Amnesia: Chapter 1
15 December 2006 01:15![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
randomweavingFic: Amnesia
Characters: John Dorian/Perry Cox
Rating: NC-17
Chapter Rating: PG-13 for language and implied m/m attraction
Description: JD awakens from an accident to find his memory is gone. Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
2dozenowies challenge community.
Warnings: None, save the rating.
Author's notes: We are kind of playing fast and loose with retrograde amnesia here, folks. We try, for the most part, to keep things medically accurate, but we're taking some artistic license for the sake of the plot. (Hell, Hollywood does it all the time with amnesia, right?).
This is also, for those of you who suffered through the cancer fic, our way of apologizing, both to you and to the characters. We knew that one was pretty heavy, so we thought we'd give you something a little lighter to soften the blow. :)
Chapter 1/4 (Chapters 2 and 3 will be posted tomorrow, and 4 will be up by Saturday)
His right foot itched. That was the first thing he noticed. It was under a blanket, next to the left, and he wanted to kick it free, to scratch. But the effort that would take seemed like too much...so instead he lay where he was, listening.
There wasn't much to listen to, just a soft beeping, a hiss from somewhere nearby, feet in the corridor. There was a scent in the air he could almost place... I'm in a hospital. His mind seemed very sure of that fact.
Why? That was harder. People went to hospitals if they were sick, or injured. He took stock of his body. Itching foot, check. Legs, unmentionables--Dude, why am I calling my cock and balls something that dumb?--arms, hands, chest, head...all accounted for, even if they didn't want to move much. He had a headache, though, and something was rubbing against his nose. His ribs hurt, too. Injured then, not sick. Probably waking from head trauma, what with the fuzzy thoughts...
But figuring out how he knew that didn't seem enough to hold his attention, and he slipped off again.
The next time he woke up, his head was clearer. He shifted, groaning a little at the soreness in his ribs, his neck, his head. "What'd I fall off of?" he tried to ask, but it came out as another low groan. And a suddenly more pressing question presented itself, as his mind tried to reach for what had put him here. And found...nothing. Not one thing. Not even the most basic. Fuck...what's my name?
The shock of that thought was enough to force his gritty eyes open.
Yep--hospital. He had a moment of triumph, but it was fleeting, as the absolute absence of any other kind of memory made a heavy, panicky feeling curl up in his gut.
There was someone by his bed. A Hispanic woman with long, curly hair and a stethoscope draped around her neck--a nurse, maybe? Or a doctor? She was watching him, eyes wide, and when his gaze locked with hers her face broke into a gigantic grin. "Hey, Bambi," she breathed, reaching out to take his hand. "I thought you might be waking up."
Bambi?! That can't really be my name, can it? God, if it is, I probably hate my parents...
He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but all that came out was a mild croak.
Apparently he sounded confused enough, however, because she offered: "You crashed your bike pretty bad; you've been out cold for almost three weeks. Had us pretty worried."
He frowned, but added this knowledge to his thin list of "Things I Definitely Know As Of Now." Crash, unconscious, hospital. Okay, got it.
"I just paged Dr. Cox," the woman continued, glancing at the door. "He should be here any minute. He's been looking after you, you know--I think he was more worried than he wanted to let on." She winked at him as if this were some big secret or joke, and he offered her a bemused smile in return, hoping that maybe if he was pleasant enough they'd give him something for this damned headache.
As if on cue, the door opened again, and a large, broad-shouldered man with curly hair wearing a white lab coat over a gray t-shirt and blue scrubs pants suddenly barreled into the room.
"Ah, Felicity!" he said, a somewhat feral grin on his face. "I see you've finally decided to terminate your beauty sleep! Honestly, I think it was a good call, because you've been asleep so long we've literally had to come by your room twice a day with a broom and chase away all your would-be admirers. Too much of a good thing, you know?"
He didn't. Not in the slightest. And so far he'd been called Bambi and Felicity, and unless he was very much mistaken, neither was his real name. These people obviously knew who he was, but they weren't helping him get any closer to figuring that out.
"Um... sure?" he managed.
"Atta girl," the man--Dr. Cox?--said, moving forward and snapping on a pair of gloves. "Just let me take a look here..." He pulled an instrument out of his coat pocket. "Look up for me?"
He did, trying not to blink as the man shone a bright light into first his right eye, then his left.
"Good," he murmured. "Good. Normal pupil reactivity. How are his vitals?"
"Within normal limits," the woman replied.
"Excuse me?" he tried, tentatively.
"Excellent. Let's go ahead and wean him off the oxygen, then, and see about getting someone from PT down to do an eval--"
"Excuse me?"
"I already paged them, they said they'd send someone as soon as they could..."
"Excuse me!"
They looked this time, both seeming a little startled. "Yeah, Bambi, what is it?"
He winced, closing his eyes against the pain in his head--the yelling hadn't done much for that. "Would one of you mind telling me exactly what's going on here?" He looked at Dr. Cox. "I assume you're my doctor?"
The man frowned. "I admitted you, yeah," he replied. He glanced at the woman, who was looking equally bemused.
"I told him," she defended. "Right when he woke up."
"Uh-huh," Cox said slowly. "Hey, Samantha--can you tell me where you are?"
Samantha? Oh for crying out... "I'll make you a deal," he snapped irritably. "I'll tell you where I am if you'll tell me my actual name."
The reaction he got was immediate. The woman--Carla--gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Dr. Cox didn't flinch, but his expression was somber. "Because you're sick of the girl's names, Newbie?" he murmured. "Or because you don't know it yourself?"
"Let's go with C, all of the above," he growled.
Carla took a step backwards, eyes bulging, and Dr. Cox closed his eyes briefly.
"Your name is John Michael Dorian," he said after a long moment of silence. "You go by JD."
Well, at least now we're getting somewhere, he thought. "JD. Okay, I'll take your word for it. Makes more sense than Bambi, anyway, and since I remember enough to know I'm not a girl it definitely makes more sense than Felicity or Samantha. What am I doing here?"
Cox glanced at Carla again, then back at him, giving him a terse smile. "Listen, I--this is a bit... unexpected," he finally said. "I think before we tell you more we need to get someone in here to give you a psych eval. Just... well, you're safe, if that makes you feel any better."
JD groaned, closing his eyes. He wanted answers, not another test. He let out a sigh, and opened his eyes again, looking up at Dr. Cox. There was something about him...JD felt himself instinctually trusting the other man, and pushed his protests down. "Safe. Yeah, okay. Can you at least tell me where here is? I know it's a hospital, but..." He trailed off, not wanting to admit he didn't even know which state he was in.
Cox hesitated. "I... I really think it's best we..." he paused, then shrugged. "Oh, hell--you're at Sacred Heart Hospital in Sherman Oaks, California. And I really can't tell you any more before the evaluation, and I shouldn't have even told you that, but I promise we're going to take care of you, okay?" He frowned. "You hit your head pretty hard when you landed, so I'm betting you've just got some temporary amnesia. But I'm no head-shrinker, so we'll just wait for him to make his appearance, whaddya say?"
Sacred Heart. California. That should mean more to him than it did. Where the hell was Sherman Oaks, anyway? JD sighed again. "Can I get something for my head before he does?" he asked, somehow expecting the answer was no.
Cox shrugged. "I can give you Tylenol now, or you can wait until after your eval and I can give you something a little stronger," he said. "I'll leave it up to you."
"I'll wait. Um...thanks." JD tried to ignore the look Carla was giving him, her eyes wide and worried. She must know him...Why would he know a nurse? Especially well enough to get a nickname like Bambi? And why had Dr. Cox been calling him girl's names? If he knew both of them...either he got hurt a lot, or he was often around the hospital for some other reason. Would explain how he knew the smell...But thinking was only making his head hurt worse, so he tried to stop.
They were silent for several awkward moments. JD glanced at the window, staring up at the sky, wishing he could at least remember what month it was.
Fortunately, a moment later, the door opened, and a bald, black man with green scrubs walked in, a grin on his face. JD noticed him a millisecond before the others--they seemed to be lost in their thoughts--and smiled. "You the psych eval guy?" he asked politely.
"Very funny, dude," the guy replied, grin not slipping. "'Bout time you woke up, Rowdy's been pining away for you."
JD furrowed his brow, glancing from the guy to Dr. Cox, wondering if he was supposed to know this person, too. "Uh...who's Rowdy? Who are you?"
Carla's eyes had widened during this exchange; now, she leapt to her feet, moving toward the man. "Turk, baby, wait, let me explain..."
"Who am I?!" the man said, face incredulous. "Baby, let go--JD, dog, tell me this is some kind of joke...?"
"No joke, Gandhi," Cox said, voice dry. "He doesn't remember. Look, we're waiting for the eval guy, so just... everybody calm down, okay? Carla, can you get him out of here for now?"
