A/N: Thanks for the warm welcome back! I sooo appreciate the love!

500,000 points go to Sock Fiend for picking up a language for me. That's devotion.

Spartan - let it all out. I've cried in public libraries because of . It's all good.

YYWT - Sorry, never played those games. But I have read My Innocent Bystander, it was wonderfully full of whumpage. ^_^

Fun Fact: This chapter was written in in hostels and bullet trains in and between Kyoto, Osaka, and Tokyo, Japan.

Raising a Hand

by LQ Aredhel

Chapter 27

This is ridiculous, JD thought as he slumped against the wall just inside the room of a coma patient. He was only three hours into his twelve hour shift and he was already exhausted. Spending the last six weeks laying around his apartment had not done his body good, added to the fact that he barely slept the last few nights and only really ate when Carla or Turk cooked and watched him eat. He just never felt hungry, and when he slept he had those stupid nightmares, so what was the point?

JD stood up straighter. Oh yeah, energy. Of course, that was the point of eating and sleeping. Now he had the easiest shift imaginable (9 a.m. to 9 p.m. on a Monday), and it was still beating the crap out of him. At least he hadn't seen Dr. Cox yet; the older doctor had the exact same hours as him, so it was unlikely that they had simply missed one another; Dr. Cox was avoiding him.

This only added to JD's exhaustion; he knew that as soon as Dr. Cox finally did confront him, he would be angry. The combination of standing too long and being so alert waiting for Dr. Cox to finally show up and finally say something that will break him down completely (and it could be anything, he knew, practically anything his mentor said would have that effect) and just knowing that it was coming and dreading it made JD dizzy, forcing him to lean against any solid surface he could find as soon as he was alone. He was fortunate it was so slow and that he was assigned fewer patients than normal because he'd been gone so long. It was all he could do to spend a few minutes at a time glancing through charts and double and triple checking that he didn't screw things up with the patients he did have.

At least Carla and Turk seemed to have gone back to normal. They no longer babied him, just talked to him like they used to. After they found out that JD was already in therapy, they seemed to assume that he was all better again. Except for cooking him the occasional meal (if you could call baking a frozen pizza cooking), they acted like they did before everything happened. It was nice to be left in peace, at least at home.

JD leaned against the nurse's station, glancing through the chart of the next patient he would visit. Many people were at lunch now, so he noticed immediately when Dr. Cox came barreling down the hall. JD's vision swam, his heart racing, and it took him a moment to see that Carla was leading Dr. Cox by the arm, and that his face was full of reluctance...and they were coming right toward him.

Tightly gripping the edge of the counter, JD stood his ground as they approached and Carla gave Dr. Cox one last shove in his direction before wandering back down the hall. She'd had that 'I'm-taking-care-of-you-bambi' smile on her face, but how often has that meant something good?

JD glanced at Dr. Cox to see him glaring maliciously at him, and he swayed where he stood. Attempting nonchalance, JD took hold of the counter with his other hand as well and hoped that Dr. Cox was too angry to notice his weakness...and that he himself was too dizzy to hear whatever his mentor wanted to tell him. He just didn't think he could take it at that point.

"Look newbie...," -- looked like his hearing was, unfortunately, fine -- "I shouldn't have hit you. I mean, I should have never, but ... I mean, especially under the circumstances...." JD glanced up again in surprise; Dr. Cox still had that angry glare, but he was also obviously nervous, shifting from foot to foot and focusing more on the floor and ceiling than on JD.

"That was pretty much the worst possible thing I could have done and I did it...of course I did it. I just get so frustrated!" He clenched his jaw and his fists and JD's heart skipped a beat and he felt his fingers go numb from gripping the counter. But Dr. Cox became quiet again, "You just remind me so damn much of --" He stopped and shook his head, grimacing heavily, "of myself when I was a kid," he bit out. "Okay? So how about we just play nice from now on, huh? You don't rouse my horrific childhood memories and I won't throw anymore punches. We both move on with our lives like this never happened, don't we? There's a good boy."

JD was so shocked that he didn't even flinch when Dr. Cox roughly ruffled his hair and brushed past him. He was surprised to find himself turning to ask Dr. Cox out to a beer or something (to prove that he could be normal), but turning too fast made his head spin and the world tilt. By the time he could focus again, the hallway was empty.

He slowly forced himself to accept what had just happened. He'd figured if anyone could hold a grudge against him about what happened, it would have been Dr. Cox. But if even he could forget, then there really was hope for JD.

He unclenched his fists from the edge of the counter and took several deep breaths. Okay, it was time for coffee. Promising himself that he would ask his mentor out for a beer later, JD forced his feet to take him to the cafeteria where he stops in his tracks.

There, sitting comfortably around a four-top was Carla, Turk and Elliot, drinking, eating, laughing, enjoying themselves, and fully adjusted to his absence. JD turned slowly turned around and left, deciding to have some coffee in the break room. He didn't want to bother them, or to make them uncomfortable. It was easier this way. He didn't need them swarming him anyway, inviting him to do things and go places. JD was happy with just being left alone. He just had to prove, first that he was fixed.

