My Reality

Chapter Two

JD sat on the edge of the bed as Perry slept in a deep sleep. The preliminary scans showed slight brain damage, but the doctors had no way of knowing how it would affect him until he woke up.

The bruises were all over his body, and made JD cringe even now. His hand was wrapped in a cast, but his arm was healed. JD wondered idly how he had removed the thick material without going to a hospital, but then he had seen the long, deep scar going up and down his arm and JD didn't want to know anymore.

Between the bruised lung and two broken ribs, his breathing had been shallow all night. Two of the worst bruises were across his face in angry, purplish-green splotches on his jaw and cheekbone. His hair had been cut short and slightly unevenly. Carla had come in earlier to even it out so that it was barely more then two inches long.

JD crossed his arms. It was hard to distance yourself from the patient when the patient was a friend. Smiling despite the situation, JD corrected himself that Perry was more then a friend.

"Has he left yet?" Elliot asked from outside the room.

Carla shook her head. "No. Bambi's been in there since last night."

"Has Perry woken up at all yet?"

"He did twice during the night," Carla replied reluctantly. "The first time, he seemed fine until the nurse came in to check his vitals. Bambi calmed him down from that one. But the second time, Bambi wasn't there, and they had to sedate him pretty heavily."

"I bet he liked that for all of two seconds."

"You were two seconds off," Carla replied weakly. "I went home with Turk, and you know that Jordan was here until one am, and after that, she just couldn't be here."

Elliot nodded absently. "She didn't talk about it much, to be honest. But we've all seen how well Jordan or Dr. Cox reacts when someone pushes them to do much of anything."

"I wonder how that's working for her now that Jack's talking more."

Elliot snorted. "Jack and I go the park a lot so Mommy-Depressive can scream in the bathroom when he repeats her too much."

Carla placed her hands over her own belly. At seven months, she was getting ready to prepare for maternity leave.

"How's JD?" Elliot asked her.

"I don't know. He hasn't talked to anyone all night."

JD watched them idly. "Some things never change around here." He stood up from the bed and sat down in a chair that he scooted up to it. "Although as I recall, you were the one in my position last time around. What is this; some kind of weird role reversal that you're just hell-bent on throwing at me today? I've got interns coming in all of five minutes to ascertain your injuries and prognosis. I wish you were awake to yell at them. They've only had me, and I'm doing a piss-poor job of filling your shoes."

Perry didn't move through JD's quiet monologue.

JD picked up his hand, twining their fingers together once more. "I didn't think you'd ever come back," he finally went on when he thought he could trust his voice. "I never could give up on you. God knows I tried."

Standing, JD sighed. "I want to stay, but I've got work. But I took the liberty of surfing through the bag of stuff they put your things in." He produced the faded green hooded sweatshirt. "You kinda hit someone and broke their nose when they tried to take it from you." He draped it over the chair near the bed. "I'll be back at the end of my shift."

JD turned and walked out of the room, his chest uncomfortably tight as his knee protested the lack of sleep and excess of humidity.

A loud crack of thunder made the lights blink in the hospital, and JD whirled to a window.

The rain had begun to pour outside.

XXXXXXXX

Susan and Derek surveyed the concussed man lying asleep in the bed.

JD and Elliot stood outside of the room, staring at the past in amusement.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Elliot asked with laughter in her voice.

"That someone ought to tell them to give up on the sex thing now while they're ahead?" JD replied with a snort.

"Oh, too late. I caught them in the supply closet a week ago," Carla said as she passed by.

"Great," JD muttered. "Now I have to deal with what is most likely going to turn out to be a three year long diatribe of veritable drama between the young and the stupid."

"We weren't that bad, were we?" Elliot sniffed.

"No, you two were worse," Jordan supplied as she came from the opposite direction of Carla. "Perry can barely keep his mouth shut at work, let alone home."

"Go home to Hades already; would you?" JD called after her.

"Are you coming too, Persephone?" Jordan called back without turning her head.

"I think that was a crack on you," JD said to Elliot.

Derek fumbled something awkwardly when Susan leaned over the bed to grab something from the nightstand table.

JD nearly growled. "That's just pathetic. Excuse me, Elliot. Or would you like to witness this?"

"I'm sure it's going to be delightful, Elliot replied as she slipped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. "I don't think I'd miss it if you paid me."

"Watch and see what I've learned over the years." JD kicked the door open loudly (as he was sure Perry was sedated enough to still be completely out). "Hiya, Donny and Marie. How are we doing today?"

