DISCLAIMER: Scrubs is owned by the fantastic Bill Lawrence and the ABC network (as of Season 8). I own nothing, except an overactive imagination and a fondness for angst, slash and men in white coats. This story began, and continued to be based on absolutely nothing until about halfway through, when I decided I should probably give it at least some sort of plot. It also remained untitled, until the final few lines, when I thought of the similarities between the character's thoughts and the song Cadence by Anberlin, and used their lyrics to give this story a title. They are referenced underneath the A/N.
AUTHORS NOTE: As written above, this is a product of pure randomness, boredom and the occasional idea that floated through my head. This is my first attempt at writing a story with any sort of intimate pairing, so I appreciate any and all feedback on how well—or how horrible—I have done with it. But that's enough of my insane ramblings. Without further ado, I give you My Parting Words. Enjoy!
Lyrics by Anberlin.
MY PARTING WORDS
And if these are my parting words,
Grant me this, my last request.
Hold me here, until I sleep—
If I burn, then I burn for you . . .
In a final act of desperation, he set his eyes to the stars.
They shone above him—twinkling, almost cruelly, as they enjoyed their front-row seats to the human cabaret playing out on the small, blue-and-green planet. As he watched them in abject silence, he imagined they were clapping—for his misery, or for someone else's happiness, he didn't know, but they were clapping. He could hear it, crashing against his ears, growing louder and louder as the hours rolled by.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
It was enough to make him crazy, but he pressed on. He endured. He listened.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Watching the stars clap in his own, imaginary universe meant that he could escape—from this, from life, from everything that had been going wrong, and from that one person that made it right but he wouldn't dare to think of. He knew the moment he thought this, however, that the real world would drag him back in.
And drag him back in it did.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
There were just so many things he didn't understand. Ever since he was small, he'd felt this compulsion, this need, for people—irrevocably and uncontrollably, like the air that he breathed. Not for the attention, not even for egocentric reasons, but just… because. It was something he'd never been able to describe, the same way he could never explain to people why he acted the way he did, or why he was perfectly okay with it . . .
Or why he managed to fall in love with that one person that would never love him back.
He blinked in surprise; mostly because he had so suddenly and so quickly discovered the root to all of his problems, lying there on the hospital roof. His blinding desire to have people in his life—this crawling, aching need for them—was torturing him day after day whenever he saw this person, simply because he knew that they were forever out of his reach.
And for some reason, knowing this only made it worse.
He strained his ears to listen.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Thing is, falling in love with them was something he could handle. He'd always been able to handle it in the past—watching from afar, letting his imagination whisk him away to some alternate reality where they somehow, in some way loved him back. It really wasn't surprising, anymore, this unrequited love. What was surprising was that he'd realized that he'd loved them all along and that, in itself, answered so many questions.
But raised a lot more.
Still, it wasn't the length of time he had lusted after them for (somehow without even realizing it—although, he had realized it, hadn't he?) or even the fact that he lusted after them at all. It was the one, simple fact that this person was different from all the others he had ever liked, and that he had absolutely no explanation for why he liked them. With the various crushes of his past, he'd always been able to identify one outgoing feature, one thing that made him love them overall. It was the one thing that made them who they were and, as a result, who he wanted to be with. But with this person . . .
"I've got nothing." He muttered, mostly to himself, but partly to the stars still clapping above him.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
He tore apart his mind, trying to find that reason, that trait. Despite how heavily it tugged at his heartstrings to do so, he forced himself to imagine that person's face in his head. He forced himself to bring to the surface every memory, every event, every pain, every delight, everything that had ever linked him to that person. He cast out his senses, searching through that overwhelming amount of information for the answer he so desperately needed.
He found nothing.
Everything he found—everything that even remotely represented the beginnings of the trail that would lead him to his answer—would just bring up more hardship. It would bring to the surface a billion more reasons why this person isn't the one for him, why he should not, for any feasible reason, have fallen in love with them. All roads led back to that one, infuriating question.
Why?
He buried his head in his hands in a failed attempt to block everything—and everyone—out. There was only so much he could handle, and the burden he carried wasn't one of them. It kept growing, getting heavier and heavier on his back, and it hurt. He couldn't handle loving this person unconditionally, without eve knowing why. He couldn't resign himself to his feelings, because he didn't know why he felt them in the first place.