"Oh, hell no, you son of a bitch, don't you start treating me like a child!" the black man--Turk?--said, glowering at Cox before turning his gaze desperately back to JD. "Dude, come on, you know me, don't you? Your roomie? Chocolate Bear? Please..."
JD winced, feeling miserable. "I..." he twisted the sheets on his lap, looking away, unable to meet the crushed look on the other man's face. "I'm sorry," he murmured.
"Gandhi! Not helping!" Cox snapped. "Carla! Get him out of here. Now!"
JD bit his lip, not looking up again until the door swung closed behind them, Turk arguing all the way. His roommate. And the nurse, Carla...she must be with him. All right, that was how he knew them. But what about Dr. Cox? He wound the sheet tighter between his hands. "Guess he wasn't the psych eval guy, then," he offered after a few moments of silence. "This sucks..."
Cox looked at him, and JD waited for some sort of soothing platitudes--something typically doctorly--to come from him, but instead the older man simply nodded. "Yeah, it does," he said. "But it's not entirely unexpected, with the kind of knock on the head you took."
JD smiled slightly. He decided he liked this Dr. Cox. "That's something. I can start asking you questions, once the eval's over, right? Because I gotta say, I've got a shitload of 'em..."
"Glad that hasn't changed about you, at least," Cox murmured, but he smiled. "And yeah, Newbie, you can ask me questions when your eval's over."
"God, how many nicknames do I have?" JD almost laughed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I know, you can't answer, but dude..."
Cox chuckled a little, shaking his head, but before he could reply there was a knock at the door, and an elderly, rather stern-looking gentleman walked in. JD bit his lip, deciding against asking if this was the psych guy in case it turned out to be his father or something, but when Cox stood and began talking to him about his mental state, JD figured his first guess had been right.
He couldn't quite hear them, but a moment later they both turned to look at him again. "Newb--JD," Cox corrected himself. "This is Dr. Carmichael, and he's going to be doing your evaluation, so we can see what we're dealing with, exactly. I'm going to step out while he does that, but I'll be back when he's finished, okay?"
JD nodded slowly, hoping he hadn't brightened quite as much as he thought he had at the news that Dr. Cox would be right back. "Thank you, Dr. Cox." He swallowed, and looked up at the stern man in front of him, giving him a slight, worried smile and tried to think of something to say.
The man sent him through a series of questions, most very basic--his name, his birth date, his hometown. JD felt oddly like a schoolboy who was miserably failing a pop quiz; when he told the doctor he only knew his name because Cox had told it to him, the man had frowned and made a quick note.
After what felt like a short, excruciating eternity, but was in reality only about fifteen minutes, the man snapped his clipboard shut and stuck the pen back in his coat pocket. "Mm," he said (he'd been saying that a lot; JD found himself wondering if he'd just eaten a peanut butter sandwich or something equally sticky). "Looks like you've got a case of traumatic amnesia," he said, and JD very nearly rolled his eyes--like he'd needed a psychologist to tell him that?
Well, why not? You didn't even remember your name...
"It's not completely unheard of, with a head injury like yours," the man continued. "You had a pretty severe concussion when you came in, and a subcranial hematoma, which is why they had to intubate you--your intercranial pressure had gotten pretty high. Fortunately they were able to relieve it without doing a craniotomy, so you'll find you still have your hair."
The man shoved his glasses up his nose, folding his arms; JD waited for a moment, but when the silence began to stretch uncomfortably, he said, "So... what do we do?"
Carmichael raised his eyebrows. "Do?" he said. "Nothing. You're stable, so I imagine we'll prescribe some painkillers for you and send you home. Your memory should return in time."
"That's it? I just...go home, and hope it gets better?" JD wasn't sure if he felt like crying or laughing, when he realized he didn't even know where "home" was. With that Turk guy? And Rowdy, whoever the hell that was? Another doctor? "Well then...Thank you, doctor." He resisted the urge to add that he'd been a big help, because he knew he couldn't keep his tone even if he tried it.
Carmichael nodded, then turned and left the room. JD closed his eyes, trying not to panic. This would be okay--surely it would. Obviously he had friends--that Turk guy seemed to care a lot, and so did Carla, and then of course there was Dr. Cox...
He heard the door open again, and, as though he'd summoned him by thinking his name, Cox reappeared, walking over to the bed and lowering himself down on the edge. "So," he said. "I spoke to Carmichael. Traumatic amnesia--do you remember what that means, or should I explain it to you?"
JD opened his mouth to ask why he'd know, but instead heard himself say, "Organic damage, usually due to head trauma, most often transient and linked to the severity of the injury. And this is retrograde, since I've lost my past, but doesn't seem to be anterograde." He snapped his mouth shut, eyes widening as he looked up. "And how the hell do I know that?"
Cox was grinning broadly. "Because you're a doctor," he replied.
JD stared at him. "I--I am?"
"Yeah," Cox said. Then, "Well, sort of. You're actually a first-year resident, but you've completed med school and your internship."
"I'm a doctor. Dude..." JD just let himself boggle for a second, before wincing slightly at another stab from his headache. "I guess that explains why all of you know me. And can I get something for my head now...?"
"I already wrote you a prescription for percocet," Cox said. "Carla's going to the pharmacy to get it. And yes, that's why we know you. Your bald buddy back there was upset because you've actually been joined at his hip for about nine and a half years."
"So I'm...first year resident..." JD paused, thinking hard through the pain in his head. "How old am I? Fuck, I can't believe I don't know this stuff..." Should he be cursing in front of Cox? He still wasn't sure how he knew him, aside from the bare fact they must've worked together. "And nine years...God, no wonder he freaked out. Why was he talking about chocolate bears, though? And who's Rowdy?" He blushed, suddenly, realizing he was firing out questions he didn't even know if Cox would know the answers to. "Or should I just shut up and get some sleep?"
Cox tilted his head. "Well, now, that'd be up to you, wouldn't it?" he said. "Do you want answers or do you want to sleep?"
"Apparently I've been sleeping for three weeks. I'd rather have the answers..."
"Fair enough," Cox said. "To answer your questions: You just turned twenty-seven last week, Chocolate Bear is what you call Gandhi back there, and Rowdy is a dead stuffed yellow lab that the two of you, for whatever reason, have a very unnatural obsession with and insist upon keeping and treating as though he were alive."
JD nodded slowly. "Okay. I don't have to ask you if I'm weird, because that answered that. And if I've got a dead dog in my apartment, I'm guessing I'm single..."
Cox snorted, lifting an eyebrow. "You guess correctly," he said. "After all, having a girlfriend would really get in the way of your having sex with my ex-wife."
"I..." JD's eyes bugged, and he felt himself blushing. "I have sex with your ex-wife?"
Cox actually laughed. "Relax, Newbie, you only did it once, and you didn't know who she was," he said, still chuckling.
"Um. Good?" JD found himself laughing. Tiredly, but with true amusement. "Okay, we have to make a rule. You can feed me as much crap as you want, but let me know afterwards? Though the dog thing is too strange not to be true..."
"Fair enough," Cox said again. "And yes, the dog thing is true. Much as Carla wishes it weren't. And ah, speaking of..." he looked toward the door, which opened, and Carla poked her head in tentatively.
"Someone order the percocet...?" She asked softly.
JD smiled shyly at her, mind scrabbling to link her face to anything besides the moments when he'd woken up. And...nothing. Damn. "Think that's for me. Thanks, Carla." He hesitated, fingers playing in the sheets again, wanting to ask how Turk was, and not sure he wanted to know the answer. Nine years. God...
Cox noted his discomfort, apparently, and moved forward, taking the white paper bag from her and nodding his thanks. "Let's let him rest before we call in the troops, okay?" JD heard him say softly to her.
She nodded, giving JD a hesitant smile before backing out of the room. Cox turned back to him, studying his face and taking note of his blush. "You don't have anything to be ashamed of, kid," he said softly.
"I know I don't...I mean, it's not my fault I can't remember them, right? But..." JD let out a sigh, shifting a little on the bed. "Thank you." He wasn't sure how close he and Cox were supposed to be, but he was incredibly grateful for the man's steady presence now. JD didn't feel like he was expecting something, and the subtle ways the older doctor was protecting him had warmth spreading through him.
Didn't hurt that Cox was easy on the eyes, either, JD decided, watching him get water and shake out a pill. Big, obviously in shape, ruggedly handsome face...even the extra curly hair was attractive, making his fingers want to touch it, run through it...
He brought himself up short on that line of thought. Shit...am I gay? He said I slept with his ex-wife, though, and that I didn't have a girlfriend, but... But he couldn't deny Cox was one fine looking man.
Which brought him to another thought that crushed his embarrassment. "Dr. Cox? Is there...is there a mirror in here?"
Cox glanced at him. "In the bathroom," he said, returning to his bedside and handing him the small round pill and a glass of water. "I could track down a smaller one, or--if you want to try walking, I could help you in there. Wondering what you look like?"