Derek opened his mouth to answer.

"Bah, Marie, I wasn't actually expecting you to reply," JD went on casually. "Now, I gotta tell you two this one because you know, I was standing outside the window when Donny over here decided to advertise just how often she's given away the Popsicle for free, but Marie, you're actually willing to pay for the ice cream cone! Now, cute and dramatic though this may be, it is not doing a damn bit of difference for the man lying in the bed here. Now which one of you two lovebirds wants to crap out whatever it is that's gotten into your system, wipe your powdered baby ass, and tell me what's going on with this man?"

Derek's mouth opened and shut for a minute, and even Susan's face was a little red.

"We haven't checked him over yet, Dr. Dorian," Derek finally blurted out. Susan jabbed him sharply.

"Oh, now that's just re-he-heely fantastic, Marie! Say, precious, when you do manage to pull your head out of your ass, let me know. Dr. Reid?"

Elliot looked at him and gestured to the patient in the bed. "Concussion, broken hand, presenting with numerous bruises and internal injuries. Probable brain damage."

Though it hurt to hear, JD knew she was correct. "Now ya see, kiddies? How difficult was that exactly? Scram."

Derek and Susan shot out of the room with red faces, both yelling at the other for being incompetent.

"Now that's just sad," Laverne said from the door. "There's two of 'em every year." She walked off to report the story to the fifth floor secretary.

Elliot looked at Perry's motionless body in the bed. "You're doing him proud."

JD raised a careful eyebrow at that. "Ya know, there is so much wrong with that, it's not even funny."

"JD!" She rapped his shoulder lightly. "Seriously, if I'd been one of those kids, I'd probably be in the supply closet right now."

"Well, see…here comes the fun part then." JD gestured here to follow, and walked to the supply closet in question. "Ten bucks that it's the guy."

"I'll take that bet," Elliot replied.

Looking up and down the hallway with a careful look, JD raised his cane from the ground and swung at it like he was hitting a baseball.

A loud thud resonated from the supply closet, and Derek tumbled onto the ground.

"Pay up, Reid."

Elliot grudgingly handed him a couple of fives. "I'll get it back." She touched his shoulder as she left. "Let me know if he wakes up, okay?"

JD nodded. "You bet." He looked at Derek, who was stumbling to his feet and wiping his red face. "Come on, Ashley. Believe it or not, when I was an intern here, I had a mentor just like I am now."

"An egotistical jerk with no friends?" Derek muttered, and when JD stared at him amusingly, his face went a little more red. "Did I say that out loud?"

"Why yes, Erica. You did. Go give Mrs. Taylor an enema for her intestinal blockage."

Groaning, Derek nodded and walked off.

JD headed back to Perry's room tiredly. He wanted to sit with the man, but he did have work to do.

Deciding he could take a five minute break, JD entered the room again and sat down in the chair. He picked up the faded green hoodie and looked at it for a moment.

"You stole my sweater," JD muttered accusingly to the man in the bed, but Perry didn't answer.

Sighing, JD used it for a pillow under his head and took Perry's hand in his own to catch a few minutes of shut-eye.

XXXXXXXXX

Consciousness came in a slow, heavy fog that made his head hurt. His limbs felt heavy and difficult to lift, with laziness drifting easily over his entire body. Swallowing, he realized his throat was incredibly dry and that his mouth tasted terrible.

Slowly, Perry let his eyes drift open. Harsh, fluorescent lighting nearly blinded him straight off, exacerbating his headache to a near-migraine.

As alertness began to drift over his body, he began to recognize the familiar smells and sounds of a hospital. And something had a grip on his hand. He frowned. The hand that wasn't in a cast, anyway. The left side of his chest yelled at him in protest of being awake, and as he licked his lips, his jaw gave a shout of soreness as well. He then realized that he couldn't quite see out of his left eye.

Looking down, Perry inspected the dark head pillowed beside of his leg, a pale hand gripping his own tightly. He cleared his throat.

JD jumped at the slight cough and immediately sat up. How long had he been out? Why hadn't anyone woken him? Glancing at the clock, he groaned.

Some poor soul (bless their heart though) had let him sleep the entire day away. Probably Elliot or Carla.

"Welcome back, Perry," JD said warmly.

But the look returned to him was both confusing and even angry. "Say, Newbie…can I ask you a question?"

"Uh…yeah, I guess so," JD said, a weighty dread beginning to settle over his shoulders.

Perry reached over carefully and pried JD's hand from his own. "Since when, Alanna, have we ever held hands? What the hell happened?"