All he knew was that he did, but just feeling it wasn't enough. He needed to know why.
He pressed his palms against his cheeks forcefully, rubbing his hands across his face. He felt like a complete wreck and wondered, half-heartedly, if the stars would clap for him now.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
They were still there, something that struck him as being both relieving and disturbing at the same time. He wondered why—there it was, that damn, infuriating word again—they were sitting up there, still, watching him. Where they cheering for him, or did they want him to be miserable—because he was an absolute wreck. He shut his eyes evanescently, to remove the image of the stars taunting him from his mind.
A rough voice awoke him from his stupor.
"JD?"
There was a hand that clasped his shoulder. He jumped, spinning around as he did so to let his eyes connect with the figure beside him. He found himself staring back at the one person that had inhabited his thoughts for so long, and damn well refused to leave them. He took in the image—hell, he took in everything around him. The shift in the atmosphere, the darkness of the night, the stars still clapping above him . . . and there they were. JD stood with his back against the ledge of the roof, feeling the deep-set concrete hitting the lower part of his back as he pressed into it. The figure next to him stood stock still, blue eyes locked into place with his own.
"Doctor Cox," he spluttered, "What are you doing here?"
The other man stepped back and away from him, only to fall into the path of the lights on the door behind them. His breath caught in his throat as they cast an almost ethereal glow across the other man's face.
So, so, beautiful . . .
Clap. Clap. Clap.
A million thoughts ran through his head right then, most of which the man in front of him would sneer at if he told him, alongside the occasional mention to how he was a little girl for thinking thoughts so feminine. Still, he lost himself in them, deciding that if he could never have the curly-haired doctor in front of him, then he'd always have his imaginary counterpart. He imagined tracing over every feature, every line and plane and angle of the face in front of him. He imagined kissing those lips, digging his fingers into the other man's broad shoulders, and smashing his body against him, trying to get as close as possible to his mentor's warmth as he—
"—Ya stupid idiot!"
His train of thought was shattered by the exclamation. He blinked in surprise at the older man, who was in the process of tapping his nose and crossing his arms over his chest—a sure sign that JD was going to get it. The younger doctor grimaced.
"Huh?"
The look he received in return was positively lethal.
"I said get the hell inside, ya stupid idiot," Cox growled. "It's freezing out here." Before he could construct any sort of reply, Doctor Cox moved swiftly from his place under the overhead lights, grabbed him by the arm and led him back towards the roof entrance. JD spluttered, still blinking in surprise at the current chain of events that was currently leading him towards the roof entrance.
"Doctor Cox, I—"
He stopped speaking abruptly as he was released. Doctor Cox stared at him, jaw clenching in anger—an action, of which, would normally give JD the heebie-jeebies, but for some reason just made the older man look more and more appealing, probably because of what was unfolding before his very eyes. "Oh . . . Oh my god."
Blue eyes locked into his and JD felt himself getting lost in their dark rivers. He knew that was corny, and made him sound like a teenage girl, but he didn't care. In the face of the knowledge that he had just acquired, none of that mattered anymore. His femininity, his issues, the world's issues—even the stars. Everything paled in comparison to what he had just learnt.
But they still clapped for him.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
There was a brief pause before Doctor Cox growled: "What the hell is it, Newbie?" He frowned slightly, in a manner that JD couldn't help thinking looked downright adorable.
"I—I've figured it out."
The cryptic answer gave him a much-deserved eye roll, but he knew the curiosity would get the better of the older doctor. He was right, a moment later, when Doctor Cox grunted: "Figured out what?"
"The reason why!" He blurted. Doctor Cox just stared at him.
"For gods sakes, Glenda, the reason for what?"
JD paused, realizing in that moment that he could never really tell the older doctor what he had just figured out. If he did, it would destroy their relationship, this fragile balance they had with one another. Still, he felt a little bit of the old intimidation he felt around his mentor return when Doctor Cox's frown grew deeper and the look in his eyes became strictly no-nonsense. What happened next, he couldn't control.
It all came out in a rush.
