A/N: I don't usually write stories this angst-driven, but yeah…once it popped into my head, it wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it all out. I apologize in advance, and I hope you enjoy it all the same.
Disclaimer: I own a very large nothing.
Warning: Rated T for character death and language.
Our Last Christmas
There's snow. Lot's of snow. And blood. There's lots of that too. He didn't even realize a person could shed that much blood.
Yes you did. You're a doctor, remember? The average woman contains six to seven pints of blood. You know that. The fact that there's so much isn't really that unusual. You just can't handle it.
The paramedics didn't even call him, to be honest, but Sacred Heart is a small hospital, and the news had reached JD fast. They had tried to restrain him; to keep him from going and creating panic driven chaos at the sight of her. Turk had stepped in though, demanding that he be let into the ambulance and allowed to go with them.
Much to everyone's surprise, the doctor has yet to scream. Truthfully, he has barely made a sound. When he first stepped out of the ambulance, when his eyes first connected to her glazed, wide, blue ones, he let out a heart wrenching moan; a nauseating sound that came out like a brutalized animal. Surely he had meant to scream, but his cry of loss and agony had somehow managed to lodge itself within his swollen, parched throat.
So much blood. So much red…
"So…what do you think?"
JD, who had placed himself on the small bench outside of the dressing room, looked up at the sound of her. He had prepared himself to reassure her that she looked lovely; that she was way too hard on herself and that she needed to stop listening to that pig face nonsense that her mom kept on trying to feed her. Yet when he looked up, all he could do was gawk. "Wow," he finally breathed.
Elliot bit her bottom lip, blushing slightly, as JD took hold of the beautiful red dress that wrapped itself elegantly around the woman he loved; the silk strap on her left shoulder falling down just a little in the process. "So it's good then…?"
"God, Elliot, you look…you look…"
"It's not, I mean…I don't look fat in it, right?"
JD was up from his seat in a second, walking over to her and placing his hands on her shoulders. Drawing only one palm away, he placed it delicately under her chin, giving her no other option but to look up and into his sincere, blue eyes. "You don't look fat in anything, Elliot. And in this dress especially, you look…you look… God, Elliot, you look beautiful."
The blonde rocked on her heels a little with a smile that could warm a polar bear's heart. "Really?"
"Yeah, really." JD leaned in for a kiss, in which the other doctor gladly complied. Pulling back just a few seconds later, hands still placed on her shoulders, JD smiled yet again. "Red's a good color on you."
JD grips her hand firmly. Upon first having taken it into his own, he had stroked her blood soaked skin with nothing short of tender loving care. But now his grip's becoming tighter and tighter, hoping that somehow, someway, his own life will seep into her frozen body; that he'll be able to revive her through want and hope and love.
But their life isn't a fairy tale. They aren't the stars of the latest Disney movie. Elliot is not a princess that can be awakened with her true love's kiss, even if JD had always considered her his princess. It just wasn't going to happen. It just wasn't how reality worked.
"Dr. Dorian."
The brunet tenses at once. He doesn't want to be a doctor right now. He just wants to be JD. He wants to be left alone with the love of his life, because when she wakes up, she's going to want to see him before anyone else and he has to be there to help her. Don't they understand that?
"Dr. Dorian, it's time now. There's nothing more we can do. We need to take her now, Sir. She…she's gone."
He's not an idiot. He knows kissing her won't do anything, but gone!? No. No, not yet. That's just…that's insane! Not yet, definitely not yet. He's sure he can feel a pulse beneath her wrist. He's sure of it. And even though he knows it won't do any good, he reaches across to kiss her; to place his frozen lips onto her swollen red ones.
"Red's a good color on you."
There are people surrounding him faster than he can count. They're pulling him away – pulling – and he really doesn't understand why.
"Did he just kiss a fucking corpse!?"
"Shut up, asshole! The chick's his fiancée!"
"Oh, damn…talk about the world's worst Christmas present…"
He can hear everything everyone's saying, yet somehow, it doesn't register. They can't be talking about him, right? Yet he's being pulled back now, and whatever had prevented him from screaming before has clearly dissipated. He's hollering – crying, begging, pleading – as they lift up Elliot's body and place her onto the stretcher; taking her away and slamming the ambulance doors like they just completed a fine day's work; like they're carrying luggage rather than the woman he had planned on spending the rest of his life with.
Without thinking, his eyes drift over to the other ambulance, where the driver's body is being placed gently onto the stretcher; gently because he is still alive.
On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…
JD never thought he'd hate someone so much for living.
A drunk who drove into a tree…
And just like that, his vision blurs; from tears and shock and horror and pain. Blood and snow, blood and snow. It's all he can process for what feels like eternity. Blood and snow.
"Red's a good color on you."
He has no idea when he broke free long enough to grab hold of the back of her ambulance. Someone's screaming at the driver not to start; that Dr. Dorian has lost all professional decorum. He thinks he hears whoever said that getting yelled at too, but he doesn't really care. He just can't let the ambulance take off. Not with her inside. Not with her waiting for him. She's going to wake up and be scared. She's not going to know where she is, and she's going to want him there to let her know that it's all going to be okay.
He tries so hard to keep his hold around the thing, even when something nips his neck and a warmth that contradicts the weather around him spreads throughout the entirety of his shaken, frozen body. Voices around him. Lot's of voices. Yet the one he can remember hearing last is his own.
"Red's a good color on you."
A/N: One day I should really sit down and write a JD/Elliot story that JD/Elliot fans will actually like… Until next time.