JD's heart skipped into his throat. "You don't know?"

"Since when do I ask you anything unless I absolutely have to, Newbie?"

Feeling slightly sick, JD stood and backed out of the room. "I can't talk to you right now then. You've been here for three days. You've been missing for six months. And I shouldn't have even told you that much."

Derek rushed into the room, a sense of urgency in his step. "Uh…Dr. Dorian, I just got back some…"

"Hey, Lisa. I don't know if you know this, but I am not at your beck and call every single minute of the waking hours that I have to spend here in the pits of the seventh level of hell, so if you don't mind, I actually do have something else to do right now. Scoot, Jenny!"

Derek ran off.

Perry raised an eyebrow at that. "Did they have a sale on testicles?"

"I'm going to get a doctor," JD replied irritably, and walked out of the room with cane in hand as he willed the tears and hurt to go away.

Perry watched him leave, wondering what or who had put that look in Newbie's eyes. His delayed response was why the hell the kid needed something to help him walk. The second more surprising response was that he wanted to break whoever it was to put that kicked-puppy look on his face into very small pieces and set them on fire. He shook that feeling off as quickly as he could, though something made him feel vaguely bad for doing so.

JD caught up to Carla at the nurse's desk. "Carla, call a psych consult."

"He's awake?" Carla asked excitedly. "How is he? Is he okay?"

"I don't know," JD replied honestly. "Just call the consult."

"Bambi, what's…"

"God damn it, Carla, would just call the freaking consult?" JD snapped angrily as the hurt pushed at his heart.

Carla jumped a little, her concern replaced by anger. "What the hell's gotten into you?"

"He doesn't remember, alright?" JD snapped at her, hating that his voice cracked. "Or at least, he doesn't remember anything that happened between him and me. He didn't know that he'd been here for three days, or that he'd been missing at all."

"I see." Carla picked up the phone then and called the necessary consult. "Maybe it's just temporary, Bambi."

"Yeah," JD laughed bitterly as he rubbed his face. "That's what everything's been since day one. I'm not coming in tomorrow." He stalked off, leaving Carla to worry.

XXXXXXXXX

Perry eyed the psychologist warily. The man hadn't said a word yet, and Perry was already irritated with him.

Dr. Stravinski looked up at him finally. "Do you know where you're at?"

"Sacred Heart," Perry replied dully as he leaned back. His entire body had begun to hurt now, and he wondered if a real doctor could come and give him a happy shot. The cast on his hand still confused him, as did the steady throb on the left side of his chest. Whenever he had spoke, he had felt his jaw twinge at him in angry pain, and his left eye was bleary and out of focus, which only made him feel dizzy.

"Do you know the date?"

Perry opened his mouth and then closed it. "No."

Dr. Stravinski made a check on his clipboard. "Do you know your name?"

"Dr. Perry Cox," he muttered as he crossed his arms. "Look, this is gonna get really tedious really fast if this is all you're going to do is ask me crap that I already know."

Dr. Stravinski raised an eyebrow, but went through the obligatory questions anyway: age, job, family, friends, background history…

Perry rubbed at his temples an hour later. "Look…all I can tell you is that if I've been missing for six months, I've got no clue where I've been or what I was doing, alright?"

"How did you know you had been missing for six months then?"

"Newbie told me," Perry grumbled reluctantly.

"Do you have any recollection of a man named Elijah Nichols or Joshua Andrews?"

"Who?"

Dr. Stravinski nodded to him as he wrote at the bottom of his clipboard. "That'll be all for now, Dr. Cox. I'll get back to you later." He stood and left.

"Thanks, ass face," Perry muttered and squeezed his eyes shut. "Hey, you want to send in a real doctor to give me a happy shot?" As the psychologist left, Perry inspected his good hand. A dark bruise was across the wrist. As he listened to the beeping monitor beside of him, the urge to count the beeps entered his mind. He frowned, and lay back to close his eyes and ignore it.

Dr. Stravinski shoved down a retort and closed the door behind him. He met with Jordan and pulled her aside. "I take it his situation with either of his captors was quite traumatic?" Dr. Stravinski asked.

Jordan snorted. "You could say that." She cocked her head to the side. "And by doing so, I hereby present you with the biggest understatement of the year award."

Dr. Stravinski pulled his glasses off and tucked them into his pocket. "Between the knock on the head and the experience, he's showing classic signs of retrograde amnesia. That would be from the knock on the head, but that's more likely to be a long-term memory issue, or even short-term. We won't know for sure until he's been up and around for a few days."

