How would it be if JD were bipolar? It could make sense; he shows periods of sadness, and also of manic creativity, in his daydreams. Bipolar disorder is something that quite interests me, as a lot of my favourite comedians have had it, Spike Milligan to name just one. It's quite an odd thought, so forgive me if it's not perfect. This is just the first chapter, there will probably be one more after this.
Aslo, it's my first fan fiction - so it may not be the best! Please review and tell me what you think.
I do not own any of the scrubs characters.
***
Dark clouds dragged themselves across the damp sky, spitting droplets maliciously on the inhabitants of the ground below. People rushed for cover, holding newspapers over their heads, sheltering their paperwork, scuttling like bugs to escape the downpour. Ambulances pulled in and out of the hospital, doctors strode importantly around the courtyard.
JD sighed as he walked around the corner and out of the sliding glass doors that marked the boundaries of the hospital. It had been another tough day. Hard as it was to think about Kim, the miscarriage, and the fact that he had only a small, uncomfortable tent and a cold night to look forward to, even worse was the guilt that somewhere, someone was going through much more than he, and probably not making as big a deal of it, either. He sighed again as he stepped of the cracked concrete ramp and grabbed the handlebars of his scooter. Here he stopped and stared at his hand thoughtfully, flexing his fingers and watching the tendons snaking on the back of his hand as he felt the rain prickling on the back of his neck.
He smiled as he mounted his bike. He had made up his mind.
***
"Hey, Carla, you seen JD?" Turk hoisted himself onto the counter whilst noisily sucking on a smoothie carton from the canteen.
"He's gone to see his brother. And don't slurp like that, Turk, it's disgusting." Said Carla, eyebrow raised, as she watched Turk swing his legs like a small, hyped up child.
"Since when did JD willingly visit his brother?"
"I don't know. I think it's good that they're spending time together. Maybe you'd do well spending some time with your brother. Maybe some of his good manners would rub off on you." Carla scowled as Turk continued to slurp his smoothie regardless.
"Well, that's fine by me," Turk exclaimed, "JD's like a brother to me, but if he's found someone else to offload on, I'm not complaining!"
"Turk! You should be more supportive of your friend!"
"Ah, come on, baby. You know I'm jokin'. And besides... without JD to babysit, maybe tonight we can have a night in... just the two of us... light some candles... put on some music..."
"Turk!" Carla scolded, but she was smiling. Turk grinned and jumped off the counter, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.
"Got to go, baby. I'll see you to-night! Keep working that thiiiiing!" Carla grinned and stuck out her tongue flirtatiously as Turk shuffled backwards round a corner. She continued smiling as she absent-mindedly brushed Turk's empty carton into the trash and turned back to the chart she had been looking at, but her smile faltered, and a furrow of worry worked its way across her face as she recalled Turk's words... now she thought about it, JD never visited his brother, and always loathed the times Dan visited him, it did seem a bit odd... but she was probably over reacting. She shook her head and chased the thought from her mind as she turned to check on her patients up and down the ward.
***
"All I'm saying, Elliot, is that maybe you should go over and just check on JD, I'm not saying you have to spend the whole evening with him," snapped an exasperated Carla down the phone.
"Well, he said he's going to his brother's, Carla! I'm not his nurse!" snapped an equally exasperated Elliot. "Why do we have to babysit him, anyway? He can take care of himself."
"Oh, come on. This is JD we're talking about."
"Okay, I see your point, but he's gonna have to take care of himself tonight because some of us have boyfriends who haven't seen the crazy yet and still find us attractive enough to have sex with!"
"Alright, alright! I'll get Doctor Cox to do it!" Carla slammed down the phone as the voice on the other end became so high it almost exited the realm of human hearing.
"Come on, baby, this train's gonna leave the station if you don't hurry!" came a voice from the other room. Turk appeared in the doorway in his boxer shorts.
