Cancer: Chapter 3
12 December 2006 18:24![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
randomweavingFic: Cancer
Characters: John Dorian/Perry Cox
Rating: R
Chapter Rating: PG-13 for language and mild m/m cuddling
Description: When Perry starts getting severe headaches, JD fears the worst... Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
2dozenowies challenge community.
Warnings: Very, very depressing. Seriously, folks--this one's heavy. No happy ending. Character death. Angst, drama, the works. Oh, and slash. Read with caution.
Chapter 3/3
The days turned to weeks, and the weeks agonizingly into months. Perry started a home regimen of chemotherapy, visiting the hospital once a week for radiation, but the CT scans and MRIs showed no improvement. The growth rate of the tumor remained unchanged, and ultimately, Perry decided to stop the therapy.
They'd fought over that one.
"You can't just give up," JD had snarled at him, glaring through his tears, when Perry had told him his decision.
"JD... I'm not giving up, I'm being reasonable," Perry had said, wearily. He was always weary now. "It's not helping me, and it's actually making me feel worse than I need to feel, and I just... I don't want my last few months with you to be spent feeling like... like this." He'd spread his arms, demonstrating the way his once-tight t-shirt was now hanging on his deteriorating body. His eyes were slightly sunken in his pale cheeks, dark hollows beneath them making him look... well, like death warmed over. The chemotherapy had kept his hair from getting long again, and he had only grown a ragged, thin layer of fuzz atop his head. The scar from his surgery stretched the skin over his scalp, puckered and white and ugly, a constant reminder of the tumor that lay beneath.
"You... you don't know," JD had fought. "Perry, we've both seen patients turn things around... sometimes the chemo..." he waved a hand, helplessly, but he knew he was fighting a losing battle.
"JD... if I thought I had a fighting chance, you know I'd stay on it," Perry replied, voice gentling as he moved forward to take JD's face in his hands. "But with this kind of tumor, you know as well as I that treatment is palliative at best. And it's making me miserable, and I... I don't want my last few months with you to be miserable. You know?"
There hadn't been any response JD could think of to convince him otherwise, so a few days later, Perry had stopped his treatment. Zeltzer had approved the decision, saying he thought they were making the right choice; JD had refused to look at him, keeping his arms wound tightly across his chest as Zeltzer and Perry had shaken hands, the oncologist wishing him all the best.
And in truth, stopping the chemo did improve things. Perry was no longer as pale, and the sunken, hollow look to his face vanished, cheeks filling out a little as he was finally able to eat and not throw everything back up immediately. His hair grew as though to make up for the time it'd missed, and within a few weeks, it was already as long as it had been the first time JD had met him. It was long enough to hide the scar, too--a fact for which JD knew Perry was extremely grateful.
As his strength returned, however, JD only grew more frantic, desperately searching for anything that might help Perry. When the book had arrived, and Turk had called him, JD had read it in one night; he'd immediately placed a call to the author the next morning, and was still waiting to hear about a new clinical trial.
"I should warn you, though," Dr. Williams had said. "When they resected my tumor they were able to get most of it--with a mass that differentiated, I'm not entirely sure how much help this particular treatment will be."
"Well, I don't have a lot of alternatives, do I?" JD had replied, and Williams had laughed ruefully.
"I guess you don't. I'll get back to you when I hear back about this trial. Good luck, John."
"Thanks," JD murmured, hanging up the phone just as Perry had returned from taking Jack to the park. He'd forced a smile onto his face and joined his lover and their son in the den, playing a game of dominoes that consisted more of Jack throwing the pieces and laughing as JD retrieved them, but his mind had been far away.
He knew he was distracted--had been ever since that afternoon they'd almost watched The Producers, when Perry had told him he would have to move on someday. That, more than anything, had spurred JD to desperate action, and his days (and most of his nights) were now spent chasing down lead after lead, growing more and more frantic as time passed and January, the ten-month mark of Perry's diagnosis, drew nearer.
One afternoon in early September, JD sat at the kitchen table, making a note about the chemical reactions of a new chemotherapy drug on malignant cells. Perry hadn't qualified for that clinical trial Dr. Williams had told him about, to JD's dismay, but there were other trials, other formulas to pursue. He'd long since given up trying to hide from Perry just exactly what he was doing, and Perry, for his part, had seemed touched.
For a time, he'd simply stepped aside, probably assuming this was just something JD needed to get out of his system before he would be able to accept Perry's death with any kind of peace. However, in the past few weeks, it had gotten to be something of a point of contention between them, Perry insisting that it was going from a natural coping mechanism to an unhealthy obsession.
"There's dedicated, and there's insane, JD," he'd said a few days ago, watching with worry written clearly on his face as he watched JD attacking a new case study with a highlighter, a half-empty cup of coffee forgotten at his elbow.
JD had ignored him, and Perry had stood with a sigh, wandering into the living room to read. Tuesdays with Morrie had become a favorite of his, strange though JD found it, but he'd refused to read it when Perry had suggested it to him, despite his lover's insistence that it would help.
"It'll help me accept your death," JD had snapped. "I don't want to try to accept that yet. It's too soon."
It had become something of a mantra of his: It's too soon.
It would always be too soon.
Now, sitting at the table, he scowled as he scratched out his formula, gnawing on the end of his pen. The cap was already badly misshapen, evidence of other long nights spent at this very table written in every tooth mark. He was missing something here, he knew it--there was something he just hadn't seen yet. If he could only concentrate...
Of course, Perry chose that moment to walk into the kitchen, a smile on his face as he pulled off his knit cap. Even though his hair had grown back, he still got cold easily now, and though California in September was warm by anyone's standards, Perry still wore a jacket and hat any time he went outside. "Hey," he said, moving forward. "You should come outside--it's really nice today. I thought we could walk to the park or something equally cliché and romantic. Whaddya say?"
