Hello everyone! Here's chapter 21 for you all. Enjoy!

Lawyers: Our client does not own Scrubs or Dead Like Me, nor is she gaining any profit by writing this story. Don't sue her.

Chapter 21

JD's POV

I got back to the apartment a little later on and parked Sasha in her usual spot. Carla and Turk were working a shift and I had the day off, so I'd have the place to myself. By habit, I checked the mail on my way up to our place and while most of it was bills and junk mail, there was one letter addressed to me that stuck out.

It was from a life insurance company.

Unlocking the door and walking into our complex, I tossed the other mail onto the kitchen table before sitting down on the couch and turning on the TV for some background noise. I stared down at the ominous letter in my hand. I knew I should open it, but I wasn't really sure if I wanted to. It could be nothing, it could just be an offer from a life insurance company, or it could be...

..because of Dan.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the letter and skimmed through the first piece of paper I pulled out. Yes, it was because of Dan. The company was apologizing for my loss and then telling me that Dan had wanted all of his life insurance to go to me.

I really shouldn't be too surprised. It wasn't uncommon for reapers to get life insurance when they knew they were close to reaching their quota. That way they could move on up to the next plane of existence, reassured by the fact that the ones they left behind were taken care of. Pretty much like knowing when you're going to die, when you think about it.

Dan wanted all of his life insurance to go to me. Not anybody else in our division, just me.

Setting aside the company's letter, I pulled another piece of paper out of the envelope. It was a check from the company and wow that was a lot of money. A whole lot of money. I've never had this much money before in my life.

Like any normal person, I thought of all the things I could spend it on. First I thought of the fun things that I wanted to spend it on, and then I thought of the more practical things. Things like my student loans or things like-

"If you got your own house, you could keep him."

A house. I could actually afford to have a house built on my plot of land. I would actually be a home owner. I've never owned a house before, not in the one-hundred and thirty years I've been around. Also, if I had my own place, I could keep the puppy.

That was probably his plan the whole time.

"Hey, pup!" I called out, standing up from the couch and looking around the apartment for him. He hadn't run to greet me at the door like he usually did. "I've got some news for you!"

Still, he didn't come out, which was strange because he usually would when he heard me calling like that. Thinking that perhaps he was sleeping, I walked over to my room to check on the bed for him. He tended to stay out of Turk and Carla's room, so my room or the bathroom was really the only option.

When I reached my room, I froze in the doorway and stared down at the mess on the carpet, completely horrified. Strewn about the carpet were little bits of shredded newspaper, and not just any newspaper, but my obituaries. The mutt had gotten into my shoebox and tore everything to pieces.

Slowly, as if in a daze, I walked over to the mess and slumped down to my knees among it. It was gone, all of it gone. Not a single clipping could be salvage. Seeing a scrap of something different from all the rest of the newspaper clippings, my heart stopped.

No.

I gently picked the picture up off the ground and stared at it with watering eyes. Emily. I could hardly recognize her though the chew marks, but it was definitely a picture of Emily. My eyes were then drawn to a box in a corner of the room. It was smaller than my obituary box and had been used to hold mementos of my previous life. Newspaper clippings and pictures of Emily. A picture that I believe was probably of my family. A wedding ring that I robbed off my own body many years ago.

The box was empty now. Everything had been torn to bits and was mixed up among the obituaries. The little beast probably ate the wedding ring because I couldn't see that anywhere either.

My entire past, gone. There was nothing left. My wife, my family, and now Dan too. As I sat among the remains of my past, something inside of me just snapped.

"You are out of here, mutt! You hear that? You have pushed me too far!" I shouted, standing up and leaving my room in search of the dog. "You can't hide from me forever!"

I searched the living room and the kitchen for the little monster, but he wasn't hiding anywhere around there, so I moved on to Turk and Carla's room. The best place to hide would be the place you never went, though I wasn't sure if he was that smart.

I burst into the room and it only took me a second to see the puppy cowering under a small desk in the corner. He knew he was in trouble.

"Get out here!" I snapped, marching over to him.

He darted out from under the desk quicker than I could blink and was already past me and out the bedroom door. I stormed after him, more furious than I ever remember being in my entire afterlife. I chased him around the couch, making grabs for him but missing. With his ears down and his tail between his legs, he made a break for the kitchen, and it was only a matter of minutes before I had him cornered against the lower cabinets.

