A/N: Thanks for the awesome welcome back! We'll work through this together.
Raising a Hand
by LQ Aredhel
Chapter 18
Fun Fact: Eating too many Hot 'N Spicy Cheez-Its will give you a stomachache.
JD went through the next day in a daze. He was surprised when he woke up on Dr. Cox's couch, but he left when he heard his mentor stirring in the bedroom. He didn't want to be there when he woke up; he vaguely remembered breaking down in front of him, crying on the floor. Embarrassment stirred in his stomach, but he simply didn't have the energy to face what he was feeling. He just wanted to go home.
It was still early in the morning when he arrived at his apartment, but Turk was at the counter munching on some toast.
"JD! You went to Cox's last night?" The question sounded so normal, but JD could see the awkward curiosity and worry in Turk's expression. He nodded, carefully sitting on the other side of the counter.
They were both silent for a few moments; JD realized, too late, that Turk was looking at him, expecting some kind of explanation.
"Well, do you want me to make you something to eat?" Turk asked.
JD was about to shake his head no – he really wasn't hungry at all – but he hesitated, remembering his breakdown. Anger suddenly burst into him; what was wrong with him?! Was it so hard to have a normal conversation with his friend, to eat breakfast in the morning? He was overcome with the desire for things to go back to normal. That's what Dr. Cox had said, right? Let go of what happened and things will get better. It was possible to do this.
"Yeah," he finally answered, his voice rough from crying the night before. "I'll have some toast."
Turk didn't move, so JD looked to see his friend staring at him in shock.
"Seriously? You want me to make you toast."
JD nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, breakfast sounds good." In actuality, the smell of Turk's toast was making his stomach turn.
Turk just smiled enthusiastically and got up to get more bread. "So what did you do at Dr. Cox's place last night?" he asked.
"Um...," JD began. He could answer this without being a total idiot, right? We talked about how sucky our lives were...are. "We...hung out. Talked. You know, just the usual."
Turk snorted. "Yeah, just hanging out with the second most evil doctor at Sacred Heart. Just another night, right?" He was smiling and looked so happy. JD smiled back the best he could and frantically thought of something else to say.
"So...how is everyone at the hospital? How's work?"
Okay, that didn't sound too bad. Of course, mentioning the hospital made images of being dragged around the hallways in the middle of the night fly into his head...which made him feel even more sick...
"Same 'ol, same 'ol. I haven't really seen Elliot, though, since she's still stuck working the night shift. I heard she broke up with Keith. And you're never going to believe this! The Todd has a girlfriend. Do you want butter on your toast?"
JD swallowed thickly; he couldn't decide whether or not that would make it harder to eat, but Turk already had the butter and a knife out. "Sure."
Turk talked on about goings-on in the hospital, barely noticing as JD forced himself to eat one, then two bites of the toast. He put it down after that, hoping he wouldn't puke, and pretended to listen to Turk with rapt attention.
"Listen, I've got to get to work, buddy." Turk tossed his plate into the sink and grabbed his bag. "I'm glad you're feeling better." He gave JD a huge smile and left.
As soon as the door closed, JD pushed away the plate of almost two pieces of buttered toast and leaned forward, holding his head up with his hands.
That wasn't so bad, was it? God, he felt like he was going to puke. He wandered into his room and scooted onto his bed, laying back to stare at the ceiling.
He hadn't had any dreams the night before. That was a good sign right? His breakdown last night, it was just a fluke; things were getting better in his world. He tried not to think about the look on Dr. Cox's face when he couldn't answer that stupid question. What did it matter why Daniel did what he did? He was gone now anyway.
But it had felt so important last night. It was just...it was the one image that he could see forever perfectly clear like it was happening that moment: the instant the knife turned toward him and moved in like...
JD turned onto his side and pulled his knees up to his chest.
It was stupid to think about it. Dr. Cox said he wouldn't ever forget what happened, but he could move on. That's what he should concentrate on doing now; moving on. It would be easier when he went back to work, when he had something to do with his time instead of laying around the apartment for days on end. He thought about calling Dr. Kelso and asking about going back. He needed at least six weeks for his ribs, and it had been four. He could go back soon.