JD tossed his pen down, concentration shattered. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose tightly, trying to ease the headache behind his eyes, which felt both gritty and sore. He tried to remember the last time he'd gotten a decent night's sleep, and couldn't. Probably before March...when all this had started. "I'm in the middle of something..."
"A break couldn't hurt. You look like hell, Newbie. Come on, let's get some air, get you away from that thing for a while..."
Perry glared at JD's laptop, and suddenly JD couldn't stand it anymore. The worry, the work, Perry's acceptance of this thing that was going to destroy him...It was too much. He shoved his laptop away from him, standing up to the sound of it--and the stack of books behind it--clattering to the floor. He was halfway across the room when they landed, pacing like a caged animal. "Yeah, well I'm in hell, Perry, so it's no wonder, all right?"
Perry was startled. "I... JD, look, I just thought..."
"What? What did you think? I'm running out of time, and you want me to go to the park?"
Perry's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I did," he said, voice low. "To be honest, I didn't really think it was that much to ask."
JD winced, but pushed the guilt away yet again as he rubbed his temples, head pounding dully in time with his heartbeat. "I'd like to, really, but I want to go over this again...there has to be something I'm missing." Besides sleep, of course.
Perry sighed, expression a mask of pity. "JD... look," he said, moving forward to take the younger man's hands in his. "I appreciate you doing this, I really do--but you do realize you've basically charged yourself with curing cancer in under a year?" He shook his head. "Come on--enough is enough. You tried, JD, and no one can fault you that, but... it's over. Let it go."
"I can't..." JD's breath caught around the words, nearly a sob before he pulled himself back together, pushing the emotions down. It was harder than it had been before, he felt so raw, now, so on edge, every moment... "I can't give up, can't let you..." He pulled away, running a hand back through his hair. "If I just..." But he couldn't finish the sentence. Wasn't sure why he was still protesting, when deep down he knew Perry was right. There was nothing, nothing he could do, but stand by and watch his lover die.
And that was killing him.
"You don't really have a choice," Perry murmured, eyes dark with sympathy. "JD, look... I'm not exactly thrilled about this either, believe me, but if...if we only have a few months left... it seems we should try to enjoy them, you know? And stop torturing ourselves with false hopes."
JD turned away, cursing when he tripped over a fallen book, and kicked it away, ignoring the hot prickling of his eyes. "There has to be something..." He tried to sound confident, but it came out pleading.
And suddenly he heard Perry's voice in his head, a half-forgotten memory from his first year. You're afraid of death, and you can't be. You gotta accept that everything we do here, everything, is a stall. He'd known that, once, believed it. Had counseled patients and the families of patients time after time against false hope, had told them to accept things as best they could, prepare themselves, not waste their last moments together...
"Why don't I ever listen to me?" JD murmured, his eyes filling so quickly he couldn't blink the tears away fast enough. He dropped heavily into a chair, like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut. He'd failed, and Perry was going to die. "I'm sorry. I tried, and I couldn't...and I'm so, so sorry..."
"No, JD," Perry said, tears stinging at his own eyes; he moved forward again and knelt in front of the younger man, hands resting on his knees. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let this go on for so long, that I left you thinking this was somehow up to you. I thought--hell, I don't know, I thought it was just something you needed to get out of your system, thought it might help you deal with things after...but I should have put a stop to it a lot sooner. JD"--he slid his hands into JD's, which were trembling on his lap as the younger man fought his tears--"I know you wanted to cure this, to save me. But you can't. No one can cure cancer. Not yet, anyway. And definitely not with a laptop and a pile of medical books."
"Should've looked for more funding," JD tried to joke, but his voice cracked. He took a few seconds, trying to control himself, but it just seemed to slip more. "I had to try...I had to. When..." and it made another piece of his heart crumble to say when, and not if, but there was no denying it now, "when you go, I'll need to know I did everything I could...Wish it'd been enough."
Perry released JD's hands, raising his instead to the younger man's face. He cradled his cheeks softly, brushing at his tears with the pads of his thumbs, then leaned forward, capturing JD's lips in a slow, gentle kiss.
"It was more than enough," he whispered.
JD started crying in earnest, when Perry's lips touched his, harsh, ugly sobs ripping their way out of his chest. He hid his face in Perry's shoulder, slipping off the chair to let the other man hold him.
And hold him Perry did. He slid his arms around JD's waist, pulling him in tightly and rocking him a little. His own tears slipped free, but for once he didn't care; he simply held JD, letting him sob out his pain and fear and grief. "Shh, JD, shh," he whispered into the younger man's ear. "I'm here... I'm still here. We still..." he bit his lip as his voice cracked, but continued: "We still have time."
Not enough JD wanted to reply, still shaking as the tears wouldn't stop. But then...it'd never be enough, not for him. Not if they'd both lived to be 100 and died within minutes of each other. So if he couldn't have enough, he'd have to cling to what he did have, instead. He made himself nod, felt the tears start to slow. "I think..." He sniffled, coughing a little, and raised a hand to wipe at his eyes. "I think I need a nap. Can we go to the park after that?"
"Yeah," Perry whispered. "Of course. Come on." He stood, drawing JD to his feet, though for a long moment he just held him. "It'll be okay, JD," he whispered. "You'll see."
JD snuggled as close as he could, storing up every touch, every moment, so he could pull them out and remember them, when memories would be all he had.
"Now come on," Perry whispered finally, pulling away. "Let's go to bed."
And they did, though they didn't sleep until much later.
* * *
The next four months, the last four months of Perry's life, were at best bittersweet for JD.
Things had gotten better for a time, when he'd finally accepted that Perry's fate really was out of his hands. He'd taken an extended leave of absence from work, determined to make them count. Kelso hadn't even argued.
He and Perry did their best to make every day special. They took trips to the beach with Jack and went hiking in the mountains, when Perry was still strong enough, and when he wasn't, they spent their days curled up on the couch in the den, watching movies or talking or sometimes simply holding each other, their bodies expressing in the silence the things they could not put in words.