I stood before him, my hands clenched into fists, and he was crouched down as low to the ground as he could possibly get in a show of submission. I glared down at him, and growled to myself because really, there wasn't much I could do. He may have destroyed the things most important to me, but he was still just a puppy and I wasn't going to hit a puppy, much less a dog.

Turning on the sink faucet next to me, I practically moaned in grief, "That was my past, you bastard!" Grabbing the sink sprayer, I turned it on the pup and sprayed him, the cabinets and floor with water. He ducked his head down with his eyes closed but stayed where he was. "You ate it all. Those things were irreplaceable, I'll never get them back! Did my ring taste good, huh? I hope it gives you indigestion!"

An involuntary sob escaped my throat and I stopped my water assault. The soaked pup darted around me, leaving a wet trail in his wake. He skidded out of the kitchen and out of sight, but I didn't go after him. I turned off the sink faucet and walked away from the kitchen like a zombie.

It was all too much and I couldn't take it anymore. I needed an escape, a release of some sort, even if for just a moment. I dragged myself into the bathroom and halfheartedly shut the door behind me. I stared into the bathroom mirror and watched as tears trailed down my face. I pulled back the mirror to reveal the cabinet behind it, and as I looked at all the different medicines littering the shelves, I remembered a reaper I once met whose mission in life was to find the ultimate high.

His name was Mason. Mason, Mason, Mason. He was quite the character, and he told me many tips and tricks when it came to getting completely smashed.

"Take double the amount that would kill a living person if you want to get past that whole metabolism thing."

I grabbed a few bottles of over-the-counter medicine, knowing I could always buy more if Carla and Turk needed it.

"Extreme blood loss is the best way to get that warm, fuzzy, light-headed feeling."

I pulled one of the blades off of my razor, cutting my fingers in the process. I barely ever used it before, might as well put it to good use now.

Opening the first bottle, I swallowed mouthfuls of pills at a time before moving on to the next bottle and then another bottle after that. I dropped to the ground heavily and crept over to the toilet. I put the seat up first before dragging the razor blade down one arm.

"Always remember: down the street, not across the street."

'Good ol' Mason,' I thought to myself as I dunked my bloody arm into the toilet and flushed, watching the water suck away the blood. I didn't exactly know how well that would work, but I've heard of the suicidal people in the hospital doing it and felt it was worth a try.

I wasn't trying to stupidly kill myself or anything, dieing was impossible for me, and it wasn't like I even wanted to die, I was perfectly happy with living. I just wanted to lose myself in the pain and lightheaded high and forget about all my problems for one small moment.

So I sat in front of the toilet, re-opening the wound every time it healed, and sticking my arm in the water and flushing. As my body became weaker, I lost control of my emotions and was sobbing like the little girl Perry always accused me of being. It continued on like this for who knows how long, I lost track of time. Crying and cutting and bleeding. Tears mixed with blood in the water before being sucked away with each flush.

Then for one beautiful moment, my mind was floating and I blanked on everything. I didn't think, I didn't care, I felt no emotions, as if I didn't exist, and then everything went black.

The next thing I was aware of was the cool tiles of the bathroom floor pressing against my skin. My arm ached for only a moment before the pain disappeared completely, and I felt sluggish, as if my blood had been replaced by lead. As my mind slowly came back to earth, I could hear scratching nearby followed by a concerned whining.

Not really thinking too much, I dragged myself across the floor and over to the bathroom door. With a heavy arm, I reached up and turned the knob, letting the door open a crack. The puppy, still wet from our last encounter, pushed his way past the door and walked over to me. My arm dropped from the door knob back down to the floor and I closed my eyes when the puppy licked my face. He sniffed me over for a moment before curling up against me and settling down. He smelled like wet dog, but I couldn't find it in myself to care. Instead, I lay a limp arm over him and drifted back off to sleep.

When I next woke up, I was much more coherent and felt like I was almost back to normal. I also felt a whole lot better emotionally, like I was going to be okay and I could handle what's been thrown at me. Women are right, sometimes you just need to have a good cry.

The puppy was still there, laying next to me, and I ruffled the fur on his head, waking him up. He looked at me, shaking slightly.

"You're a nuisance and a real pain, you know that," I said, sitting up and petting him. "It seems to work for you though." He got to his feet and shuddered before bending down.

"What is it?" I asked, a tad concerned.

Then he threw up and sitting there in the small puddle of puppy vomit was my wedding ring.

Petting him soothingly on the back, I said, "I really appreciate that. That's really gross, but thank you still."

