Disclaimer: I don't own Scrubs.

Blur

Chapter Fourteen

"Dan, what the hell was that?" I asked, my mouth wide open.

"Oh, hey Carly," said Dan, walking past me.

I growled, catching up to him and hitting him in the back with a patient chart. "Carla," I corrected him again. "And I asked you a question."

"Well, you obviously heard everything from standing five feet away, so what do you want to know?" he asked, getting right down to the point without any fluff added.

I looked at Dan, looked into JD's room. Looked over at Dr. Cox and 'Mrs. Andrews' standing awkwardly next to each other, both too stubborn to move. "Why…how come we never knew about it?"

"Because most people don't wear signs on their backs that say 'I was beaten by my mom's boyfriends' everywhere they go. Now, if you'll excuse me—"

"No, I won't," I said forcefully. "What's wrong with you? You're different. You're angry. I'd prefer the Dan from before, thank you."

He stiffened. "I just can't be like that right now. That's my brother in there. He's the only one who gets me, and he might not…I can't pretend it's not happening."

I realized that he was among the few who were rising to the challenge of JD's illness. Dr. Cox was too freaked to change his ways, but Dan wasn't. He was barreling right on through. Everything was turning out the opposite of the way I thought it would.

"I'm sorry," I said softly, seeing how hard I'd just been. "You're right. I'm sorry."

His eyes watered, his lips curling into a sad smile. "I'm not usually right about anything. I wish it didn't have to be this." An elevator arrived and he walked into it; he obviously had no clue where it was going, or even where he wanted to go, but I let him leave without a word. He'd redeemed himself to me. I'd never think of him the same way, hearing those words.

Then the shame hit. All this time I'd thought of him as the stereotypical slacker, the kid who would never grow up. I'd thought to myself, Why bother calling? It's not like he'll care. But who was I to think those things? JD and Dan, they had their differences and their arguments, but in the end they were brothers—a closer bond than anyone could share, even closer that mine and Turk's. They were stuck with each other from birth. I couldn't even imagine losing my brother Marco.

Suddenly the previous conversation came spilling back. I thought of JD as a kid, abused by men he hardly even knew. How was that right? And why didn't he ever say anything? I thought that abuse would be something a kid would carry with him his whole life, some sort of complex that everyone would be able to pinpoint. But JD had never said a word, never let on to his terrible past. I was sure Turk didn't even know, because he and I shared everything. I closed my eyes, trying to replay every memory of talking with JD, but there was never one hint that might lead me to the answer.

I was supposed to be the expert of advice. I was supposed to be the caring nurse who figured out people's problems before they even knew what they were themselves. I was supposed to be Carla, for god's sake, the woman the frightened interns flocked to on the first day when Kelso yelled at them! How could something that big have gotten past me?

And if JD had been abused without showing any signs of it, then who else? Maybe everyone has secrets I didn't know about. Maybe I wasn't as good at pinpointing problems as I thought I was.

I looked into Bambi's room, saw him lying on the bed motionlessly, and took a deep breath. Or maybe it was just some people were more than determined to hide anything about themselves that might make them different.

We were sitting in the doctor's lounge now, which was completely empty. I was off my shift, so I didn't feel guilty about sitting around—not, of course, that I ever would otherwise. "Mrs. Andrews," as she had introduced herself, had occupied herself with coffee from the machine; I was itching for a beer, but working in a hospital meant sacrifice.

"So what's he like now?"

"Huh?" I managed, coming out of my thoughts. I knew exactly what she was talking about, of course, but who was I to tell her what her son was like? Shouldn't she know?

"John. JD."

"I call him Newbie," I said to her as-a-matter-of-factly, "or Deborah or Annie or Susannah or whatever the hell pops into my head when I'm looking at him."

"I take it you're not too fond of each other, then," Mrs. Andrews said tartly, stiffening a bit at my response. She didn't get me quite yet. She didn't understand that I…okay, I guess I cared, but without actually caring at the same time. It was too complicated. She wasn't Carla or something. "Dan said he was happy here."

"He is," I said before I could stop myself. "I mean…if you really want to know," I continued uneasily, not sure if I wanted to begin a "deep" conversation with anyone today. "He's happy. Everyone likes him. He's like…I don't know, it bugs the hell out of me, but he's the kid."

"He's happy?" she echoed.

"He's weird," I corrected, not wanting her to get the wrong idea about how I felt. "Random. Sometimes I want to rattle his brain or crack his skull open because I don't know what the hell he's talking about, but maybe that's just me."

"He was…he was never really happy when he was a kid," Mrs. Andrews mused, looking into the coffee cup wistfully as if the years that had passed would return to her. Well, they wouldn't. I would know. All I wanted was for the past few days to rewind so I could diagnosis that damn disease right from the start, and Newbie wouldn't have to face months—maybe years—of physical therapy just to walk around. God only knew how long it would be before he could skip again.

"Really," I said doubtfully. "He's like a…I don't know. He's happy," I said for the tenth time in the past few minutes. "He coded today, you know. Pretty much died for a minute there. And you know what? I couldn't help but wonder what this place would be like without him. It's weird. I never give these things much thought—I'm a self-obsessed maniac with a chip on his shoulder, you see," I explained at her confusion. "But I think…I don't think that we could really go on without Newbie. He's always been there. Like alcohol and that sitcom you watch over and over again, he's always been there."