JD blushed, and nodded carefully, again soothed by the way Cox just rolled with it, not making a big deal out of something that he thought most people would've. He tilted his head back and popped the pill in his mouth, swallowing it quickly with a glass of water. "Yeah..." he said after he'd downed the rest of the glass. "And is it okay for me to get up? If I've been in bed this long, I mean..."
"Wouldn't have offered if it wasn't okay," Cox replied lightly. "You're hooked to a catheter, so let me unhook that from the bed, but then we'll be good to go."
He moved forward, unhooking the bag from the side of the bed. "We'll get someone to d'c this when you're back in bed, and bring you a bedside urinal instead," Cox said. "A little easier than messing with the tube--not something you want to get caught on something, you know?"
JD snorted, nodding fervently. Cox grinned at him, then hooked the clip on the bag--which JD was grateful to see had recently been emptied--in the elastic of his scrubs. He then held out one arm. "I'm going to let you pull yourself up, if you can," he said. "And I'll let you do as much unaided walking as you want to try, but don't overdo it, okay? You've been in bed for over three weeks; your legs will have atrophied a little."
JD nodded, wondering why he wasn't embarrassed by Dr. Cox's attentions. It seemed like he should've been, but he wasn't. Pushing it out of his mind, he got himself up--with only a bit of help--and started across the floor, leaning on the other man as much as he needed to. Which was less, by the end of it, when his head stopped spinning quite so much.
Soon enough, they were there, Cox pushing the door out of the way, flipping the light on and then just standing unobtrusively beside him. JD raised his eyes to the mirror, slowly letting his bottom lip escape his teeth.
The face looking back at him was pale and worried. It was a good face, though, he decided after a moment. Lips just too full for a guy, nose too long, but he had nice eyes, and unusually expressive eyebrows, which were furrowed just then. He relaxed, smiling a little, then more when he saw the good-natured lines it created. He was slightly tempted to make faces at himself--and knew he would've if Dr. Cox hadn't been standing right there--but this little bit was enough. "Okay. I can live with that," he said, glancing at Cox in the mirror.
The older man was smirking slightly, but he nodded. "No reason not to," he said gruffly. "You ready to head back to bed?"
JD nodded, raising one hand to run it back through his hair, pausing for a second when he'd pulled his bangs up off his forehead, something niggling at the back of his mind. He shrugged it off, trying not to think of how he and Cox looked next to each other. Take away the hospital gown, and he thought it was rather a nice view... God, I'm insane, perving after my doctor. Who knows a hell of a lot more about me than I do about him right now. "Yeah...Think I should get some sleep."
"I think that's a good idea," Cox said mildly. "That percocet will be kicking in soon." He began leading JD back out of the bedroom; JD found he had to rely on Cox's presence to keep him upright a lot more than he had on the way to the bathroom. He flushed, slightly embarrassed, but Cox took it in stride, his arm strong and sure as he gripped JD's. "I'd like you to try to eat a few crackers, too, if you think you can manage," the older man said. "That percocet will make you nauseated if you don't eat something with it."
"Sure, I'll give it a try," JD replied, gratefully easing himself back down into bed. "Don't think I need to add nausea to everything else..." He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. "Anything else I should know, before I sleep? There's too much...too much to think about what to ask."
"Nah," Cox said, shaking his head after a moment's consideration. "Nothing pressing, other than not to worry. This kind of amnesia tends to fade within a few days, or a few weeks at worst." He grinned, giving JD a thumbs up. "I'll send someone in with some saltines. Try to sleep after you eat them. I doubt you'll have much trouble--you've proven you're pretty good at it."
"Sleeping? It doesn't take a lot of skill..." JD yawned, and giggled softly. "Think I'm mostly there already. Dr. Cox...thank you. So much. You're making this a lot easier than I think it could've been..."
For some reason, Cox snorted, looking a little surprised--though JD got the distinct impression it was aimed at himself. "I--yeah, no problem," he said. The grin had slipped from his face, but he replaced it with a more genuine smile. "G'night, Newbie."
JD reminded himself to ask about the nickname later, but for now merely reached out and squeezed the other man's hand lightly, before releasing it again. "Night. I'll...I'll see you tomorrow, right?"
Cox simply stared at him for a moment, expression unreadable; then, clearing his throat, he looked down. "I--yeah, of course. See you."
Then he turned and left the room. JD wondered if he'd somehow offended the man, but found himself too tired to worry about it. The last thought that crossed his mind as he drifted into sleep was he hoped whoever brought him the crackers didn't try to wake him up to eat them.
* * *
Perry stepped out of JD's room and immediately fell back against the wall, bringing his hands up to rub his face. See you tomorrow. It hadn't even crossed his mind to say that he was actually off tomorrow--and he knew it wasn't because he'd forgotten. He'd agreed knowing full well he was off, and at the same time knowing full well he'd be there anyway.
What are you doing, Perry? That's Newbie in there, not some... some piece of ass you can just flirt with and damned be the consequences. You're his boss, whether he remembers it or not, and right now you're being anything but professional!
He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head sharply. Jesus. Yeah, okay, he'd been attracted to JD for a while--months, really--but he'd never planned to do anything about it. First of all, he'd done too damn good a job painting his usual self-portrait as "Evil Dr. Cox" from day one to start changing now. The kid would never believe it even if he tried. Secondly, it... well, JD was his subordinate. He could never be sure, even if he did admit to his feelings and JD reacted favorably, if the kid really felt... well, anything for him, or was just afraid to tell him no.
Or worse, told him yes hoping for special treatment or career advancement.
Besides, what did he want from Newbie, anyway? Up until three weeks ago, he'd figured his attraction was strictly physical. He was human, after all, and Newbie... well, Newbie wasn't hard on the eyes. But when they'd wheeled him into the ER, pale and broken and bleeding, Perry knew that, based on the way his heart had decided to take up permanent residence in his throat, his feelings for JD went beyond the whole mentor-with-the-slight-attraction-to-his-student thing.
What he did feel, he still wasn't sure; he'd carefully ignored this revelation in favor of focusing on JD's recovery. He'd slipped into the worried doctor routine, and no one had questioned it, because JD had been in pretty bad shape, at least at first. It had been pretty touch-and-go for that first week, so there hadn't been a reason to question his near constant presence at the kid's bedside. And even as time passed, and JD started to recover physically, the fact that he'd still been in a coma had been excuse enough.
But now... well, now JD was awake. Sure, he didn't remember squat, but like he'd told the kid himself, that wasn't terribly unusual following such a severe concussion.
Yet Perry was planning to come in on his day off just to hold his hand?
That's not fair, a more rational voice within him said. He's scared, and for some reason he's attached himself to you. It's pretty common for a patient suffering from amnesia to designate a caretaker--a safeguard. When everyone around you knows more about your life than you do, it's hard to know whom to trust.
Well, sure. But by rights, that person should've been Gandhi. Maybe, maybe, Barbie or Carla. Not him.
He drew a deep breath and pushed himself away from the wall, wandering back toward the nurse's station to check on his other patient charts. JD had looked so... so young, in there. So helpless. If Perry hadn't already suspected he'd fallen for the kid, well... the way he'd smiled at him in the mirror would've taken care of that in a heartbeat.
Shit. What was he going to do?
Don't worry, the more cynical voice piped up. Soon enough his memory will return, and he'll go right back to having that love-hate mentor thing for you, and you can call him girl's names and watch him chase Barbie and basically go right back to being your miserable lonely self, trying to drag everyone else down with you by being a grade-A asshole in the meantime.
Yeah. He sighed, grabbing the first patient chart he found and flipping it open without even bothering to check if it was one of his. Yeah, things would settle down, once JD remembered... well, everything. The sooner that happened, the better, so Perry would do all he could to help him remember, even if it meant coming in on his days off.
Pure motives, Perry. Very pure.
He ignored the voice this time, scowling as he grabbed a pen and began to scribble an order. So what if his motives weren't the purest? For once, what he wanted to do and what needed to be done actually coincided; he'd be damned if he'd waste that opportunity. Heaven knew it was rare, and it sure as hell wouldn't last long anyway.
It never did.
* * *
JD's dreams were incredibly strange, full of people he almost knew, and more he didn't asking him why not. He was almost relieved, when he felt a light hand on his arm and a soft voice calling his name. "Hmm?" he managed, blinking slowly.
An attractive blond woman in blue scrubs was leaning over him, smiling hesitantly. "Hey, JD. I've got your crackers..."
JD blinked again, reaching up to rub his eyes. From her attitude, he knew he should know her, but nothing was coming to mind. His mind cast back, but he couldn't place her. "Thanks. Um, I'm sorry, I don't..."
"Oh!" She blushed and grinned. "I'm Elliot. We're...well, we know each other, and we're both residents, and we dated for a while last year--which was an absolute disaster--and now we're just good friends. But don't worry, I know you don't know any of that. Can you try and eat? Dr. Cox was really insistent about it..."