"ThereasonwhyI'minlovewithyou—" The younger doctor clapped his hands over his mouth, stunned. Doctor Cox's glare grew deeper for a moment, seemingly as he deciphered the rush of words that had poured out of his mouth. Then his mentor completely froze. He felt his heart stop beating in his chest as the anticipation of Doctor Cox's next move hit him full force. Oh, god . . .
"Excuse me?"
This was not good.
Still, in for a penny, in for a pound, as his mother's eccentric, British boyfriend used to always say. Sucking in his pride and deciding to hell with the remaining dignity he had, JD repeated the sentence, slowly.
"I figured out the reason why I'm in love with you."
He gulped, wishing that the floor would just open up beneath him and swallow him whole. Because there was no way that Doctor Cox would—
"What is it?"
"Huh?"
"What's the reason, Newbie?"
JD looked up. The look on Doctor Cox's face was indecipherable. It was completely deadpan, looking neither outraged nor amused. The older doctor regarded him emotionlessly, probably to pass judgment on whatever reason he came up with.
He took the plunge.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
"It's . . . everything." He began slowly as the reality of the situation smacked down on him full force. "Everything you do and everything you say, even if it only ends up in you pushing me away. Your brilliance as a doctor, and the way you're so quick to act and so confident, was what initially drew me in, but it was soon clouded by your personality. You may tell everyone you're an emotionally crippled narcissist and, really, you are, but I love that. I love your insults and your rants, because it gives me such a unique insight into your sharp wit and quick-mindedness. I love how you keep pushing me away, and how it only makes me want you more. When I see you, I see the one thing I want more than anything else in the world, and not because it's impossible for me to have you, but because you yourself are so impossible. Your reluctant praise means more to me than any declaration of love and your companionship, even just as colleagues, is worth more than any intimate relationship.
"For so long I wondered why it was that I could never identify that one thing about you that appealed to me above everything else, and that's because there isn't one thing. If there was only one thing about you that I adored, I wouldn't love you like I do. And I know that you'll probably just mock the shit out of me for this, or transfer the hell out of here and decide never to see me ever again, or suddenly stop speaking to me, but the truth is—I don't care. I don't care, because I figured it out. I finally figured it out and no matter what happens, no one can take that knowledge away from me. I'll still love you, even if it kills me . . . even if these are my parting words."
He was panting softly by the end of the speech, breathless from the stream of words that had flown out of him in such a rush. They just stared at one another for a long moment and despite his better judgment, JD really didn't feel scared. Whatever happened, he said what he needed to say, and he had no excuses and no regrets.
I have no excuses . . .
Doctor Cox stared at him wide-eyed for a prolonged moment before turning on his heel and retreating.
I have no regrets . . .
His vision grew blurry, his world becoming a blur of colors. Tears streaked down his face.
Even though he's leaving, and probably never coming back . . .
. . . I regret nothing.
Sobs ripped through his body as he was taken by one of the deepest anguishes he had ever felt, because it wasn't okay if he walked away. It really wasn't. But what the hell did he expect, anyway? For there to be some reciprocation?
"Of course not," he laughed, bitterly. "Of course not . . ."
"Of course not, what, Cassandra?"
JD didn't have time to feel any sort of surprise or happiness at the fact that he had returned because, in that moment, Doctor Cox muttered: "You know what, I don't care."
Then he pressed his lips to JD's.
And JD didn't even need to look up anymore, because the moment had him seeing stars of his very own.
The closer I come to you,
The closer I come to finding God—
You're a miracle to me . . .
AUTHORS NOTE II: Aaaaah! This is so fluffy; it makes me want to claw my own eyes out in the face of its extreme pink. You guys didn't seriously think I'd have Doctor Cox just walk away from him, did you? I'm horrible, but I'm not that horrible. I'm thinking of writing another chapter to this, or perhaps a different story, wherein we explore Doctor Cox's view of this story's events. But I don't know. I'm working hard on bringing out the next chapter of MY TRIGGER as soon as possible. Still, if this is well received and people actually enjoyed it, then I'll think about making an exception. Tell me what you think—did you like it? Hate it? Am indifferent?
-- Exangeline.