Rating: MATURE

Warning: Choose not to use archive warning

Fandom: The West Wing

Category: F/M

Pairing: Josh/Donna

Characters: Josh Lyman, Donna Moss, Leo McGarry, CJ Cregg, Mandy Hampton

Tags: Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Physical Abuse, Domestic Violence, Intimate Partner Violence

Title: Parliament of Dreams

Summary: Josh has a problem, and there's only one person he can turn to for help.

Author's Note:

STRONG warnings for domestic violence / intimate partner violence. Please be mindful.

He spends the entire drive back to the White House mentally kicking himself for making an offer so good they took it - but, he keeps reminding himself, even a Republican would want to work in the White House, and those two are neither Republicans nor financially able to be quite as discerning about jobs as they used to be. He rubs his chest absently and dismisses the wince as overreacting, letting his brain fall back into the patterns of when Mandy used to ... when they used to date.

He slams on the brakes when an idiot out-of-towner pulls in front of him too suddenly. God, he hates tourists. He didn't like them anywhere else he lived, but D.C. seems to bring a special breed of tourist, the breed that needs their license pulled. He rubs his chest absently and blames it on the seat belt.

He flashes his ID and greets the lone security guard on his way in, wondering as he hoists his bag for the millionth time why he put it on his off side. The fact that his chest twinges as soon as he shifts the bag to its normal place makes him rub at it again, gently and not quite absently this time. He swears under his breath and detours to the bathroom. At this hour, it's vacant enough that he just drops his bag by sink to unbutton his shirt.

It's not exactly a bruise yet. That's all he can think as he stares at the dark red mark. Well, no, that's not all. He stares at it for several minutes trying to see the shape of Mandy's backhand, and then he remembers all the times it was all too easy to make out her hand, and then he remembers all the times she broke his skin and sends a little wordless prayer of gratitude to the universe.

Eventually, he starts to feel nauseous. The hyperfocus on something so negative - an injury, an ugly shape with an ugly color, the fact that ishe/i hit him again - has him completely overwhelmed, and it almost takes an act of Congress for him to wrench his gaze away and readjust his clothing. He splashes some cold water on his face to try to drive away the nausea and the thoughts, carefully puts his bag over the normal shoulder, and heads to Leo's office.

"Hey, kid," the older man says without looking up from his paperwork. "How'd it go?"

The man may be as close to family as Josh ever expected to gain as an adult, but he's still the boss, and this is still the office. "She's on board," he reports, hand stealing to the rapidly forming bruise.

Leo looks up and nods. "What happened?"

"Hmm?"

"Hurt your chest?"

He snatches his hand away and stuffs it in his pocket. "Oh. Yeah. Bruise."

Leo's lips quirk. "Don't go getting clumsy on me again, Josh. All that on the campaign was enough for me."

Josh feels his brain grind to a stop. All that on the campaign? Leo noticed? And he didn't say anything until now, to warn Josh to stop? "Yes, sir," he forces out, no idea what else to say.

"You heading out now?"

His brain reengages slowly. "Yeah. No, I mean, almost. I need to stop by my desk and see if Donna left anything I should take care of tonight. But then yes. Yes, I'm heading out."

Leo's attention is back on his paperwork halfway through Josh's answer. "Have a good night."

The man definitely cares, but he's also made work his priority, and Josh normally respects and appreciates that. "You, too. Don't stay too late." When there's no reply after a beat, he turns out for his office.

As usual when he's left for a bit while Donna was still there, there's a small stack of folders on his desk. They're fanned out so he can see the colors - light blue, light blue, green (something serious or Donna being Donna, he wonders), dark blue, light red, orange, and dark red. He reaches for the orange folder, but his hand freezes on the way. That's not dark red; it's black.

"Donna?" he calls, and his new assistant pops into his office a moment later.

"You shouted, oh great and powerful one?"

"What happened to my folders?"

She smiles and points to his desk. "They're right there."

"Did a rainbow vomit on them?"

"Do you know any rainbows with grudges who might get you back that way?"