Jordan shrugged. "Then what's wrong with his memory now?"

"The other memory loss is more of a psychological attribution. It's usually only common in children or young adults, but when the human mind goes through a severely traumatic experience, it sometimes blocks off those memories in self-defense."

"You can make your point now."

Dr. Stravinski rolled his eyes wearily. "Disassociative amnesia, Ms. Sullivan. He can't face or accept what's happened to him now that he's somewhere he considers safe. So his mind has taken away the decision to remember the experience at all. It can be helped with therapy, or even taking him somewhere that will allow him to face the past trauma. It would be best if he remembers it eventually; it's not smart to simply let a traumatized patient believe that nothing has happened."

Jordan nodded quietly, staring at Perry in the bed. He looked annoyed and bored, but stared at his cast in confusion every few minutes or so.

"Thanks." Jordan passed by him to find Elliot. "Hey, blondie. Where'd DJ skulk off to?"

"Probably a bar; can you blame him?" Elliot replied. "We're getting ready to send Turk after him so that he won't get his ass kicked."

Jordan snorted. "Like hell. I'll be back in a few."

Before Elliot could ask, Jordan was walking off.

XXXXXXXXX

JD nursed the beer in front of him. He'd always been a lightweight, but after six beers, all he really wanted was to be more drunk. He lifted the glass bottle to his lips, but found it empty. He signaled to the bartender.

"No appletinis tonight?" the bartender asked, wiping down the counter as he plunked another cold one in front of the dark-haired man.

"Beer's fine for me," JD muttered, not wanting to talk at all at this point. After all the waiting, all the heartache, all the pain…hell, he'd never even opened the letter Perry had left for him; he'd been that sure that he'd come back, and the healing process could finally begin.

A squeak from the barstool next to him indicated that someone had sat down beside of him. JD prayed against everything that the person would simply mind their own business as he lifted the beer to his lips again. He wondered if his stomach could handle a shot.

"Not going well with Per-bear then?"

JD looked up and groaned. "Medusa, I so don't want to get into it right now. Can't you just crawl back to whatever piece of brimstone someone released you from?"

Jordan cocked her head as she turned to JD. "Look, they wanted to send your bodyguard, but I insisted."

JD snorted as he drank from his beer. "Hey, barkeep. I'll take a shot of vodka."

"Manly man, are we?" Jordan quipped as the bartender handed her a beer of her own.

"Golly-gee-whiz, what's the thing I'm trying to think of to say to you right now?" JD asked mockingly. "Oh yeah. I remember. Go to hell and screw yourself properly on the way so Satan doesn't have to kill himself when you get there."

Jordan sipped her beer, long used to cutting remarks and easy insults. "That how you've stayed close to him for so long then? By acting like him?"

"What is it you always say when someone's a moron?" JD asked blearily. "Oh yeah. You're a moron."

"At least I'm not sitting in a bar by myself so I can throw a great big pity-party of one, DJ."

"Christ, did Elliot put you up to this?" JD asked as he drained the shot of vodka.

"No, princess wanted to send your big scary bodyguard in hopes that if you managed to get your pansy ass into a barfight, he'd be able to pull off the "angry black man" routine so you wouldn't your ass kicked."

"You should've let them send Turk. He'd at least be quiet."

"You don't need quiet right now, DJ." Jordan sipped from her beer again. "What you need is a good kick in the ass."

"You don't even know what you're talking…"

"Like hell I don't, junior," Jordan cut him off. "This is how it's going to work for the next few minutes. I'm going to talk; you're going to listen."

JD glared at her. "What the hell do you want?"

"Do you really want Perry's first memories of waking up to consist of you acting like a spoiled brat? So he doesn't remember you right now. But he doesn't remember what happened to him either. Maybe it's for the best."

"You cannot seriously be suggesting that we just…not tell him, can you?"

"I'm not saying that, baby spice. What I am saying is that you could be a hell of a lot more help to him sober then drunk. He will remember eventually, and if you just act like this the whole time before then, he'll be mad as hell at you when he does come around."

JD smirked at his thoughts. "Yeah…well, if he comes after me, I've got something now that'll save me from his wrath that I didn't have back then."

Jordan raised an eyebrow, though she felt her duty done now that she'd gotten through to JD enough to lift his spirits slightly.

"What's that, DJ?"

"I've got a cane that I can beat his ass with." JD dropped a few bills on the counter, grabbed said-cane, and walked towards the exit.

