A/N Sorry guys. It's been a long time, and I've been in the longest writer's block. I still can't write comfortably, so I'm sorry if this chapter seems a bit iffy.
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Of course, Dr. Kelso made sure that JD was out of his hospital before one more dime could escape from his safe.
"Ow," John Dorian winced as Turk lifted him off of his bed and onto a wheelchair. He shifted his arm uncomfortably, looking more worn out than Elliot had ever seen him."Thanks, Brown Bear. Come over after your shift's done."
"Can't, buddy," Turk patted his gelled hair affectionately. "Carla's making me spend time with Izzy tonight. I'll come over tomorrow."
"Damn baby. Shouldn't she be sleeping by then?"
"Izzy's an owl. Her idea of bedtime's four AM!"
"Damn owl baby."
Elliot shook her head slightly. Their idiotic conversations sometimes made her completely space out. "Let's go, JD. You have to teach me where your new apartment is." She grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and started pushing him out of the door. "See you later, Turk!"
"Take good care of Vanilla Bear. Cater to his every will!" Elliot rolled her eyes at JD's "wife" and gave him a half smile.
-
"Jesus, JD! Haven't you ever heard of trashcans?" Elliot grimaced as she flicked on the light. Sure, it was a nice apartment, but at that moment, it looked like a war site. Coke cans lounged on every countertop in the room, stained napkins and paper plates still sat on the coffee table, beds were unmade, dirty dishes were piled in the sink, crumbs littered the floor...oh God.
"Sorry, Elliot," JD grinned sheepishly, wheeling himself in. "I'm kind of used to Carla cleaning up after me and Turk."
Elliot put her hand to her forehead and sighed deeply. "Well, I'm not going to be your Carla for the next two weeks. Do you have any Hefty bags?"
"Yeah." He moved to the sink and groped around in the cabinet. He produced a large black bag and handed it to her expectantly.
"What are you giving it to me for? Clean everything up."
"Elliot," he pouted.
"Elliot nothing. I'm only making the bed. The rest's up to you, mister." She proceeded to the bed and pulled the large covers off.
JD looked at her for a moment. "What's the point of making the bed if I'm going to sleep in it tonight? And it's kind of hard picking up trash with one hand and a wheelchair."
"That's how slobs think...and just throw that crap in!" Elliot replied exasperatedly. "I swear, one day you're just going to drown in your own trash here."
"Smelliot's cranky."
"Am not. You're such a baby sometimes." Her voice increased in octave, which always happened when she got upset.
JD chuckled, knowing plainly that Elliot was getting annoyed, which was great fun. He backed off, deciding to stop acting like a little boy teasing a girl, and started piling trash awkwardly into the bag.
-
The next day, Elliot was all moved in. She had called Keith to bring over a suitcase with her clothes inside, and reminded him to take care of the house for the next few weeks. "I'll come over soon."
"Have fun, babe."
Elliot pecked him on the lips and lugged the suitcase into the room. She heard the door click as it closed.
-
8 PM. The day had gone on fabulously for Elliot. No Kelso, no reports, no worries. All she had done was watch an hour of Grey's Anatomy with JD in the afternoon, take a long bath (which she fell asleep during), and just talked about nothing with her best guy friend. She missed this, she had realized during their conversations about the new Subway commercial and the upcoming summer movies. She examined JD's face while he went on about how horrible the new Jack Black movie looked. His face looked so serious; his forehead was creased and his hand waved in front of him, which was what he always did when he was in an argument. But that bruise! Elliot frowned as her eyes rested on the several purple blemishes travelling down the side of his face.
"Elliot, are you okay?"
Crap. "I think that panda movie might be funny."
That made JD start another rant, and Elliot smiled.
"Hey, you want to watch a chick flick before sleeping?" she suggested. "The Wedding Singer?"
JD never objected to romantic comedies, so Elliot helped JD plop onto the sofa and set the disc into the DVD player. She turned off the lamp so the room was in comforting darkness other than the glow of the television. So the fluffy plot began, and as the movie dragged on, Elliot didn't notice that JD had fallen asleep. She glanced down and saw that his head was awkwardly resting on the sofa's arm. "JD, you never fall asleep during Drew Barrymore movies. Are you that tired?" she examined him more closely, putting her palm to his forehead.
It was burning.
"JD, wake up. You have a fever!" He didn't respond, other than a few small moans. Elliot had expected this; he was extremely prone to illnesses in his condition. "Here, rest your head on my lap." She pulled him, and after flopping around like a large sack of potatoes, his head slid onto her thighs. She rested her dainty hands onto his forehead again, and his face's tension relaxed from the contact.
He looked so peaceful.
It reminded her of a few years ago when they were dating, when she would just hold his sleeping head and stroke his ungelled hair after he passed out on the bed. She ran her hands through his black hair now. It felt exactly the same, and she felt a wave of nostalgia hit her. She remembered when she would just bend down and kiss him softly on the lips. No. Elliot shook her head suddenly, her bangs spreading oddly all over her forehead. You can't be thinking like that again. That's over. You have a boyfriend, and you and JD...Just. Don't. Work.
"Elliot."
JD's eyes opened slightly and he looked directly at her. "I'll tell you what happened in North Hollywood."
"JD, don't talk now," Elliot whispered, removing her palms from his forehead. "You're sick."
"No, I suddenly feel like telling you," he said slowly. He closed his eyes tiredly. "You know the day that I crashed?" He felt Elliot's nod. "I was there because I was paying a visit to your favorite floral store."
Elliot was confused. "Wait...why?"
"I was going to buy some yellow tulips...your favorite...for you. It was the day I met you, the seventh year we've known each other."
"JD." A smile tugged at her face, and suddenly she felt breathless. "That's so sweet. Even I didn't remember that." JD opened his eyes again for a second and gave her a soft smile. She bent down and gave him a peck on his bruise, surprising both herself and JD. He relaxed and closed his eyes again. In a few minutes, she felt his breathing even out, and knew that he had fallen asleep.
The soft, romantic glow of the television wasn't helping. She watched as Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore closed into a passionate kiss. Stop it. Stop it. She reluctantly looked down onto JD's face and absentmindedly stroked the bruise on his cheek.
You can't do this again, Elliot. You just can't. You have Keith. You and JD have never worked as a couple. You will never work as a couple. JD has dumped your ass before, and he's going to do it again.
Somehow, these thoughts blended together and trickled out of Elliot's mind. She just continued to stroke JD's bruises in that position until she could see the sky turning a faint orange.
That's when she slept.