"Just a minute!" Carla called, jabbing the phone buttons as if she had a personal vendetta against them. Turk disappeared from the doorway as she held the phone to her ear and tapped her fingers impatiently as the phone began to ring.
"He-llo?" came a bored sounding voice from the end of the phone.
"Dotor Cox, I need you to go and check on JD for me," said Carla pointedly.
"Aw, now Carla, why would I do a thing like that when I could sit at home stabbing a fork repeatedly into my leg instead?" came the sarcastic reply.
"Doctor Cox. You're gonna do this for me, because JD's going through a tough time right now, and you know that deep down you're fond of JD, and if you don't I'll make your life a living hell for the next week. Is that okay with you?" her voice dripped with mock concern as Dr Cox groaned down the phone.
"Fine. But don't expect me to rush over there, I have other stuff to do."
"Just so long as you go. Buh-bye now." Carla snorted and placed the phone down. Feeling satisfied, she turned on her heel and marched into the other room.
"Okay then. Where were we...?"
***
JD sat back on his reclining chair and stared at the sky. The rain had cleared up, leaving a clear sky sparkling with flickering stars as the setting sun cast an array of colours across the remaining clouds that lay low on the horizon. It was beautiful, but JD was in no mood to appreciate it. He lay in quiet contemplation until the last light of the day had disappeared, then got up.
JD looked around the small plot of land that he owned. Behind the decking was an array of tall bushes planted around the corners to create a small private space. JD jumped down, dragging his chair with him and checking the contents of his pocket as he did so. Pushing the chair into a sheltered area behind a particularly well flowered rosebush, he settled himself comfortably into the chair and plugged in his earphones, brushing his unusually un-groomed hair out of his face. Not that it really mattered to him anymore, of course.
He closed his eyes as the deep resounding piano notes filtered their way into his head.
"She's just a small-town girl... living in a lonely wor-ld.."
As the breathy voice began to sing JD relaxed and reached into his pocket. He hands clasped on the cold object and he drew it out of his pocket, leaving it to rest on his stomach as he enjoyed the music.
JD opened his eyes and lifted the penknife on his stomach. He flicked it open, and as he stared at the gleaming blade he was surprised to find he felt no fear. This just strengthened his resolve as he rolled up his sleeves and brought the small penknife close to his wrists, savouring the cold feel of the metal on his flesh. Funny, how such a thing usually associated with scouts and camp-fires and sing-songs could be used for such a purpose as his...
Now the cold blade pierced his flesh as he drew it across the inside of his wrist, making sure he severed the vein as he did so. That was the good thing about being a doctor. JD laughed at the irony; he had become a doctor to save lives, and now he was taking his own.
JD repeated the process on his other wrist, then dropped the bloodstained knife onto the ground with a sharp gasp. He stared at the torn flesh, smelled the salty sweetness and felt blood dripping warmly from the wound... he could even see his pulse still beating defiantly through the shining red mass of torn veins and tendons... if he twitched his fingers just so, he could still see a muscle attempting to move...
JD began to laugh. It wasn't a nice sound, even to his ears.
He twisted his head to the side and vomited violently onto the ground.
JD thought of all his friends; of Turk, Carla, and Elliot; he wondered for one last time what could have happened if they could have held it together for just long enough...
The music came to an end just as JD closed his eyes. An overwhelming tiredness took hold of him, and he sank into a dark, unforgiving unconsciousness.
***
Doctor Cox slammed the door of his car and straightened up as he observed the small plot of land that was JD's. He crossed his arms and leant against his car.
"Hey, Muriel!"
That should do the trick, he thought. If Sandy was here he'd come running up like an over-enthusiastic puppy in a flash. Though hopefully he will be at his brother's, thought Doctor Cox. Another whiney self-pitying rant from the kid was the last thing he needed. His mind wandered to the scotch he'd left next to the TV, and the Jordan he'd left in the bedroom.
"Dorothy! Heel!"
This was odd. Doctor Cox brushed his nose and crossed his arms, his head tilted to one side in an angry scowl.