JD managed to make it through the rest of his shift with a the help of a half-hour power nap and a lot of coffee and he was both nervous and happy to find Dr. Cox in the locker room afterwards.

He sat on a bench and cleared his throat, causing Dr. Cox to visibly wince. JD hesitated; was it worth it to ask and be shot down? He was shaking with exhaustion, but he didn't want to go home, not yet. He had to do this.

"Hey Dr. Cox," he began, his voice rough after hardly using it all day. "If you don't have anything better to do, maybe we could...go get a beer or something...." His voice sort of trailed off at the older doctor's withering glare, but JD maintained eye contact with him, hoping that he would see how much he need him to say yes.

Finally his expression softened and he looked JD up and down. "You sure you're up for it?"

JD nodded enthusiastically, hoping that he didn't look too much like he felt. Hell, even if he did go home he wouldn't sleep.

"Alright."

That one word was like magic to JD; he felt some of his exhaustion lift in excitement that his mentor had actually accepted his invitation. Things really were turning around!

After dressing in street clothes and gathering their things, the two men walked to a local bar near the hospital and JD ordered a beer while Dr. Cox began downing shots of something really strong-smelling. JD realized halfway through his beer that while Dr. Cox apologized for hitting him, JD had never apologized for all the things he said about Dr. Cox trying to ruin his life. He almost brought it up, but figured that they were both supposed to be ignoring things like that. Besides, Dr. Cox didn't seem mad at him anymore; in fact, he was talking on and on about hockey, something JD knew little about but didn't mind listening to.

Two beers later, JD's exhaustion was lifted, but his dizziness had been multiplied tenfold. He vaguely noted that he was the one talking now, rambling on about Turk and Carla and how they made him eat when he didn't want to and the fact that coffee was the best thing ever created because it made everything more normal. Once in a while Dr. Cox broke in saying something weird and JD realized that he must have been drunk because he could no longer follow the conversation.

Finally, Dr. Cox said something about calling him a cab and JD's focus returned.

"No, no, don't do that," he said, his hand somehow finding it's way to Dr. Cox's shoulder. "I don't want to go back there, not yet, I don't need to go home. I don't want to see them when they've gone so far ahead of me!"

Dr. Cox was on his cell phone, seemingly barely listening to him, then pulling him out the door of the bar and shoving him into a cab. At first JD was afraid that the cab was going to take him to his apartment, but then Dr. Cox practically fell into the other side, tripping on the edge of the door and shouted at the driver to take them to the older man's apartment. JD felt a weird sense of peace wash over him, and a distant memory bubbled up of when Dan used to bring him soup when he was sick, pretending to be reluctant and saying that it was from mom even though they both knew that mom wouldn't have thought to make soup.

The next thing that JD was aware of was warmth radiating through him from nearby. He opened his eyes slightly then closed them again when a the bright light of a TV shone back at him. He slowly realized that he was laying on his stomach on a couch and just above him (he was practically on top of it) was a leg. JD felt almost unfamiliar comfort wash over him and, still dazed from drink and sleep, lifted a hand to the leg and patted it, perhaps in thanks, and sighed deeply.

But then Dr. Cox grumbled something above him and swipe his hand away, and suddenly he could hear a sitcom blaring on the television and the brightness of it didn't seem so far away.

JD sat up, swaying slightly but in a pleasant, warm way. He glanced at Dr. Cox, who was lounged deep in the couch and staring blearily at the TV, obviously still drunk. JD felt himself smile as he scooted over on the couch and leaned against the older man's side, nuzzling his head into Dr. Cox's neck and shoulder.

He had just began drifting off again when he heard and felt Dr. Cox speak.

"What're you doing?"

His voice was rough and tired and failed completely at sounding annoyed or angry. And JD simply couldn't think of a better response than, "You're comfy," so that had to do.

Dr. Cox was silent for a while and JD recalled something as he was floating between sleep and wake.

"Human comfort," he said carefully into Dr. Cox's neck. He couldn't hear the TV anymore, but little lights were dancing in front of his eyelids so he decided it must still be on.

"Huh?" Dr. Cox finally replied, his whole body moving slightly with his voice.

JD lazily considered for a few minutes before responding once again with the only thing he could come up with.

"Everyone needs a little human comfort," he whispered. Yeah, that makes sense. He couldn't make himself think hard enough to remember where he heard it, but it fit perfectly.

JD nuzzled further into the crook of Dr. Cox's neck and sighed deeply, causing Dr. Cox to shudder. He waited, breathing slowly, for his mentor to do something (he wasn't sure what). But Dr. Cox just stiffened under him, almost seemed to stop breathing, and took no action. So JD let go and fell back asleep.

