Eight Miles High
by
Brenda

Title: Eight Miles High
Author: Brenda
Fandom: The West Wing
Category: Hurt-Comfort
Rating: PG
Season: The West Wing S2
Spoilers: Post Noël.
Summary: Despite Josh’s advice, Sam Seaborn decides to drive back to Washington DC through a snowstorm. When the bad weather causes a horrific pile up on the freeway, his friends at the White House wait to discover if Sam is among the living or the dead.
Characters: Sam Seaborn, Josh Lyman, Toby Ziegler, C.J. Cregg, Leo McGarry, President Jed Bartlet, Dr. Abigail Bartlet.

Josh Lyman chewed his lip as he watched the news strip crawl across the bottom of the TV screen announcing that Dulles Airport had been closed. A snow and sleet storm coming up the coast from the south had taken an unexpected turn inland and was now pelting the DC area. To a Connecticut boy, this was a day at the beach; but the District of Columbia tended to become quickly paralyzed if snow became measurable, like more than a half inch. Closing down Dulles was going to screw up Sam's travel plans in a big way. He was flying in on the redeye from Los Angeles and had no doubt been diverted to some other airport not in DC, which meant he was going to be scrambling to find a way to get back to the White House. Josh knew Sam wasn't about to miss a meeting he'd been working toward for three months.

Josh had just decided to give Sam's cell phone a try when his own cell rang. He grinned at the caller ID and answered: "Hey there, buddy. Where are you?"

"In Baltimore." Sam sounded harried, and there was a lot of background noise where he was.

"BWI's still open?"

"For the moment. They think the worst of the storm is going to stay south and maybe head back out to sea. There's something confusing going on with...I don't know, wind patterns or low pressures or something. I'm not very clear on the whole thing. All I know is that they've diverted practically every flight that was headed south into this airport."

"Yeah, well, you're lucky you're not here. DC's a mess and getting messier. You know how things get when it snows around here." Josh walked slowly around his office as he talked, feeling more relaxed now that he knew Sam was safely on the ground and probably heading for a hotel room. "So, what's the plan?"

"The plan is... opps..." Josh heard the phone drop and then Sam was back on, but he was apparently talking to someone else. "Yes, whatever you've got. That's it? Well, then, yes, I think that should be fine."

"Sam, where are you exactly?"

"I am exactly at the last car rental agency at BWI that actually has cars to rent."

"And why," Josh asked slowly and carefully, "are you there?"

"Because that's where they rent you the cars to drive, Josh."

Josh ran a hand through his hair and managed to resist grabbing a handful and pulling it. "Sam, please tell me you're not planning to drive here from Baltimore?"

"Seems to be the only option at the moment, Josh."

"What about public transport? Aren't there trains...?" Surely there must be trains?

"Shut down. Nothing's going south."

"Okay, so doesn't that tell you something?"

"Josh, it's a forty minute drive to Washington."

This time Josh did yank some hair. "It's a forty minute drive on a sunny day in June at ten o'clock in the morning," he all but shouted. "Not in a snowstorm during morning rush hour!"

There was a pause, then Sam asked in a hurt voice, "Why are you yelling at me?"

"I'm not yelling!" he yelled. Then immediately he closed his eyes for a moment and continued in a more reasonable tone: "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to yell. No, wait, you know what? I did mean to yell, because this is a really, really stupid idea, and you know you can't drive in the snow."

"What makes you think I can't drive in the snow?"

"Because, California boy, you can't. You never even learned to drive properly in the rain."

"Contrary to what the song may say, Josh, it really does rain in southern California, and besides which, I went to Princeton, remember?"

Josh blinked a few times, trying to fit that apparent non sequitur into the conversation they'd just been having. "Okay. But unless they offered a course called Driving in Snow for Dummies..."

"Princeton is in New Jersey," Sam explained patiently, "where it does snow and rain. As it does in New York, where I also lived." There was the sound of more rustling and then Sam asking someone, "And that's the only car you have left? You're sure you don't have anything a little more...recent?"

"What's going on, Sam?" Josh demanded.

"Apparently I've just rented literally the last rental car at BWI," Sam whispered. "I don't want to say that too loudly because there's a line behind me and some of these people look desperate enough to mug me for the keys on the way out."

