The already and not yet

Writer's Block: blushes

2008-02-27T21:57:02Z

What is the most common compliment you receive?

"i like your sleeves, they're real big."

New Story

2008-02-04T21:07:28Z

Hey guys - I wrote something again. It's just a one-shot drabble thingy. Once again, it didn't come out the way I had in mind and not in a good way. But I wrote it quickly and have no patience for waiting until the right way to express the idea i had comes along. So there.

The kid hasn’t had the best life, but he certainly hasn’t had the worst life either. He definitely hasn’t had nearly enough garbage thrown at him to justify the amount of whining he’s done over the 6 + years that I’ve known him. And I do know him. We all do. He’s an open book and always has been. There are no skeletons in his closet. He could never use the “what do you know about my life?!” card with me, or anyone else for that matter.

I don’t keep my nightmare of a childhood secret. In fact, I have little problem mentioning it in casual conversation. Granted, that’s really the only way I feel comfortable sharing that part of crap-hole of a life, but that’s another matter altogether. My point is, I have seen and experienced some of the most horrific things a person could experience. I don’t cry about it. I don’t seek out the company of others with similarly dark memories to relive and weep about. Sometimes I just get so angry when I see people like Newbie sulking in corners or getting stupid, fleeting, pained looks on their faces for no reason, or trying to get everyone within a 2 mile radius to hug them and comfort them. What the hell does he know about pain and fear?

Not one fucking thing.

I should be glad for him…that he doesn’t know about those things. And if I’m honest with myself, most of the time I am. Most of the time there is a part of me hiding beneath my rants and glares that is glad that he hasn’t been irreversibly damaged. Most of the time I am glad that he isn’t me and that there is still someone left in the world with no air of mystery or guile about them. He gives the damn world hope, I guess….the little pansy.

Today is not one of those days.

Today I watch him smile at me and try to call me Perry and I want to breathe fire. I watch him brush off my vicious rants as though I was kidding – which I clearly am not. Today, I am feeling far more sensitive than I would admit to anyone. Maybe it’s because of the story I heard on the news last night when I got home from a long, hard day at the hospital. It was a domestic abuse story…how typical. Maybe it’s because I drank too much scotch in reaction to it and yelled at Jordan and Jack. Maybe it’s because I felt like my father when I saw the fear in their eyes (even Jordan), and that scared me more than anything else in the world. Whatever it is, today I need someone who is not my “wife” and kids to yell at and be a total jerk to.

I watch Sunshine as he comes out of a new patient’s room. He looks mopey. Perfect. I crack my neck and move in for the kill. He looks mopey and that makes me hate him. He annoys me when he’s far too happy, but he angers me when he gets all misty eyes for no good reason. Oh, there might be reasons. But none of them are half as good as mine. Hi, I’m Perry Cox. My dad was an abusive drunk and my mom was a useless hag who let it all happen. I fucking win.

I quickly catch up to him as he ducks in the nearest bathroom. I curl my lip, grind my teeth, and say something scathing and bitter. I want him to feel ashamed for daring to show any kind of dark emotion in my presence today. I want him to feel stupid and thoughtless for thinking even for one second that his delicate emotions and puny girl problems can ever begin to look valid next to mine. I drew that short straw, Missy, and I have earned my right to be damaged and broody when I want to be. You don’t get that right. You don’t get to feel bad. Not today you don’t.

I don’t even know exactly what I say…it barely matters, really. I would imagine that this particular speech would have gone something like this:

“I see the droop in your shoulders and pout on your lips - and I know (because I know everything) that whatever it is that put those things there is miniscule and unimportant. You prance around here with your unicorns and rainbows attitude and at the same time you think we all need to pay attention to those amusing hormonal days you have once a month. You want hugs and platitudes and willing shoulders to cry on. But kid, I gotta tell ya – and you better put on those listening ears because I am so not in the mood to repeat myself – but you-have-no-idea. You have never come close to a really, truly bad day. You can cry and throw as many temper tantrums as you want on your own time – but in here you have to suck it up and put on a professional face and hide god damn it. You make me so mad I could rip out every urinal in this bathroom. I don’t want to see that little sad look on your annoying, chinless face until you have seen the real darkness and evil in this world. So man-up.”