I looked from the puppy vomit to the empty pill bottles to the blood splattering the toilet and the floor around the toilet. Sighing, I said, "Looks like we've got a lot of cleaning up to do before Carla and Turk get home."

I cleaned the bathroom first and then washed the blood off my arm before changing into some clean clothes. I dried off the puppy as best as I could with a towel and then just left the towel on the ground for him to roll around on. I cleaned up the water in the kitchen, but the water trails on the carpet would have to dry on their own.

All that was left after that was my room. I gathered up all the paper shreds and threw them away in the kitchen trash. I still thought it sucked that it happened, but I was going to be okay with it. At least I still had the ring which was now clean and hanging on a chain around my neck.

It was around the time when I finished cleaning that I got a call. It was someone responding to my flier and asking about the puppy. A few hours ago I would have said hell yes, but now...

"I'm sorry, but the offer is no longer available. Yes.. That's okay, bye," I hung up the phone and looked over at the German Shepherd who was laying on his back on the towel.

"Guess you'll need a name now, huh?" I said, thinking over all sorts of names, but it was already obvious what this pain-in-the-ass who at times lived to annoy me should be called.

"Danny. It's fitting."

He rolled back over to his stomach and rubbed his nosed against the towel.

"Well, Danny, now that that's all straightened out, there's one last problem that I need to take care of. You hold down the fort while I'm gone."

Grabbing what I needed, I headed out the door and down the apartment stairs to Sasha. I was a man on a mission.

Perry's POV

I stood on the roof of an apartment complex that was directly across from Jordan's apartment and stared down at the windows that I knew were her windows. I don't know how long I had been standing there watching, I just knew that the sun had set and it was dark now.

'What am I doing here?' I wondered. 'What could I possibly accomplish by standing here?'

I guess I was trying to decide what I'd do about this situation for now on. If I kept in contact with her, the memory loss would be inevitable, and then who knows what? If I stopped seeing her, I would have my memories, but I wouldn't have them.

I heard the door behind me open and close with a squeak, and this was soon followed by: "I figured I'd find you around here somewhere."

I glanced over my shoulder at Newbie before looking back down at the windows, "I didn't hear you drive up."

"You were probably too distracted," he said as he came to stand beside me.

I said nothing.

"You have to let them go, Perry."

"I don't know if I can," I admitted. It's funny, I wasn't this attached to them when I was alive, but now...

"You have to try," he said adamantly. "If you don't, this will only screw them up in the end. How healthy can it be for them to be around someone who is exactly like the father and ex-husband they lost?"

"What about me, huh?" I asked, glaring at him. "How much do you think this will screw me up in the end if I never see them again?"

"Are you really that selfish?" he snapped. "Okay, fine, let's talk about you. You'll stay with them and never grow any older because we can't get older, and not only will that put the reaper secret at risk, but that will end up screwing all of you over when they die and you keep on living. Then, when they are gone, you'll have nothing to remember them by except what you know from those years spent with them."

"Shut up," I growled.

"And who's to even say that the Higher Powers won't take away those memories too," he continued, ignoring me. "What are you going to tell them when they ask you why you still look the same after twenty or so years? There's no explanation for that!"

"Well what about you, you hypocrite? What are you going to tell your friends when they grow old and you don't?" I asked him, my fists clenched.

"I'm going to do what I have to do and fake my death when the time comes," Newbie said. "It's what us plaguies have to do, and it's what you're eventually going to have to do. Or are you going to decide against doing that too?"

He gave me a condescending look.

"I don't care if you rank higher than me in your freak reaper world, Josie, I don't have to listen to you and there's nothing you can do about it," I said.

"You were a selfish stubborn bastard when you were alive and you're even worse now that you're dead," he said with a frustrated growl. "You may not admit it, but you used to care about your patient's welfare and you used to care about what happened to your family."

"I do too care about my patients which is why I don't kill them and I care about my family which is why I'm trying to help them through this time," I said.

"No, you're letting those people's souls rot away in their body and you're keeping open an emotional wound for your family," he said, and then he shoved me away from the roof's ledge. "The only person you care about is yourself!"

I stumbled back a few paces and then shoved him right back, "You don't know what you're talking about Newbie."

"You're the 'newbie' this time, Perry, and I do know what I'm talking about," he snapped, glaring at me with his hands fisted at his side. "You're only looking out for your best needs. Only Perry matters. Everyone else can go to hell, isn't that right?" he said mockingly.