Perry lived to see Christmas.
Jordan brought Jack over early in the morning, and the four of them had sat around the tree, Perry wrapped in blankets and leaning against JD's chest, as Jack had torn through his gifts, clapping delightedly at the new toys they'd purchased for him. The child was, for the most part, unaware of his father's disease; they'd told him that Perry would be going away soon, and Jack had seemed confused by this, but he quickly forgot it in the bustle of the holiday season. JD was thankful for that, if nothing else.
The last few days of his life, Perry was confined to their bed, his muscles no longer strong enough to lift him. JD looked after him tenderly, helping him eat and drink, and bringing him the bedpan when he needed it. JD knew he hated being reduced to being waited upon, but Perry never complained; he had, it seemed, accepted his impending death.
On the ninth of January, Perry slipped into a coma from which he would never wake. He died on the morning of January 12th, as JD lay in bed beside him and held him, stroking his fingers through his hair. He lay his head on Perry's chest, listening as his heart faltered, then slowed to a stop; he felt Perry's chest sink as his lungs released their last breath, never again to draw another.
Then he was still. JD closed his eyes, beyond tears, beyond anything but the grief that was trying so hard to crush him.
He almost wished it would.
Perry's funeral was held that Saturday, on January 14th. It was an unusually cold day, for California, the temperature dipping nearly down to 35 degrees. They all stood huddled around the casket as the priest gave the service, long coats hiding their black suits and dresses but doing nothing to hide their tears. Carla and Turk stood wrapped around each other, Turk's face drawn with pity as Carla wept into his shoulder. Elliot stood clutching Sean's hand, stunned tears streaming down her cheeks. On her other side, Jordan stood holding Jack, whose crying had more to do with the fact that everyone around him was crying than his actual comprehension of the situation.
Everyone, that is, except JD. He stood, still as a stone, as the priest finished the service and Perry's casket was lowered into the cold ground. He stepped forward when the old man nodded at him, casting a single rose down onto the coffin and following it with a handful of dirt.
"Goodbye, Perry," he murmured, before turning away and wandering aimlessly through the cemetery.
Carla came after him. "Bambi," she said softly, reaching out and catching him by the wrist. "Are you okay?"
He looked at her. No. "I... yeah, Carla, I'm fine," he murmured, looking down at the ground and kicking at a stray leaf. "I mean, we knew it was going to happen, right?"
Carla bit her lip. "It doesn't make it any easier, though, does it?" she murmured.
JD almost laughed. "Not exactly," he said tersely, turning away. "Look, Carla, I... I'd really just like to be alone right now."
He heard her sigh, knowing she wanted to protest, but it was a mark of her restraint that she just murmured, "Okay, Bambi," before turning to walk away. She did pause, however, turning back and saying, "Listen, I... Turk and I wanted to offer... a place for you to stay, for a few days. If you want."
"No. Thank you, but no."
"Bambi..."
"Carla, please. Leave me alone."
She did, then. As did the others. They left him alone for the rest of the day, and then the rest of the weekend. The weekend turned to a week, then two, then a month, and JD refused to see them.
He'd taken to lying, curled defensively on his side, in his and Perry's once-shared bed, for hours on end, getting up only long enough to pee and eat enough food to prevent starvation. He turned off his cell phone, and ignored the apartment line when it rang (though he had to turn off the answering machine--Perry's voice instructing the callers to leave a message just hurt too much to hear), and when they finally began appearing at his door, he'd only crack it open enough to prove he was still alive, before sending them away.
He was wasting away slowly, the padding of weight he'd managed to keep on during the months of Perry's illness slipping away, leaving him skin and bones and frozen, most of the time. The only thing that kept him alive was Jack; Jordan brought him by at least once a week, though she didn't dare leave him alone with JD.
He was too weary to even protest that he was still able to take care of his son. He just focused what energy he had on the child, smiling for him when he could, and dying a little inside every time Jack would look at him and ask for Perry.
"Not today, bug," he whispered, and Jack would frown, but return his attention to his blocks or his legos or whatever it was he was playing with.
It was two months to the day since Perry had died when Turk barged into the apartment, apparently having acquired the key from Jordan. He walked into JD's room and pulled the shades, and JD curled away from the sunlight that swept into the room, blinding him. "Turk... what the...?"
"Come on," Turk said shortly. "We're going for a walk."
"What?" JD squinted at him, blinking. "I don't... I'd rather not, I'd..."
"Yeah, yeah, you'd like to be alone, you need time, blah blah. Just get your shoes on and come with me, would you?"
Turk was clearly not taking no for an answer so JD obeyed, numbly pulling on his socks and tennis shoes, shrugging on a light jacket and walking out of the apartment for the first time in over two weeks (Elliot and Carla had been doing his grocery shopping for him, though he still wasn't eating much).
"Where are we going?" he finally murmured, interested despite himself.
Turk glanced back at him, but shook his head and picked up the pace a little. "You don't know?"
JD bit his lip, jogging a little to keep up. "Turk, I... I don't think..."
"You haven't gone to see him since the funeral, JD," Turk said. "I don't know about you, but to me that just doesn't seem right."
"I need more time," JD whispered, feeling his throat tightening up as they rounded a corner and came within sight of the cemetery. "I...Turk, I can't do this..." he stopped, backing up a few steps, a strange panic taking him over.
Turk was ready for him, though. He lunged forward and caught JD's wrist. "Look, JD," he murmured. "I know you're hurting, but this... this isn't right, man. You never even gave him a proper goodbye, you know?"
JD glowered at him, yanking his wrist away. "I spent the last fucking year saying goodbye to him," he snapped. "Jesus, Turk, what the fuck do you think I was doing the whole time I was holding his hand and watching him slowly slip away?"
"You were doing just that!" Turk retorted. "You were holding on. He's been gone for two months and it's what you're still doing! JD, he wouldn't want this. You know that! Now stop avoiding this and let him go!"