Jordan snorted and finished her beer. "Going back to the hospital?"

JD sighed where he stood, shoulders drooped. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"That's a good boy."

XXXXXXXXXX

Perry sighed in the bed. The broken hand; he could live with. The bruised lung and broken ribs he could live with. What began to bother him was the soreness in other places. The thought had started to become rather uncomfortable as he struggled to wrap his mind around the foggy memories that were hiding away somewhere.

Sighing, Perry felt the pain in his body fade as the drugs kicked in. Something in body began to panic slightly for reasons he didn't understand. Struggling to calm his body down, Perry pinched the bridge of his nose.

Something about narcotics was definitely driving his system up the wall, making him feel as though someone had a weapon pointed to his head. Yet familiar grip of terror hit his stomach at that thought, so he tried to think of something else.

Boobs…hockey…football…beer…

Eventually, his body began to slow down. Perry looked around the room again, wondering how long it would be before they let him out.

His eyes fell on a faded green hooded sweatshirt draped over the back of the chair. He leaned over and swiped it onto the bed.

Frowning down at it, Perry ran his fingers over the battered material. Something tickled just at the back of his mind, but was gone as soon as he tried to pinpoint it. His shoulders stiffened slightly in irritation.

Irritation turned to a groan when JD entered the room, hand tightly gripped around his cane.

JD held his walking stick tightly in case he needed to hit something (not to mention someone).

"How are you feeling, Dr. Cox?" JD asked as he sat down in the chair.

Perry raised an eyebrow. "I'm touched, Brenda, but as far as I'm concerned, you can leave now or I can throw you out in about two minutes."

"I'm not leaving," JD said more firmly then he felt. "And if you try to throw me out, I'll beat you with my cane."

"That's another thing, Newbie. Did someone finally give you the beating you so deserve?"

JD felt the hurt inside, and pushed it away as he looked Perry in the eye. "No. Someone shot my kneecap out."

Perry jerked back a little at that. "What the hell has been going on?"

"We can't tell you that. Better for you to remember on your own then to have the secondhand story from anyone else. Besides that, you never quite told anyone but the police what happened to you."

"Christ; what are you here for then?"

"Because I promised you once that I would be."

Perry found his ears turning slightly pink at that, though he couldn't decide if it was anger or embarrassment. "Dear god, Newbie, are you in love with me?" Perry snapped, falling back on humiliation to get the kid to leave.

JD only sat back, stretching his knee out to accommodate the soreness there. "So…what do you remember?"

Perry gritted his teeth. "I remember you asking me for help on some whiny ass addict, and I remember telling you to boot him out."

JD nodded. "Then I have an idea of where we stand." He eyed the green hoodie that Perry still clutched in his hands. "And I'd ask you to give me my sweatshirt back." He held out his hand for it.

Perry debated for a moment about whether he should relinquish it or not. "I thought it was mine," he stalled for a minute, not sure why he couldn't stand to let someone else have it. "I came in with it, didn't I?"

"You came in with it, yeah…but it's mine," JD replied. "My name should be written on the tag."

"Why do you still label your clothes, Mary Lou? Going to summer camp?"

JD sighed as he rubbed his eyes. "I don't know why you've got it. But it is, in fact, mine."

Perry nearly gave it to him, but the moment his fingers began to hand it over, something made him freeze and hang onto it.

"Well, damn it, Newbie…it's just so comfy, I think I'll keep it anyway."

JD felt a small victory in his mind, but bummed because he couldn't share it with Perry.

"Keep it then. I've got plenty." Including a brown one that doesn't belong to me…I wonder if he'd switch…

Perry felt the frustration beginning to circle in his stomach as he eyed JD's amused face. The kid knew something that he didn't, and it was beginning to just piss him off.

"I can leave if that's what you really want me to do," JD mentioned casually as he massaged his swollen knee.

Perry thought of his options then as far as company went, because he didn't feel like being alone tonight. The thought of Jordan being in the room was somewhat laughable to him, and he was fairly certain she'd think the same.

Which really only left Carla or Newbie, and Carla was seven months pregnant. Memories of Jordan's pregnancy was clear enough that he knew he didn't want a pregnant woman there, no matter how good a friend she was.

Giving JD a withering stare, he shrugged. "You can stay…"

JD let his lips twist into his old goofy smile. "Cool."

"If you promise not to talk," Perry finished, feeling his heart unexpectedly lift at that earnest smile.

Again, the kid just beamed him an amused grin. "I can do that."

Continues with Chapter 3