Here's the second chapter. Sorry that updates are taking a long time- I've been unbelievably busy with the whole college thing (argh). I love ChaoticPython, Graffiti2DMyHeart, Mew-Erenaa, Ruthybabe, Smudgie, Joker88, friend9810, and Phoenix4life. -Hugs-.
Drawing her knees up to her chest, Elliot began to sob. It had taken her foggy mind a moment to remember why she wasn't at work this morning.
She never knew that she was capable of crying so hard. Even after growing up with a mother constantly picking at her, until it seemed as though there was nothing left, always convinced that she wasn't pretty or thin enough. Having the fleeting thought of how the world might somehow be better if she didn't exist passing through her head. Somehow, this was so much worse. Elliot was convinced she was dying. She felt her weakened lungs constricting and deflating, her throat closing up. She was suffocating…and she didn't care. The doctor brought up her pajama covered knees closer to her shaking body, her tear stained face buried into the soft material.
Through the small space between her legs, her blurry eyes recognized the cordless telephone resting haphazardly on the coffee table. Had Turk and Carla found out yet? They must have. And even if they hadn't, she didn't want to be the person to tell them. The intensity of her sobs mounted as she imagined their reactions: Turk staring blankly at the wall, Carla weeping into her hands. Doctor Cox…what would he do?
A stray piece of blonde hair fell out of place and stuck to the side of her wet cheek. After years of giving bad news to patients' families, she finally realized at how they had felt. The unthinkable emptiness settling in the pit of your stomach, the agonizing pain and the emotional numbness mixing in your chest, threatening to tear you apart from the inside out. Her heart had sped up dangerously when she saw the flashing red and blue lights in front of the back entrance to the hospital.
Police are pushing her away, deaf to her pleas. She is straining her neck beyond its limitations to catch a glimpse of what has happened. The rest of the hospital staff is crowding around in fearful curiosity, whispering back and forth to each other. They are merely background noise to her. Through the hurried movement of uniformed men, she sees something being rolled out of the automatic sliding doors. The frenzied background noise stops immediately, the only sound is a cry of shock and disbelief that she vaguely recognizes as her own.
It is a stretcher, and the body's face is clearly visible before one of the policemen quickly covers it back up with a white sheet.
The muscles in her legs lose all of their strength before collapsing entirely beneath her. She doesn't even feel the skin on her palms scrape on the asphalt, or someone grabbing her arms to help her up. All she can focus on is the image of JD's lifeless face, his light blue eyes, so similar to hers, that were once filled with undeterminable amounts of hope and affection, now vacantly staring upwards at nothing.
That was all Elliot could see when she closed her eyes.
She didn't make any movement besides a tiny start when the phone's ring pierced the quiet stillness of her apartment. It continued its obnoxious call while Elliot kept her gaze fixated on the pattern on her pajamas. They were her old, worn out pair that she had had for years. Faded blue and purple bunnies danced around on the fabric, mercifully oblivious to the tragedy that had only just occurred days ago.
The answering machine beeped and a message followed the shrill noise. It was a man's voice, unfamiliar, hardened, and practical. When he spoke, his words were crisp and short. "Doctor Reid, this is Detective Dawson with the L.A. PD. My call is concerning the passing of John Dorian…"
Elliot subconsciously curled up tighter on the sofa.
"…with who I understand you knew personally. I know this is a difficult time for you, but I would appreciate if you came down to the precinct for a few hours when you are available. You may have some information that would prove useful in our investigation. Thank you for your cooperation."
The message ended with an abrupt click and Elliot was left alone again. She didn't want to talk to anyone. All she wanted was JD back.
She hugged herself helplessly as she tried to picture him in her mind; his goofy smile, his laugh.
Maybe if she did it well enough, he wouldn't really be gone.