Current mood:	lonely
Current music:	Live - Merika
Entry tags:	scrubs

Thank You
Title: Thank You
Author/Artist: windout
Requestor: ilovedoyle
Fandom: Scrubs
Pairing: JD/Cox
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1,523
Warnings: Um…spoilers for "My Screwup" and schmoop and slash
Summary: Something inspired by the episode of Ben's Funeral. I mean, why was JD even there, never mind the fact that he came WITH Cox, and sat in the front row beside him?!
Disclaimer: Dr. Cox, JD and other Scrubs charries do not belong to me and never have.
A/N: Hurt comfort with a dash of wtf-ery that only first person stories can give.



I think I knew that what I was seeing was wrong in every sense of the word. Just as wrong as Jack sticking M&M’s up his nose or Appletinis in general. But did I listen to the rational thought process that sounded so damn…good that I could have gotten high off it?

“Where do you think we are?” Newbie’d asked. The worst part was that while I stood there grinning like an idiot at his child’s birthday party, I realized that I really didn’t know where I was. It looked like a birthday party, what with the too-green lawn, the too-many people, the too-long line of cars. Even Ben had shown up, but he didn’t have his stupid camera with him. I think that’s what tipped me off and reminded me that I was missing something kind of huge.

I must have just gotten confused. It’s the only explanation I have for what a screwed up, bummed out, absolute shit day it’s been. I’d been listening to that other voice in my head so long that I must have lost track of things. Important things, like reality. Definitely not the first thing you want to admit to a person when they catch you in the middle of a walkway with a dazed look on your face like you’ve just been sniffing toner. I hadn’t been getting high, just talking to my deceased, sort of brother-in-law. At least getting high wouldn’t have been entirely out of character for me.

At least I’m no longer talking to myself in a completely annoying multiple-person sort of way. I should make myself one of those heart-felt promises not to invent voices that sound like the recently deceased, but now’s not exactly the best time when Ben’s about to be shunted under ground like a dead person.

I’ll take a seat up front like a good little soldier, listen to what the hoodoo priest man’s got to say and try to recoup my losses. Jordan’s at my left, actually quiet and subdued for a change. I don’t exactly blame her. It’s like watching a hockey match after all the body checking and the action and the good parts.

What I don’t expect is Newbie sitting right next to me like he was supposed to be there. I don’t know why; maybe he thought he had some kind of obligation to me for being such an evil, self-absorbed, rotten little turd. I don’t even remember inviting him. He’s just lucky Ben’s looking out for him, even if Ben is currently relaxing in that shiny wooden box looking for all the world as though he’s just sleeping. Why, any minute he could pop out of the box, and Newbie’d pee everywhere in an excellent show of meager house breaking skills.

Except Ben wasn’t going to pop out of that box and scare the Newbie.

The second the bastard disappeared before Newbie showed up I knew he’d taken off on the first flight to wherever’s reasonably affordable. Why, he’s probably sipping beer with Jesus right now, swapping stories about their families and what not; Ben gets along with everybody.

I remember when I first met Ben—

Newbie’s got my hand in one of his clammy, pasty pale ones and is squeezing it in one of those manners that’s meant to be reassuring, but it’s really just a pretty wussy way of saying “I’m sorry.” Oddly enough, I don’t yell at him, call him a girl’s name or curse at him. I like to believe I was respecting Ben, but at the very least I would have yanked my hand away.

Newbie held my hand all through the funeral. It didn’t stop me from escaping as soon as humanly possible after the body was in the ground. That’s right, the body. If Ben was still in there…

My fingers are itching for a glass to hold, preferably full of some liquid mind eraser. Instead, I’ve gotta clench them tight to keep from wriggling them, moving them, that sort of thing. Crossing my arms helps a bit, and I guess if I lean against the tree, I’ll look sufficiently brooding and unreachable that nobody’ll care if they leave me behind at the cemetery.

Again, I don’t count on the unwavering, bullish tenacity of Newbie. He’s standing in front of me with his hands on his hips and just giving me one of those looks that means he’s PMSing or something equally entertaining on any other day.