I dated her? I have good taste... JD nodded slowly at the rush of information, wishing it was Cox sitting there instead, and feeling a little guilty for it. "Okay. Elliot. And yeah, I think I can manage, thanks." She helped him sit up, and he took the crackers from her, eating them slowly, trying to think what to say. "Um..."
"I know, this is totally awkward, isn't it?" she replied with a hesitant grin. "I want to ask you how you're doing, and be all supportive and everything, but I don't want overwhelm you, and Dr. Cox threatened to kill me if I did--you don't have to tell him I told you that--so I'm not sure I should say anything at all and..."
"Do you always talk so fast?" JD asked, wondering when she breathed.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, usually."
He grinned to himself and fell silent, just listening to her. It was actually kind of restful, listening to her go on and on, knowing he wasn't required to reply. And he couldn't help the small bubble of appreciation that had grown within in him at hearing Dr. Cox was warning people away from making things too hard on him. He wasn't sure what he'd done, to inspire the older doctor to go above and beyond like this, but he was glad of it.
"Elliot?" he asked finally, when she paused for breath. "How's Turk? He seemed really upset, before, and..." JD sighed. "Dr. Cox said I've known him for almost ten years, so I don't blame him."
Elliot didn't answer right away, picking at a loose thread on the blanket she sat on. "You've been roommates with him since your freshman year of college," she offered after a moment. "And Carla gets jealous, sometimes, of how close the two of you are. So he's...he's pretty upset, but he'll be okay. And JD, it's not your fault, so don't feel guilty, okay? Besides, you should start remembering things really fast, complete retrograde amnesia is totally rare...Even if the movies don't think so."
It was easy for her to say not to feel guilty, but JD couldn't quite help it. Closer to him than his girlfriend, and I asked him who he was...God. "Okay..." He let out his breath slowly. "Everyone keeps telling me it's temporary." He was silent for a moment, and so was she, and the tension grew too thick. He had to break it. "So...am I any good in the sack?"
"What?!" Elliot looked up, shocked, and then started giggling when she saw the look on his face. "You're okay." She winked.
"Just okay?"
"All right, maybe better than okay," Elliot amended, still giggling. "But you should get some more sleep, and I've got patients to see...I'll see you later, okay?"
"Okay," JD replied, finding himself smiling back at her. "Elliot? Thanks."
"Don't mention it. Bye."
She left, and he settled back down, letting his mind drift where it would, slowly falling back to sleep.
* * *
Cox was there, when he woke again. JD couldn't help the smile that slid onto his face, but he was silent for a moment--the older man hadn't realized he'd woken up, so JD took a moment to just study him.
He was sitting next to the bed, one foot propped up on the bed frame, and he was frowning as he read what JD could only guess was his own chart. But there was something different... something not quite right about--
It hit him suddenly, as he woke more fully: Dr. Cox was wearing a black polo shirt and a faded pair of blue jeans. Street clothes.
What...?
Okay, distracting himself from just staring at the older man's forearms--not an easy task, because damn--JD tried to work it out, hating the fuzziness that still seemed to permeate the corners of his mind. If Cox was in street clothes, he probably had the day off. But then why was he here? Maybe this was another dream...
"Dr. Cox?" he asked, voice hesitant.
Cox jumped, nearly dropping the chart, and sat up quickly. His face melted into a grin after a moment, though, and he put his hand over his heart, shaking his head. "Geez," he said. "No coffee necessary for me today, I guess, huh?"
JD giggled. "Guess not. I'll clear my throat or something, next time..." He supposed it made sense, if he'd been asleep for three weeks...Cox must've gotten used to him just lying there, and not moving or saying anything. "Um. Hi?"
"Hi," Cox replied, not seeming to know what else to say either. There was a moment of shy silence, then Cox cleared his throat. "I've, uh... I've been looking over your chart," he said. "All your cognitive functioning based on the psych eval seems to be normal, so it's really just the memory. We'll do a CT scan again just to be sure, but I'd say you'll recover soon enough." He looked over at JD, discomfort slipping away as he fell into "doctor mode"--a transformation so plain JD almost imagined he could see the lab coat and stethoscope. "Do you remember anything more since yesterday?"
JD started to say no, then stopped, his brow furrowing. "I have an older brother. Who used to beat the crap out of me... His name's Dan? And it snowed, where I grew up. A lot." He smiled slightly. "I guess I do, yeah." He settled himself back, ignoring the lingering soreness in his ribs. "It's your day off, isn't it?"
Cox, who had been nodding encouragingly at JD's memories, suddenly looked away, clearly embarrassed. "I--um. Well... technically, I guess. But I've... I mean, it's not that unusual for me to show up on my days off anyway..." he trailed off, then said, "So, you remember Dan, huh? That's good... he was here not too long ago. There's... shall we say, there's not much love lost between him and me, but it's still a good sign you remember him." He was babbling, clearly trying to change the subject. JD couldn't help but grin.
"As far as I can tell, I don't like him very much, either," JD replied, taking momentary pity on Cox's embarrassment, though it amused him as well. "But then that could be because it's mostly younger stuff, now...That's normal, right? Remembering early things first?" He wasn't sure if Cox really did come in on his days off, but he figured part of the reason the older man was here today was because of him. And he could definitely live with that.
Cox nodded vigorously. "Absolutely," he said. "It's unusual to have this kind of complete loss, of course, but it's a very good sign that you're starting to remember things. Of course..." he frowned, glancing through the chart again the looking up at JD. "If you'd really forgotten even your childhood, it may mean some of the more recent things will take a bit longer to return than we estimated."
"Months instead of weeks?" JD asked, ignoring the clenching in his gut. He'd be leaving the hospital in a few days, and he didn't know where he was going, how he was going to live...somehow he doubted you were allowed to be a doctor when you couldn't remember med school.
Cox winced. "It's unlikely, of course, but... well, so is this whole thing, so I'd have to say it's not outside the realm of possibility." He looked at JD, face softening with sympathy. "Hey, don't worry about it too much--just focus on feeling better for now."
JD nodded slowly, putting the possibility out of his mind. He'd remember everything soon, he had to. "Good advice, except I don't really feel that bad. Just this headache and my ribs...I guess I cracked them? What happened, other than my head getting knocked around?"
"It... you were hit by a car," Cox said after a moment. "On your bicycle. It was raining, and dark, and I guess they just didn't see you, or they couldn't stop in time--we don't know, because the bastards didn't stop." His eyes darkened, face drawing in on a furious scowl, and JD had to swallow--he would not, he decided, ever want to be on the receiving end of that look. "Anyway--someone called the hospital, and they brought you in here. We..." he paused again, and looked down. "We weren't very sure you were going to pull through, at first. You broke several ribs, and your head--you'd lost quite a bit of blood, by the time they got you in, and you went into hypovolemic shock. You actually crashed once, but we were able to stop the bleeding and transfuse quickly enough that we got your heart started again." He chuckled humorlessly. "Still not something I'd care to relive," he said softly.
"Kinda hope I don't remember that," JD murmured, fingers twisting in the sheets again. "Shit...No wonder everyone was so relieved when I woke up. Then I had to freak you all out all over again..."
"Not your fault, Newbie," Cox replied, shaking his head.
"Why do you call me that?" JD asked, remembering he'd wanted to. "And what was with the girl's names, when I woke up?"
Cox stared at him, seemingly at a loss. "I..." he broke off, hesitant. "Well, when you first started working here, I called you that because you were. A newbie, I mean. It just kind of... stuck."
"And the girl's names?" JD prompted.
Cox shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "You're... kind of a girly guy, honestly. It's just... a habit, I guess."
"I'm girly?" JD hesitated, but it felt true as he said it, so he didn't argue. Great. "Think I like 'Newbie' better, frankly. But I still say you people have too many nicknames for me." He grinned a little. "So what do people call you?"
"To my face?" Cox said without thinking, rolling his eyes a little. "Dr. Cox, mostly."
To his face? How much of a hardass was Cox, anyway? "Then I'll stick with that," JD replied, shifting again. "Can I get something to eat? I think I'm hungry. Those crackers weren't very filling and that must've been ages ago..."
"Yeah, of course," Cox said. "I'll go have them order something. Anything in particular sound good?"
"No...not really. Just food." JD settled back, images of food flashing through his mind, meals with his family, a Christmas Dan threw mashed potatoes at him, bath afterward, playing with his new doctor's kit, bundling up to go into the snow, watching the weather to hope schools were closed in..."Ohio. I grew up in Trotwood, Ohio," he said, then blushed. "Sorry. Think I'm going to be lord of the non sequitur for a while..."
Cox actually laughed. "Believe me, kid," he said. "We're used to that."
"That's not terribly reassuring," JD replied dryly, but almost grinned, starting to relax. He was remembering things. This would all be all right, in time.
