A/N: This is an early chapter in honor of all of your fantastic reviews, particularly those from Bob and Me, Moi, et Je.

To Bob: interesting idea, I'd never thought of that! I'm not sure if I'll write it any time soon, but it's definitely in the back of my head now. What would happen?

To Me, Moi, et Je: Sorry this wasn't loaded after your nap. Unless, you're still sleeping...?

Thanks again!

Fun Fact: Loth has been watching way too much Psych; she keeps getting flashes of Dr. Cox shoving Shawn Spencer up against a wall and ravishing him. It's shocking.

Raising a Hand

by LQ Aredhel

Chapter 19

"Dr. Dorian, I know that you've been through a pretty traumatic experience. Our main goal right now is to get it out in the open, get you talking about it so that it doesn't affect your work, alright?"

JD nodded, nervously tapping his fingers against the side of the couch. "It's JD. You can call me JD."

"Okay, JD. Let's get started." Dr. Rice adjusted in his seat and glanced down at the clipboard on his lap. "I've read the police report and talked to Dr. Kelso about what happened, but I'd like you to go through it with me. I'd like to get your perspective on the whole night."

JD cleared his throat. "Uh, well it all happened pretty quick actually." That was a lie; it felt like it had taken forever to get to the first floor, and the knife had gone in in slow motion. "Daniel woke me up and had me get out of bed and follow him to a staircase in an unused part of the building." He'd yanked him from the sheets, shoved him against a wall, fury in his eyes. "When we got to the nurse's station on the first floor, he put a knife against my neck as a warning and took me to the admissions room, but there were too many people there." 'We're leaving,' lacking any confidence; Daniel hadn't believed they'd be able to leave, what would he have done? Would he have given up if Dr. Cox hadn't charged through the door at that moment?

"Dr. Cox came in, and Daniel tried to get people to back away so that we could leave." Dr. Cox hadn't moved, just glared back at Daniel, fury meeting fury while white noise buzzed through JD's ears at the surreality of the situation. "But then a radio went off. A police officer said that the entrances were all covered, that we couldn't escape." "Fuck!" The scream had shocked him, so close to his ear.

"We?"

JD jerked his head up; he'd forgotten that Dr. Rice was still listening intently. And he'd screwed up again.

"Well, he was trying to take me with him, so..."

Dr. Rice nodded, making a note on his clipboard, his face blank. "Go on."

"Um." Just finish it without screwing up. "Daniel moved the knife away from me, a little, and Dr. Cox ran up. To grab it, I guess." And he'd watched the knife, as the whole rest of the world stood still, twist around toward him. "Then Daniel s-stabbed me, and I fell down." Dr. Cox and Daniel twisted in the air above him, grappling for the knife as deep red liquid dribbled down the front of JD's scrubs and down onto the linoleum floor.

There, that was it. He looked up confidently at the psychologist, waiting for some kind of confirmation of his success.

Dr. Rice glanced up only briefly from his clipboard before asking, "And how did that make you feel?"

JD just stared at him. "How did what make me feel?" Being kidnapped, Dr. Cox trying to save him?

"Being stabbed." Dr. Rice clarified much to JD's dismay.

"It felt like a giant paper cut," JD responded, surprised to feel so frustrated so quickly.

Dr. Rice looked up, amusement in his eyes. He put down the clipboard and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "I know that seemed like a stupid question. How does anyone feel after being stabbed in the side? Probably bad." JD snorted, leaning back on the couch and away from the man. "I would actually like for you to clarify how you felt, emotionally, at that moment." He settled back in his chair. "I understand that you and Mr. Jackson were friends before the incident."

JD nodded, trying to clear his face and mind of any emotions that would give him away. "Shocked. I just felt shocked."

"That he would do that to you? Because he was your friend?"

"Yeah." He watched the knife twist around again, Dr. Cox only feet away in the corner of his eye. "I thought he was going to stab Dr. Cox. But the knife turned at the last second."

"What happened after you fell?"

Fighting, wrestling over a kitchen knife, bright red liquid. "Dr. Cox got the knife from him. I don't really remember much. He got some minor cuts from it."

"What happened to Daniel?"

JD shrugged; he could only see an image of Daniel's furious eyes grappling with Dr. Cox, the knife extended far above their heads. "I guess he got arrested. He's in jail."

"How do you feel about that?"

He tried to smile nonchalantly; this was a tough one. He ignored the twisting in his gut, screaming that he was the one who put Daniel there, the one who destroyed his life. "He was my friend, so...I guess I feel bad for the guy. But he deserved it, right?" Okay, that may have come out a little too needy.

Dr. Rice was looking at him intently. "What do you think?"

JD shrugged again. He didn't know what to think about it. "I don't know." This was getting too close, he wanted desperately to change the subject. Dr. Rice seemed to read his mind and obliged.

"I understand that what happened that night must have been terrifying," he said, meeting JD's eyes steadily; he really did look concerned, JD thought. "Being betrayed by your best friend, held captive in front of your coworkers, and being hurt like that by someone you trusted: it may have seemed quick, but there can be lasting effects of something so stressful: nightmares, anxiety, depression. It's important that we talk about not only what happened that night, but about the things that have happened since then, about how you feel now and how you've been affected. Do you understand?"