He could do this. All of it. He could eat breakfast in the morning and dinner at night. He could talk with Turk or Carla or Elliot without saying anything stupid or making them give him strange looks. He could go back to work and analyze, diagnose, and treat patients one after another just like he used to. He could do all of it again.
He could pretend that everything was fine, that he was happy with the world around him, and that he didn't miss the way things were because things were horrible with Daniel. JD knew that. Being with him was horrible. Watching closely in case something he said caused a fist to raise was horrible, waiting for that moment in the night when he would have to give up his control of himself, of the entire situation, was terrifying each and every time. Drinking as fast as he could before that point for fear of being too aware of what was happening was horrible.
What he didn't understand was why this felt worse.
It didn't matter. Daniel was gone for a long time, and as much as JD missed him, he wasn't sure what Daniel would do if he ever saw him again. Judging by how he was acting the last time they were together...
JD absentmindedly ran his hand over his side, feeling the light bandage that was still in place, covering the gash he'd received that time. It brought him back to the same question that Dr. Cox was so completely unable to answer the the night before.
He hadn't wanted to kill JD. He couldn't have. He'd dragged JD's body to the hospital, saved his life, only weeks before. Then why did he do it? What possible reason--.
No, it didn't matter. He shouldn't even be thinking about it, because he was going to move on.
JD was pulled from his thoughts by a knock on his bedroom door. Assuming that Carla must be back from her shift, he was shocked when he opened it to find Daniel smiling politely at him.
And for all the wishing he'd done that Daniel was still with him, the sight of him only made JD freeze in fear, his mind screaming for him to get away as though Daniel had done something, anything, more than simply smile at him. He didn't want Daniel to see him here, in his bedroom, knowing what thoughts would be running through his head. JD backed away from the door. Daniel lifted a gun and aimed it at his forehead.
JD jerked himself awake with a cry, wide eyes staring at his open bedroom door.
Must have dozed off, he figured, wiping the sweat off of his face and trying to slow his breathing. It was no big deal, he had nightmares all the time. This one wasn't even that bad; Daniel hadn't laid a hand on him.
It took several minutes for his breathing to slow.
He sat up and wiped his face again, whispering curse words to himself as though they'd make what just happened mean less.
When the door to the apartment suddenly opened, JD almost fell off of his bed. He scrambled to his feet and hid behind his bedroom door.
"JD?" a female voice asked curiously.
JD let out a huge sigh, and, feeling like a completely idiot, wandered into the living room where Carla was setting down her things from work.
"What were you doing in your room?" she asked. JD just forced and smile and shrugged. It was harder to talk to Carla than Turk; Carla knew things. Carla's voice became low and careful when she spoke to him, like she was afraid that she would scare him away.
"I was just getting some exercise," he explained quietly, trying his best to keep the smile on his face. "Just getting used to moving around again, you know, with the..." He gestured to his side where they both knew there would be a scar forever. JD hadn't noticed it before, but he then realized that springing to his feet when the door opened had caused his ribs to ache like they hadn't in weeks.
"Oh, well you know it's really nice out," Carla told him. "We could go for a walk or something if you'd like."
JD hesitated. He really didn't want to leave the apartment. He just wanted to lay back down on his bed and try to figure out how to get through today and tomorrow and the day after that. But taking a walk would be a good 'normal' thing to do, right?
So JD agreed, even as the anxious black hole in his stomach rose again. What was he so afraid of anyway? It was just a walk right?
A few minute down the street, Carla said, "Turk said that you spent the night at Dr. Cox's last night. Did anything happen?"
His mind spinning, JD stopped walking and looked at her. She stopped and turned to him, avoiding his eyes.
"What?" he asked, unable to comprehend what she was asking. She suddenly looked really guilty.
"Well, I don't know, just, did anything happen?" she repeated as though it would help.
JD felt dizzy, his mind franticly looking for some kind of explanation for the question. What was she implying? Did she mean did they – that couldn't be right, why would she ask that.
Meanwhile Carla stared back at him, looking more and more uncomfortable. She finally broke through the silence: "Look, forget I asked. It's no big deal, you know." She turned and continued walking down the street, stopping and turning back when she realized that he wasn't following her.
"What's not a big deal?"