That may have been all or mostly in my head, but some sentiment there actually came out of my mouth. I felt smug and productive. I felt good. I almost smiled and melted with relief into the floor tiles - the release was so palpable. It didn’t matter that it was fair or not. This is Newbie we’re talking about and somewhere in me I chose to lose it on him because he would take it like a champ. One swipe to the nose and a roll of the shoulders and I’m ready to face the rest of my day. Thank you, Newbie. But before I can make my victorious exit with another successful rant under my belt, the twerp actually responds.

He’s leaning on the porcelain sink in front of him, shoulders hunched, head down – a proper humbled stance if you ask me. He slowly lifts his head so he’s facing the mirror, but his eyes are closed. I wish they stayed that way. When he turns, still at that steady, slow pace to look at me – those eyes are open. I don’t bother to try and stick labels onto the emotions swirling around in there, it’s not worth the effort. And then he speaks.

“You can’t imagine the things I’ve seen.”

His voice is deep, and thick with conviction and meaning.

“You can’t imagine the things I’ve seen.”

Those eyes are leveled on me and I don’t recognize them. I don’t recognize him. He moves past me, lightly brushing my shoulder on his way out of the bathroom.

“You can’t imagine the things I’ve seen.”

The emotional void that was created when my anger and pain was begins to fill with confusion and doubt. I guess there’s more to that kid than any of us gave him credit for. I saw a dark mystery there that has left me speechless and amazed. John Dorian has secrets...who knew? Our resident “open and shut case” is not what he seems.

“You can’t imagine the things I’ve seen.”

Perhaps he has earned his sorrow after all.

Nobody Cares

2007-12-18T18:49:21Z

hey - another new story. i love wasting time!! okay, this one may or may not be a one shot. it's set somewhere towards the end of season 6 or maybe beginning of season 7. the title is the subject of this post. summary: JD begins his day, optimistic, thankful, and content with himself and his life. How long will that last?

enjoy. or not. meh.

Disclaimer: I do not own. So piss off.

JD’s thoughts in italics

JD strolls down the hallway at Sacred Heart hospital, looking comfortable and confident. He smiles, nods, and waves at the doctors and nurses he passes on his way.

After six years of working here, I’ve realized something profound. I belong here. This is my home. Everyone here has gotten to know me, accept me, and respect me. Even Dr. Cox (regardless of the girls’ names and degrading speeches). That’s just part of what makes Dr. Cox, Dr. Cox. I am completely at ease. For the first time in my life, I think I’m beginning to not mind being me.

JD approaches the janitor, who is busy scrubbing a stubborn stain on a door. The janitor seems to sense JD’s presence. He stops what he’s doing, closes his eyes in annoyance, and stands upright from his hunched position.

Ah, the janitor. At first glance, he appears to loathe me. But I know this is just our thing. Our game. It’s part of my life here, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

JD nods and salutes the janitor as he passes by.

“Oh, that’s right. Walk away, Scooter! Walk away!” The janitor calls after his retreating form.

JD glances back with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

“You can’t break my spirit, janitor. Not today!”

JD continues down the hallway while the janitor snarls and goes back to scrubbing in the background. As he rounds the corner, he comes in view of the nurses’ station where Carla, Turk, Elliot, and Dr. Cox are all standing or leaning. JD’s perma-grin widens.

And there they are. My gang. My crew. My peeps. My homies. They’ve been with me through it all. We’ve all had our ups and downs over the years. Lord knows this past year was a doozie for me. I’ve had more downs than I want to count. And yet…

JD slows down as he nears the desk, allowing himself to finish his internal contemplations with a thoughtful smile on his face.

…despite everything, despite the night I had last night – I’m happy. Truly happy. I’m the new JD. Normally I would have dragged myself in here this morning ready to whine to anyone who would listen about my problems. But today is different. Today I am so appreciative of all my friends and co-workers that I’m not going to burden them. Instead I’m going to tell them how much I appreciate them, and share my profound revelation with them.

JD finally reaches the nurse’s station where his friends are all in various states of work, reading charts, looking over paperwork, etc. Elliot yawns loudly. JD takes a deep breath to begin his unrehearsed speech.

“Guys, I have something to tell you all.” He announces proudly to a murmured and mumbled chorus of “good morning, JD”.