JD's anger fled as quickly as it came; his eyes filled, and he shook his head, desperately. "Turk, I can't," he moaned. "I can't, I...!"
Turk pulled him into a hug, letting JD sob into his shoulder. "You can, buddy," he said softly. "You can, and you should. And you will. Come on."
He drew JD forward; JD, too weak to protest, let himself be led through the cast-iron gates of the cemetery and between the rows of headstones. Before he was really even aware of being there, he found himself in front of the black marble stone he'd picked out a few months prior, when it had become clear that Perry was really on his way out.
"Talk to him," Turk said softly, rubbing JD's back gently. "He'll hear you; I promise, man. I told Carla I'd go take care of her mom's grave, but then I'll be waiting for you at the gate. Take as long as you need."
Then he was gone, disappearing into the rows of headstones, leaving JD alone.
He stood for a very long time, simply staring at the marker.
Perry Cox
1963-2007
Devoted doctor, loving father, faithful friend
As he stood, staring at the inscription that had been Carla's doing (JD had simply not cared enough, at the time, to be worried about what to write on the marker), he suddenly found himself almost laughing.
"Loving father," he murmured. "Faithful friend? Jesus, Perry... what would you have said, if you'd known your epitaph would be such sentimental schlock?"
He sank to his knees, reaching out to trace the letters carved into the marble. "You would've kicked my ass for being too out of it to pick something better, wouldn't you?" He sat back on his heels, looking at his hands as they came to rest in his lap. And God, he'd really been losing it, if even his fingers were that thin...
"I guess I owe you an apology, huh?" he asked softly, pulling his coat tighter around him. "I told you I'd try to be okay, and...I haven't made much of an effort. We found out a year ago, and I still can't believe it's real. That you're...you're gone. You'd think the funeral thing would've clued me in, but I guess not."
JD paused, almost expecting some kind of answer, but there was nothing. Just a chill breeze through the headstones. He sighed. "This is weird. Talking to you like this. Turk says you can hear me. I wish I had his faith--I never missed it, not until now, but I'd give about anything, if it meant I could be sure you were still out there somewhere, listening to me..." he closed his eyes, drawing a shaky breath. "At least, when...when it was almost over, I could still hold you, even if you weren't awake to hear me anymore. You know, I... I keep dreaming that you've come home, that it was all some horrible nightmare, and you're teasing me for sleeping in...God, Perry, it was bad enough when my dad died, and you were there to help me through it, but this... who'll help me through this? Everyone's trying, I think, but I just..."
He paused, to wipe away the tears that turned cold against his cheeks as they fell. "I guess Turk's right, I don't want to let go. Don't want to admit it's really real, and you're...dead. But you are. You are, and if there's anything after this, you're probably running out of patience with me, huh? I guess I didn't give up hoping, when I stopped searching. I thought...I don't know. But nearly six years as a doctor hasn't seemed to help remind me people die when you don't want them to.
"I don't want to let go of you. I really don't. But I think...I think I have to, for both our sakes. And for Jack's...he needs one of his fathers, right? And if I don't change things..." JD shook his head, biting his lip. "Well, if I don't change things I'll be seeing you again a lot sooner than I should, and I can't think you'd be happy about that. Guess I'd better make sure I've still got a job, too...And go see my friends. And I... I have to start living again. I wish...But no. No, no point to, not really.
"Jack's birthday is in a week. He's having a big party, and it's all he's been talking about. He wants you to come. I guess we should've explained 'going away' better, huh? Fuck, I should've paid more attention...Should be paying attention, now. You didn't want me to die with you, did you? No one did. No one but me, and I don't want to die, not really, I... I just want you to still be alive..." More tears fell, and he didn't even try to brush them away now. "I miss you, Perry. I miss you so much..." he paused, shaking his head slowly. "But that's not going to go away, and it won't get easier if all I do is think about it, huh? I guess... I guess I'll have to just learn to live with it, and stop hiding from everyone in the meantime."
JD wasn't sure how long he sat there, still talking, just that the ground had leeched the warmth from his body, and his cheeks felt raw from the chill wind against his tears. But by the time Turk returned, he felt the beginnings of peace within him.
"Hey, buddy," Turk said softly. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but you were gone for almost an hour, and I thought I'd make sure you hadn't fallen asleep on me."
JD looked up at him and managed a weak smile. "I... no," he said, wiping at his cheeks and letting Turk help him to his feet. "No, actually, I think I've finally started to wake up. I... I still have to live, I guess. That's what he was trying to tell me, those last few months, and I didn't really hear him until now." He closed his eyes, a few tears slipping free, but his smile got a little stronger. "Hey, Turk, I just wanted to... to say... well, thanks for making me come out here."
Turk slapped his shoulder lightly. "No problem, buddy," he said softly. "You know I still got your back."
JD nodded again. "I do know, and I appreciate it," he said. "I just--could you give me a few more minutes? I'll meet you at the gate..."
Turk nodded, walking away; JD waited until he was out of earshot, then turned back to the marker. "I love you, Perry," he said, still smiling even as the tears streamed down his froze cheeks. "I never thought I would, and sometimes even now I can't quite believe it happened, but... it did. I love you, and I'm so glad we had... the time that we did. I'll never, ever forget it, not any of it. Not even the very end. And I want you to know... if you can hear me, somehow, somewhere, that I... I will be okay. Just like you wanted. I promised I'd try, and I guess... I guess it's time I started keeping that promise."
He closed his eyes, releasing his breath on a long sigh and feeling an odd lightening in his heart. Oh, the pain was still there--JD knew it probably would be, to some extent, for the rest of his life, but... something else had come to join it. Something warm, some strange combination of peace and hope.
His smile grew a little. "Goodbye, Perry," he murmured, and he closed his eyes briefly when the breeze picked up a little, rustling through the bare limbs of the trees that were just beginning to show signs of early spring buds.
Then he lowered his head and turned away, heading back toward Turk, who stood waiting for him at the gate.
