Scrubs

My Idea Of The Norm

My Hero II

I think I need to let the people that read my stories know that I'm hearing them. I'm just no good with replying to reviews. And, by that I mean, I don't like to. Haha! I'd much rather the world see what I say when I reply to you. Heehee... My favorite reviews still come from Mew-Erenaa. 'Nuffsaid. And, Phantomviola, Max doesn't have enemies. She's just like, as Elliot would put it, a 'Lil Ben. Everyone kinda, y'know, likes her. As Mary-Sue as it is. Haha! And, I love that you reviewed chapter five saying "No! Max!!" Hahahah! Best. Review. Ever. Thanks so much! To you and to everyone else that reads my story! And, so I don't leave anyone out, thanks rarax1 for being so concerned for Max's safety! hooch-is-crazy literally said I was the best Scrubs fan fictionwriter ever. I was like, "Wow." Whoa... Long blurb... Lets get this party started!

Disclaimer: I don't own Scrubs. I only own Max, who sometimes herself has a mind of her own...

Max sat on the examination table, playing air guitar. Perry and JD stood nearby, talking about the problem.

"It's still bleeding?" JD asked.

"Yeah..."

"Do you think it might be leukemia? Can that be hereditary?"

Perry looked at him. "I don't know. Maybe." He shrugged. "I sent her blood work down awhile ago. It should be around in about an hour."

"Well, I guess all we can do is wait." JD sighed, leaving the room.

I wish there was an easy way to be the bearer of bad news...

"Hey, Max, we've got something to tell you..." I said, frowning. "But, the only way I can think of is through a singer's trio."

Suddenly, the lights flickered off and a spotlight focused on Turk, Elliot, and I standing in front of her in striped red and white suits and straw-colored top hats.

"You..." Sang Turk, in a low voice.

"You," sand Elliot, the alto.

"You!" I sang, the soprano of the group.

"Have cancer," we finished, grinning.

JD shook his head, stopping in his tracks. "That's horrible..."

Max groaned. "I'm so bored that I could scream..."

"Scream?" Perry asked. "That wasn't very original at all."

She lay back on the hospital bed and sighed. "Yeah, I'm too bored to be clever."

Max leaned over towards the radio, flicking it on.

"Hast Du etwas Zeit für mich
Dann singe ich ein Lied fuer Dich
Von ninty-nine Luftballons
Auf ihrem Weg zum Horizont
Denkst Du vielleichtgrad' an mich
Dann singe ich ein Lied fuer Dich
Von ninty-nine Luftballons
Und dass sowas von sowas kommt"

Suddenly, JD slid into the room, dancing like a fool. "Ninety-nine Luftballons! Blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah!"

It took everything in Max's arsenal to not bust out laughing right then and there.

Perry whistled, breaking JD's attention. "Turn that off, Max."

"Can-do." The music ended...

...and a rant began. "Now, Newbie. I heard from Ghandi one day that white guys weren't supposed to dance. Yet, here you are, making a complete fool of yourself. Now, like many other days ever since this entertaining young girl has somehow made her way into my life, this day is not so good. So, I'm gonna make this short. I don't want to see your face again unless you have her tests, mkay?"

JD frowned. "Okay..." he mumbled. He half-danced out the door. "Ninety-nine luftbalons..."

Max chuckled. "That was... interesting."

"Yeah, I'll make the occasional reference to Newbie being an incompetent woman."

"I've noticed," Max laughed out, going through her pictures again.

"What made you decide you wanted to take pictures all the time?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I just like it. Don't you have something you like to do?"

"Well, um..." Perry thought for a moment. "I like to drink. If that counts."

Max laughed. "I like to drink too," she said.

Perry's eyes widened. "What?"

"Mostly soda..."

"JD, you can't just stand in front of Dr. Bob's office all day," Elliot complained, digging through her tote back. "The tests will be ready when they're ready! Besides, I doubt Max has leukemia anyways."

JD turned from the outbox outside of the hematopothologist'soffice. "Do you really believe that, Elliot?" he asked, seriously.

She stood for only a moment, letting her mouth sit agape. "Y-Yeah..." she mumbled, and then she rushed off.

Well, I don't. It sucks that this nice, cool kid has a chance of having this horrible disease. I mean, she's only fifteen. And everyone likes her. Even Janitor. But, then again, he only treats me like crap...

I just hope these tests come out negative. They have to come out negative.

"They have to come out negative, Jordan." Perry sighed, leaning back in his chair in the lunch room. Jordan and Jack sat across from her, and Jennifer sat in her stroller, eyes darting back and forth around the room.

"Yeah, I hope as much as the next guy," Jordan said.

"I'm serious," Perry muttered. "They have to."

Jordan's eyes widened as she came to a realization.

1) This was not regular Perry. This was Vulnerable Perry.
2) He wanted this more for himself than for Max.

"You're so selfish," Jordan mumbled, playing with a teething ring.

"Yeah? Well, I'm not going to be able to stay at this hospital if Max has leukemia. I'm not going to be able to do anything.'Cause, I don't just see Max when I look at her. I see Ben. I see my best friend. And, I can't let my best friend die again.I just can't do that, Jordan..."

Jordan leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her stomach. She didn't say anything. She only nodded.

"Hey, Turk," Max said, sitting up on her bed. Turk, taking over for JD while he got the test results, looked at her.

"'Sup?" he asked.

"Queso!" She snapped a picture of him.

"Should of saw that one coming..." he said, quietly, blinking spots from his eyes.

She smiled. "Yup. That's usually what happens." She looked at the picture and then let her camera drop. "There's something wrong with me, isn't there?"

"Uh..." Turk stood up, walking to the end of the bed and sitting down. "Well, we don't know that yet."

She nodded. "So, you're looking to figure that out?"

"Yeah," Turk answered.

"So, uh... What are you looking for?"

His eyebrows furrowed as he leaned against the railing of the bed. "Leukemia."

JD still stared at the outbox outside the hematopothologist's office. Couldn't the thing just materialize there and let him go?

Suddenly, a warm liquid was poured over his head. He jumped, spinning around. "Janitor..."

"Hey, Scooter," he said, holding a plastic purple bucket to his side. "You're in my mopping spot."

JD gave him a look. "You're not even holding a mop!"

Janitor's eyes narrowed. "Oh, I get. Since I'm only a janitor, I can't mop without a mop. That's what you're saying."

"That's exactly what I'm saying!" JD yelled. "No one can mop without a mop!"

"That's what you think, Scooter-Pie," Janitor mumbled, walking off, pushing a fake mop. "Maybe moptime you'll mop be for you mop."

Okay, the word mop has lost all meaning now...

I turned back to the outbox. The manila folders sat safely inside. "What the..." Déjà vu...

I slid the tests out and opened them up. "Oh..."

Rich Girl again. Perry was really gonna have to fix that...

He unclasped his pager from his belt loop.

Test results. Come to room.

Without speaking a word, Perry shot up from his seat and rushed out the lunch room.

He ran fast, but time seemed to move slow... And as he made his way down the hall towards Max's room, it only seemed to move slower. Finally, after what seemed like years, Perry entered the room, breathing harder than usual, heart racing. "What's the news?"

JD sighed. "I had the test done twice to make sure they were positive of the diagnosis..." he said.

"I'm sorry, Newbie, maybe you didn't hear me correctly. What's the news?"

JD handed him the manila folder. He opened it, reading the words inside.

"She's cancer free."