Greetings readers of fic! Glad you liked the first chapter and to answer Sky Pad's question: Yes, the Dan in the flashback is the same Dan that plays JD's brother in the show. Also, in case you guys didn't catch it, the once head-reaper, Sam, is the same Sam that played JD's dad in the show. Moving on...

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, so don't bother suing her.

Chapter 2

"Dan, what do you want?" I immediately asked, getting straight to the point.

"What, no 'Hi Dan. How are you? Nice weather we're having.'?" he said, offended.

"No, see, if you were just calling to chat, you wouldn't have called me at work," I explained. "So I ask again, Dan, what do you want?"

"You really need to work on your phone skills, little brother," he scolded lightly.

"Dan!"

"Happy Death Day, Joey!" he exclaimed jubilantly.

I paused for a moment to rub my forehead, feeling a Dan-induced headache coming on, before I turned my attention back to the phone, "For the love-of-God, Dan, please tell me this isn't the reason why you called me. I mean, what if I had completely forgotten all about that and you just ended up reminding me of one of the most saddest moments in my life?"

This time he paused for a moment before hesitantly asking, "Did I?"

"No, but that's not the point, and for the last time, it's JD," I said then, lowering my voice when I noticed Lavern glancing at me every now and then, I hissed, "At least call me Johnny or John."

"Sure thing Johnny-boy. So John-John-Johnny-John, care to tell me why you have such a stick up your ass? I thought you got over that whole self-pity thing," Dan said; I could practically see the grin on his face.

"Someone died," I said with a depressed tinge to my tone.

"Somebody always dies," he said dismissively.

"No, somebody I know... Knew," I explained.

He suddenly sounded concerned as he asked, "Turk?"

"No, Ted."

"But Ted's a reaper," Dan said in confusion.

"You're thinking of the Todd. Ted is the hospital's lawyer. Er, was the hospital's lawyer," I mumbled.

"Oh. Well, you know, another one bites the dust. Circle of life and all that," he rambled off.

"You're sympathy is overwhelming," I hissed sarcastically.

"What?" he shouted defensively, "I didn't know the guy!"

As I ran a hand through my hair, I asked in exasperation, "Dan, is there a reason for this call?"

"Oh, so I'm just supposed to ignore the anniversary of the day little Josie bought the farm?" he asked, clearly stalling, though I wasn't sure why.

"I'm hanging up the phone now," I stated flatly.

However, before I could, Dan shouted, "Wait!"

"I'm listening," I sighed.

"Look, I know it's your day and everything, and that this is probably the last thing you want to deal with right now, but we've got a reap here with your name on it," he finally confessed.

"You're kidding!" I said incredulously, smacking a hand to my forehead, "Just when I thought the day couldn't get any worse. What are the odds of that even happening anymore?"

"While it's very uncommon, there are still those few occasional cases of it," Dan reminded me.

"Yeah, I know," I muttered as I grabbed a pen and a nearby stack of Post-its, "Okay, so what's the information?"

"P.R. Bengal. Dunkin' Donuts. Thirty-four Park Street. Estimated time of death is 3:45 AM," Dan said.

"Oh wonderful! My shift ends at midnight," I griped while scribbling the information onto the Post-it.

"Then you'll have plenty of time, and look at it this way: you can get coffee while you're there," he laughed.

I growled at him before saying, "I gotta go, okay?"

"Sure thing, little brother. Talk to you later John-John-Johnny-"

I hung up before he could finish then proceeded to bang my head against the front desk. By the time I'd get home after my shift, I'd probably only get two hours of sleep before I'd have to head out and find this Bengal person. Dan was right though, at least it was near a Dunkin' Donuts. If I was really lucky, the person would pass on pretty quickly and I'd be able to catch a couple more hours of sleep before I had to head into work again.

"I hate it when my schedule gets piled up like this," I muttered quietly to myself.

Just then, a sharp and loud whistle tore through the air and the familiar voice of my mentor quickly followed it, "Newbie, if you're all done wasting the hospital's time and money with those long distance calls to your boyfriend who swears that the exhausted female voice that answers each time you call is really just his sister, but let me tell you, she's not, she's just not," he shook his head to emphasize his point as he pulled out a couple of charts from under his arm, "I'm gonna need you to take a few of these pneumonia patients off my shoulders for a bit. All you really need to do is watch them and make sure they don't choke on their own sputum, do you think you can handle that, Emily?"