He mock glares at her before a thought hits him. "No, but there is this gay guy from college who really hates me because his dog liked me better."

"I would definitely vomit on the very important papers of anyone who got more affection from my pet than I did," she says with a straight face.

The only possible response is to roll his eyes, so he does exactly that. With his back turned, on his way to his chair, which explains his surprise when she immediately scolds him.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Joshua. You started that."

"Fine," he acquiesces, "but can you explain what happened to my folders?"

"I fixed them," Donna answers, pulling out one of his guest chairs and taking a seat. "Or improved them. Whichever phrasing you like better."

"I like my old folders better," he argues.

"You haven't even tried the new folders," she counters.

He picks up the top two and waves them at her. "They don't make sense."

"They do. Blue is issues where Democrats are leading in the polls, and red is Republican. Dark for foreign, light for domestic. Green for money-"

"As in the Governor talking about money?"

"As in the campaign's money, though if you'd like me to put my bank statements in a green folder, maybe that would help you decide to put me on payroll sooner."

"Having my black folders back might do the trick," he grouses, certain of her answer.

"Having your black folders back will do nothing for your productivity and everything for my migraines."

Huh. He wonders if she really does get migraines. "Just five colors?"

"Orange for fairly urgent matters. Don't worry; there are more colors at the store when you decide you need another category."

"Am I ever going to see a black folder again?" he asks, half-seriously.

Donna smiles as she stands. "Only in your dreams."

As it happens, he has seen black folders since then, but it's always been something for his eyes only from someone else's office ... and, yes, that one time he had a nightmare about going colorblind and his office returning to pre-Donna levels of chaos, but he's sworn himself to silence on that.

And the other time.

And now.

He has a feeling they're related.

It's tucked in the middle of a bunch of other folders Donna stuffed into his bag for him to read on the flight, and he doesn't think anything of it as he pulls it out first. There's no sticky note, but his bag is notorious for eating sticky notes - maybe she forgot or didn't have time to paperclip the note to the folder. He looks around carefully to be sure he's positioned so his neighbors can't possibly read it before flipping open the black folder. He thinks he doesn't have expectations right until he reads the header on the first page.

Domestic Abuse Safety Planning

He snaps the folder shut and swallows hard, fear coursing through him. After a minute, he gets a handle on himself. CJ has been pushing for more women's issues; maybe this is one of her proposals.

Contrary to popular belief, men can also be victims of domestic abuse and need just as much support and caring as their female counterparts.

With that as the first line, and with the formatting being more suited to an individual picking and choosing from multiple sources rather than one organization's materials, he can't keep thinking it's a women's initiative. Someone put this together for him. Someone thinks he's a battered woman, or a battered man. He can't read it, but he can't stop reading it.

Fill in some people you can turn to when you need to talk or to get out of the relationship.

He finds a pen in his hand before he knows what he's doing. Dad. Mom. Chris. Donna. He hesitates for a long moment before moving on; nobody else would both help and treat him the same way they always have.

Warning signs that it might turn ugly:

The thing is, their relationship started ugly. It started ugly, it is ugly, and there's no chance it will end in any other way. The only warning sign that Mandy is going to yell at him or hit him or take his folders so he has to beg Donna for another copy is Mandy being around instead of in another state. He's hardly going to write that, though, in case someone gets a hold of this somehow. Maybe he should burn it.

I will leave a copy of important papers, spare keys, and cash with _ in case I need to leave quickly.

When I expect we are going to have an argument, I will try to move to _. (Try to avoid kitchens, garages, anywhere with weapons, and rooms without outside doors.)

I will ask _ and _ to see if one of them will let me stay with them.

I will sit down and review my safety plan regularly, every _, to be sure it is still accurate. _ (friend or advocate) has agreed to help me do this.

For safety at work, I can tell _ to help me avoid my partner.

He doesn't notice he's breathing too fast until the woman seated beside him - unfortunately a short brunette - hands him a paper bag and tells him to put his head between his knees.