JD nodded. "Yes." God, what was he getting himself into?

"Great. I'll inform Dr. Kelso that you've started therapy. We can meet twice a week to start if that's works for you."

"Sure." He had nothing else to do. "Will I be able to go back to work in two weeks?" That was the reason why he was there, of course. That and the overwhelming need to talk to someone...someone he didn't know, who wouldn't judge him and couldn't ever tell anyone what he said. It was perfect.

Dr. Rice sort of nodded. "We'll see how the next couple of sessions go, but as far as I can tell you'll be fine to get back to work." JD stood with him and they shook hands.

As he walked back to his apartment – Dr. Rice's office was only five blocks away – JD felt relief wash over him. It hadn't been that bad. He had to admit that when Dr. Kelso first called to inform him that he was required to undergo therapy after the hostage incident before returning to work, he had panicked. He was so horrible at talking without giving anything away, he was sure he'd be committed. Especially after the night...

It had taken hours to calm himself down enough to retrieve the scattered white pills; each one was so tiny, so difficult to grasp between his shaking fingers, but he didn't want Turk or Carla to see what he had done. It was a testament to his weakness, his inability to deal with his own life. And his inability to do anything about it.

But he'd cleared them away, left no evidence, and passed out on his bed for the first full night of sleep he'd had in weeks. Kelso had called the next day.

His first session was over, and he hadn't let anything slip. The relief felt all the sweeter because of his sick and afraid he'd felt while actually in the session. Things were looking up.

Turk was in the kitchen making a sandwich when he arrived home.

"JD!" he greeted, smiling. "Hey man, you've got some stuff on the counter. Where've you been?"

JD felt his face blush. Right, he hadn't told anyone about starting therapy. It just sounded...bad. "Just out getting some air." Turk seemed to accept it.

He wandered into the living room and his eyes fell to the two items on the counter. His cell phone and his wallet.

JD swallowed thickly. The last time he'd seen those things, he'd been...

"Where did you get these?" he asked quietly. He looked up to see Turk pause, suddenly serious.

"Well," Turk began, turning to him. "Some police officers brought them over right after I got home. They said they went through what's-his-name's apartment for the trial and found them, said they didn't need them."

"The trial?" JD repeated, his mind far away.

"Yeah, I guess it's in a couple of weeks." Turk resumed making his sandwich.

"I never spoke to the police," JD realized out loud. "They never asked me for a statement or anything."

Turk sat on the other side of the counter. "Yeah. The police were at the hospital for a while after you got...you know... But Dr. Cox wouldn't let them talk to you, and I guess they had enough witness reports to charge him anyway."

JD nodded, his stomach heavy with guilt. He glanced up to see Turk looking at him oddly. Suddenly JD remembered his talk with Carla, her accusations, assumptions.

"You don't believe...," he started, something in his brain screaming at him to let it go, to not start this conversation with Turk. "You don't believe the rumors, do you?"

Turk looked surprised. He hadn't touched his sandwich. He looked JD in the eyes and said, "I believe whatever you tell me, JD."

JD froze; there was so much trust in Turk's eyes; Turk was so afraid of what he would say next. Hell, JD was just as afraid of what he'd say.

"Dr. Cox and I...we're just friends."

And there was relief in Turk's eyes, and he was smiling and JD realized that he really did believe him, 100. He didn't need to explain anything more, didn't need to reason away any of his actions. Turk trusted him completely. It felt so good that JD felt like he was going to cry.

JD smiled back at him, and he didn't even have to force it.

"Not like I would care," Turk reminded him. JD laughed, knowing that that was true as well. "It's just easier this way."

JD hesitated. "Could you tell Carla?" he asked. Maybe Turk could convince her. "She really thinks that...you know. And she said some things that..." God, he couldn't even finish. "I don't like guys."

Turk nodded, still smiling. "Yeah, I'll talk to her, man. She just doesn't understand guy love."

"It's sad really."

"Yeah it is."

They both laughed, and Turk ate his sandwich while JD went through his wallet to make sure everything was there. His phone was dead, so he plugged it into the wall next to the counter and turned it on to see if he had any missed calls. It felt weird to have it again, to worry about people contacting him outside of the apartment.

When Turk was finished eating, he gave JD a giant bear hug, which made JD stiffen at first at the physical contact, but he quickly relaxed and hugged back.

"I hate to leave you, man, but I gotta hit the gym. I've been putting it off for the last couple of weeks."

JD nodded. Probably because of me.

"Do you wanna come with?" Turk asked, surprising JD. He never used to offer.

"Uh, no, I don't think it'd be good for the..." He gestured lamely at his side. He really didn't want to leave the apartment again, it was too risky. Once a day was enough for now, he figured.

"I'll see you later, Vanilla Bear," Turk grinned at him.

JD grinned back. "Later Chocolate Bear."

After Turk left, JD remembered his phone. He had two missed calls and messages. Both were from the county jail.