“I just want you all to kn-”

“Nobody cares, Newbie.” Dr. Cox says without even looking up from his patient’s chart.

Oh, classic Dr. Cox. Fine, maybe he’s not in a place in his life where he’s ready to hear my words of wisdom and contentment. At least I have people who acknowledge my friendship who will listen.

JD raises his eyebrows slightly in what he hopes is a look of indifference, but can’t seem to keep the girlish smile off his face. The effect was most likely lost, but he simply shrugs it off and turns to face the others. He opens he mouth and takes a little breath to prepare to speak again, but the words get stuck in his throat.

Turk, Carla, and Elliot aren’t waiting with attentive ears to hear what their friend is about to say. They aren’t giving chastising looks to Dr. Cox for cutting JD off. Instead Turk is nodding knowingly at Dr. Cox who continues to look down at the chart in his hands. There is something in Dr. Cox’s expression that says, “Yeah, he knows I’m right”. Elliot is looking bored, tired, and a little irritated. Somehow JD can tell by the way she’s standing and not making eye contact, that it’s not Dr. Cox that she’s irritated with this time.

Finally JD turns to Carla, who is always ready to stick up for him - the mother hen who enjoys taking the contrary route if it means showing others how they are “in the wrong”. But Carla isn’t standing there with one hand on her hip and one hand raised, her whole body at the ready to lit into the others. She seems both amused and uncaring. She makes a huffing noise and turns her back to JD, telling him in that tiny sound and movement that she agrees with Dr. Cox and has already moved on to something more important.

As the smile drops off his face, and the twinkle fades from his eyes, JD’s mind begins to replay moments and snippets locked in his memory. He thinks of the conversations he overheard while he was taped to the cafeteria ceiling. He pictures the bedpan race between Turk and Elliot he had heard Laverne telling one of the nurses about. He pictures himself sitting with Elliot, the loser of the race, in the bar - oblivious to the fact that Elliot had no desire to be there that night. He thinks of Turk, his best friend, still denying the betrayal of sleeping with JD’s girlfriend in college. He sees Dr. Cox freely accepting a hug from Elliot (of all people) when his baby girl was born. He remembers him telling Elliot, Carla, and Turk that they would be invited to his little girl’s birthday party, but not JD. JD pictures the whole crew, even the janitor, all mourning the death of their good friend and co-worker Lavern, while he alone sat with Jordan in her hospital room. He remembers how he felt the next day when Jordan and Dr. Cox both laughed at him when he though that she was serious about naming their child Jennifer Dylan and allowing JD to be her Godfather.

JD stood there at the nurse’s station for what felt like a lifetime as his mind flashed images and sound bites at a rapid-fire rate. In reality this all occurred in mere seconds. By the time he blinked a few times and lifted his head to look at the people around him, they had already forgotten about the little exchange that had just taken place and were in work mode. All it took was one minute and three little words to shatter his optimism. Maybe his spirit wasn’t as unbreakable as he thought. Maybe his optimism was too fragile, maybe it just needed stronger roots. Maybe if it had been as strong as he thought he wouldn’t have taken those words so hard.

But he did. As the world around him kept moving and turning, his world screeched to a hault. In an instant he knew, even if Dr. Cox didn’t really know it himself, that those words were absolutely true.

Nobody cared.

And even though nobody cared what his reaction would be, and nobody was paying the slightest bit of attention – JD swallowed, put on a small smile, and said quietly:

“I know.”

Just a silly little story

2007-12-17T17:22:54Z

I wrote something. it's just a silly little thing. summary: Just when JD thinks he know everyone inside and out...

wait - i just realized that sounds kinky. okay how about: There are some things you can't see coming.

Disclaimer: I don't own this stuff, are you kidding?
JD’s thoughts are in italics.

When you are at work more than you are at home, the people you work with become your family. They are who you spend the most time with, and the people who you share your every day experiences with. We have inside jokes...

JD walks through the doors of Sacred Heart hospital with his backpack slung over his shoulders, dressed in "street clothes". The Janitor is mopping the floor near the front desk.

"Morning, Janitor!"

The janitor looks up with a scowl on his face and leans against the mop handle.

"Morning, Janitor?" He repeats JD's greeting with disdain. "What, so now I'm too stupid to tell what time of day it is, is that it?"

