My Split Conference

Chapter One - Go Somewhere New

"No way, not ever, never-ever, not in this lifetime, not in your lifetime, not in your weird girly little dreams, and de-hefinitely no. I don’t think I can make myself anymore clear, Newbie."

Don’t be a smart-ass, don’t be a smart-ass…

"See if I ever try to save you gas again, Coxerooni," JD spouted off before he could shut his mouth.

Perry Cox’s eye ticked and his cheeks turned slightly red. "I’m going to assume you’ve still got half a brain after all of the pansy incense you keep sniffing, so I’m not going to dignify that with an answer. Get back to work."

JD bumped his head into the wall again, finally managing to resist saying that he liked patchouli, not pansy. He turned back to the nurse’s station where Carla stacked new charts in front of him.

"That was just stupid, Bambi."

"So’s your face," JD replied. "Hello!" He picked up the charts and skipped off.

Carla rolled her eyes as Dr. Cox came back around the corner, eyeing the area surreptitiously for JD.

"Is Alice gone?"

"He flounced off that way if you want me to call him," Carla offered with a teasing note.

Perry rolled his eyes and heaved his arms to the counter. "You live to torture men; I swear to god. Have you been hanging around Jordan again? Damn it, Carla, I told you she’d suck out your soul and replace it with an alien spore."

Carla rolled her dark eyes quickly. "Why did you have to yell at Bambi so hard? He was just trying to save you gas."

Perry looked up at her. "You see, Carla, Bobcat’s forcing me to go to some useless medical conference on a new psychotherapy-slash-drug therapy for crazy folks who have just three too many people in their screwed-up little minds. You’d think Bobbo would pull his head out of his ass for three seconds to just do it himself, but ho-no! Bobbles, like Jordan and apparently you, just live to make my life even more of a living hell than it already is, so he’s asked …well, threatened with firing, honestly-that Sally Lou and I go so we can better treat the lame-sick lazy and the broke-ass crazy."

Carla nodded at him and looked up from her chart. "I’m sorry; you were ranting?"

Perry glared at her. "I have to go to a medical conference with Janice. She wants to carpool. I, however, just don’t have the patience or the desire to listen to lovey-dovey soft rock ballads about the pain of love during a seven-hour-ride because Bob "Beelzebub" Kelso was too cheap to sport plane tickets to lovely Scottsdale, Arizona."

"It would save gas."

"Bite me." Perry snatched a chart from her and stalked off.

Carla gave a harrumph to him and turned back to her work.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"No, no, no, no, no, Jordan! There is no way in the bottomless hell you call home that you can take the car this weekend!"

Jordan frowned mockingly at him as she plopped a plate to Jack’s highchair. "You’re right, Per. I really should be more considerate of your plans that you don’t tell me about. I’m sorry, and…" she trailed off into a fit of giggles.

Perry frowned.

"Oh, sorry…I just couldn’t keep a straight face while saying that!" Jordan sauntered over to him and plucked the keys from his pocket. "It’d be really strange if I could though."

Perry scraped his hands through his hair, wondering if God hated him today. "Jordan, you just don’t get it; if I can’t have the car this weekend, I…"

"Bup!" Jordan cut him off neatly. "I told you weeks ago that I was taking it for the weekend. I even wrote it on the calendar. How much of this is my fault now when you were the one who forgot?"

"What about your car, Medusa?"

"See, once again, Per…my car is in the shop because someone likes to play bumper-tag during stoplights."

Perry gave her one last desperate, confused frown. "You are condemning me to seven hours in a car with someone I absolutely cannot stand for more then seven seconds if you do this."

Jordan clapped her hands together as Jack landed a spoonful of mashed potatoes to Perry’s nose. He giggled and slapped the plate.

"Even Jack agrees that we both wish we could be there to see your misery," Jordan said lightly and kissed his cheek.

Perry groaned as he wiped the mushy food from his face. He thought if growling would help, he might be tempted to do it at the moment. Instead, he grabbed his jacket.

"I’m going out," he muttered.

"Say bye to Per-bear, Jacky," Jordan said, voice still light.

"Bye, Per-bear!" Jack crowed after him.

Perry winced on his way to the bar. He decided the walk might help him cool off a little, even if it was humid and cool outside in the December air. Lights blinked merrily in the trees already, and he did growl at those.

When he’d reached the bar, he did feel decidedly calmer, if still angry. Perry shoved open the door and flopped down at the counter.

The bartender, a stocky italian man named Nick, wiped down the surface. "Rough night, doc?"

Perry only grimaced at him and held up two fingers. "Women."

Nick gave a hearty, tar-filled laugh as he made the glass of scotch. "Can’t live with ‘em, can’t hire a man to kill ‘em unless you want jail time."

