A Silence Full of Sound [hiatus]

7.3 - Ria: The Meeting

"You know, or could probably guess, that things have not been easy around here for a few months."

"Yes, sir."

"And Josh isn't the only one who has been dealing with PTSD."

There was a long pause before she replied, "Yes, sir."

"I wanted to stress how important confidentiality is here and how important my staff is to the workings of this administration."

"I understand. I do, but you're not just talking about your staff, are you?"

He fiddled with a golden letter opener that sat on his desk. The amber light glinted from it and shone in his eyes for the briefest of moments. She kept her gaze leveled at him, even as he looked away to hide the faint glimmer of shame in his expression.

"No, I am not."

It was a little difficult to read his lips from that angle, but she could guess what he was saying by his expression and the way he kept fiddling with the letter opener.

So, she pressed on. "What do you want to talk about?" She murmured softly.

Leo kept his gaze down at the table. Even though she couldn't see into his eyes, she knew that faint glimmer of shame fanned into something bigger. This was something he didn't want anyone to know about, least of all the President and the people he worked with. The stigma surrounding men and mental health was something she was acutely aware of. When he leveled his own gaze back on hers, she could see the uncertainty, the pain, the fear—this was something he understood and was aware of. So, she waited. She was nothing, if not patient. She could tell that what he needed was someone who didn't know him. He needed someone who would hold no judgments against him if he were to be honest about what he was feeling.

"I flew F-105s for the Air Force in 'Nam," Leo began, sitting back in his chair and linking his fingers on his stomach. "I know the sound of gunshots."

The pose was a relaxed one, a stark difference from the pain and uncertainty earlier. It confused her. Her eyes narrowed as she considered him and watched him as he spoke. For all intents and purposes, he seemed composed and poised. He was the powerful man she'd seen on the television and the powerful man she'd seen earlier in this very office, but his eyes still held the pain. His gaze far off like he was no longer there in the office, but rather a million miles away. It was somewhere she couldn't follow.

"You hear enough of them... they become like second nature. You hear them in everything."

"Cars backfiring, doors slamming, fireworks. To list a few."

He nodded slowly. "It's painful, but eventually you get used to it. You pick yourself up and keep going forward."

"Only...you can't keep going this time."

He swallowed and her gaze flicked to his neck briefly. "No. Not this time."

"Was it because Josh was the one seriously injured?"

She knew the President had been hit too. It was front and center on the news cycle for a week and no one could escape it. She saw an influx of people who'd come to her little private practice because they were scared something like that would happen there too. A few people came directly from Rosslyn. She worked herself to the bone trying to help everyone. She was still reeling from the number of nightmares she'd heard, some in gory detail. It was what she took home with her. She could never compartmentalize everything she heard for any number of reasons. Her own tragic story was too difficult to reconcile.

"I watched him grow up. From afar, mostly. I knew his father, Noah. We were friends until he died during the primary three and a half years ago."

She made a quick mental note to do some research about Noah Lyman. Maybe the information could help her understand Josh a little bit better. She had the feeling that talking to him on a weekly basis would probably yield very little, especially about his family.