He can't deal with this here. Leo is the only other senior person in the building, and he ... well, Josh won't be sharing with Leo anything related to Mandy anytime soon if he can help it.

He jams the black folder into his backpack as fiercely as he can, not that the folder can feel insulted. He makes a slight effort not to crumple it, but not too much; the chances of it being anything but related to Mandy are very slim. He wants to slam his office door on the way out, but there are still a couple of staffers in his bullpen, and he promised Donna in their second month in office to stop slamming doors when people are working.

"Heading out?"

Josh jumps, literally jumps, and narrowly misses whacking his head on a door frame. "No, just taking my backpack for a walk to my car."

CJ snorts. "Okay, stupid question. Did you see Mandy yet?"

"Yes." He doesn't even try to modulate his tone, and the press secretary raises an eyebrow at him.

"Snippy much? God. She's not the first ex you've ever worked with. Toby said you never put up a fight with anyone in the past that he's heard of."

"Normally I'd yell at you for having Toby as a source since he never worked with me when I had exes on staff, but he happens to be correct this time."

CJ waves a polite goodbye to the security officer stationed by the door even as she replies verbally to Josh. "So what makes Mandy different?"

The black folder is burning a hole in his backpack, or at least burning a hole in his brain. "Forget it."

"She's good at her job."

"Yes."

"She's exactly as professional as we all are."

"Almost."

"The President and Leo both like her."

"Only because they don't know."

CJ grabs his arm and drags him to a stop. "Don't know what?"

Shit. He can't believe he just said that out loud. "Uh. They don't know her, I meant. Because ... because she's always nicer around them." She's always nicer - okay, less evil, but not nice - around any other people.

"I don't believe you," CJ announces after a moment. "I mean, I believe that what you said is true, but we both know it isn't what you originally meant. Whatever it is, just tell me know if it's going to blow up in our faces so I can start preparing a press response."

And just like that, something snaps in Josh. He jerks his arm out of her grasp and walks away as quickly as he can. They were almost at CJ's Mustang anyway, so he doesn't bother to feel bad for leaving her alone in a dark parking lot. He's just done with people he almost considers family skipping over him and going straight to their jobs. Work oriented is fine, it's usually something he'd call great, but not at his expense.

There's only one person who can help him.

iHe breezes into the office three days later, mid-afternoon, fresh from the airplane, a handful of folders tucked under his arm and a newspaper more crumpled than folded in his hand. "Who missed me the most?" he asks loudly with a grin on his face.

"You were gone?" Toby replies, the barest quirk of an eyebrow revealing his humor.

"Didn't you notice how few times my name was shouted?" Donna asks the older man. "Let me deal with him real quick, and I'll get you that research in ... two hours?"

"Morning is fine." Toby nods at Josh before striding off to his own office.

"What, I leave the state for a few days and he's already trying to steal you away from me? Does he know you don't bring coffee?" Josh drops the folders under his arm on her desk. "The two on top are urgent, but the rest can wait until you research whatever for Toby. Hey, what are you researching for him?"

"How to deal with an annoying boss who demands coffee," she shoots back.

Josh smirks. "Glad to help. Hey, at the end of the day, hang back, okay? I need to talk to you in my office when I'm done for the day."

"Is this about using colored folders again?" Donna asks, sparing the briefest glance at Josh. "I keep telling you they're better. You're already more efficient and getting more work done in a day since I made you try them out, so take it up with YOUR bosses; they're both on my side for this one."

Josh is startled when her hand lands lightly on his forearm, squeezes, and rests there, hidden behind a very tall and very colorful stack of folders. Donna continues talking about the folders, not that Josh is listening too closely since they both know her tirade is a ruse. The only thought in his head is "thank God for Donna, the best and truest friend I'll ever have."/i

He knows it's a bad idea, but he doesn't find himself caring as he parks in a luckily open spot at Donna's building. CJ can just totally suck it, he thinks to himself, and she's good enough at her job that the President won't have to suck it, though Josh is kind of ambivalent on that front too. And Leo. Leo can suck it and then suck it again.