Josh was striding around the office faster now. "Don't let them give you a piece of junk. Make sure the heater works and the defroster and the windshield wipers --"

"I will check everything out before I even leave the parking lot," Sam soothed. "Josh, it'll be fine. I'll take I-95 South to the Baltimore/Washington Parkway and then get on Route 50 West. It's a straight shot from there to the White House."

Josh put his back to the wall and pressed against it, wishing this stupid exercise really did relieve stress. He supposed he should be grateful at least Sam wouldn't be trying to navigate by the North Star. "I want to go on record as saying this is a monumentally stupid idea."

"So noted."

"You're just coming back here because of that meeting, aren't you?"

"It's a very important meeting, Josh. You know that."

"I can take the meeting for you."

"No, Josh," Sam said firmly, "you can't."

"Hey, I know about trees...and stuff."

Sam's sigh blasted through the phone. "Josh, I've worked three months to get to this point with Robertson and Baylor. If you walk into that meeting and announce you know 'about trees and stuff' it'll set back the reforestation project six months." There was a pause. "You're standing against a wall, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"You're stressed out about something."

Josh gently bumped the back of his head against the wall a few times. "Just the usual stuff." He rubbed his forehead and said quietly, "Sam, just be careful, okay?"

Sam sounded surprised. "I'm always careful."

"Yeah, I know, but be extra careful, all right? Just go slowly and don't get too close to the car in front of you and make sure you check the tires too. If they don't have enough tread on them don't you even think about leaving the parking lot. And you probably didn't even sleep on the plane, did you? Better get some coffee to take with you. And keep the radio on so you can hear the traffic reports, and --"

"Josh."

"Yeah?"

"I'm leaving now. I'm going out to get in my car, and I'll do everything you've said, and I'll see you in about forty-five minutes, okay?"

Josh shot away from the wall. "Forty-five minutes? Sam, it'll take you forty-five minutes just to clean the car off and get all the ice off the windows..." He heard the snicker over the phone. "You're playing with me, aren't you?"

"Like a cat toy," Sam agreed. "Let Toby know what's going on, okay? And you should go to the cafeteria and get a bagel. You know that helps when you're stressed."

Josh pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, you're right." He forced himself to keep his voice light. "I'll see you when you get here. Drive carefully."

"Will do."

And then he was gone. Josh sighed and flipped his phone closed just as Toby poked his head in the door. "Have you heard from Sam?"

"Just talked to him."

"Where in the hell is he?" Toby demanded, coming into the office. "They've closed Dulles and Reagan."

"He's in Baltimore, renting a car to drive here."

Toby stared at him as if he'd grown another head, then thundered, "Why did you let him do that? You know he can't drive in snow."

"Why did I let him? Like there was anything I could have done about it from here."

"He listens to you!"

"Well, he didn't listen to me this time," Josh snapped irritably. They glared at each other for a long moment and then Josh abruptly turned away and headed for the door, muttering, "I need a bagel. I need a really big bagel."

"You need a bagel?"

"It's either that or I stand against a wall until Sam gets here."

The bagel didn't really help this time. But Josh had enough work on his desk and enough phone calls to make to keep himself from looking at his watch every five minutes. He'd managed to lose himself in a position paper about incentives for soybean growers when Toby burst into his office.

"Turn on the TV," he ordered.

Josh blinked. "What?"

"Turn on the damn TV." Toby strode over to the set and flicked it on himself. He punched the buttons viciously until he got the channel he wanted. "There."

Josh got slowly to his feet as the images on the TV screen slowly sank in. A helicopter was giving an overview of a horrific pile-up on a highway. There were cars everywhere, some of them flipped over onto their roofs, some smashed between other cars, some, he noted sickly, crushed beneath massive tractor trailers which had either rolled over or apparently driven right into them. "What the hell...?" he breathed.

"Black ice," Toby said tersely.

"Where is this?"

Toby looked at him and Josh dropped back into his chair as his legs suddenly gave way. "Not I-95 South?" he whispered, surprised he could even get the words out of his constricted throat.

"About fifteen miles outside of Baltimore." Toby's voice sounded hoarse and raw.

Josh stared at him for a moment, then abruptly grabbed for his phone. "I'll call Sam --"

"I already tried."

The phone dropped back into the cradle from his nerveless fingers.

"No answer."

Josh licked his lips, glancing at the flashing lights of ambulances and police cars on the screen of his TV. "He must have turned it off."

"Sam doesn't turn off his cell."