When JD woke again to sound of heavy breathing and felt the familiar heaviness of an arm flung across his shoulder, his chest tightened before he could even open his eyes. His heart began to race and his breathing sped up and all he could think about was that Daniel found him again. He opened his eyes to see a wide, masculine chest in front of his face, moving in and out and, along with the arm, shadowing the morning light from him. JD started crying; unable to think clearly, his head pounding and his stomach swirling, he only felt despair wash through him over and over and over again, constricting his lungs so he couldn't breathe even to cry out. He'd never wanted so badly to die.

He couldn't see for the tears, but with shaking hands JD was able to slowly remove the arm from his shoulder and set it between his body and Daniel's. Then he slowly rose, biting back the urge to throw up right then and there, and climbed along the couch to the opposite end and carefully climbed over the edge.

He was so tired, so dizzy, so cold. He sat against the end of the couch until he felt like he could move again, his sobbing finally under control, and then crawled along the carpet. He soon realized that he was in Dr. Cox's apartment...he couldn't recall how he'd come there. No, the only memories at the forefront of his mind were those of the last time that he and Daniel were in this apartment, of Daniel tying his hands to the bathroom doorknob and attempting to take him there in front of Dr. Cox. It seems he'd finally succeeded.

JD finally made it to the bathroom and shut the door silently behind him. He crawled over to the toilet and heaved, but only a small amount of coffee and beer came up. Of course, there was nothing else in there; he hadn't eaten in a few days.

Finally calmed enough to slow his own breathing, JD leaned against the bathroom wall and considered his situation. First he mentally swept his body in search of injuries. There didn't seem to be any. He pulled himself up to stand before the mirror above the sink to see if he was bleeding from the head; a concussion would explain his headache.

He saw only his normal face completely paled...and he was wearing clothes.

He was wearing clothes. Of course. And the beer, he'd thrown up beer. He had a hangover, not a concussion. He sat himself back on the floor.

He'd only had two beers, he remembered now. He'd asked Dr. Cox to go to the bar with him, and then he'd had two beers.

And nothing to eat.

JD felt like an idiot. Daniel was in jail. He was at Dr. Cox's house after drinking with him. Then why had they been laying together on the couch? That had never happened before.

Feeling foolish, JD attempted to stand and go back into the living room to prove to himself that it was Dr. Cox on the couch and not Daniel. But his legs wouldn't hold him. He plopped back down onto the floor, still somehow exhausted.

"Newbie?" Dr. Cox's gruff voice came from the hallway followed by a knock on the door. "Come on, Newbie, I've gotta piss."

JD took a few deep breaths before answering, "Just a minute," but his voice still sounded feathery light. What the hell was wrong with him?

He heard his mentor grumble and his footsteps moved down the hall before JD attempted to stand again. He pulled himself up by holding onto the sink and carefully slid his feet to the door. He braced himself on the wall as he opened the door and pulled himself out of the bathroom.

Dr. Cox was standing at the end of the hall, arms crossed, hair and clothes rumpled, glaring at him. "And what is wrong with you now?"

JD attempted to laugh carelessly but it took a lot of oxygen that he required to live. "Nothing, just tired I guess," he explained breathlessly.

Dr. Cox snorted and moved quicker than JD could follow. He took hold of JD, one hand on his arm, the other on his side, and led him to the couch where JD collapsed, completely worn out. Even his pounding head seemed distant.

He must have been even more dazed than he thought because when Dr. Cox came back seemingly seconds later to stare down at him, he was wearing different clothes.

The older doctor was silent for a moment, just staring, running his eyes across JD's face. JD knew he looked ridiculously pale, but at least he had stopped breathing so hard. And crying. Although his eyes were probably still red from that freak out....

"When's the last time you ate something, princess?" Dr. Cox asked, his soft voice betraying the demeaning words.

JD thought about it, he really did, but couldn't come up with an answer. "I think, maybe...the day before yesterday?" he guessed. He faintly recalled Turk making him pancakes one morning, but he couldn't remember which morning.

Dr. Cox regained his hard voice. "You went out drinking after eating nothing for at least a day? Do you see why I'm afraid to leave you with patients? You can't even take care of yourself, muchless strangers!" He continued to rant as he moved around the room, but JD was too dizzy to listen; the whole room seemed to be spinning.

He returned moments later, sat a glass, bowl and plate on the coffee table and then sat on it himself.

"Here's the deal, sleeping beauty; you eat everything on this table and I won't take you to the hospital. How's that sound?" His overly cheery voice barely registered with JD, who simply nodded and moved his gaze to the plate of plain toast and bowl of oatmeal. The glass seemed to have juice in it.... How long had he been laying on this couch???

"Now I'm going to sit and watch you eat and then go into work," Dr. Cox continued. "And I'm so-ho not going to come back at lunch to make sure that you eat again, so let's just say that if you don't eat you're fired."

JD was taken aback. How would he know if he didn't eat? And could he really fire him?

"Uh, okay," JD simply replied.

Dr. Cox gave him a big fake grin and passed him a piece of toast. "Great."