* * *
Characters: John Dorian/Perry Cox
Rating: R
Chapter Rating: PG-13 for language and mild m/m cuddling
Description: When Perry starts getting severe headaches, JD fears the worst... Written for the
2dozenowies challenge community.Warnings: Very, very depressing. Seriously, folks--this one's heavy. No happy ending. Character death. Angst, drama, the works. Oh, and slash. Read with caution.
Chapter 3/3
The days turned to weeks, and the weeks agonizingly into months. Perry started a home regimen of chemotherapy, visiting the hospital once a week for radiation, but the CT scans and MRIs showed no improvement. The growth rate of the tumor remained unchanged, and ultimately, Perry decided to stop the therapy.
They'd fought over that one.
"You can't just give up," JD had snarled at him, glaring through his tears, when Perry had told him his decision.
"JD... I'm not giving up, I'm being reasonable," Perry had said, wearily. He was always weary now. "It's not helping me, and it's actually making me feel worse than I need to feel, and I just... I don't want my last few months with you to be spent feeling like... like this." He'd spread his arms, demonstrating the way his once-tight t-shirt was now hanging on his deteriorating body. His eyes were slightly sunken in his pale cheeks, dark hollows beneath them making him look... well, like death warmed over. The chemotherapy had kept his hair from getting long again, and he had only grown a ragged, thin layer of fuzz atop his head. The scar from his surgery stretched the skin over his scalp, puckered and white and ugly, a constant reminder of the tumor that lay beneath.
"You... you don't know," JD had fought. "Perry, we've both seen patients turn things around... sometimes the chemo..." he waved a hand, helplessly, but he knew he was fighting a losing battle.
"JD... if I thought I had a fighting chance, you know I'd stay on it," Perry replied, voice gentling as he moved forward to take JD's face in his hands. "But with this kind of tumor, you know as well as I that treatment is palliative at best. And it's making me miserable, and I... I don't want my last few months with you to be miserable. You know?"
There hadn't been any response JD could think of to convince him otherwise, so a few days later, Perry had stopped his treatment. Zeltzer had approved the decision, saying he thought they were making the right choice; JD had refused to look at him, keeping his arms wound tightly across his chest as Zeltzer and Perry had shaken hands, the oncologist wishing him all the best.
And in truth, stopping the chemo did improve things. Perry was no longer as pale, and the sunken, hollow look to his face vanished, cheeks filling out a little as he was finally able to eat and not throw everything back up immediately. His hair grew as though to make up for the time it'd missed, and within a few weeks, it was already as long as it had been the first time JD had met him. It was long enough to hide the scar, too--a fact for which JD knew Perry was extremely grateful.
As his strength returned, however, JD only grew more frantic, desperately searching for anything that might help Perry. When the book had arrived, and Turk had called him, JD had read it in one night; he'd immediately placed a call to the author the next morning, and was still waiting to hear about a new clinical trial.
"I should warn you, though," Dr. Williams had said. "When they resected my tumor they were able to get most of it--with a mass that differentiated, I'm not entirely sure how much help this particular treatment will be."
"Well, I don't have a lot of alternatives, do I?" JD had replied, and Williams had laughed ruefully.
"I guess you don't. I'll get back to you when I hear back about this trial. Good luck, John."
"Thanks," JD murmured, hanging up the phone just as Perry had returned from taking Jack to the park. He'd forced a smile onto his face and joined his lover and their son in the den, playing a game of dominoes that consisted more of Jack throwing the pieces and laughing as JD retrieved them, but his mind had been far away.
He knew he was distracted--had been ever since that afternoon they'd almost watched The Producers, when Perry had told him he would have to move on someday. That, more than anything, had spurred JD to desperate action, and his days (and most of his nights) were now spent chasing down lead after lead, growing more and more frantic as time passed and January, the ten-month mark of Perry's diagnosis, drew nearer.
One afternoon in early September, JD sat at the kitchen table, making a note about the chemical reactions of a new chemotherapy drug on malignant cells. Perry hadn't qualified for that clinical trial Dr. Williams had told him about, to JD's dismay, but there were other trials, other formulas to pursue. He'd long since given up trying to hide from Perry just exactly what he was doing, and Perry, for his part, had seemed touched.
For a time, he'd simply stepped aside, probably assuming this was just something JD needed to get out of his system before he would be able to accept Perry's death with any kind of peace. However, in the past few weeks, it had gotten to be something of a point of contention between them, Perry insisting that it was going from a natural coping mechanism to an unhealthy obsession.
"There's dedicated, and there's insane, JD," he'd said a few days ago, watching with worry written clearly on his face as he watched JD attacking a new case study with a highlighter, a half-empty cup of coffee forgotten at his elbow.
JD had ignored him, and Perry had stood with a sigh, wandering into the living room to read. Tuesdays with Morrie had become a favorite of his, strange though JD found it, but he'd refused to read it when Perry had suggested it to him, despite his lover's insistence that it would help.
"It'll help me accept your death," JD had snapped. "I don't want to try to accept that yet. It's too soon."
It had become something of a mantra of his: It's too soon.
It would always be too soon.
Now, sitting at the table, he scowled as he scratched out his formula, gnawing on the end of his pen. The cap was already badly misshapen, evidence of other long nights spent at this very table written in every tooth mark. He was missing something here, he knew it--there was something he just hadn't seen yet. If he could only concentrate...
Of course, Perry chose that moment to walk into the kitchen, a smile on his face as he pulled off his knit cap. Even though his hair had grown back, he still got cold easily now, and though California in September was warm by anyone's standards, Perry still wore a jacket and hat any time he went outside. "Hey," he said, moving forward. "You should come outside--it's really nice today. I thought we could walk to the park or something equally cliché and romantic. Whaddya say?"
JD tossed his pen down, concentration shattered. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose tightly, trying to ease the headache behind his eyes, which felt both gritty and sore. He tried to remember the last time he'd gotten a decent night's sleep, and couldn't. Probably before March...when all this had started. "I'm in the middle of something..."