Josh could feel the blood pounding in his ears. "So he forgot to charge it overnight," he countered in an overly loud voice, "and the battery's dead."

"The sun would forget to rise before Sam would forget to charge his cell phone and you know it."

Josh couldn't tear his gaze away from the TV. It truly was like watching a train wreck, except this wreck consisted of at least a hundred automobiles of all shapes, sizes and colors; and dotting the road were blankets covering victims who hadn't survived the encounter. "Okay." Josh's voice threatened to break, but he steadied it with an effort. "I will concede that Sam may be stuck in the traffic back-up from hell right now --"

"If Sam were stuck in traffic, what's the first thing he would do?"

Josh glared at Toby, hating him in that moment for the way he was saying things that should never be said and forcing Josh to think thoughts he should never ever have to think. Like, if Sam were stuck in traffic right now, the first thing he would do would be to call them and let them know because his meeting with Robertson and Baylor would be on his mind. And that there were people lying dead on a frozen highway, and Sam might be one of them.

"No," he said abruptly, smashing his hand flat on the desk. "I'm not going to let you do this, Toby. You are not going to tell me Sam might be under one of those blankets."

Toby caught his breath as if someone had just punched him in the gut. "I'm not saying that," he answered, his voice carefully level. "And don't you say it either. You don't say it and you don't think it." He paused to swallow. "All I'm saying is I think Sam may be in trouble."

Trouble. Josh's gaze traveled again to the TV screen where the horror continued to play out in front of them. Oh god, Sam. Don't do this to me. Please, don't do this to me. You are not allowed to do this to me. "We need to do something." Josh barely recognized his own voice, it was so raw, so filled with pain. "We just can't -- we can't just sit here and watch this like it's something happening to someone else!"

Toby straightened abruptly. "I'm going to talk to Leo."

"Leo. Good." Josh nodded in immediate agreement. His own brain seemed to have stopped working, perhaps it had even frozen, shriveled up and died for all he knew, but Leo would think of something.

"We're the goddamned White House," Toby ground out, turning away. "We have to be able to do something."

But it turned out there was very little the White House could do. The accident scene was in Maryland, and the State and County officials and law enforcement agencies in that jurisdiction had closed down the area. The priority was getting rescue units to the scene and getting victims to hospitals, and they had no time to pander to a White House senior official who was trying to pressure them over the phone. They would have to wait like hundreds of others to find out if a family member or a friend had been caught up in the carnage.

By unspoken agreement no one wanted to try to pull Josh away from the TV, so Leo had called an impromptu meeting in Josh's office. There wasn't much they could do, he told them, except wait, and the President wanted to be kept informed of any developments. CJ cautiously floated the idea of trying to use some of her press contacts to see if she could get any information, but Josh was the one who shook his head. "It's bound to leak," he said, "and I don't want Sam's parents hearing it on the news." He raised his head and frowned at them all. "Besides, you're all talking like you know Sam's really caught in that mess and something's wrong, and you don't know that for a fact at all." He hadn't realized how much his voice was raised in anger until silence settled in after his outburst, and he muttered, "Sorry." He ignored the looks the others exchanged over his head, but he was grateful for the weight of Leo's warm hand on his shoulder as he quietly dismissed the meeting.

He noticed Toby was still clutching his cell phone as went out the door and muttered to the world at large that he would be in his office. Josh's own cell phone lay on the desk in front of him, ready to announce Sam's next call. Josh didn't realize he wasn't alone until CJ rested a hip in his desk. "You want to come back to my office for a while?" she asked softly.

He shook his head. "I think I'll just stay here."

She tried again: "How about coming with me to get something to eat?"

He smiled faintly. "No, thanks. Sam told me to get a bagel, and I did. I'm good."

CJ was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. But I'll be in my office if you change your mind." She rubbed his arm comfortingly, then turned to leave, but hesitated in the doorway and turned back. "I'm sure he's okay," she said firmly. "Because if he's not, I'll kill him."

That got a reluctant grin out of Josh, but it faded as soon as CJ was gone, and he went back to staring at the TV screen and the continuing coverage of what the news reporters were calling the most horrific traffic accident in Maryland's history.