* * *
Next Chapter
* * *
Characters: John Dorian/Perry Cox
Rating: NC-17
Chapter Rating: PG-13 for language and implied m/m attraction
Description: JD awakens from an accident to find his memory is gone. Written for the
2dozenowies challenge community.Warnings: None, save the rating.
Author's notes: We are kind of playing fast and loose with retrograde amnesia here, folks. We try, for the most part, to keep things medically accurate, but we're taking some artistic license for the sake of the plot. (Hell, Hollywood does it all the time with amnesia, right?).
This is also, for those of you who suffered through the cancer fic, our way of apologizing, both to you and to the characters. We knew that one was pretty heavy, so we thought we'd give you something a little lighter to soften the blow. :)
Chapter 1/4 (Chapters 2 and 3 will be posted tomorrow, and 4 will be up by Saturday)
His right foot itched. That was the first thing he noticed. It was under a blanket, next to the left, and he wanted to kick it free, to scratch. But the effort that would take seemed like too much...so instead he lay where he was, listening.
There wasn't much to listen to, just a soft beeping, a hiss from somewhere nearby, feet in the corridor. There was a scent in the air he could almost place... I'm in a hospital. His mind seemed very sure of that fact.
Why? That was harder. People went to hospitals if they were sick, or injured. He took stock of his body. Itching foot, check. Legs, unmentionables--Dude, why am I calling my cock and balls something that dumb?--arms, hands, chest, head...all accounted for, even if they didn't want to move much. He had a headache, though, and something was rubbing against his nose. His ribs hurt, too. Injured then, not sick. Probably waking from head trauma, what with the fuzzy thoughts...
But figuring out how he knew that didn't seem enough to hold his attention, and he slipped off again.
The next time he woke up, his head was clearer. He shifted, groaning a little at the soreness in his ribs, his neck, his head. "What'd I fall off of?" he tried to ask, but it came out as another low groan. And a suddenly more pressing question presented itself, as his mind tried to reach for what had put him here. And found...nothing. Not one thing. Not even the most basic. Fuck...what's my name?
The shock of that thought was enough to force his gritty eyes open.
Yep--hospital. He had a moment of triumph, but it was fleeting, as the absolute absence of any other kind of memory made a heavy, panicky feeling curl up in his gut.
There was someone by his bed. A Hispanic woman with long, curly hair and a stethoscope draped around her neck--a nurse, maybe? Or a doctor? She was watching him, eyes wide, and when his gaze locked with hers her face broke into a gigantic grin. "Hey, Bambi," she breathed, reaching out to take his hand. "I thought you might be waking up."
Bambi?! That can't really be my name, can it? God, if it is, I probably hate my parents...
He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but all that came out was a mild croak.
Apparently he sounded confused enough, however, because she offered: "You crashed your bike pretty bad; you've been out cold for almost three weeks. Had us pretty worried."
He frowned, but added this knowledge to his thin list of "Things I Definitely Know As Of Now." Crash, unconscious, hospital. Okay, got it.
"I just paged Dr. Cox," the woman continued, glancing at the door. "He should be here any minute. He's been looking after you, you know--I think he was more worried than he wanted to let on." She winked at him as if this were some big secret or joke, and he offered her a bemused smile in return, hoping that maybe if he was pleasant enough they'd give him something for this damned headache.
As if on cue, the door opened again, and a large, broad-shouldered man with curly hair wearing a white lab coat over a gray t-shirt and blue scrubs pants suddenly barreled into the room.
"Ah, Felicity!" he said, a somewhat feral grin on his face. "I see you've finally decided to terminate your beauty sleep! Honestly, I think it was a good call, because you've been asleep so long we've literally had to come by your room twice a day with a broom and chase away all your would-be admirers. Too much of a good thing, you know?"
He didn't. Not in the slightest. And so far he'd been called Bambi and Felicity, and unless he was very much mistaken, neither was his real name. These people obviously knew who he was, but they weren't helping him get any closer to figuring that out.
"Um... sure?" he managed.
"Atta girl," the man--Dr. Cox?--said, moving forward and snapping on a pair of gloves. "Just let me take a look here..." He pulled an instrument out of his coat pocket. "Look up for me?"
He did, trying not to blink as the man shone a bright light into first his right eye, then his left.
"Good," he murmured. "Good. Normal pupil reactivity. How are his vitals?"
"Within normal limits," the woman replied.
"Excuse me?" he tried, tentatively.
"Excellent. Let's go ahead and wean him off the oxygen, then, and see about getting someone from PT down to do an eval--"
"Excuse me?"
"I already paged them, they said they'd send someone as soon as they could..."
"Excuse me!"
They looked this time, both seeming a little startled. "Yeah, Bambi, what is it?"
He winced, closing his eyes against the pain in his head--the yelling hadn't done much for that. "Would one of you mind telling me exactly what's going on here?" He looked at Dr. Cox. "I assume you're my doctor?"
The man frowned. "I admitted you, yeah," he replied. He glanced at the woman, who was looking equally bemused.
"I told him," she defended. "Right when he woke up."
"Uh-huh," Cox said slowly. "Hey, Samantha--can you tell me where you are?"
Samantha? Oh for crying out... "I'll make you a deal," he snapped irritably. "I'll tell you where I am if you'll tell me my actual name."
The reaction he got was immediate. The woman--Carla--gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Dr. Cox didn't flinch, but his expression was somber. "Because you're sick of the girl's names, Newbie?" he murmured. "Or because you don't know it yourself?"
"Let's go with C, all of the above," he growled.
Carla took a step backwards, eyes bulging, and Dr. Cox closed his eyes briefly.
"Your name is John Michael Dorian," he said after a long moment of silence. "You go by JD."
Well, at least now we're getting somewhere, he thought. "JD. Okay, I'll take your word for it. Makes more sense than Bambi, anyway, and since I remember enough to know I'm not a girl it definitely makes more sense than Felicity or Samantha. What am I doing here?"
Cox glanced at Carla again, then back at him, giving him a terse smile. "Listen, I--this is a bit... unexpected," he finally said. "I think before we tell you more we need to get someone in here to give you a psych eval. Just... well, you're safe, if that makes you feel any better."
JD groaned, closing his eyes. He wanted answers, not another test. He let out a sigh, and opened his eyes again, looking up at Dr. Cox. There was something about him...JD felt himself instinctually trusting the other man, and pushed his protests down. "Safe. Yeah, okay. Can you at least tell me where here is? I know it's a hospital, but..." He trailed off, not wanting to admit he didn't even know which state he was in.
Cox hesitated. "I... I really think it's best we..." he paused, then shrugged. "Oh, hell--you're at Sacred Heart Hospital in Sherman Oaks, California. And I really can't tell you any more before the evaluation, and I shouldn't have even told you that, but I promise we're going to take care of you, okay?" He frowned. "You hit your head pretty hard when you landed, so I'm betting you've just got some temporary amnesia. But I'm no head-shrinker, so we'll just wait for him to make his appearance, whaddya say?"
Sacred Heart. California. That should mean more to him than it did. Where the hell was Sherman Oaks, anyway? JD sighed again. "Can I get something for my head before he does?" he asked, somehow expecting the answer was no.
Cox shrugged. "I can give you Tylenol now, or you can wait until after your eval and I can give you something a little stronger," he said. "I'll leave it up to you."
"I'll wait. Um...thanks." JD tried to ignore the look Carla was giving him, her eyes wide and worried. She must know him...Why would he know a nurse? Especially well enough to get a nickname like Bambi? And why had Dr. Cox been calling him girl's names? If he knew both of them...either he got hurt a lot, or he was often around the hospital for some other reason. Would explain how he knew the smell...But thinking was only making his head hurt worse, so he tried to stop.
They were silent for several awkward moments. JD glanced at the window, staring up at the sky, wishing he could at least remember what month it was.
Fortunately, a moment later, the door opened, and a bald, black man with green scrubs walked in, a grin on his face. JD noticed him a millisecond before the others--they seemed to be lost in their thoughts--and smiled. "You the psych eval guy?" he asked politely.
"Very funny, dude," the guy replied, grin not slipping. "'Bout time you woke up, Rowdy's been pining away for you."
JD furrowed his brow, glancing from the guy to Dr. Cox, wondering if he was supposed to know this person, too. "Uh...who's Rowdy? Who are you?"
Carla's eyes had widened during this exchange; now, she leapt to her feet, moving toward the man. "Turk, baby, wait, let me explain..."
"Who am I?!" the man said, face incredulous. "Baby, let go--JD, dog, tell me this is some kind of joke...?"
"No joke, Gandhi," Cox said, voice dry. "He doesn't remember. Look, we're waiting for the eval guy, so just... everybody calm down, okay? Carla, can you get him out of here for now?"