JD keeps walking, turning around to give the janitor a "What? No. You're crazy!" look. He shakes his head and continues on down the hallway.

We have nicknames...

Turk is leaning against the desk at the nurses' station giving his wife, Carla, a chaste kiss on the lips before they part ways for the day. JD approaches the desk. The backpack gone and he’s now dressed in his scrubs.

"Chocolate Bear!"

"Sup, J-Dizzle?"

"Good morning, Bambi."

"And a fine morning it is, Carla."

Carla smiles at JD and waves to her husband as he leaves the nurses' station to start his day. Elliot walks up to the desk looking perky and cheerful. She stands in front of the desk, almost shoulder to shoulder with JD.

"Hey, JD."

"Hey, Smelliot!"

Dr. Cox waltzes down the hallway, his white coat billowing out behind him. He barely glances at the two doctors beside him as he reaches over to grab a chart off the desk.

"Barbie, Skipper -" He says curtly.

"Morning, Dr. Cox!" JD’s greeting sounds ridiculously animated in comparison.

Dr. Cox stands with his arms crossed over the patient's chart against his broad chest and swipes his nose with a finger.

"Yes. Brilliant. Matel has outdone themselves this time. A doll that can tell time...I'm just...as giddy as a schoolgirl. I really am." He shakes his head and starts walking off down the hallway mumbling to himself.

We can see things about each other that no one else can, with just a glance...

The Todd is strutting down the hallway, checking out the doctors and nurses as they pass by. Elliot is walking briskly in the opposite direction.

"Hey Todd!"

"Elliot...sporting the Infinity Edge extreme plunge push-up. Very niiiice."

Elliot, looks surprised and glances down at her chest. When she looks back up, she appears to be impressed and smiles at the Todd who snaps and points at her with both hands.

"Thanks, Todd."

JD flies around the corner in front of the Todd and nearly runs smack into a food cart an orderly is pushing down the hallway. He looks relieved and proud of himself for avoiding the collision. This lasts for all of half a second, until he trips over one of the janitor's water buckets. He slides down hallway on his back and comes to a stop at the Todd's feet.

"Hey Todd." He groans as he gets up from the floor, a little stiff.

The Todd grins widely at JD and carefully observes the harried young man as he brushes himself off. JD notices the Todd's studying eyes, and looks down at himself, obviously wondering what the Todd is looking at. He gives the Todd a nervous, questioning look.

"What?"

"I see you went with the Powerpuff Girls boxer-briefs. Very Hannah Barbera. How are they treating your penis?"

We can predict what each other is going to say...

JD, Carla, and Turk are sitting at a table in the cafeteria talking happily. Elliot walks up with a tray of foot and sits down next to JD.

"Oh. My. God. Did you guys hear?" She says leaning forward conspiratorially.

JD holds his hand up, "Say no more Smelliot." he says, looking rather smug. "Not only have I heard, but I have also seen."

Elliot looks confused, and turns to Carla and Turk for help. Carla shakes her head sadly and gives JD a sympathetic look.

"But, how could you-" Elliot starts to speak, but Carla leans in toward Elliot and whispers, "It's okay Elliot, just let him have this."

JD doesn't notice the exchange, he's too busy preparing to make his big announcement. He clears his throat and holds his hand up.

"Dr. Beardface has..." he clears his throat and mutters, "wait for it...shaved his beard!"

Elliot still looks confused, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times.

"Whoa, really? So that's who that new doctor was. Dr. Beardface...I never thought we'd see the day..." Turk stares off dreamily.

"Oh, JD." Elliot coos, reaching over and taking one of his hands and cradling it in her own.

"Elliot, I had no idea you'd take this so hard!"

Yes, she's holding my hand! Maybe I should grow a beard. I didn't know she was a beard lover.

"No, JD...that's not what I was going to say."

"It wasn't?"

"No."

Damn it! We predict what each other is going to say! WE PREDICT WHAT EACH OTHER IS GOING TO SAY!

"JD, Dr. Cox is leaving. He's moving to DC. He's put in his 2 week notice."

“Oh.”

I SO did not see that coming!

JD stares at the tabletop with huge, unblinking eyes.

Carla takes his other hand and rubs it soothingly. "Bambi...sweetie...I know this is a lot to take in. I know how much he means to you, but you're going to be okay."