"A break couldn't hurt. You look like hell, Newbie. Come on, let's get some air, get you away from that thing for a while..."
Perry glared at JD's laptop, and suddenly JD couldn't stand it anymore. The worry, the work, Perry's acceptance of this thing that was going to destroy him...It was too much. He shoved his laptop away from him, standing up to the sound of it--and the stack of books behind it--clattering to the floor. He was halfway across the room when they landed, pacing like a caged animal. "Yeah, well I'm in hell, Perry, so it's no wonder, all right?"
Perry was startled. "I... JD, look, I just thought..."
"What? What did you think? I'm running out of time, and you want me to go to the park?"
Perry's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I did," he said, voice low. "To be honest, I didn't really think it was that much to ask."
JD winced, but pushed the guilt away yet again as he rubbed his temples, head pounding dully in time with his heartbeat. "I'd like to, really, but I want to go over this again...there has to be something I'm missing." Besides sleep, of course.
Perry sighed, expression a mask of pity. "JD... look," he said, moving forward to take the younger man's hands in his. "I appreciate you doing this, I really do--but you do realize you've basically charged yourself with curing cancer in under a year?" He shook his head. "Come on--enough is enough. You tried, JD, and no one can fault you that, but... it's over. Let it go."
"I can't..." JD's breath caught around the words, nearly a sob before he pulled himself back together, pushing the emotions down. It was harder than it had been before, he felt so raw, now, so on edge, every moment... "I can't give up, can't let you..." He pulled away, running a hand back through his hair. "If I just..." But he couldn't finish the sentence. Wasn't sure why he was still protesting, when deep down he knew Perry was right. There was nothing, nothing he could do, but stand by and watch his lover die.
And that was killing him.
"You don't really have a choice," Perry murmured, eyes dark with sympathy. "JD, look... I'm not exactly thrilled about this either, believe me, but if...if we only have a few months left... it seems we should try to enjoy them, you know? And stop torturing ourselves with false hopes."
JD turned away, cursing when he tripped over a fallen book, and kicked it away, ignoring the hot prickling of his eyes. "There has to be something..." He tried to sound confident, but it came out pleading.
And suddenly he heard Perry's voice in his head, a half-forgotten memory from his first year. You're afraid of death, and you can't be. You gotta accept that everything we do here, everything, is a stall. He'd known that, once, believed it. Had counseled patients and the families of patients time after time against false hope, had told them to accept things as best they could, prepare themselves, not waste their last moments together...
"Why don't I ever listen to me?" JD murmured, his eyes filling so quickly he couldn't blink the tears away fast enough. He dropped heavily into a chair, like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut. He'd failed, and Perry was going to die. "I'm sorry. I tried, and I couldn't...and I'm so, so sorry..."
"No, JD," Perry said, tears stinging at his own eyes; he moved forward again and knelt in front of the younger man, hands resting on his knees. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let this go on for so long, that I left you thinking this was somehow up to you. I thought--hell, I don't know, I thought it was just something you needed to get out of your system, thought it might help you deal with things after...but I should have put a stop to it a lot sooner. JD"--he slid his hands into JD's, which were trembling on his lap as the younger man fought his tears--"I know you wanted to cure this, to save me. But you can't. No one can cure cancer. Not yet, anyway. And definitely not with a laptop and a pile of medical books."
"Should've looked for more funding," JD tried to joke, but his voice cracked. He took a few seconds, trying to control himself, but it just seemed to slip more. "I had to try...I had to. When..." and it made another piece of his heart crumble to say when, and not if, but there was no denying it now, "when you go, I'll need to know I did everything I could...Wish it'd been enough."
Perry released JD's hands, raising his instead to the younger man's face. He cradled his cheeks softly, brushing at his tears with the pads of his thumbs, then leaned forward, capturing JD's lips in a slow, gentle kiss.
"It was more than enough," he whispered.
JD started crying in earnest, when Perry's lips touched his, harsh, ugly sobs ripping their way out of his chest. He hid his face in Perry's shoulder, slipping off the chair to let the other man hold him.
And hold him Perry did. He slid his arms around JD's waist, pulling him in tightly and rocking him a little. His own tears slipped free, but for once he didn't care; he simply held JD, letting him sob out his pain and fear and grief. "Shh, JD, shh," he whispered into the younger man's ear. "I'm here... I'm still here. We still..." he bit his lip as his voice cracked, but continued: "We still have time."
Not enough JD wanted to reply, still shaking as the tears wouldn't stop. But then...it'd never be enough, not for him. Not if they'd both lived to be 100 and died within minutes of each other. So if he couldn't have enough, he'd have to cling to what he did have, instead. He made himself nod, felt the tears start to slow. "I think..." He sniffled, coughing a little, and raised a hand to wipe at his eyes. "I think I need a nap. Can we go to the park after that?"
"Yeah," Perry whispered. "Of course. Come on." He stood, drawing JD to his feet, though for a long moment he just held him. "It'll be okay, JD," he whispered. "You'll see."
JD snuggled as close as he could, storing up every touch, every moment, so he could pull them out and remember them, when memories would be all he had.
"Now come on," Perry whispered finally, pulling away. "Let's go to bed."
And they did, though they didn't sleep until much later.
* * *
The next four months, the last four months of Perry's life, were at best bittersweet for JD.
Things had gotten better for a time, when he'd finally accepted that Perry's fate really was out of his hands. He'd taken an extended leave of absence from work, determined to make them count. Kelso hadn't even argued.
He and Perry did their best to make every day special. They took trips to the beach with Jack and went hiking in the mountains, when Perry was still strong enough, and when he wasn't, they spent their days curled up on the couch in the den, watching movies or talking or sometimes simply holding each other, their bodies expressing in the silence the things they could not put in words.
Perry lived to see Christmas.