"Oh, hell no, you son of a bitch, don't you start treating me like a child!" the black man--Turk?--said, glowering at Cox before turning his gaze desperately back to JD. "Dude, come on, you know me, don't you? Your roomie? Chocolate Bear? Please..."
JD winced, feeling miserable. "I..." he twisted the sheets on his lap, looking away, unable to meet the crushed look on the other man's face. "I'm sorry," he murmured.
"Gandhi! Not helping!" Cox snapped. "Carla! Get him out of here. Now!"
JD bit his lip, not looking up again until the door swung closed behind them, Turk arguing all the way. His roommate. And the nurse, Carla...she must be with him. All right, that was how he knew them. But what about Dr. Cox? He wound the sheet tighter between his hands. "Guess he wasn't the psych eval guy, then," he offered after a few moments of silence. "This sucks..."
Cox looked at him, and JD waited for some sort of soothing platitudes--something typically doctorly--to come from him, but instead the older man simply nodded. "Yeah, it does," he said. "But it's not entirely unexpected, with the kind of knock on the head you took."
JD smiled slightly. He decided he liked this Dr. Cox. "That's something. I can start asking you questions, once the eval's over, right? Because I gotta say, I've got a shitload of 'em..."
"Glad that hasn't changed about you, at least," Cox murmured, but he smiled. "And yeah, Newbie, you can ask me questions when your eval's over."
"God, how many nicknames do I have?" JD almost laughed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I know, you can't answer, but dude..."
Cox chuckled a little, shaking his head, but before he could reply there was a knock at the door, and an elderly, rather stern-looking gentleman walked in. JD bit his lip, deciding against asking if this was the psych guy in case it turned out to be his father or something, but when Cox stood and began talking to him about his mental state, JD figured his first guess had been right.
He couldn't quite hear them, but a moment later they both turned to look at him again. "Newb--JD," Cox corrected himself. "This is Dr. Carmichael, and he's going to be doing your evaluation, so we can see what we're dealing with, exactly. I'm going to step out while he does that, but I'll be back when he's finished, okay?"
JD nodded slowly, hoping he hadn't brightened quite as much as he thought he had at the news that Dr. Cox would be right back. "Thank you, Dr. Cox." He swallowed, and looked up at the stern man in front of him, giving him a slight, worried smile and tried to think of something to say.
The man sent him through a series of questions, most very basic--his name, his birth date, his hometown. JD felt oddly like a schoolboy who was miserably failing a pop quiz; when he told the doctor he only knew his name because Cox had told it to him, the man had frowned and made a quick note.
After what felt like a short, excruciating eternity, but was in reality only about fifteen minutes, the man snapped his clipboard shut and stuck the pen back in his coat pocket. "Mm," he said (he'd been saying that a lot; JD found himself wondering if he'd just eaten a peanut butter sandwich or something equally sticky). "Looks like you've got a case of traumatic amnesia," he said, and JD very nearly rolled his eyes--like he'd needed a psychologist to tell him that?
Well, why not? You didn't even remember your name...
"It's not completely unheard of, with a head injury like yours," the man continued. "You had a pretty severe concussion when you came in, and a subcranial hematoma, which is why they had to intubate you--your intercranial pressure had gotten pretty high. Fortunately they were able to relieve it without doing a craniotomy, so you'll find you still have your hair."
The man shoved his glasses up his nose, folding his arms; JD waited for a moment, but when the silence began to stretch uncomfortably, he said, "So... what do we do?"
Carmichael raised his eyebrows. "Do?" he said. "Nothing. You're stable, so I imagine we'll prescribe some painkillers for you and send you home. Your memory should return in time."
"That's it? I just...go home, and hope it gets better?" JD wasn't sure if he felt like crying or laughing, when he realized he didn't even know where "home" was. With that Turk guy? And Rowdy, whoever the hell that was? Another doctor? "Well then...Thank you, doctor." He resisted the urge to add that he'd been a big help, because he knew he couldn't keep his tone even if he tried it.
Carmichael nodded, then turned and left the room. JD closed his eyes, trying not to panic. This would be okay--surely it would. Obviously he had friends--that Turk guy seemed to care a lot, and so did Carla, and then of course there was Dr. Cox...
He heard the door open again, and, as though he'd summoned him by thinking his name, Cox reappeared, walking over to the bed and lowering himself down on the edge. "So," he said. "I spoke to Carmichael. Traumatic amnesia--do you remember what that means, or should I explain it to you?"
JD opened his mouth to ask why he'd know, but instead heard himself say, "Organic damage, usually due to head trauma, most often transient and linked to the severity of the injury. And this is retrograde, since I've lost my past, but doesn't seem to be anterograde." He snapped his mouth shut, eyes widening as he looked up. "And how the hell do I know that?"
Cox was grinning broadly. "Because you're a doctor," he replied.
JD stared at him. "I--I am?"
"Yeah," Cox said. Then, "Well, sort of. You're actually a first-year resident, but you've completed med school and your internship."
"I'm a doctor. Dude..." JD just let himself boggle for a second, before wincing slightly at another stab from his headache. "I guess that explains why all of you know me. And can I get something for my head now...?"
"I already wrote you a prescription for percocet," Cox said. "Carla's going to the pharmacy to get it. And yes, that's why we know you. Your bald buddy back there was upset because you've actually been joined at his hip for about nine and a half years."
"So I'm...first year resident..." JD paused, thinking hard through the pain in his head. "How old am I? Fuck, I can't believe I don't know this stuff..." Should he be cursing in front of Cox? He still wasn't sure how he knew him, aside from the bare fact they must've worked together. "And nine years...God, no wonder he freaked out. Why was he talking about chocolate bears, though? And who's Rowdy?" He blushed, suddenly, realizing he was firing out questions he didn't even know if Cox would know the answers to. "Or should I just shut up and get some sleep?"
Cox tilted his head. "Well, now, that'd be up to you, wouldn't it?" he said. "Do you want answers or do you want to sleep?"
"Apparently I've been sleeping for three weeks. I'd rather have the answers..."
"Fair enough," Cox said. "To answer your questions: You just turned twenty-seven last week, Chocolate Bear is what you call Gandhi back there, and Rowdy is a dead stuffed yellow lab that the two of you, for whatever reason, have a very unnatural obsession with and insist upon keeping and treating as though he were alive."
JD nodded slowly. "Okay. I don't have to ask you if I'm weird, because that answered that. And if I've got a dead dog in my apartment, I'm guessing I'm single..."
Cox snorted, lifting an eyebrow. "You guess correctly," he said. "After all, having a girlfriend would really get in the way of your having sex with my ex-wife."
"I..." JD's eyes bugged, and he felt himself blushing. "I have sex with your ex-wife?"
Cox actually laughed. "Relax, Newbie, you only did it once, and you didn't know who she was," he said, still chuckling.
"Um. Good?" JD found himself laughing. Tiredly, but with true amusement. "Okay, we have to make a rule. You can feed me as much crap as you want, but let me know afterwards? Though the dog thing is too strange not to be true..."
"Fair enough," Cox said again. "And yes, the dog thing is true. Much as Carla wishes it weren't. And ah, speaking of..." he looked toward the door, which opened, and Carla poked her head in tentatively.
"Someone order the percocet...?" She asked softly.
JD smiled shyly at her, mind scrabbling to link her face to anything besides the moments when he'd woken up. And...nothing. Damn. "Think that's for me. Thanks, Carla." He hesitated, fingers playing in the sheets again, wanting to ask how Turk was, and not sure he wanted to know the answer. Nine years. God...
Cox noted his discomfort, apparently, and moved forward, taking the white paper bag from her and nodding his thanks. "Let's let him rest before we call in the troops, okay?" JD heard him say softly to her.
She nodded, giving JD a hesitant smile before backing out of the room. Cox turned back to him, studying his face and taking note of his blush. "You don't have anything to be ashamed of, kid," he said softly.
"I know I don't...I mean, it's not my fault I can't remember them, right? But..." JD let out a sigh, shifting a little on the bed. "Thank you." He wasn't sure how close he and Cox were supposed to be, but he was incredibly grateful for the man's steady presence now. JD didn't feel like he was expecting something, and the subtle ways the older doctor was protecting him had warmth spreading through him.
Didn't hurt that Cox was easy on the eyes, either, JD decided, watching him get water and shake out a pill. Big, obviously in shape, ruggedly handsome face...even the extra curly hair was attractive, making his fingers want to touch it, run through it...
He brought himself up short on that line of thought. Shit...am I gay? He said I slept with his ex-wife, though, and that I didn't have a girlfriend, but... But he couldn't deny Cox was one fine looking man.
Which brought him to another thought that crushed his embarrassment. "Dr. Cox? Is there...is there a mirror in here?"
Cox glanced at him. "In the bathroom," he said, returning to his bedside and handing him the small round pill and a glass of water. "I could track down a smaller one, or--if you want to try walking, I could help you in there. Wondering what you look like?"