And suddenly I was hit with that aching sense of loss. It twisted up my insides and sent my emotions on end, and before I could contain myself, I yelled, "You know what? I already have enough on my plate as it is! So I'm gonna need you to keep your patients and back off! You think you can handle that, Dr. Cox?"

I made a hasty retreat before he could recover from his shock and respond. It was partly because now seemed the perfect moment to storm off, but it was mostly because I was a little afraid of how he'd react to my outburst.

Shit, I shouldn't have done that. Seriously though, out of all the names he could have picked for today of all days, it had to be hers.

'Emily,' I thought sadly, 'My beautiful wife. We had known each other for so long, but I can't remember how long. Emily, I had to leave you behind, just when our marriage was first starting out. I had watched as you moved on with your life. Why couldn't I move on as easily as you did...'

I had managed to avoid Dr. Cox for the rest of my shift and while I would say it was due to my ninja-like agility, I had a feeling he decided to just leave me alone for the time being. Well, if anyone asks, I'm telling them it's because of my sweet ninja moves.

By the time I got home on Sasha, it was twelve thirty and Carla and Turk were already asleep since their shifts had ended before mine and they had to get up earlier than I did. So after setting my alarm, I managed to catch around two hours of sleep before I had to get up and find that Dunkin' Donuts.

'Man, I hate it when people die at ungodly hours of the morning,' I thought languidly as I grabbed my coat and helmet; I hadn't bothered getting undressed for bed and instead had just put on my work clothes for tomorrow... Technically today.

As quietly as I could, I stumbled through the dark apartment and down the stairs to Sasha before heading off to thirty-four Park Street. It took a lot of driving around aimlessly before I finally swallowed my pride and stopped to ask for directions. Next time I'll bring a map.

"A GPS should come with the job," I muttered bitterly as I parked in front of the Dunkin Donuts that was, of course, closed. So much for the getting coffee idea.

I hopped off my scooter and looked around, but there was nobody in site. That just so completely figures, right? Not only did I have to wake up at this God-forsaken hour of the morning, but now I also had to go in search of the guy or girl. They should really make the destinations more specific; it'd make the job a bit easier.

I began walking the perimeter of the building, and just when I was starting to think that the person might be inside and that I'd have to break in, I spotted... him? Hmm, I walked closer to the still form. Yup, I'm ninety-five percent sure that's a guy, it's just a little hard to tell with mud and grime caked on his body. I guess the fact that it's a homeless guy makes the cause of death make much more sense.

All grim reapers are divided up into different divisions depending upon how they died, and among each division are groups of reapers assigned to different areas. So the Todd for example is a part of the external influence division because he was killed through a college football hazing-related incident.

"It's down to the final test, Todd. If you want to be on the team, all you have to do is grab that bee hive over there," the football captain said, pointing at a hive in a tree off in the distance, "and throw it like a football."

Todd stared at his honey covered hands and said doubtfully, "I dunno..."

"Come on man!" shouted another guy on the team, "We all did it at one time, now it's your turn."

So after a few more encouraging shouts from the team, Todd raced over to the tree, plucked the rather large bee hive out of it, and threw it like a football. However, the bees weren't too happy about that and what nobody, not even Todd himself knew, was that he was highly allergic to bees. This idiotic right-of- passage would be the first time he'd even been stung, and incidentally, the last time as well.

"I don't feel so good," he winced, swaying on his feet.

That was when a girl who looked to be a few years older than Todd walked over to him. Nobody on the football team seemed to notice her, but Todd didn't think too much of it. He figured she was just one of the college girls coming over to admire his success for getting on the team. However, the look she was giving him didn't look like one of approval.

She finally looked him right in the eyes and said, "Well, think of it this way: At least you didn't die a virgin. Hey, good job, high-five, man."

With a grin on his gradually swelling face, Todd raised his hand to high-five the girl, not about to tell her that her first statement was untrue. That would all change pretty soon though, because he could tell that she so wanted him.

He was part of a team of around five other reapers who took care of the souls who died due to external influences in this particular area of California. I however, as I had mentioned before, am part of a different division of reapers. One of the worst divisions that many reapers would rather not be a part of. I am part of the plague division. The reason why this sucks so much is because the odds of someone dieing due to the plague these days is slim to none.

So while I may not have the unfortunate job of reaping souls on a daily basis like the Todd, I'll still be stuck on this planet as a grim reaper until I fill my quota, which basically means that I'm going to be around for a lot longer than your average reaper. That's why it's possible for Dan, who is over three hundred years old, to still be around. I myself will end up outliving the Todd, the Todd's replacement, and most likely even the Todd's replacement's replacement.