Jordan brought Jack over early in the morning, and the four of them had sat around the tree, Perry wrapped in blankets and leaning against JD's chest, as Jack had torn through his gifts, clapping delightedly at the new toys they'd purchased for him. The child was, for the most part, unaware of his father's disease; they'd told him that Perry would be going away soon, and Jack had seemed confused by this, but he quickly forgot it in the bustle of the holiday season. JD was thankful for that, if nothing else.
The last few days of his life, Perry was confined to their bed, his muscles no longer strong enough to lift him. JD looked after him tenderly, helping him eat and drink, and bringing him the bedpan when he needed it. JD knew he hated being reduced to being waited upon, but Perry never complained; he had, it seemed, accepted his impending death.
On the ninth of January, Perry slipped into a coma from which he would never wake. He died on the morning of January 12th, as JD lay in bed beside him and held him, stroking his fingers through his hair. He lay his head on Perry's chest, listening as his heart faltered, then slowed to a stop; he felt Perry's chest sink as his lungs released their last breath, never again to draw another.
Then he was still. JD closed his eyes, beyond tears, beyond anything but the grief that was trying so hard to crush him.
He almost wished it would.
Perry's funeral was held that Saturday, on January 14th. It was an unusually cold day, for California, the temperature dipping nearly down to 35 degrees. They all stood huddled around the casket as the priest gave the service, long coats hiding their black suits and dresses but doing nothing to hide their tears. Carla and Turk stood wrapped around each other, Turk's face drawn with pity as Carla wept into his shoulder. Elliot stood clutching Sean's hand, stunned tears streaming down her cheeks. On her other side, Jordan stood holding Jack, whose crying had more to do with the fact that everyone around him was crying than his actual comprehension of the situation.
Everyone, that is, except JD. He stood, still as a stone, as the priest finished the service and Perry's casket was lowered into the cold ground. He stepped forward when the old man nodded at him, casting a single rose down onto the coffin and following it with a handful of dirt.
"Goodbye, Perry," he murmured, before turning away and wandering aimlessly through the cemetery.
Carla came after him. "Bambi," she said softly, reaching out and catching him by the wrist. "Are you okay?"
He looked at her. No. "I... yeah, Carla, I'm fine," he murmured, looking down at the ground and kicking at a stray leaf. "I mean, we knew it was going to happen, right?"
Carla bit her lip. "It doesn't make it any easier, though, does it?" she murmured.
JD almost laughed. "Not exactly," he said tersely, turning away. "Look, Carla, I... I'd really just like to be alone right now."
He heard her sigh, knowing she wanted to protest, but it was a mark of her restraint that she just murmured, "Okay, Bambi," before turning to walk away. She did pause, however, turning back and saying, "Listen, I... Turk and I wanted to offer... a place for you to stay, for a few days. If you want."
"No. Thank you, but no."
"Bambi..."
"Carla, please. Leave me alone."
She did, then. As did the others. They left him alone for the rest of the day, and then the rest of the weekend. The weekend turned to a week, then two, then a month, and JD refused to see them.
He'd taken to lying, curled defensively on his side, in his and Perry's once-shared bed, for hours on end, getting up only long enough to pee and eat enough food to prevent starvation. He turned off his cell phone, and ignored the apartment line when it rang (though he had to turn off the answering machine--Perry's voice instructing the callers to leave a message just hurt too much to hear), and when they finally began appearing at his door, he'd only crack it open enough to prove he was still alive, before sending them away.
He was wasting away slowly, the padding of weight he'd managed to keep on during the months of Perry's illness slipping away, leaving him skin and bones and frozen, most of the time. The only thing that kept him alive was Jack; Jordan brought him by at least once a week, though she didn't dare leave him alone with JD.
He was too weary to even protest that he was still able to take care of his son. He just focused what energy he had on the child, smiling for him when he could, and dying a little inside every time Jack would look at him and ask for Perry.
"Not today, bug," he whispered, and Jack would frown, but return his attention to his blocks or his legos or whatever it was he was playing with.
It was two months to the day since Perry had died when Turk barged into the apartment, apparently having acquired the key from Jordan. He walked into JD's room and pulled the shades, and JD curled away from the sunlight that swept into the room, blinding him. "Turk... what the...?"
"Come on," Turk said shortly. "We're going for a walk."
"What?" JD squinted at him, blinking. "I don't... I'd rather not, I'd..."
"Yeah, yeah, you'd like to be alone, you need time, blah blah. Just get your shoes on and come with me, would you?"
Turk was clearly not taking no for an answer so JD obeyed, numbly pulling on his socks and tennis shoes, shrugging on a light jacket and walking out of the apartment for the first time in over two weeks (Elliot and Carla had been doing his grocery shopping for him, though he still wasn't eating much).
"Where are we going?" he finally murmured, interested despite himself.
Turk glanced back at him, but shook his head and picked up the pace a little. "You don't know?"
JD bit his lip, jogging a little to keep up. "Turk, I... I don't think..."
"You haven't gone to see him since the funeral, JD," Turk said. "I don't know about you, but to me that just doesn't seem right."
"I need more time," JD whispered, feeling his throat tightening up as they rounded a corner and came within sight of the cemetery. "I...Turk, I can't do this..." he stopped, backing up a few steps, a strange panic taking him over.
Turk was ready for him, though. He lunged forward and caught JD's wrist. "Look, JD," he murmured. "I know you're hurting, but this... this isn't right, man. You never even gave him a proper goodbye, you know?"
JD glowered at him, yanking his wrist away. "I spent the last fucking year saying goodbye to him," he snapped. "Jesus, Turk, what the fuck do you think I was doing the whole time I was holding his hand and watching him slowly slip away?"
"You were doing just that!" Turk retorted. "You were holding on. He's been gone for two months and it's what you're still doing! JD, he wouldn't want this. You know that! Now stop avoiding this and let him go!"