I ground my teeth and gave him my best death glare.

"What's wrong, little newbie? Am I upsetting you?" he asked with a fake look of concern. "That's a pretty murderous look right there. Does Percival want to kill me? Oh, but wait, you can't. This whole situation is completely out of your control, and you can't stand it."

"Newbie, I swear I'll-"

"You'll what?" he asked, not looking frightened at all. What ever happened to the good old days when he would run in fear whenever I glared at him? "If you're going to do something, then do it. Go ahead and hit me already!"

So I did. I punched him right across the face and he stumbled back a step with the force of the blow. My fist stung for only a second before healing, and I stood before him, ready and waiting for his move. He only took a few seconds to recover before lunging forward and punching me right back.

Then we both just went at it completely. Punching and kicking, neither of us held back knowing that the blows were only temporary. I got him in the stomach and he went down, hunched over on the ground. He surprised me by knocking my feet out from under me with a strength I wasn't aware he possessed. I hit the ground hard and he was on me before I could recover, grabbing me by the neck and slamming my head against the ground.

"You should be thinking more positively," he snapped between blows. "Your family is here! Your family is alive! You know your family is well!"

I kneed him in the groin and kicked him off of me. We were both on the ground, panting and waiting for recovery to come before getting up and going at it again. It seemed like this would go on forever with no possible way for either of us to win. We could both hold our own and we could both heal from any blow we couldn't dodge. We were too evenly matched and there was nothing up on the roof that could turn the tides.

Then I had Newbie backed up against the roof's ledge and thought to myself, 'Duh, you moron, the roof!'

What was the harm, really? Like he said before, he couldn't die.

My mind made up, I reached out and pushed as hard as I could. With no room to regain his footing, Newbie hit the ledge hard and lost his balance. It seemed like one of those slow motion moments with Newbie bent halfway over the ledge, his arms waving in the air in search of support. It was futile though, there was nothing to save him, and just as a smirk spread across my face, the kid reached out and grabbed hold of the front of my shirt.

Then he was falling backwards right over the edge and I was dragged over with him. My stomach and legs scraped against the ledge before I was falling with only air around me and Newbie just at arm's length. With the roof four stories up and gravity working against us, I only had enough time to think 'This is really gonna hurt' before we collided with the pavement.

White hot agony was all I was really aware of. Everything hurt. It hurt more than all of the beatings I received as a child combined. My blood decorated the pavement around me and mixed together with Newbie's blood. The crimson liquid poured out of my mouth, nose, ears, eyes and the back of my head like a faucet. My bones felt like dust. I couldn't even find it in me to scream. I just lay there silently bearing my pain.

Slowly, far too slowly, it faded away. My bones reformed, as did the back of my head. Any torn skin healed over, and while the blood wasn't sucked back into me, my body worked to replace what I had lost.

I heard a gurgling cough from beside me, and looked over without really moving my head. Newbie lay there, looking to be in the same state as I was. We both landed face up.

"Bastard," he breathed, not moving, just waiting for the healing to finish. "You didn't have to push me."

"You didn't have to drag me down with you," I ground out through the fading pain.

"Seemed fair to me," he said, and I saw him wince as one of his broken arms snapped back into place.

We lay there in silence for a while after that. Once our bones were all healed and our skin grew back, we sat up, leaning against the apartment complex we just fell off of, waiting for our blood to be replenished. Thankfully we had landed in a side alley of the apartment, so nobody saw out little reaper display.

"Now see, don't you feel better?" Newbie asked, looking over at me.

Giving him a look, I said, "Are you on something Pricilla? That was the most painful thing I've ever experienced in my entire life."

He shook his head slightly, "No, I mean, we've both been bottling things up so much lately. It's amazing we haven't killed anyone because of it." I gave him another look, and he added, "Killed someone who wasn't our reap. And I told you before, what we do is not killing." changing the subject, he said, "You needed this as much as I did. Maybe even more."

"So you purposely egged me on into a fight?" I asked.

"If I say 'yes,' will you hit me again?"

"No," I sighed. He had a point, but that was an interesting way to go about it. Of course, that was probably the reaper way of going about it.

Maybe it was the blood loss, or maybe I knocked a few screws loose in the fall, but whatever the reason, I actually opened my mouth and started up what was bound to be a heart-to-heart with the kid.