Turk just stares at his best friend as though he’s scared he’s going to explode.

"Baby, I'm scared." He whispers to Carla.

Carla shoots Turk a nervous glance and continues to rub JD's hand.

"I think he's in shock." Elliot whispered.

Everyone's eyes are on JD, whose eyes are still trained on the tabletop. Suddenly JD blinks, shakes his head, and clears his throat.

"If everyone will excuse me..." He stands up, letting go of the girls' hands and smiling a little too serenely at the group.

"Vanilla Bear, what are you going to do?"

"JD, if you want some time alone, I'll go check on your patients for you." Elliot offered.

"Guys, guys, please. I'm fine. My break is over and I have to go back to work."

No one seems convinced.

"Hey, I'd like to think that after 6 and a half years I've matured enough and become secure enough as a doctor to be able to handle a situation like this. People move all the time! We'll still keep in touch. After all, I am little JD's godfather."

Still, no one seems convinced.

"Oh, come on you guys. What did you expect me to do? Run off wailing and screaming? Attach myself to Dr. Cox's leg and make him drag me around for the next 2 weeks?"

Everyone shrugs.

"Oh, please. Give me a little credit here! It's sad, I'll miss him, but life goes on! Now if you'll excuse me, I have patients who need me."

JD tosses his head back and marches out of the cafeteria, throwing his tray away in the process.

The remaining three watch him leave before sighing and slumping down in their seats.

"I bet on 5." Elliot pipes up suddenly, holding out her wrist so her watch face is visible.

"Come on, Elliot. Be a little sensitive." Turk chides.

"I'm going with 3." Carla chimes in.

"You're way off. It's going to happen riiiiggghhhht NOW!"

Just then JD's voice drifts in through the cafeteria doors.

"NOOOOOOO! Why God?! All is lost. ALL IS LOST!!!!"

Does Your Brain do What My Brain Does?

2007-11-09T19:24:56Z

I'm just curious - given the fic prompt:

Whoever: "How do you know she's the one?" or maybe "How do you know you're really in love with her?"

JD: "She doesn't make me sick."

what would you come up with? if anyone feels like sitting down and writing a fic surrounding that - i'd be curious to know if your brain does what my brain does with that. that particular dialog wouldn't even have to be used, it could just be a story explaining JD's answer. Any takers??

New Story!

2007-10-25T19:17:30Z

I wrote something. Just a one shot weirdness. I don't know.

Disclaimer: I do not own Scrubs or the characters

The doctor paused outside the patient's door. It wasn't his patient. He didn't need to be there. That hadn't stopped him from going to this room every day to check up on this patient, though. This wasn't even his hospital. This wasn't even the right kind of hospital. None of that mattered - not to him. The staff here long ago gave up trying to stick to some kind of regular procedure and protocol around who was authorized to do what with regards to this patient and the visitors who frequented this room. This patient's visitors proved themselves to be perfectly capable of providing the necessary care during their stays, which made it easier to bend the rules for them. They were all professionals after all. Besides, the over worked and burned out staff here were all too aware of how rare it was to see such an unrelenting, loyal, and caring group of individuals watching over a patient for any length of time. It was a heart breaking, yet nearly inevitable pattern. A patient gets admitted, family and friends start out diligently visiting and advocating, and over time the roster shortens and the visits become less and less frequent. Most of the patients here have no one to advocate for them anymore, no one who was willing to stick things out "just in case", making the hope of true recovery diminish into a faint shadow.

The man frowned as he looked through the window into the room. He unclenched his hands and slowly removed them from the pockets of his white lab coat. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes - just for a second. Just to give himself a brief moment of dark and solace before entering the room. It was his pattern. It's what he did every time he came here. He told himself it was just his way of collecting himself so he wouldn't lose control when he went in there. It was partially true. But if he was really honest with himself he would know that it was more than that. It was a tiny moment of grief. It was a silent prayer of "maybe this time. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe this is the day." It was his way of shutting out the world around him just long enough to feel those conflicting emotions of fear, defeat, and hope before he put on that mask of hardened cement.

Letting a breath out slowly, he pulled the door open and took long, confident, and determined strides into the room. The door softly clicked shut behind him.

"Morning, sunshine. Did you get your beauty sleep last night?"