"Betty, get over here now or I'll go right ahead and interrupt your little slumber party or makeover or whatever it is you do with your time, but I re-heally don't want to spend any more time here than I have to, so here's what I'm gonna do; I'm gonna count to five, and by the time I finish, you're gonna be down here, and please dear God try to keep your manhood intact for a change, capiche? 5...4...3..."
Now, this was just too odd, he thought. With an irritated growl he heaved himself out of leaning position and strode over the sidewalk and up the steps to the decking. He scanned the wooden decking. Definitely not here, he thought, with a feeling of relief. Now he could leave.
Glad his work was done, but at the same time pissed that he had been heaved out of his home for nothing, Doctor Cox Swung around and began to walk back to the car, before coming to a halt...something was strange here. He turned back around and surveyed what he saw.
There was the tent, zipped up and flaps closed. That was no big shocker, if he had really gone away for a few days. But then again, there was his scooter...why would he have not gone on his scooter? He was rarely seen without his camp little scooter. And why would he have left without taking that creepy dead dog? Surely he wouldn't have risked that disturbing thing being stolen, though why the hell anyone would want it beats me, he mused.
The cold glass eyes of the Labrador gave Doctor Cox the creeps, though he'd never admit that to anyone, if he could help it. Doctor Cox walked back up to the edge of the decking, and looked over the edge. Nothing there, either, except a few bushes. Rose bushes, he noted disdainfully. How very manly.
Doctor Cox almost turned away again, but just as he did he caught a glimpse of something shiny out of the corner of his eye. He turned and looked closer. If he looking carefully, he thought he could make out the shape of a... penknife? And next to that, the corner of something...a white plastic garden chair...in the middle of a rosebush?
Doctor Cox jumped down.
"Oh my god, Shit!"
For a few seconds the man couldn't move for the horror of the scene before him. Then his medical training kicked in, and Doctor Cox rushed forwards, trying hard to ignore the blood that was everywhere he looked. He grabbed the unconcious JD's wrists and lifted them into the air, while at the same time ripping off his jacket and wrapping them around the grisly wounds, applying pressure to try and stem the flow of blood. Not that there could be much blood left inside him now. A faint trickle oozed from underneath the thin fabric, underneath which Doctor Cox could just make out a barely distinguishable, erratic pulse.
"Shit, Newbie, what the hell is this?"
The tall man almost ripped his pocket in his desperate attempts to reach his cell phone. He whipped it to his ear before realising in his panic that he'd forgotten to dial 911. He swore loudly, cursing himself; more than 20 years in medicine and this son of a bitch made him lose his head. He stabbed in the numbers; desperately aware that time was slipping away.
"911, what's your emergency?"
Doctor Cox barely registered what he was saying. After the infuriatingly calm female voice had ceased to talk in his ear, he dropped the phone to the ground, where it lay, forgotten; he began to talk frantically to the unnaturally still form lying in front of him.
"Shit, newbie. I mean, shit! Why the hell would you go and do something like this to yourself, you, of all people! Speak to me!"
Doctor Cox shook JD, hard, painfully aware of how fragile he looked, his head lolled to one side, his mouth open, his clothes stained in an unforgiving red. The taller man kept babbling, not knowing what he was saying, but scared to stop. He couldn't stop.
Suddenly there was movement. A group of paramedics swarmed around, checking the still unconscious form, unpacking instruments, equipment, asking question after question. What happened? When did you find him? How long has he been here? What happened? What happened?
Doctor Cox shook his head. The questions seemed to be too far away to apply to him. A firm hand guided him towards the ambulance. He climbed in, staring at the stretcher, the beep and clatter of machines all around him. As the ambulance drove off, he shook himself; ashamed and furious of his momentary weakness, he began to help the paramedics. They had to work fast.
***
The phone rang.