I lightly nudged the homeless guy with my foot to see if he was just sleeping. After all, I wouldn't want to reap the wrong person. When he didn't move, I checked for a pulse. Yup, defiantly dead. I glanced at my watch to see that it was three-fifty. Damn. Off by five minutes.

Reaching down, I gently brushed my hand down his arm; my fingers briefly leaving behind a light glow.

'Huh, for a homeless guy, he doesn't smell half bad,' I thought absentmindedly.

As I took a step back and wiped my hand off on my pants, the man's soul sat up from his body. He looked around, confused, before he got to his feet and completely left his body behind. He gave me a quizzical look before he turned around and jumped at the sight of his own body.

"Well, damn," he finally said.

"I'm sure this must be hard for you," I started off. It was the sort of speech I gave every soul I reaped.

However, he waved off my condolences and said, "Nah, not really. Life was kinda suckin' for me anyway." he paused to give me a once-over before asking, "You some kinda ghost or somethin'?"

"Close, I'm a grim reaper," I said lightly.

"Yeah? How's that workin' out for you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

I shrugged, "The pay sucks, but I manage."

He nodded before turning back to his body and asking, "So, how'd I die?"

"Believe it or not, but the plague," I told him.

"Huh, that's weird. I don't remember gettin' bit by a rat," he mused.

"Squirrels can be carriers too," I said conversationally as I led him out from behind the Dunkin Donuts, "and It's actually the fleas on the rats that cause it."

"What happens now?" he asked.

"You go off into a pretty light and from there, well, not even I know the answer to that," I explained as we reached the front of the now-open Dunkin Donuts. Open at four, now that's dedicated. Seeing no 'pretty lights' just yet, I walked him into the building and ordered a coffee. As we took a seat at a booth, me with my coffee in hand, I asked him, "So, Mr. Bengal, do you have any family that should be notified?"

"Nah, I never had any kids or a steady relationship or anything like that and there's nobody left alive in my family," he said.

"I'm sorry," I couldn't help but say.

He just waved the apology off and gave me an easy grin, "No need for any of that now. If death is anything like it is in movies, then I'll be seeing them all pretty soon."

No family. Then that would mean...

"Mr. Bengal, could I write an obituary for you?" I asked him a bit hesitantly.

"Well hell, kid, if you really want to," he said shrugging.

With a smile, I pulled out a pen from my pocket and grabbed a couple of napkins from the dispenser. Deciding to start with a simple question, I asked, "What's your full name, Mr. Bengal?"

"Peter Rohan Bengal, and that's Rohan with an 'h' there in the middle," he gestured at my writing.

"Alright," I nodded, correcting the mistake, "Who were you're parents?"

"That would be Annette and Rohan Bengal, they were still married at the time," he explained.

"Any siblings?" I asked.

"Yup, I had an older brother, Conrad Bengal, and a younger sister, Amelia Smith. Amelia married a young fellow named Brendan Smith. Boy, those two were crazy about each other," he said with a chuckle.

I smiled along with him as I scribbled down the names before asking, "Anything else about your life you'd like to be noted."

"Well, I was a pilot in the air force during World War Two. After that, I just flew for the joy of it," he said wistfully, then continued with a frown, "Then I had to sell my plane. Ah well, that doesn't matter much now that I'm dead."

"It'll get better," I said reassuringly.

It was then that I saw a bright flash of colorful lights through the large windows of the Dunkin Donuts. Gesturing over his shoulder to the store entrance, I said, "Looks like your ride is hear."

He turned around and gazed at the lights with a look of awe. After folding up the napkins with his information on them and slipping them into my pocket, I took Peter by the hand and led him outside. As soon as we reached outside, a happy smile replaced his look of awe, for parked there in the streets was a mini jet plane. I let go of his hand when he slowly approached the plane, and as he reached its side, his soul turned into several sparkling lights that merged with the iridescent aircraft. I watched at the jet plane took off into the air, flying high into the sky until it finally disappeared with one last bright flash of light.

Wow, two chapters in one week. Really people, this is a rare occurrence for me. Let's all thank my week off for this! Unfortunately, for the remaining three days of my vacation, I'll be either working, or finishing up my big, stupid English assignment. After that, I have an unusually busy week of school ahead of me. So the next time I'll be able to work on this is in May sometime.

Review please!