Two hours later, Josh's stomach was churning and his head felt as if it were in a vise, a sure sign that his blood pressure was climbing. Two hours and a dozen unanswered calls to Sam's cell, and even he could no longer deny what was right in front of him. Toby had wandered in and out of his office like a man lost, and CJ had stopped in to bring coffee twice and try to coax his gaze away from the TV screen without success. Suddenly Josh needed to get out of his office and away from the pictures of carnage on TV. Standing up, he strode out of his office. He didn't even know where he was going until he found himself standing in the doorway of Sam's office.

Toby and CJ were already there, sitting in the visitors' chairs. Toby was bouncing a ball listlessly against the window between his office and Sam's. "He always comes when I do this," Toby said, not looking around at Josh. "It's like a Pavlovian response with him. I had a bell for a while, but it stopped working. I think the assistants did something to it. So now I use the ball."

"Yeah, I know," Josh said softly, smiling at the memories of Sam patiently getting up out of his chair and obediently going into Toby's office when the ball thudded against the glass. He stood in the doorway and looked around Sam's office seeing the shelves of thick law books and the 'Don't Tread On Me' flag that Josh always thought was the most Sam-like thing in the office, even more so than the law books. He stepped inside the office and was immediately overwhelmed by both a sense of comfort and a sharp sense of loss and emptiness that literally made him catch his breath.

"Are you okay?" CJ asked immediately.

Josh waved a hand. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just..." He took another, shakier breath, "I can't believe this is happening."

Toby stared at the ball in his hand, his knuckles white where he was squeezing it. For once, he had no words.

Josh felt the pull back to his TV, back to the news report where he might get information, where he kept hoping he might catch a glimpse of Sam standing, unhurt, trying to borrow a cell phone to make a call. He was turning to leave when he heard Ginger's gasp from behind him.

"Sam! Oh my god, what happened to you?"

It was like something out of a Three Stooges movie as Josh, Toby and CJ all tried to get out of the office door at the same time. Josh finally squeezed through and the other two tumbled out behind him, then stopped short as they gaped at the sight in front of them.

Sam was standing there in the Communications Bullpen with a large bandage over his left eye, a dark bruise on his left cheek, and his left arm in a sling. Holding him firmly but carefully by the right arm was a large, white-haired man in a Stetson hat and cowboy boots.

"Sam!" Josh rushed over to him and took in the bandage and sling. "What --?" Belatedly, he blinked at the man by his side. "Congressman Stefford?" Then he turned his attention back to Sam. "What the hell happened?"

Sam beamed at him, his whole face lighting up. "Josh! You're back. Did you have a good trip?"

"What?"

Congressman Stefford had served his Texas district for twenty-six years in Congress. He was an old school Republican who routinely gave the President and his staffers a hard time via the committees he chaired. He was a large bear of a man with a booming voice, and the three staffers blinked as he patted Sam gently on the arm. "Maybe I'd better tell this story, Sam."

Sam nodded obediently. "Okay."

"He's all right," the Congressman assured them. "Nothing that won't heal. I was waiting for my car at BWI airport when I heard a thump and an 'ow' and I knew --"

"--it must be Sam Seaborn," the rest of them chimed in resignedly.

"And I was right. I found the President's Deputy Communications Director flat on his back on the asphalt. He'd slipped on the ice."

"I fell down," Sam told them solemnly.

CJ gently touched the bruise on his cheek and clucked sympathetically. "I can see that, Spanky."

"The airport sent out paramedics, but Sam here refused to go off in an ambulance. He probably could have gotten away with just the sling and a bandage, but then his back seized up. Apparently he twisted it as he fell and he was in some pretty bad pain. There was no way he was going to be able to drive himself back to DC like that, so I offered to take him to the nearest emergency room. After stitching him up and making sure he hadn't broken anything, the ER doctor gave him some--"

"Muscle relaxers," Josh groaned. CJ bit her lip and Toby rolled his eyes.

Stefford grinned wryly, "I gathered after about fifteen minutes that muscle relaxers and Sam Seaborn don't mix particularly well."

"Sends our Sam off into la-la land with an express ticket," CJ agreed, smoothing Sam's disheveled hair back into place.

"He didn't say anything when the doctor gave him the pills."

"That's because he never remembers what happens when he takes them," Josh told him, grinning fondly at Sam who was smiling happily at him. Sam stoned on muscle relaxers was at the same time unbelievably cute and totally terrifying. He never wanted to live through another Omaha episode again.

Toby added darkly, "And he never believes us when we tell him what he's done."