"I know I can't see them anymore," I said quietly. "Yesterday I forgot my own son's name, and that was just one of the most horrible things to experience. I couldn't take it if I forgot everything about them, or about everyone else. It's just... difficult, you know? She actually wanted to start something with Chris Warrender. I had an in, but..."

The kid nodded in understanding, and said, "It just takes time. Eventually you'll reach a point where things are good for you."

Newbie stood and stretched as if he was checking to see that everything reconnected correctly. Turning to me, he asked, "You ready?"

"For what?"

"We're going to the cemetery," he explained. "I want to get your reaps straightened out tonight and put this whole thing behind us."

"Yeah, I'm ready," I said, pushing myself to my feet.

"Great!" he said cheerfully. "Hope you're up for shoveling."

We arrived at the cemetery on his geeky little scooter. Usually I wouldn't be caught dead riding the bitch seat of his little bike (unless it was for revenge), but Newbie brought up a good point that it would be suspicious if we called a cab to drive us to a cemetery late at night.

We went to the cemetery tool shed first. Apparently the kid pulled some strings and the doors had been left unlocked, allowing us to grab two shovels. With my shovel in hand, I followed Newbie across the cemetery to where my reap had been buried. As we walked, I kept seeing some dark figures moving out of the corner of my eyes, but every time I looked, there was nothing there.

We reached the gravesite, and the dirt looked fresh, so it wouldn't take too much effort to dig up the coffin. Plunging my shovel into the soil, I couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. I let my reap get buried, and something like that just seemed really disrespectful. It took a few hours before we hit the coffin and brushed the dirt off of it.

"How do we know if the soul is rotten?" I asked, feeling even more guilty.

What does it even mean for a soul to rot away?

"They don't look human anymore," he explained. "Believe me, you'll be able to tell."

I opened up the coffin to reveal a young boy inside. He couldn't have been over the age of seven and the funeral clothes he was dressed in looked strange on someone so young.

"Looks like the job's done to me," I said, still staring down at the boy who looked very dead to me.

"He's still in there though," Newbie said. "His soul is in there and is aware of what's happening around him."

My eyes widened, imagining everything this boy had gone through, and asked, "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"I have been, haven't I?" he said, giving me a look. "I told you it was important. I told you that you have to be their when it happens. Does the term 'rotting souls' ring any bells with you?"

Instead of saying anything, I looked back at the boy and brushed my fingers along his arm, finally releasing his soul. His soul sat up out of his body with a horrified gasp. His eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings. After a moment of shocked silence, sparkling tears ran down his face and he just started sobbing.

I gathered the boy up into my arms and he latched around my neck tightly. Newbie stepped away and let me handle things. As I held the crying child in my arms, I imagined what it would be like if the boy were Jack and this had happened to him.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered to him, climbing out of the grave with him in my arms. I sat down on the wet grass and rocked the kid back and forth. "You're okay. Everything's going to be okay. You're safe now."

I don't know how long I sat there, comforting the kid in my arms. Eventually his crying subsided and he pulled away from me with red eyes, hiccupping occasionally.

"See? You're fine," I told him. "And you're going to go to a happy place with really cool looking lights and all sorts of fun things like that. Okay?"

He nodded, still hiccupping, and then the sky above us lit up like it was daytime. The three of us looked up to see a space craft hovering above us. It looked like something straight out of a sci-fi movie and it looked, dare I say it, completely heavenly.

"That's your ride," I told him. He still said nothing, just staring up at the ship with wide eyes. "Are you scared?"

He shook his head, smiling tentatively up at the ship.

"Good," I said. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

A beam of light shot from the ship down to the ground near us. I let go of the boy, my arms falling to my sides.

"Well, go on then," I told him.

Standing up from my lap, he raced right over to the light beam and straight into it. Turning into lights himself, the beam carried him up to the ship. Newbie walked over to me and stood by my side. We both watched the ship hover there for a moment before shooting up into the sky and disappearing completely.

The whole thing had been completely amazing and it made me understand the importance of our job. As cheesy as the saying is, death is only the beginning. If it weren't for us reapers, people would have no way of escaping their physical forms and traveling to... wherever that ship went.

"You ready to go to the morgue?" was all Newbie said.

"Yeah," I said. "Let's go."

Yay! Done with twenty-one! The epilogue is after this and then on to the next story. Oh, and I'm sure you all know I don't condone ODing and cutting and all that jazz. Also, those dark figures Perry saw in the graveyard were gravelings. (get it?) Cemeteries are common hang-outs for them.

Review please!