"Sam. Let's go."

He's looking at his hands. They are red. Soaked with warm stickiness.

Blood. On his hands.

He has seen plenty of blood before. There's the time he cut himself with a Swiss army knife while sailing, or that time he tripped and hit his head on the coffee table. Minor accidents, mostly. Sometimes he gets accident-prone. Half a pint of blood, half a dozen stitches. Nothing too hard to fix.

Did he cut himself again? He watches as a droplet slowly trickles its way down his finger, then his palm, and onto his cuff. A crimson blotch on the bleached white fabric like a poppy in a field of snow.

It isn't his. It's Josh's. Josh's blood.

Shouldn't it be inside Josh then? Why is it on his hands?

He was holding Josh's hands, for that couple of seconds before the paramedics pushed him away. Josh's hands were bloody.

Paramedics?

Josh was shot. They were being shot at, and Josh was shot.

But that's wrong. Josh was all the way in the back of the pack, barely out of the building, while he and CJ and Charlie were right beside the President in open air. How did Josh get shot? Did the attackers think they'd get bonus points for the difficulty of their targets? Did they think it was all a game? They have never seen their best friends lying on the ground with holes in their chests. Never seen the fear and the pain the confusion and the anguish in their eyes. Never seen the blood on his shirt on his hands and everywhere.

He couldn't do anything for Josh, except holding his hands for two and a half seconds.

He didn't do anything for Josh.

He can't save everyone.

He pushed CJ down. She hit her head, but she didn't get shot. He saved her. He even picked up her necklace.

She was right beside him. Josh was in the back by himself.

He didn't even look for Josh after the shooting ended.

He was helping CJ. He was trying to get a grip on the situation.

His best friend was sitting on the pavement while the life bled out of him, all alone, and he was not even looking for him.

Josh's blood is heavy on his hands. His hands are shaking under its weight.

Toby found Josh.

Toby did. He didn't, but Toby did.

"Sam!"

Toby is shouting.

They're taking Josh to GW. He and Toby are going to follow the ambulance.

But he's standing here talking to himself looking at his hands.

"Sam! What the hell are you waiting for? Get into the car!"

He has to pull himself together.

He can't do it.

He doesn't have a choice.

They need him. He can't afford to come unravelled. Not tonight.

Josh needs him.

"Yeah. I'm coming."

He'll be there.