Death Talk

"Hey, Newbie."

"Yeah?"

"What do you think you would do if Ghandi... y'know, died?"

Two figures, both male, one shorter and smaller than the other, sat in front of a grave stone, bottles of empty beer surrounding them, and twin sets of flowers sat at the grave's base. Perry glanced at the man sitting next to him, curious. Being in a depressed mood about Ben's death, he had dragged his protege, once again, out of his house in the middle of the night, straight to the graveyard with a six-pack, and forced him into a conversation.

JD popped the cap off yet another bottle, and took a quick sip, looking thoughtful. Glancing at the surrounding little of green glass, Perry thought he might be having a negative influence on the younger doctor. Oh well.

"Mm. I actually have an answer for this one. See, three years after me and Turk met each other, well, we were already best friends by then. One day, we agreed that if one of us died before the other one, we'd take care of the people that were close to them. You know, family, girlfriend, wife, etcetera. We promised each other we'd stay alive long enough to have all of that stuff. But I think we both know neither of us would last long without the other..."

"Isn't that just a teensy bit dramatic, there, Newbie."

"No, man, not really... I don't think I could live without Turk, to be honest. He's like my other half, we can hardly stand to be a few miles apart from each other, let alone never see each other again."

"Don't you believe in heaven, Newbie?"

"Not really."

"Me neither."

"Turk says he'll pray enough for the both of us."

"Greaaaat."

"Anyway... well, I guess you're sort of right - we wouldn't just... drop dead without the other one around... I mean, we'd be existing, but we wouldn't be living."

"My God, Priscilla, you sound like a cheap romance novel."

"Sorry. I don't mean to ramble. Still... if I died, you would take care of... well, you'd take care of Carla anyway, but you'd look after Turk and Elliot... and... and my brother, right?"

"Yeah...yeah, JD, I would. You don't have to worry about that. And I know that if I died, you would look after Jack and the She-Devil for me."

"It's so sweet you have a nickname for her... and you know I would, Perry."

"Good to know, kid. So... if Ghandi, uh, kicked the bucket, would you off yourself?"

"You're surprisingly fixated on this topic..."

"C'mon, I'm depressed, and it's actually interesting to listen to... like my soaps."

"Whatever. And no - that was part of our agreement - no suicide. And no 'acidental' car crashes or anything, Turk caught me on that one."

"This is... increasingly disturbing the more you talk about it."

"Then can we stop?"

"Not on your life."

"God... what's there to talk about? If I died, Turk would probably last, five years, maybe more if he had kids, before he collapsed into despair and stopped functioning completely. If he died, I might last two years before I nilched the agreement and offed myself."

"Ouch. And what if I tell Ghandi about this little slip?"

"He already knows. He knew when we made it I wouldn't be able to stick to it... he did make me promise for it to be painless, though... like, stealing morphine from the hospital or something..."

"Geez, this is so depressing..."

"Yup."

"...Hey, Per?"

"Yeah?"

"I'd be sad it you died, too."

"...ditto, Newbie."

Somewhere far away, Ben Sullivan watched over two souls caught in a moment, and grinned to himself,

"Cheese!"

And snapped a photo.