A/N: Tamaki becomes brain dead after a car accident. How will the brilliant, assertive Haruhi Fujioka deal with it? Based off of the Scrubs episode "My Long Goodbye." I do not own Scrubs or Ouran High School Host Club. I apologize for course language and strings of words, but it makes do. Also based off of the song "A Bad Dream" by Keane. Again, I don't own the song. Any French speakers out there? The title literally translates to "A Bad Dream."

Un Mauvais Rêve

To many, death is simply a recurring part of living. Bereavement, the five stages of death; these processes merely indicate humanity and its beliefs. But death never deeply affected Haruhi; she became immune to its effects after her mother died. True, that belief made her seem cold and inhumane, but the fact that she stubbornly moved on showed her character, and more importantly her great imperviousness to weakness. And once in a while she would contemplate about those long forgotten lives she once loved and wondered what if? What if they had not gotten that ugly stroke, that deadly cancer? She felt ashamed thinking of those thoughts. Still, perhaps death was the cure to living. Haruhi had seen her mother died so peacefully, she dealt with the disease. Kotoko took control of the disease, rather than vice versa. She almost planned out her death, and her grief counselor encouraged her calm, natural demeanor.

Still, when given the chance to enjoy life, a person should take it and spend more time appreciating life, rather than wasting it on such dreary thoughts. A young brunette stared out the window. It was a sunny day, not unusual for a summer day. Her dad had left for work early, and she waited for the alarm clock to buzz. School was out, and she had finally received her acceptance letter into Ouran Law School. Haruhi had not slept in days, studying for her finals. Nevertheless, she could not break off the habit of waking up early and staying up late, although her academic worries were far from threatening at the moment.

Out of all the unbroken habits was Haruhi's poor aesthetic. True, she did not cut her hair after being forced to cross-dress for the host club in high school, but besides that, her wardrobe still consisted of boy shorts, unironed polos, and oversized t-shirts. She neither had the time nor the will to go shopping. The mindless girl found the hobby petty, time-consuming, and above all wasteful to her tight budget. Plus she had not kept in contact with the infamous host club after enrolling in college. Time simply disappeared from her hands like magic.

Even above that dilemma, Haruhi had never once fallen in love. She found the cons against it similar to her distaste in fashion; it wasted money, time, and importance. The word love meant investment in time she did not have and a bet in commitment, which she only gave to her long term goal. She sought after the career passionately, incessantly, and endlessly, but as for relationships….The girl never once cared for attention, unless it was to defend someone. Haruhi simply did not care, and she wondered if her lack in emotion was a hindrance to her invigorating compassion towards justice. But she still missed her old high school experiences and the rapports she had formed with the host club members. The feeling she felt towards those idiots….that feeling breached love's confinements.

Haruhi let out a long sigh as she stretched and climbed out of her futon to make breakfast. She went downstairs to the main floor to check for a paper and greeted the cheerful landlady who rambled on about the latest news, robbers and rapists. She climbed up the stairs once more and opened her apartment door. The risks were zero to none, the day shone brightly, and no thief or pervert in their right mind would barge in. Haruhi effortlessly swung the door open and opened the fridge. There were no chores to do, nothing to study for. She had the day to herself. And the great Haruhi Fujioka chose to waste it by watching a Cheers marathon. She brewed her morning black coffee and opened the window with another sigh of relief. Cheers and nothing to do. Fantastico. Her brilliant mind undressed of its complexity and patiently became vulnerable to slapstick comedy and the fresh air of summer laced with crude simplicity.

All of sudden a Haruhi heard the unlocking of the door.

"Dad?" That's weird, why is he coming home at this time? Eh.

"No. It's—"the voice answered. It was male and sounded worrisome, someone used to charm and glitz. The voice contained insecurity and brevity, to such an extent that it seemed potentially dangerous. They had warned her about such dangers in her Feminine Defense class. Given that she had not slept in days, Haruhi's mental status became standoffish and irrational. Her adrenaline rushed, and her heart rate climaxed. IT'S A RAPIST! Oh God, I should've known. The landlady's been warning me and, and, well this is it, first, beat the crap out of him and then call the police! she thought. The young brunette took a hold of her frying pan and marched to the door. Without thought she saw a male silhouette, shapely, better yet rather scrawny, and relentlessly threw the frying pan to his face several times with insolent rage. He cowered in fear, hiding behind his arms.

"YOU PERVERTED, SICK, SCUMBAG!" Haruhi barked, saliva foaming at her mouth.