Nothing. But that wasn't abnormal.

Jaw clenched, fighting the urge to swoop over to the occupied bed and fly into a rage, he instead calmly moved to the windows and pulled the curtains back.

"Now, I know you're embarrassed about being seen without your hair done up and your lip stick on..."

His movements were smooth, practiced, memorized as he checked various things around the room: Thermostat, the pitcher of water, the list of who was on duty for the day, the water level in the vase of flowers on the windowsill...

"But seriously, you reeahhhly need some sunlight on that pasty skin of yours. I'm not kidding. I'm going blind with the glare."

Finally, there was nothing left to check but the patient, still sitting quietly in the bed - eyes silently following the doctor as he moved around the room. The patient stiffened slightly, yet barely flinched as the doctor gently took hold of each wrist and inspected both arms, one at a time, then both legs, and the every other place where there was exposed skin. Those eyes were carefully trained on the doctor, watching every move, waiting.

When he was done, he slid a chair over to the bed, not even wincing as the legs screeched across the cheap tile floor. He flopped down unceremoniously onto the chair, legs sprawled out in front of him, and scrubbed his face. He was stalling of course, he always did. He knew he'd have to actually look into those eyes as soon as his hand left his face. He felt as though his heart climbed into his throat with the anticipation of what he would see there. It was the same every day, yet he still hadn't fully gotten used to it. He wasn't sure he ever would.

With another sigh he let the hand that was rubbing his face fall into his lap and he slowly raised his eyes to the face before him. His heart broke all over again.

"Are you going to talk today, Newbie or do I need to do all work?"

Nothing. Blank, empty stare.

"Right. Well, that's fine. It's not like I'm not used to picking up the slack where you're concerned anyway, Princess. I mean, you were always so busy slacking off, daydreaming, or flirting with Gandhi. Someone had to make sure your patients were taken care of."

Nothing.

"You missed a rough one yesterday. Apparently some hot shot on the news decided it was a good idea to announce that there has been a possible instance of the bird flu in a man at County and now every man, woman, and child with the sniffles felt the need to get checked out. Of course it wasn't the bird flu. It was just some idiot rumor started by a paranoid dingbat rookie looking to discover something big and noteworthy to become famous for. Kelso almost suspended me for "unprofessional and unruly behavior toward a patient" five separate times. But then I had to remind him how royally screwed he'd be without me there since you're...here."

He blinked.

"Newbie...we...I...we all miss you. I mean, who else am I going to rant to everyday and call girls’ names? Elliot isn't any fun to harass these days, and calling her girls’ names in just confusing. Carla won't take any of my crap, and Gandhi just walks away. So really...don't you think it's about time you snap out of it and come back to work?"

Nothing. Of course. Why would there be?

Sigh.

"Aw, you're killing me here, you really are."

Another blink and a flicker of something in those eyes. Eyebrows raise slightly, then fall.

"You can't even say anything to me today? It's been a bad week for you, hasn't it? You were like this yesterday, too. I don't even know if you'd remember that. What goes on in that brain of yours, anyway? Well, truthfully that's always been a bit of a mystery. But you at least gave me clues. Weird, disconnected, girly clues."

The corner of his mouth twitches.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Newbie. I've tried everything. I don't expect you to meet me half way, but would it kill you to take one step, huh? Just one. That's all I'm asking. And don't think for one second you've reduced me to begging, Lucinda, because that's never going to happen, got it?"

He takes a calming breath. He was starting to lose his cool. He could feel his heart rate picking up and his face flush. It never helped to get angry in here. He knew that.

"All right, fine. Have it your way. I have to get to work, but I'll be back tomorrow. I'm working a double so it won't be until later. Carla and Gandhi will be in this afternoon...so...maybe you could talk to them."

He meant it as a question, but it came out like a statement instead. Ah well. It probably didn't matter.

The doctor stood up and stretched, regarding his former protégé a moment before tentatively reaching out and rustling his hair. His eyes met the kid's - wide and questioning...not entirely empty. With a small shake of the head, he turned to go.

"Sorry."

It was said softly, nearly whispered, but he heard it. It wasn't the first time. If there was anything that the kid still displayed it was guilt and a confused sorrow. He had heard this word tumble out of his mouth probably more than any other since he'd landed here. He hung his head, his hand wrapped around the doorknob.