Stefford chuckled. "He was very well behaved on the drive back, weren't you, Sam?"

At the sound of his name, Sam looked over at the Congressman and blinked owlishly. "Congressman Stefford? When did you get here?"

"I just got in from Baltimore, Sam," the other man said affably.

Sam nodded gravely. "So did I."

It was going to be a long day. "I can't thank you enough for bringing Sam back with you, Congressman," Josh said sincerely. "We were all worried when he was so late."

"I didn't know you were expecting him or I would have called, Josh. I'm sorry about that. You were probably trying to call him, but what's left of his cell phone is in his jacket pocket. I'm afraid it was a casualty of his fall. As for bringing him back, hell, I couldn't have left him lying there on the asphalt, could I? Besides, if it hadn't been for Sam and making that stop at the ER, we would have been in the middle of that mess on I-95. Because of the delay, the road was closed and we took a detour." The big man shrugged. "I believe everything happens for a reason, and that's why I happened to be standing where I was when Sam here took his spill." Stefford reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a cigar. "Sam, I understand you enjoy a good cigar. You keep this for later, okay? I guarantee you, it's a damn fine smoke."

Sam's face lit up and he reached for the cigar, only to have Josh snatch it first. "I'd better hold onto this for now." He slipped it into his pocket. "We don't want him playing with matches in his condition."

Stefford laughed his booming laugh. "Right you are. You'd better hold onto him too. He's a little unsteady on his feet." Josh took Stefford's place as the Congressman moved away. "He's got a hematoma the size of a goose egg on his arm. He needs to keep it elevated and apply ice. He's got a couple of stitches under that bandage on his forehead, and he's supposed to see his regular doctor in a week." The man rattled off Sam's injuries and treatment in such a matter-of-fact way that Josh recalled he had something like six sons and fourteen grandchildren. The man had obviously been through plenty of injuries with his children. "You all take care of this boy, you hear?"

"We will," Toby told him. "Thank you again, Congressman."

Stefford walked away, waving a hand in acknowledgement. They waited until he was out of earshot until Toby reminded Josh, "And that's the man who chewed you up and spat you out in tiny little pieces the last time you crossed swords."

"Next time I'll take Sam with me." He reached up and carefully placed two fingers on Sam's jaw, bringing his head around until he was looking at Josh. "Hey, buddy, how are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling good, really good," Sam told him seriously.

"I'll bet you are."

There was sudden movement around them as people got to their feet, and Josh carefully turned Sam around as the President strode through the Bullpen, Leo right behind him. "I see the prodigal has returned. It's a good thing we have such an efficient grapevine around here, or I wouldn't have known Sam was back."

"Sorry, Mr. President," the three staffers muttered guiltily.

"Oh, that's all right. It looks like you had your hands full. Sam, how are you?"

"I'm feeling good, really good, sir," Sam answered earnestly. "How was your trip?"

As the President hesitated, Josh murmured, "He slipped on the ice, hurt his back. Muscle relaxers."

Bartlet's face cleared. "Ah." He patted Sam gently on the arm. "My trip wasn't nearly as good as the one you're on, my friend. I assume someone is taking him home," he added in an undertone.

"Yes, sir," Josh answered.

"And will be staying with him," Bartlet pressed, still smiling reassuringly at Sam. "We don't want repeat of the Omaha incident."

"Good lord, no," Leo agreed with feeling. "Who knew he could even find the interstate let alone walk there?"

"You hear that, Sam?" The President shook his index finger at him. "No playing in traffic." He looked sideways at Josh. "You have to keep your eyes on them all the time, you know. It only takes a minute for them to slip away and run out into the middle of the street."

"Yes, sir. I'll stay with him until he sleeps it off." Josh still occasionally had nightmares about Sam and I-80 in Omaha.

"'Good man. Sam, it's good to have you back, son. We were worried about you." He asked the three of them, "By the way, how did he get back?"

"Congressman Stefford brought him back," Toby told him. "He was there when Sam fell, and he said he couldn't just leave him there."

"Stefford? Really." He cocked his head at Joss. "You do know if it had been you, he would just left you there."

"Yes, sir, I think that's a given."

Sam had raised his head and was staring at an overhead light with intense concentration. "If you can get him out of the White House without running into any reporters, it would be appreciated."

"Yes, sir."