JD blushed, and nodded carefully, again soothed by the way Cox just rolled with it, not making a big deal out of something that he thought most people would've. He tilted his head back and popped the pill in his mouth, swallowing it quickly with a glass of water. "Yeah..." he said after he'd downed the rest of the glass. "And is it okay for me to get up? If I've been in bed this long, I mean..."
"Wouldn't have offered if it wasn't okay," Cox replied lightly. "You're hooked to a catheter, so let me unhook that from the bed, but then we'll be good to go."
He moved forward, unhooking the bag from the side of the bed. "We'll get someone to d'c this when you're back in bed, and bring you a bedside urinal instead," Cox said. "A little easier than messing with the tube--not something you want to get caught on something, you know?"
JD snorted, nodding fervently. Cox grinned at him, then hooked the clip on the bag--which JD was grateful to see had recently been emptied--in the elastic of his scrubs. He then held out one arm. "I'm going to let you pull yourself up, if you can," he said. "And I'll let you do as much unaided walking as you want to try, but don't overdo it, okay? You've been in bed for over three weeks; your legs will have atrophied a little."
JD nodded, wondering why he wasn't embarrassed by Dr. Cox's attentions. It seemed like he should've been, but he wasn't. Pushing it out of his mind, he got himself up--with only a bit of help--and started across the floor, leaning on the other man as much as he needed to. Which was less, by the end of it, when his head stopped spinning quite so much.
Soon enough, they were there, Cox pushing the door out of the way, flipping the light on and then just standing unobtrusively beside him. JD raised his eyes to the mirror, slowly letting his bottom lip escape his teeth.
The face looking back at him was pale and worried. It was a good face, though, he decided after a moment. Lips just too full for a guy, nose too long, but he had nice eyes, and unusually expressive eyebrows, which were furrowed just then. He relaxed, smiling a little, then more when he saw the good-natured lines it created. He was slightly tempted to make faces at himself--and knew he would've if Dr. Cox hadn't been standing right there--but this little bit was enough. "Okay. I can live with that," he said, glancing at Cox in the mirror.
The older man was smirking slightly, but he nodded. "No reason not to," he said gruffly. "You ready to head back to bed?"
JD nodded, raising one hand to run it back through his hair, pausing for a second when he'd pulled his bangs up off his forehead, something niggling at the back of his mind. He shrugged it off, trying not to think of how he and Cox looked next to each other. Take away the hospital gown, and he thought it was rather a nice view... God, I'm insane, perving after my doctor. Who knows a hell of a lot more about me than I do about him right now. "Yeah...Think I should get some sleep."
"I think that's a good idea," Cox said mildly. "That percocet will be kicking in soon." He began leading JD back out of the bedroom; JD found he had to rely on Cox's presence to keep him upright a lot more than he had on the way to the bathroom. He flushed, slightly embarrassed, but Cox took it in stride, his arm strong and sure as he gripped JD's. "I'd like you to try to eat a few crackers, too, if you think you can manage," the older man said. "That percocet will make you nauseated if you don't eat something with it."
"Sure, I'll give it a try," JD replied, gratefully easing himself back down into bed. "Don't think I need to add nausea to everything else..." He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. "Anything else I should know, before I sleep? There's too much...too much to think about what to ask."
"Nah," Cox said, shaking his head after a moment's consideration. "Nothing pressing, other than not to worry. This kind of amnesia tends to fade within a few days, or a few weeks at worst." He grinned, giving JD a thumbs up. "I'll send someone in with some saltines. Try to sleep after you eat them. I doubt you'll have much trouble--you've proven you're pretty good at it."
"Sleeping? It doesn't take a lot of skill..." JD yawned, and giggled softly. "Think I'm mostly there already. Dr. Cox...thank you. So much. You're making this a lot easier than I think it could've been..."
For some reason, Cox snorted, looking a little surprised--though JD got the distinct impression it was aimed at himself. "I--yeah, no problem," he said. The grin had slipped from his face, but he replaced it with a more genuine smile. "G'night, Newbie."
JD reminded himself to ask about the nickname later, but for now merely reached out and squeezed the other man's hand lightly, before releasing it again. "Night. I'll...I'll see you tomorrow, right?"
Cox simply stared at him for a moment, expression unreadable; then, clearing his throat, he looked down. "I--yeah, of course. See you."
Then he turned and left the room. JD wondered if he'd somehow offended the man, but found himself too tired to worry about it. The last thought that crossed his mind as he drifted into sleep was he hoped whoever brought him the crackers didn't try to wake him up to eat them.
* * *
Perry stepped out of JD's room and immediately fell back against the wall, bringing his hands up to rub his face. See you tomorrow. It hadn't even crossed his mind to say that he was actually off tomorrow--and he knew it wasn't because he'd forgotten. He'd agreed knowing full well he was off, and at the same time knowing full well he'd be there anyway.
What are you doing, Perry? That's Newbie in there, not some... some piece of ass you can just flirt with and damned be the consequences. You're his boss, whether he remembers it or not, and right now you're being anything but professional!
He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head sharply. Jesus. Yeah, okay, he'd been attracted to JD for a while--months, really--but he'd never planned to do anything about it. First of all, he'd done too damn good a job painting his usual self-portrait as "Evil Dr. Cox" from day one to start changing now. The kid would never believe it even if he tried. Secondly, it... well, JD was his subordinate. He could never be sure, even if he did admit to his feelings and JD reacted favorably, if the kid really felt... well, anything for him, or was just afraid to tell him no.
Or worse, told him yes hoping for special treatment or career advancement.
Besides, what did he want from Newbie, anyway? Up until three weeks ago, he'd figured his attraction was strictly physical. He was human, after all, and Newbie... well, Newbie wasn't hard on the eyes. But when they'd wheeled him into the ER, pale and broken and bleeding, Perry knew that, based on the way his heart had decided to take up permanent residence in his throat, his feelings for JD went beyond the whole mentor-with-the-slight-attraction-to-his-student thing.
What he did feel, he still wasn't sure; he'd carefully ignored this revelation in favor of focusing on JD's recovery. He'd slipped into the worried doctor routine, and no one had questioned it, because JD had been in pretty bad shape, at least at first. It had been pretty touch-and-go for that first week, so there hadn't been a reason to question his near constant presence at the kid's bedside. And even as time passed, and JD started to recover physically, the fact that he'd still been in a coma had been excuse enough.
But now... well, now JD was awake. Sure, he didn't remember squat, but like he'd told the kid himself, that wasn't terribly unusual following such a severe concussion.
Yet Perry was planning to come in on his day off just to hold his hand?
That's not fair, a more rational voice within him said. He's scared, and for some reason he's attached himself to you. It's pretty common for a patient suffering from amnesia to designate a caretaker--a safeguard. When everyone around you knows more about your life than you do, it's hard to know whom to trust.
Well, sure. But by rights, that person should've been Gandhi. Maybe, maybe, Barbie or Carla. Not him.
He drew a deep breath and pushed himself away from the wall, wandering back toward the nurse's station to check on his other patient charts. JD had looked so... so young, in there. So helpless. If Perry hadn't already suspected he'd fallen for the kid, well... the way he'd smiled at him in the mirror would've taken care of that in a heartbeat.
Shit. What was he going to do?
Don't worry, the more cynical voice piped up. Soon enough his memory will return, and he'll go right back to having that love-hate mentor thing for you, and you can call him girl's names and watch him chase Barbie and basically go right back to being your miserable lonely self, trying to drag everyone else down with you by being a grade-A asshole in the meantime.
Yeah. He sighed, grabbing the first patient chart he found and flipping it open without even bothering to check if it was one of his. Yeah, things would settle down, once JD remembered... well, everything. The sooner that happened, the better, so Perry would do all he could to help him remember, even if it meant coming in on his days off.
Pure motives, Perry. Very pure.
He ignored the voice this time, scowling as he grabbed a pen and began to scribble an order. So what if his motives weren't the purest? For once, what he wanted to do and what needed to be done actually coincided; he'd be damned if he'd waste that opportunity. Heaven knew it was rare, and it sure as hell wouldn't last long anyway.
It never did.
* * *
JD's dreams were incredibly strange, full of people he almost knew, and more he didn't asking him why not. He was almost relieved, when he felt a light hand on his arm and a soft voice calling his name. "Hmm?" he managed, blinking slowly.
An attractive blond woman in blue scrubs was leaning over him, smiling hesitantly. "Hey, JD. I've got your crackers..."
JD blinked again, reaching up to rub his eyes. From her attitude, he knew he should know her, but nothing was coming to mind. His mind cast back, but he couldn't place her. "Thanks. Um, I'm sorry, I don't..."
"Oh!" She blushed and grinned. "I'm Elliot. We're...well, we know each other, and we're both residents, and we dated for a while last year--which was an absolute disaster--and now we're just good friends. But don't worry, I know you don't know any of that. Can you try and eat? Dr. Cox was really insistent about it..."