Elliot woke up, blearily staring around at the darkened room. Who would be calling at this time of night? It must be important. She sat up, stretched, then threw off the covers and clumsily stumbled across the carpet, her slim frame clad in only a tight vest and skimpy underwear. In the bed the outline of a man rolled over as a beam of light from the next room fell across his face, waking him.
"Wh'izzit?"
"Don't worry, babe, I got it," Elliot called drowsily, grabbing the phone and sitting on the sofa so as to warm herself up.
"Hello?"
"Barbie. You need to come down to the hospital now. This is important"
"Doctor Cox?" Elliot flared up, suddenly angry. "This is my night off, tell them to get someone else to do whateve-"
"It's JD."
Elliot's stomach dropped, all anger forgotten. "JD..? What ha-"
"I'll explain later, just get here now. He might not hold up for much longer."
The phone clicked as Doctor Cox hung up. The high pitched tone from the receiver was all that could be heard through the quiet flat as Elliot sat in the dark, shocked, her silhouette outlined by the yellow glow of the flickering streetlamp shining uncaringly through the window.
***
The mottled white walls of the Intensive Care Unit reflected the green, jumping light from the ECG, and the monotonous beep of the machine was a constant reminder of how death lurked in the shadowy recesses of the hospital. The harsh white light from the strip lighting shone onto the reclining shape on the hospital bed, the red tube from the drip feeding blood into the form on the bed contrasting sharply with the clean whiteness of the sheets. The body lying there was a sorry sight indeed. Tubes twisted everywhere; they linked together underneath his nostrils, connecting him to the artificial respirator; they pierced his skin, fixing him to the numerous drips around his bedside.
But the first things to catch the eye were the wide bands of gauze, wrapped over and over again around the two wrists that lay exposed outside the bed sheets.
Doctor Cox stood outside the room, staring at the feeble figure through half shuttered blinds. His fingers were linked behind his head, and he stood stock still. Doctors and nurses gave him a wide berth, busying themselves with charts and pens and paper, lowering their eyes as they walked by. They had all known JD. Or they thought they had.
The loud clack of high heels broke the careful quiet of the ward, and a thoroughly dishevelled Elliot Reid came hurrying towards where Doctor Cox stood. Doctor Cox's arms dropped to his sides as he turned to face her.
"Doctor Cox, what the hell-"
She stopped mid sentence as she saw through the blinds into the room. Her mouth dropped open as she struggled to find the words. Doctor Cox spared her, talking in a monotone, the words that came from him having a flat, well rehearsed air.
"I found him this evening at his half-acre. It was an attempted suicide. We got him back to the hospital just in time; they were able to stitch his wounds pretty quick. Almost impossible work, they said, he made damn sure he cut deep."
Doctor Cox spoke emotionlessly, sparing no detail. Tears began to pour down Elliot's face as she moved into the room and sank down on a chair next to JD, her eyes never moving from his sunken face. Angry red shadows beneath his eyes illustrated just how pale the rest of his face was. The light caught his hair, his head tilted to one side, eyes flickering, but not opening.
"I only went over there because Carla made me. JD owes her his life, but he's lost a lot of blood. So much that he's in a self-induced coma. He may not be able to pull through, he's already crashed once. I'm sorry, Barbie, but all we can do now is hope he can pull himself through. You might want to say your last –"
At this point Elliot twisted her head sharply round, causing Doctor Cox to falter, but he quickly averted his eyes and carried on stoutly;
"You might want to say your last goodbye."
At this point a loud bang announced the arrival of Turk and Carla; the door bounced back on its hinges and slammed as they entered the room. Carla's face was already streaked with tears and raw with crying, Turk's face was an image of shock and bewilderment.
"We came as soon as we h-heard" choked Carla. Doctor Cox nodded and stared at the chart at the end foot of the bed.
"Did they tell you what happened?"
Carla nodded, fresh tears welling up in her eyes as she buried her head in Turk's chest. His eyes hadn't left JD's face the whole time, but his expression had changed; his face was now pulled tight in a stony expression as he bit his lip, hard.