After the President and Leo left Josh gently tugged Sam in the direction of his office. "Come on, Sam, let's get you home."

"Wait, wait." Sam planted his feet with surprising firmness and reached into his coat pocket, bringing out a handful a crumpled papers which he held out to Toby like an offering. "I wrote a speech."

Toby slowly accepted the pile of papers. "You...wrote a speech."

Sam nodded and kept nodding until CJ took pity on him and put a hand under his chin to stop him. "For the thing. Next week. You know. The thing."

"Oh, the speech for the thing. I see." Toby smoothed one of the pages and ran his gaze over it. Even from where he was standing Josh could see it wasn't Sam's usual neat handwriting. Instead it was large and sloppy and written at a definite tilt on the page. But there were certainly lots of pages, and there was a gleam of unholy glee in Toby's eyes that didn't bode well for Sam. "That's great, Sam. This looks like a very special speech. I'll tell you what, when you get back tomorrow, we'll go over this together, okay?"

"That's just mean," CJ hissed at him. Then she added, "Can I watch?"

"Are you kidding?" Toby murmured, still smiling at Sam, "I may sell tickets."

It was a moment of banter so normal that Josh almost forgot that up until a few minutes ago he thought he'd lost his best friend forever to a horrific pile-up on an interstate, thought that Sam was one of the bodies under a blanket on a frozen highway. It was as if Toby and CJ both came to that realization at the same time too because Toby's broad grin slowly faded and CJ suddenly put her arms around Sam and pulled him into a tight hug.

Josh heard her whisper, "I'm so glad you're okay, Sam."

From what he could see of Sam's expression over CJ's shoulder, Sam looked confused, but he could obviously sense her distress because he patted her gently on the back. "I'm glad you're okay too, CJ."

She spluttered into his hair, then pulled back, her eyes suspiciously bright. "Oh my little Samshine," she grinned. "You are so cute when you're stoned."

"Hey, Boy Wonder." CJ moved aside for Toby, and he put a hand on the back of Sam's neck and squeezed gently. "Josh is going to take you home so you can sleep it off, and then I'll see you in here tomorrow if you're up to it, okay?"

Sam looked at him with wide eyes. "And we'll go over my speech," he said, a little anxiously.

This time Toby's smile was fond. "Yeah," he said softly, "we'll go over your speech." He gave CJ a stern look. "If one reporter sees Sam on his way out of here, I'm blaming you."

"What else is new?" CJ pressed a kiss into Sam's hair and went on her way.

As Toby passed Josh on his way back to his office he ordered, "Call me if you need me, but he's not to be left alone until he's back to normal. I still have nightmares about Omaha."

"You and me both." Josh steered Sam in the direction of his office. "Come on, buddy, we'll get my coat and then we'll get you home."

"Okay," Sam said placidly.

"Why can't he be that obedient when he's normal?" Toby called from his office.

Inside his office Josh kept one hand on Sam as he reached for his coat, then froze as he saw the TV which was still broadcasting scenes from the pile-up. "Oh, man," he breathed, and engulfed Sam in a sudden, hard bear hug. He heard a soft 'offf' from Sam, but almost immediately his friend wrapped his good arm around Josh and hugged back. Even stoned, Sam's first reaction was to comfort his friends even if he didn't know what was going on. "You gotta stop scaring me like this, Sam," he whispered hoarsely. "Never, ever scare me like this again, okay?"

"I'm sorry, Josh," Sam said in a small voice.

Josh sighed. "It wasn't your fault, Sam. Well, some of it was, but that's a discussion for another day." He loosened his hold and stepped back so he could get a good look at his friend. With the bandage on his forehead, bruise on his cheek and dark smudges under his eyes he looked particularly young and vulnerable, and Josh decided a very expensive bottle of Scotch was the least he could do for Congressman Stefford.

He grabbed his coat and patted Sam gently on the shoulder. "Home," he told him, "and ice for that arm and lots of sleep for you, my friend. And when you're back to normal, we're going to enroll you in the Josh Lyman School of Winter Driving just in case you decide you need to drive in snow again."

"Okay," Sam agreed with an endearing smile.

As Josh steered him to the door, he turned off the TV. His heart went out to the people in that accident and the friends and families waiting to hear about loved ones, but he was very grateful he wasn't one of them.

*fin*

DISCLAIMER: The West Wing and its characters are the property of Aaron Sorkin and NBC. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.