She rolled her eyes, but still didn't meet his. "That you and Dr. Cox are...you know...together."
He just stared at her. She really believed what she was saying.
"I'm not blind, you know," she reminded him, stepping closer. "He's so protective of you, and after what the man who-- after what Daniel said when they were fighting...well, it wasn't that hard to put it all together."
"Carla, it's not like that."
She just shook her head and said, again, "Don't worry about it. I mean, you should hear the stories Elliot tells me about experimenting in college." She chuckled awkwardly. "I mean, I should have seen it sooner. You spend most nights at the guy's house and come to work looking exhausted, and--" She finally looked at him, and paused. "JD don't worry about it! So you like guys. I just never expected that Dr. Cox--"
"No, I don't," JD muttered, looking away. He wanted to be back in the apartment. Why had he agreed to come out here? There was nowhere to go to get away.
"JD, it's not like I can't tell what's going on--"
"I really don't Carla," he said, looking her in the eyes. He looked away quickly when flashes of long, drunken, painful nights felt so apparent in front of his eyes. He tried to laugh, make light of the situation so that she would see how ridiculous it was to even assume...
"JD, what--?"
He turned around, realizing that he'd started crying again, started goddamn crying on the fucking sidewalk for no reason at all.
"God, I'm sorry," he muttered, quickly wiping his eyes and turning back around. He forced a smile and continued, "It's really not like that. Dr. Cox and I just talked, that's all."
She looked down. "You lied about the bruises."
His hands were shaking. The entrance to the apartment building was only a couple of blocks away. He could make a run for it.
How stupid would that look! It's just a conversation; reassure her now and you'll never have to have it again.
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, Carla." He really was. He just wished that she'd forget about it already.
"How do I know you're not lying about this?"
He was surprised. She looked concerned, worried about what he would say or wouldn't say, about what he was hiding.
He wasn't hiding anything. Everything was back to normal!
So he just smiled. "I'm going to head back now. I'm pretty tired."
She didn't say anything and she didn't try to stop him. He made it all the way back to the apartment and fell face first onto his bed.
He couldn't do this. It was too hard. There was too much dirt and too much pain inside of him to push away and ignore, too much for him to do things stupid things. He couldn't even take a walk with his friend without fucking up!
God, what does it even matter? It wasn't normal to lay in bed all day, to be afraid of talking in case something true came out. He just felt tired and empty and that stupid hole was still enveloping his stomach, why couldn't it all just go away? It would be so much easier if it would all go away, if he could just fall asleep and fucking stay asleep and never have to feel this cold and empty and alone.
What's wrong with me?
JD pushed himself off of his bed and closed his bedroom door. Carla hadn't returned yet; he vaguely wondered what she was doing at that moment. Still standing on the sidewalk, wondering what was going on. It would be best if she never knew, right? He could end it now and not have to worry about it.
He paced his room, not noticing the pain in his ribs that hadn't yet gone away or the stinging in his side from his jerking movements. He considered leaving: hopping on his scooter and never coming back. He considered the pain medication in his nightstand that he never used because the pain helped keep him awake. Pain pills would be the easiest; just take a handful and lay down on the bed and it's over. The drawer full of steak knives would be too messy, too painful, he didn't want that, just wanted to go to sleep.
He grabbed the pills from the drawer.
His hands were shaking worse than before and he couldn't figure out why. This was the ultimate solution, the only way that they wouldn't find out what happened, or if they did no one would care because JD wouldn't have to be there, wouldn't have to sit through the embarrassment and shame.
He looked down at the two dozen white pills in the palm of his hand.
It's not so hard, he told himself. Swallow them all at once.
He took a deep breath, then another, imagining the feeling of the chalky pills going down his throat.
"FUCK!" he screamed, throwing the pills across the room and continuing to pace.
What's wrong with me, why can't I do it?
He shook his head, he couldn't even figure out what was going on in his own head! He couldn't even take his own fucking life!
JD slammed his bedroom door open to an empty apartment. He grabbed Carla's phone from the counter and stared at it, daring himself to dial the same number two days in a row. Then he put it back on the counter and closed himself back in his room.
He sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands and stared at the pills scattered across the floor.
I don't think I want to die.
I don't know.
He buried his head in his hands. "I don't know!"