"WHAT THE FU—"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOME YOU PIECE OF—" Haruhi raised her left fist in the air as a gesture of malevolence. The figure made for the door, but she grabbed it by the neck collar.

"HARU—"

"You have no shame. You freaking son of a—"

"LISTEN!" The body pushed back against her and gently shoved her to the mahogany colored door.

"YOU CAN'T JUST GO INTO PEOPLE'S HOMES, YOU DIRTBAG. TRY AND RAPE ME AND I HAVE THE WHOLE LAW SYSTEM BEHIND ME. TOUCH ME AGAIN AND I SWEAR I WILL CHOP IT OFF" Haruhi struggled to push him down, as she was small framed herself. She grabbed the dusty mop leaning against the wall and held it up after the pan dropped with a clank! Out of her mind, she pointed to the butcher knife on the table, hoping it would magically rise to her defense.

It did not.

So she chose to headbutt him.

"Okay missy, just calm down, just calm down." The young man backed off, and revealed himself to her as he slowly backed from the apartment door. And she remembered the familiar bespectacled face from her high school years.

Haruhi found her head in the chest of Kyouya Otoori, and the moment became greatly awkward. A blush fell upon her face, for being presumptive and her remorse stretched infinitely.

"Oh dear. Senpai…" Her jaw dropped. "I AM SO SORRY!"

Kyoua grinned as a sign of sure friendship. That's odd. Kyouya never grins or acts this politely around his closer friends. My, my he looks different.

"Senpai? I uh, um, rape warnings, hahaha," Haruhi nervously chuckled with her hands behind her back. Mon dieu! Gosh, I haven't met him in years, and the way I greet him is by beating the senses out of him. Awkwaaaaard. "Sorry, haha."

"Please, call me Kyouya. It's okay, we're not colleagues anymore and I've stopped being that cold manipulative bastard," he chuckled. Kyouya sincerely smiled and offered her a gesture of kindness. "You put up quite a fight over there! My apologies for bursting in, but I had something urgent to tell you."

And so they stood at the door of the small apartment. Kyouya wore a pair of baggy jeans and a loose white dress shirt. His glasses were gone and despite his fatigue state, he was stunningly hot. His glazy onyx eyes sparkled, and everything about him was perfect. His perfect nose. His perfect hips. His perfect forehead. Haruhi was standing next to an incredible hunk, but she was not impressed. Not by his dumb seductive nature, that not unlike the immortals. She still had a creepy borderline feeling around him, after what he tried to do to her at the private beach. She had seen him half-naked once, and that was that.

"Wow. Is that really you Kyouya? You've changed so much. For one thing you're wearing regular clothes instead of those fancy Givanni's suits and designer clothes. Wow! That's great. You look tired, please come in." She shut the door and offered Kyouya a stool near the kitchen counter. He sat down with a polite demeanor robbing his slyness, yet Haruhi could not help but notice the paleness of his complexion.

"As do you. How much sleep have you been getting? Increased paranoia, hallucinations? I'm betting Ouran's Law School already accepted you, judging by the cleanliness of your apartment." The small apartment had three rooms, with the kitchen and living room connected. The house was cleaner, and Kyouya judged upon it with the knowledge of Haruhi's behavior towards anything else simultaneous to her studies.

"Ah, yeah. It's been a rough couple of years. So how are things going for you senpai?" Haruhi leaned her face, a sure sign of interest. Kyouya gritted his teeth, clearly annoyed that she did not comprehend to the point, a rather out of character behavior of her. Still, it was Haruhi Fujioka after all. She did not often observe the sentiments of others, let alone her own.

"Well. Things have happened. I'm now in medical school now. But—" Kyouya stopped, seeing that Haruhi had already prepared herself for a full response. He let out a groan.

"Really? That's fantastic! Was it difficult? I thought you were going to go after that Otoori empire or something—"

"Besides the fact that you're unbelievably chatty today…" Kyouya smoothly tapped his fingers on the table.

"—and all that stuff about your brothers, and their MBAs, aren't you going to do something about it?" Haruhi stopped and her brown orbs penetrated his now stone-cold onyx eyes. Haruhi reached for the remote on the counter and turned off the television set, as she offered Kyouya a drink.

"Haruhi, Tamaki was in a car accident, and the hospital officially announced him brain dead."

"Huh?"

A/N: Sad, eh? I've never really dealt with death myself so traumatically, but believe it or not, television really helps you understand humanity. Please review! I would really appreciate any comments and suggestions for the next chapter! I'm sorry if my writing's a little off tense and course, but this is what I managed to write after not tapping those keys for a while! Enjoy!

POLL: Does Kyouya look better with or without his glasses?