“You’re just gonna stand here, aren’t you?”

“You betcha, Lois. Haven’t got anything better to do. My kid’s going to be scarred for life because his uncle died on his birthday. I was going to drink after his party anyway.”

“Dr. Cox…Ben’s not coming back.”

“Don’t you think I know that, Newbie?”

“Do you?”

God, the look on his face, it’s like I’d gone and kicked his dog, and called him fat. Of course I knew Ben wasn’t coming back. Why the hell else would I be standing in a cemetery feeling like my head is going to explode in a very nasty and gruesome manner? Why should I go grieve with Jordan when I—

Newbie darts in like a snake and wraps his arms around me.

The selfish, greedy, sonofabitch hugged me as if there weren’t people looking. As if I’d ever agree to a hug in my life. And for whatever reason, people weren’t actually looking. Apparently, Newbie was enough of a girl that it didn’t matter. And looking over at him…well…

“Thanks, JD,” I murmur to him. Not like I actually meant it in that way, right? So what if he wasn’t invited, I’m just grateful he stayed.

“Don’t mention it.” And he lets go, just like that. “Jordan’s waiting, I wouldn’t make her mad.”

“You know Jordan. All bark and ball busting.” She’s probably too damn busy with whatever posse of harpies she invited, but the last thing I want to do is to deal with a grieving Jordan. So I finally make my way over to the limo and pretend that I’m an open and caring individual. Except, I’ve gotta know.

“Y’know…Jordan…” I start, making sure I’ve got her attention. Pretty sure I do. “Who invited Newbie?”

“What?” Already she’s a couple of fangs away from attack mode, and I’m coming dangerously close to poking a cobra. With the amount of alcohol I drink, I’m not particularly worried about that brand of venom.

“Newbie. Why was he there?”

“What, the one you work with? JD?”

“Of course,” I scoff. Because I’ve been needing a good scoff all day and I wasn’t able to unload on Newbie. The face Jordan makes at me would turn mortals to stone.

“He wasn’t here, Perry.”

My first thought is that that doesn’t make any sense. Newbie was here plain as day. He gave me a hug. I can still feel… The idea crossed my mind that if I finished that sentence, not only would that thought be completely gay, but I might as well get used to the fact that I could be gay for Newbie of all people.

But…considering all the girls names…is it really that much of a leap? Newbie’s even got Jordan beat at nurturing…

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Maybe you need to lie down, Per.” She’s still babbling when I’ve clearly stopped listening.

I knew I knew that what I’d seen was wrong in every sense of the word. Just as wrong as Jack sticking M&M’s up his nose or Appletinis in general, and I’d still deliberately ignored my rational brain. For an illusion of JD.

Either I really was going insane or…

“I’m fine, Jordan.” Dropping the conversation feels pretty good, but imagining the look on Jordan’s face when I don’t call her something relating to some mythical creature is even better.

***

“Mavis!”

Newbie cringes; I imagine that he probably thinks I’m gonna beat on him some more. Yesterday, I would’ve liked nothing better.

“It wasn’t my fault,” he tells me stubbornly as he turns around. He’s defensive and I know one surefire way that’ll shut him up. I step right up close to him and match him stare for stare.

“So…are you going to…mock my shower shorts again?”

The room’s completely empty, exactly why I’ve ambushed him in here. Now or never, Perry, get it over with.

The second I’ve got my arms around him and am applying firm, but non-dangerous pressure, he looks like a deer about to get swallowed up by a pair of Sylvania headlights. That doesn’t last long though; Newbie melts into it like a…I can’t think of a good analogy, actually.

“What’s that for?”

“For everything, Newbie. I’m sorry.”

And we hugged. Dunno how long, frankly don’t care. It felt good. Sometimes, Newbie’ll catch me in the hall and I have to pretend to hate it, but I don’t bash his head in or run him into a wall or anything. They call that progress and gosh darn it, one of these days I’ll wind up kissing him.

I just kinda hope nobody else has to die for me to realize it.