever really will, but for now, okay. That's the best I can do."

Josh nodded after a moment. "That's all I can ask."

Sam smiled. "Feel like a drink?"

Josh eyes flashed with humour, though his expression was still serious. "Have you got any glasses left?"

Feeling his cheeks flush, Sam raised an eyebrow. "Probably." He gestured at the coffee table. "See? There are a few shot glasses left."

"What are we drinking?" Josh sat down on the couch.

"Scotch." Sam began pouring two shots of scotch and then handed one to Josh. He sat down on the couch beside Josh. "To friendship."

"To friendship." Josh echoed, downing the shot. Sam followed suit. Two downed shots, two friends together on Christmas.

Sam rolled the glass in his hand, aware that Josh was still eyeing him with some worry. "I'll be okay."

Josh placed the shot glass on the table. "Tell me why you do that.." he gestured to the fireplace and the broken glass.

Sam frowned, thinking about it. "I don't know, it's allows me to express my feelings in a way that won't hurt anyone that I care about... it's just a release."

"I saw your expression when you throwing them today, Sam, it was hurting you."

Sam flinched.

"What made it different today?"

"The sound of breaking..." Sam hesitated, afraid to admit to the punishment he had been inflicting on himself before Josh had interrupted him by barging into his home. But Josh's quick mind filled in the gaps.

"Jesus Sam!" Josh exclaimed, "Are you nuts?"

Sam opened his mouth to respond, but Josh waved a hand clearly not wanting a response to that question.

"Don't answer that. God. What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't." Sam placed the shot glass on the table. "For some reason, it made sense at the time."

Josh was silent for a long moment, but when he spoke his voice was controlled and even. "Please, tell me you're going to take up Leo's advice. Tell me you're going to speak to someone."

Sam nodded. "Yes, I am."

Letting out a deep sigh of relief, Josh patted his knee briefly. "Did I tell you what I did to my hand?"

"No, but I can guess."

"How?" Josh was clearly confused.

"I went by your place, I saw the tarp."

"Oh." Josh fell silent for a moment. "Well, ..."

"What happened at CJ's?" Sam asked abruptly, realising that Josh should've been still at CJ's Christmas luncheon.

Josh smiled at him. "Leo kinda told me, what happened... well," he amended with a wave of his hand, "Not everything obviously, just that he was worried about you... Okay, I left, because I wanted to check on you. As for the others, they were just concerned about you, after your little scene earlier, they were afraid you were getting sick or something."

"Sorry," Sam murmured, remembering his hasty exit from CJ's.

Josh's gaze softened. "Don't worry about it."

Sam rose to clean up the broken glass and wavered when he felt a surge of light-headedness.

Josh stood swiftly steadying him. "Whoa, easy there." Josh eased him back down onto the couch. "Head between your knees."

Sam ignored him. "I'm fine. Just a little tired is all."

"When did you last eat?"

Sam thought about that then decided it was probably better if he didn't answer that question. Josh was all business as he checked Sam over. Batting the hands away that were checking his temperature, Sam went to stand again, but Josh held him down.

"Sit. I'm going to get you something to eat."

"You don't have to."

"No?" Josh squatted down beside him. "Would you do the same for me?"

"Sure, of course..."

Josh stood. "See. That's what friends do for one another." Josh moved away entering his kitchen.

Sam watched him go and then rose slowly in an attempt to hold off any light-headedness. He felt pleased with himself when it worked. Sam could hear Josh muttering to himself as he looked through pantry. Sam moved over to the fireplace and squatting down, he grabbed a old piece of newspaper and reached into to clean up the glass.

"Hey, you know...." Josh trailed off as he obviously saw what Sam was about to do. "What do you think you're doing?"

Sam gave a shrug. "I'm cleaning the glass up."

"That was obvious." Josh said dryly. "The question is why?"

"Because you can't leave broken glass lying around."

Josh snorted, and then disappeared back into the kitchen and squatted down beside him brandishing a dustpan and brush. "Go and sit on the couch, I'll do this."

Sam looked at him indignant. "I'm perfectly capable of doing this."

Josh glared at him. "Sure." He pushed Sam's hands away when Sam went to pick up the glass again. "You're in my way here."

"I'm fine." Sam protested.

"You nearly fainted, that's not fine." Josh said, depositing the swept glass onto the newspaper. "Now go sit on the couch, while I clean this mess up."

Sam sighed, Josh wasn't going to let him help. Standing, Sam forgot that he needed to do things slowly and had to brace himself against the mantle as everything went black for a few seconds.

"Easy." Josh was steadying him again. "Way to prove my point there."

Not bothering to answer that, Sam allowed Josh to help him over to the couch. Sam flopped down onto it under Josh's watchful gaze. "I'm fine."

"No you're not. You need to eat something." Josh caught sight of the scotch bottle on the table and shook his head at Sam. "And you've had exactly how much scotch before I got here?"

Sam shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure."

"Well, it's probably not helping matters at all."

Sam gave a small grin. "Probably not, but I feel better having had it."

Fighting a laugh, Josh shook his head at Sam and then went back to the kitchen, he returned a moment later, "Scrambled eggs, okay? Because it's the only thing I can cook on short notice with what you have here."

Sam nodded and then closed his eyes. Josh gently brushed his hair back. "Rest for a little bit, okay?"

"Okay," Sam mumbled, this time falling into easy slumber with the sounds of Josh bustling about his kitchen following him into his dreams. Everything was going to be just fine; it was beginning to feel like Christmas after all.