But Donna should never have to suck it, so he gathers his backpack and a small stack of additional folders. He'll leave the folders with her, and then there's their cover established. They don't often work in her apartment, but it's not unheard of, so her sucking should be prevented.

She answers the door immediately, almost as though she knew he would be coming, which both furthers their cover and makes him wonder if she did know.

"Hey," he says to her as she steps to the side to let him in. "So the thing for tomorrow, we need—"

"My curtains are already closed for the night," she interrupts.

"I need help," he says, certain both that she knows this and that she won't help him until he admits it. It's easier on both of them if he offers the admission on his own power.

The smile on her face turns sad. "I know."

"I just ... you and Mom are the only people I really..." He trails off, not sure quite how to end that sentence.

"Are you seeing her again?"

Josh feels his whole body flinch away from her at the thought. "God, no. But it didn't ... Your curtains are closed?"

"That's what I said, and I wouldn't lie about that."

He can't help but wonder what she would lie about, but he wonders while he unbuttons his shirt, tosses it negligently over the arm of the couch, pulls his undershirt over his head, and drops it on top of his shirt. "I—" He can't finish the thought.

But it's okay, because Donna presses a cool hand gently to the mark. "Already?"

He nods mutely.

"Do you want to tell Leo or the President?"

He drops his head, huffs a silent laugh, and looks up at her through his eyelashes.

"So it's you and me against the world," she quips, and it brings a quirk of a smile to his face.

"Business as usual," he replies, and her own smile answers. "I didn't know where else to go."

Donna slides her hand up to his shoulder, and he's suddenly very aware of his partial nudity. "You come to me. Josh, you always come to me. And I go to you. Nothing else, and nobody else, matters."

"Now what?"

She squeezes his shoulder. "That's not how you usually phrase that."

The smile slides off his face. "Yeah." He doesn't rephrase, but her eyes sharpen with understanding.

"Now we make a plan. Codes between us. Excuses to use. I need to take notes on the meeting, for example. Toby needs your input on something right away so she has to leave. A new open door policy to keep her from feeling alone even if I can't be in there. Now is planning. Tonight is planning. Tomorrow we start testing the plan."

"And—"

Donna shakes her head with a small, secretive smile. "You leave the end game to me, Josh. I need you to trust me and stay out of it."

"I trust you," he answers immediately. "I don't want her to hurt you, too."

"She may, at first, but she will soon learn not to," Donna answers slowly. "I will go to Leo if I have to. Only," she amends quickly, "for things she does or says to me."

Josh breathes deeply, holds it, and releases it slowly. "I trust you," he repeats.

"Operation Evict the Abuser?"

He grins. "Operation Evict the Abuser."

Her hands slides from his shoulder down his chest and circles the mark with the lightest touch he's ever felt. "Donna—"

"Shh."

Well. Silenced, there's only one way he can think to express himself. He takes her hand gently, kisses the palm, and returns it to its new home on his chest.

And then his eyes grow wide in shock at his own actions. "Uh—"

"Shh." Donna reaches up with her other hand and covers his eyes. He closes them obediently, leaves them closed even when that hand leaves his face to join its counterpart on his chest.

"I—"

"Good lord, is there any way to shut you up?" Donna complains teasingly.

"I can think of one," he shoots back with a leer, immediately feeling his face redden at the implication and their proximity. Whatever else he's thinking and feeling, it's probably a bad time to—

To be kissed.

Well, nothing to do now but kiss her back and hope Operation Seduce Donna isn't counterindicated with Operation Evict the Abuser.

Note:

I have always seen Mandy's casual violence against Josh as symptomatic of the larger violence written here. Remember, any violence is unacceptable. I don't care how long you've known someone or what kind of relationship you have, hitting someone the way Mandy does on-screen is NOT OKAY. Mandy is abusive trash. All abusers are trash. If you're in an abusive situation, please find a way out. Most areas have shelters and helping hands. Please reach out.