I dated her? I have good taste... JD nodded slowly at the rush of information, wishing it was Cox sitting there instead, and feeling a little guilty for it. "Okay. Elliot. And yeah, I think I can manage, thanks." She helped him sit up, and he took the crackers from her, eating them slowly, trying to think what to say. "Um..."
"I know, this is totally awkward, isn't it?" she replied with a hesitant grin. "I want to ask you how you're doing, and be all supportive and everything, but I don't want overwhelm you, and Dr. Cox threatened to kill me if I did--you don't have to tell him I told you that--so I'm not sure I should say anything at all and..."
"Do you always talk so fast?" JD asked, wondering when she breathed.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, usually."
He grinned to himself and fell silent, just listening to her. It was actually kind of restful, listening to her go on and on, knowing he wasn't required to reply. And he couldn't help the small bubble of appreciation that had grown within in him at hearing Dr. Cox was warning people away from making things too hard on him. He wasn't sure what he'd done, to inspire the older doctor to go above and beyond like this, but he was glad of it.
"Elliot?" he asked finally, when she paused for breath. "How's Turk? He seemed really upset, before, and..." JD sighed. "Dr. Cox said I've known him for almost ten years, so I don't blame him."
Elliot didn't answer right away, picking at a loose thread on the blanket she sat on. "You've been roommates with him since your freshman year of college," she offered after a moment. "And Carla gets jealous, sometimes, of how close the two of you are. So he's...he's pretty upset, but he'll be okay. And JD, it's not your fault, so don't feel guilty, okay? Besides, you should start remembering things really fast, complete retrograde amnesia is totally rare...Even if the movies don't think so."
It was easy for her to say not to feel guilty, but JD couldn't quite help it. Closer to him than his girlfriend, and I asked him who he was...God. "Okay..." He let out his breath slowly. "Everyone keeps telling me it's temporary." He was silent for a moment, and so was she, and the tension grew too thick. He had to break it. "So...am I any good in the sack?"
"What?!" Elliot looked up, shocked, and then started giggling when she saw the look on his face. "You're okay." She winked.
"Just okay?"
"All right, maybe better than okay," Elliot amended, still giggling. "But you should get some more sleep, and I've got patients to see...I'll see you later, okay?"
"Okay," JD replied, finding himself smiling back at her. "Elliot? Thanks."
"Don't mention it. Bye."
She left, and he settled back down, letting his mind drift where it would, slowly falling back to sleep.
* * *
Cox was there, when he woke again. JD couldn't help the smile that slid onto his face, but he was silent for a moment--the older man hadn't realized he'd woken up, so JD took a moment to just study him.
He was sitting next to the bed, one foot propped up on the bed frame, and he was frowning as he read what JD could only guess was his own chart. But there was something different... something not quite right about--
It hit him suddenly, as he woke more fully: Dr. Cox was wearing a black polo shirt and a faded pair of blue jeans. Street clothes.
What...?
Okay, distracting himself from just staring at the older man's forearms--not an easy task, because damn--JD tried to work it out, hating the fuzziness that still seemed to permeate the corners of his mind. If Cox was in street clothes, he probably had the day off. But then why was he here? Maybe this was another dream...
"Dr. Cox?" he asked, voice hesitant.
Cox jumped, nearly dropping the chart, and sat up quickly. His face melted into a grin after a moment, though, and he put his hand over his heart, shaking his head. "Geez," he said. "No coffee necessary for me today, I guess, huh?"
JD giggled. "Guess not. I'll clear my throat or something, next time..." He supposed it made sense, if he'd been asleep for three weeks...Cox must've gotten used to him just lying there, and not moving or saying anything. "Um. Hi?"
"Hi," Cox replied, not seeming to know what else to say either. There was a moment of shy silence, then Cox cleared his throat. "I've, uh... I've been looking over your chart," he said. "All your cognitive functioning based on the psych eval seems to be normal, so it's really just the memory. We'll do a CT scan again just to be sure, but I'd say you'll recover soon enough." He looked over at JD, discomfort slipping away as he fell into "doctor mode"--a transformation so plain JD almost imagined he could see the lab coat and stethoscope. "Do you remember anything more since yesterday?"
JD started to say no, then stopped, his brow furrowing. "I have an older brother. Who used to beat the crap out of me... His name's Dan? And it snowed, where I grew up. A lot." He smiled slightly. "I guess I do, yeah." He settled himself back, ignoring the lingering soreness in his ribs. "It's your day off, isn't it?"
Cox, who had been nodding encouragingly at JD's memories, suddenly looked away, clearly embarrassed. "I--um. Well... technically, I guess. But I've... I mean, it's not that unusual for me to show up on my days off anyway..." he trailed off, then said, "So, you remember Dan, huh? That's good... he was here not too long ago. There's... shall we say, there's not much love lost between him and me, but it's still a good sign you remember him." He was babbling, clearly trying to change the subject. JD couldn't help but grin.
"As far as I can tell, I don't like him very much, either," JD replied, taking momentary pity on Cox's embarrassment, though it amused him as well. "But then that could be because it's mostly younger stuff, now...That's normal, right? Remembering early things first?" He wasn't sure if Cox really did come in on his days off, but he figured part of the reason the older man was here today was because of him. And he could definitely live with that.
Cox nodded vigorously. "Absolutely," he said. "It's unusual to have this kind of complete loss, of course, but it's a very good sign that you're starting to remember things. Of course..." he frowned, glancing through the chart again the looking up at JD. "If you'd really forgotten even your childhood, it may mean some of the more recent things will take a bit longer to return than we estimated."
"Months instead of weeks?" JD asked, ignoring the clenching in his gut. He'd be leaving the hospital in a few days, and he didn't know where he was going, how he was going to live...somehow he doubted you were allowed to be a doctor when you couldn't remember med school.
Cox winced. "It's unlikely, of course, but... well, so is this whole thing, so I'd have to say it's not outside the realm of possibility." He looked at JD, face softening with sympathy. "Hey, don't worry about it too much--just focus on feeling better for now."
JD nodded slowly, putting the possibility out of his mind. He'd remember everything soon, he had to. "Good advice, except I don't really feel that bad. Just this headache and my ribs...I guess I cracked them? What happened, other than my head getting knocked around?"
"It... you were hit by a car," Cox said after a moment. "On your bicycle. It was raining, and dark, and I guess they just didn't see you, or they couldn't stop in time--we don't know, because the bastards didn't stop." His eyes darkened, face drawing in on a furious scowl, and JD had to swallow--he would not, he decided, ever want to be on the receiving end of that look. "Anyway--someone called the hospital, and they brought you in here. We..." he paused again, and looked down. "We weren't very sure you were going to pull through, at first. You broke several ribs, and your head--you'd lost quite a bit of blood, by the time they got you in, and you went into hypovolemic shock. You actually crashed once, but we were able to stop the bleeding and transfuse quickly enough that we got your heart started again." He chuckled humorlessly. "Still not something I'd care to relive," he said softly.
"Kinda hope I don't remember that," JD murmured, fingers twisting in the sheets again. "Shit...No wonder everyone was so relieved when I woke up. Then I had to freak you all out all over again..."
"Not your fault, Newbie," Cox replied, shaking his head.
"Why do you call me that?" JD asked, remembering he'd wanted to. "And what was with the girl's names, when I woke up?"
Cox stared at him, seemingly at a loss. "I..." he broke off, hesitant. "Well, when you first started working here, I called you that because you were. A newbie, I mean. It just kind of... stuck."
"And the girl's names?" JD prompted.
Cox shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "You're... kind of a girly guy, honestly. It's just... a habit, I guess."
"I'm girly?" JD hesitated, but it felt true as he said it, so he didn't argue. Great. "Think I like 'Newbie' better, frankly. But I still say you people have too many nicknames for me." He grinned a little. "So what do people call you?"
"To my face?" Cox said without thinking, rolling his eyes a little. "Dr. Cox, mostly."
To his face? How much of a hardass was Cox, anyway? "Then I'll stick with that," JD replied, shifting again. "Can I get something to eat? I think I'm hungry. Those crackers weren't very filling and that must've been ages ago..."
"Yeah, of course," Cox said. "I'll go have them order something. Anything in particular sound good?"
"No...not really. Just food." JD settled back, images of food flashing through his mind, meals with his family, a Christmas Dan threw mashed potatoes at him, bath afterward, playing with his new doctor's kit, bundling up to go into the snow, watching the weather to hope schools were closed in..."Ohio. I grew up in Trotwood, Ohio," he said, then blushed. "Sorry. Think I'm going to be lord of the non sequitur for a while..."
Cox actually laughed. "Believe me, kid," he said. "We're used to that."
"That's not terribly reassuring," JD replied dryly, but almost grinned, starting to relax. He was remembering things. This would all be all right, in time.
* * *
Next Chapter
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