"I know. You always are."

He looked up and caught those eyes again, staring at him with shame and a little fear. He looked so lost, so sad...he could cry every time he looked in those eyes…or scream. Instead he felt an old determination well up inside him.

"I haven't given up Newbie. You know that I'm an insufferable, stubborn ass. If there is one thing in this world you can count on, it's that I am going to be here, every day until you're better - until you're you again. I'm not a patient man. You were always one to want to please everyone, most of all me. So, unless you want to piss me off to the point of no return, you better speed up this damn healing process."

And now he was mad. This was the typical way these visits ended. Always in anger. His hand tensed around the doorknob, ready to turn it and walk out.

"You're wrong, Perry."

The man froze. The kid's voice had changed. It wasn't soft and unsure. It was his voice. The one he still heard in his sleep. He was almost afraid to move, for fear that any movement would cause the room to shift back the way it had been, the way it has always been.

"You need to let me go. I'm not going to go back to the way I was...before."

In an instant the fear was gone. The man whipped his head around so fast he was surprised his neck didn't snap. He felt like he was on fire. This time when their eyes met, he didn't see a lost little boy who was confused and scared. Those eyes were clear. They were clear and bright, they were blazing with life he hadn't seen in a long time. He stared back at the kid for a few seconds, taking everything in. They weren't just clear and alive, they were dark and haunted at the same time. And in them there was a challenge. And the doctor never backs down from a challenge.

In a flash, he was back by the bed. His large, steady hands grabbed ahold of narrow, bony shoulders.

"Before what? JD! Tell me. Before what?"

He was searching those eyes again. For a split second that look was still there, and then the kid blinked. When those paper-thin eyelids slid back up, the eyes were already beginning to cloud over.

"No, no no no. JD! Tell me. Talk to me! You're not going back to the way you were before what?!"

The kid's mouth opened slightly, then closed. He blinked again, and the eyes changed even more. The doctor gave his shoulders a firm shake.

"Oh hell no...JD, damn it! You remember, don't you? You know."

Nothing. The lost look was back. Lost and confused and...blank.

"JD, God Damn it - you have to tell me what happened. I can't help you if you don't talk to me. What the hell happened to you?!"

Nothing.

He let his arms drop. His head drooped to his chest.

"Damn it." He whispered. He looked back up at the kid. He could never get used to how small he looks here. Are the beds bigger here?

"Okay kid." He nodded and got back up, heading back to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow. Make sure you get that beauty rest. Lord knows you need it."

He didn't look back. The door clicked behind him, and he leaned back against it closing his eyes. His heart was still hammering in his chest. He had seen something in the kid today that threatened to undo him completely. For the first time, he had glimpsed clarity. And it was terrifying. He had often doubted the genuineness of the kid's condition. But everyone had always convinced him that he was just being some strange combination of cynical and hopeful. Today he was sure he got his proof. And now that he had it...

For the first time in his life, Dr. Cox wasn't so sure he wanted to be right.

Author's Note: Yeah, I have no idea where the crap this came from. I was driving to my second job and all of a sudden this popped into my head out of nowhere! It was short and clear and bizarre. But then, once I sat down to write it (er type it) I lost the most important part! I forgot what I was going to have JD say or do to make Dr. Cox think he was lucid and remembered what it was that made him like this. So, I had to come up with something that I have an awful feeling isn't nearly as nifty as my original thought was. And then for some reason, I didn't want to use Dr. Cox's name until the end, but that may have just made it confusing with all the "he"s and "him"s...bah. I don't know. I think as usual the end result doesn't do justice to the formless idea. Poopies.

Hairied and haggard

2007-10-08T14:34:10Z

I don't know what I'm doing today. I feel twitchy and stressed. I have a ton of work to do and I can't seem to do anything but eat multi grain goldfish, drink coffee, and play around on the internet on company time. i hope Big Brother isn't watching. he's a little bastard.

That is all. Obligatory first entry complete.

The already and not yet

Writer's Block: *blushes*

New Story

Nobody Cares

JD’s thoughts in italics

“You can’t break my spirit, janitor. Not today!”

Just a silly little story

Does Your Brain do What My Brain Does?

New Story!

Hairied and haggard

Writer's Block: blushes