JD's anger fled as quickly as it came; his eyes filled, and he shook his head, desperately. "Turk, I can't," he moaned. "I can't, I...!"
Turk pulled him into a hug, letting JD sob into his shoulder. "You can, buddy," he said softly. "You can, and you should. And you will. Come on."
He drew JD forward; JD, too weak to protest, let himself be led through the cast-iron gates of the cemetery and between the rows of headstones. Before he was really even aware of being there, he found himself in front of the black marble stone he'd picked out a few months prior, when it had become clear that Perry was really on his way out.
"Talk to him," Turk said softly, rubbing JD's back gently. "He'll hear you; I promise, man. I told Carla I'd go take care of her mom's grave, but then I'll be waiting for you at the gate. Take as long as you need."
Then he was gone, disappearing into the rows of headstones, leaving JD alone.
He stood for a very long time, simply staring at the marker.
Perry Cox
1963-2007
Devoted doctor, loving father, faithful friend
As he stood, staring at the inscription that had been Carla's doing (JD had simply not cared enough, at the time, to be worried about what to write on the marker), he suddenly found himself almost laughing.
"Loving father," he murmured. "Faithful friend? Jesus, Perry... what would you have said, if you'd known your epitaph would be such sentimental schlock?"
He sank to his knees, reaching out to trace the letters carved into the marble. "You would've kicked my ass for being too out of it to pick something better, wouldn't you?" He sat back on his heels, looking at his hands as they came to rest in his lap. And God, he'd really been losing it, if even his fingers were that thin...
"I guess I owe you an apology, huh?" he asked softly, pulling his coat tighter around him. "I told you I'd try to be okay, and...I haven't made much of an effort. We found out a year ago, and I still can't believe it's real. That you're...you're gone. You'd think the funeral thing would've clued me in, but I guess not."
JD paused, almost expecting some kind of answer, but there was nothing. Just a chill breeze through the headstones. He sighed. "This is weird. Talking to you like this. Turk says you can hear me. I wish I had his faith--I never missed it, not until now, but I'd give about anything, if it meant I could be sure you were still out there somewhere, listening to me..." he closed his eyes, drawing a shaky breath. "At least, when...when it was almost over, I could still hold you, even if you weren't awake to hear me anymore. You know, I... I keep dreaming that you've come home, that it was all some horrible nightmare, and you're teasing me for sleeping in...God, Perry, it was bad enough when my dad died, and you were there to help me through it, but this... who'll help me through this? Everyone's trying, I think, but I just..."
He paused, to wipe away the tears that turned cold against his cheeks as they fell. "I guess Turk's right, I don't want to let go. Don't want to admit it's really real, and you're...dead. But you are. You are, and if there's anything after this, you're probably running out of patience with me, huh? I guess I didn't give up hoping, when I stopped searching. I thought...I don't know. But nearly six years as a doctor hasn't seemed to help remind me people die when you don't want them to.
"I don't want to let go of you. I really don't. But I think...I think I have to, for both our sakes. And for Jack's...he needs one of his fathers, right? And if I don't change things..." JD shook his head, biting his lip. "Well, if I don't change things I'll be seeing you again a lot sooner than I should, and I can't think you'd be happy about that. Guess I'd better make sure I've still got a job, too...And go see my friends. And I... I have to start living again. I wish...But no. No, no point to, not really.
"Jack's birthday is in a week. He's having a big party, and it's all he's been talking about. He wants you to come. I guess we should've explained 'going away' better, huh? Fuck, I should've paid more attention...Should be paying attention, now. You didn't want me to die with you, did you? No one did. No one but me, and I don't want to die, not really, I... I just want you to still be alive..." More tears fell, and he didn't even try to brush them away now. "I miss you, Perry. I miss you so much..." he paused, shaking his head slowly. "But that's not going to go away, and it won't get easier if all I do is think about it, huh? I guess... I guess I'll have to just learn to live with it, and stop hiding from everyone in the meantime."
JD wasn't sure how long he sat there, still talking, just that the ground had leeched the warmth from his body, and his cheeks felt raw from the chill wind against his tears. But by the time Turk returned, he felt the beginnings of peace within him.
"Hey, buddy," Turk said softly. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but you were gone for almost an hour, and I thought I'd make sure you hadn't fallen asleep on me."
JD looked up at him and managed a weak smile. "I... no," he said, wiping at his cheeks and letting Turk help him to his feet. "No, actually, I think I've finally started to wake up. I... I still have to live, I guess. That's what he was trying to tell me, those last few months, and I didn't really hear him until now." He closed his eyes, a few tears slipping free, but his smile got a little stronger. "Hey, Turk, I just wanted to... to say... well, thanks for making me come out here."
Turk slapped his shoulder lightly. "No problem, buddy," he said softly. "You know I still got your back."
JD nodded again. "I do know, and I appreciate it," he said. "I just--could you give me a few more minutes? I'll meet you at the gate..."
Turk nodded, walking away; JD waited until he was out of earshot, then turned back to the marker. "I love you, Perry," he said, still smiling even as the tears streamed down his froze cheeks. "I never thought I would, and sometimes even now I can't quite believe it happened, but... it did. I love you, and I'm so glad we had... the time that we did. I'll never, ever forget it, not any of it. Not even the very end. And I want you to know... if you can hear me, somehow, somewhere, that I... I will be okay. Just like you wanted. I promised I'd try, and I guess... I guess it's time I started keeping that promise."
He closed his eyes, releasing his breath on a long sigh and feeling an odd lightening in his heart. Oh, the pain was still there--JD knew it probably would be, to some extent, for the rest of his life, but... something else had come to join it. Something warm, some strange combination of peace and hope.
His smile grew a little. "Goodbye, Perry," he murmured, and he closed his eyes briefly when the breeze picked up a little, rustling through the bare limbs of the trees that were just beginning to show signs of early spring buds.
Then he lowered his head and turned away, heading back toward Turk, who stood waiting for him at the gate.
* * *