Tears were falling down her cheeks. "I can't even imagine what he's like, if what you've said is true. When he was younger…at least in front of me, he hardly even talked. This just doesn't make sense to me."

"Neither does your end of the story," I said, frowning. "Newbie, quiet for over ten minutes? The kid talks to himself sometimes, for god's sake. Never a dull moment."

And then I laughed. Because here I was—after all the pressure from Carla and the guilt-trips from everyone who knew Newbie—opening up to a complete and utter stranger. I knew why I was doing it, too. I knew that it was because whatever I had done to Newbie was nothing compared to what she had done to him, and that made me disgustingly happy. Someone was more guilty than I was. She couldn't judge me.

I felt a rush of relief, finally saying it aloud. It was true. I didn't know where I'd be if Newbie hadn't come into our lives. He reminded me why I wanted to become a doctor in the first place; to help people, not to make money like all those bastards (Kelso, cough, Kelso).

"You don't really hate him, do you?"

Her words felt like knives. "No, I don't hate him," I assured her. Did I act like I hated him?

Did Newbie think I hated him?

"I'm glad he's got someone on his side, then."

Yeah. And that someone wasn't me.

When I woke up, I felt something furry on my hand.

"Dude, we brought Rowdy," I heard Turk's voice.

Something wasn't right. Why did I feel…? Oh, god. There was a freaking tube down my throat. I gasped, but realized that I couldn't. With a feeling of dread, the obvious answer dawned on me—I was hooked up to a ventilator. Damn it.

"Is he waking up?"

It was Elliot this time; I'd know that voice anywhere. I resolved not to panic. I'd seen tons of patients panic before, and it was always a bother, anyway. Annoying patients, I'd think, always freaking out and leaving us to deal with them. Now I knew exactly how they felt. I wanted to rip the tube right out of my mouth.

Except I couldn't lift my arm up more than half an inch, I remembered with alarm. I opened my eyes. It was easier than it had been before, but I knew that the feeling wouldn't last long; they'd just start drooping again until they closed if I left them open long enough.

"Hey," Turk said quickly, "don't panic, man. It's just…uh…well, you know."

I tried to communicate my irritation through my eyes, and it worked somewhat, because Turk laughed in relief when I didn't spaz.

What had happened? Why did I feel like crap? I mean, worse than before, which was saying something all by itself.

"JD," Elliot said quietly, her voice shaking, "you coded a little while earlier while I was in the room with you."

I closed my eyes again, thinking back. She'd walked into the room to tell me something and I'd fallen asleep. And had nightmares…about when I was a teenager. I would have laughed if given the opportunity. It was so long ago. It didn't matter. Why had I…?

And then it hit me. I had coded. As in, my heart had stopped. I opened my eyes again with the realization, looking straight at Elliot sympathetically. It wasn't fair to her, what had happened. She was probably just scared walking into the room now, let alone talking to me.

I lifted two of my fingers, feeling Rowdy's furry nose.

"He missed you," Turk explained.

Elliot sighed. "I guess you already know you're on a ventilator. Surprise," she said with absolutely no enthusiasm in her voice. "There's more, too—"

"Elliot," said Turk warningly.

I tried to glare at him. I wanted to know what was going on. My eyes were practically screaming.

"I think his eyes are screaming," said Turk. He sighed submissively. "Go ahead and tell him."

Thank god for BFF connections.

"You've been diagnosed, JD…it's botulism."

My heart sank. I knew what it was without even thinking about it. I remembered doing a research paper in the beginning of med school and getting the highest grade in the class. If only that professor could see me now, basking in the irony of my life.

I was about to think how it couldn't get much worse when Elliot spoke again.

"And Dan's here."

That wasn't the bad part. I'd expected that. Something in me felt like he'd already been in the room with me.

"With your mom," Turk added.

…Oh.

Hey, anyone else doing NaNoWriMo? I'm SO close to 25,000 words it HURTS. Like, 500 words to go. OMG. I'm so happy. Last year I didn't make it, but this year--no siree, I'm not backin' out this time!

Anyways. Ten days until Scrubs season six premiere! I'm bugging everyone I know, even some people I DON'T know. I go up to strangers in the hallway and the swim team locker rooms and I'm like, "TEN DAYS UNTIL SCRUBS PREMIERES!" Some of them are like, "REALLY? OMG!! I LOVE SCRUBS! Did you see the episode where...?" But most of them are like, "WTF, random blonde kid, who the hell are you?"

I would get into my coolio car and drive away to avoid the utter embarrassment, 'cept I can't drive yet I don't have a car, lol (for good reason!!). Ugh I'm in Driver's Ed. It's harder than chemistry! It's harder than the college level history course I'm taking! IT'S SCARIER THAN SEX ED, and BELIEVE me, that was frightening enough (last year my bio teacher made us watch the video with the birthing scene on it...which she rewound three times to antagonise us in our misery).

Mmkay, I have to clean my room now. Byesies!