Perry raised an eyebrow at him and took his drinks as he turned to find another seat away from the mafia man.

"Dr. Cox! Fancy seeing you here," Elliot said brightly, cheeks flushed with alcohol. "You want to join us?" She leaned over the counter, albeit a little sloppily, and grinned at Nick. "Fix us up, Nick!"

Perry only glared at her. "It depends, do you have a gun over there with which I can shoot myself or anyone around me first?"

Nick wiped the counter. "I might, but it’ll cost ya."

"I wasn’t even talking to you and that is just…well…strange," Perry remarked and stalked to an empty table.

Elliot rolled her eyes and juggled three beers and a cocktail drink as she walked back to Turk, JD, and Carla. "Guess who’s hiding in a bottle again," she muttered as she plunked the drinks down.

JD sipped his appletini with pleasure and grinned. "Who?"

"Dr. Cox, duh," Elliot replied with a shake of her head. "Hey, did you see if he wanted to carpool?"

Carla snorted at that, remembering the tear-down JD had received.

JD rolled his eyes. "He said no in about seven different ways."

Elliot winced. "Turns out I’m not going to be able to make the conference, JD. You’re going to have to find another way to get there."

"Elliot, don’t do this to me…can I at least borrow your car?"

"Hell no."

JD sighed and frowned. "Come on, Elliot…I’m the best driver you know. Turk’s the one that blew up my car."

"Don’t blame that on me; your car was ready to go," Turk pointed out. "Just rent one."

"With what, my good looks?" JD replied, but then wondered if he could. "I’m cute enough…maybe I can…"

"Earth to JD," Elliot replied, bumping his shoulder with her own. "Just take the bus. It’s cheaper then renting a car."

JD shrugged. "I might do that."

After that, however, JD couldn’t get "the wheels on the bus go round and round" from his head.

XXXXXXXX

Perry shoved his duffel in the bus’s luggage compartment with annoyance. No matter of begging, pleading, or promising had made Jordan relinquish the car keys that morning. On top of it all, the rental service had lost his reservation.

And there had only been one available bus ticket left.

He grumbled as he raked a hand through his hair again and looked to the cloudy, heavy skies. "Hey, man…just because I don’t believe in you doesn’t mean you get to take a big dump on me every day of my life."

On cue, the clouds finally released their burden in the form of a heavy, humid rain shower.

"Why, God…" Perry muttered and ran into the station to grab a cup of coffee before the bus took off.

When he boarded with a cup of hot, black acid that the bus station had passed for coffee and his backpack of medical journals to catch up on, there was only one seat left.

And he only knew one person who wore t-shirts that shade of pink and fixed their hair in that specific way.

Another moan to the man upstairs later, and Perry turned his face into his hands as he sat down beside of JD.

JD felt the seat beside of him get taken, and he turned to open his mouth in friendly conversation. His jaw fell open instead.

"Dr. Cox?"

"The one rule, Newbie, is that if you talk again, my fist is going to be so far down your throat that they’ll have to amputate my hand before they can get it out again. Clear?"

"Uh…crystal…sir." JD swallowed hard and forced his face back to the window.

Perry squeezed his eyes shut and tucked his head into his hands. This promised to be the longest seven hours of his entire life (including the parts of his honeymoon he could actually remember).

XXXXXXXXXX

Catching the red-eye to Arizona had definitely had side-effects, JD thought reluctantly as he stood to get off the bus. He stretched and heard a few pops in his back.

Perry didn’t move.

"Uh…Dr. Cox?" JD tried, but the man still didn’t budge. JD tried poking him, feeling very much like he was a midget poking a rather large tiger with a pointy object.

Perry jumped in the seat and glared at JD. "Say, Bethany…did you just poke me?"

"Uh…the bus stopped."

"What was the agreement if you ever touched me?"

JD grumbled but slapped a five-dollar bill in his hand. "A dollar the first time, five the second time, and so on."

"Good Newbie." Perry jerked his backpack to his shoulder and stalked off the bus.

JD continued grumbling in his head as he headed for the door himself. As he prepared to put a foot on solid ground, something came under his feet and he landed face-first into the dirt with a wince.

Perry snorted and pulled his bag away from the step. "Watch that first step, Grace. It’s a real lulu." He shoved the bag over his shoulders and headed for the hotel.

JD looked up at the sky and wondered why God hated him today.

XXXXXXXXXX

"And, as you can see in these patients here, we’ve had great success in achieving an almost normal state. This patient, Ms. Elizabeth Raymond, wasn’t able to function on her own without having a dissociative episode. Between the therapy and anti-psychotics, she can now go alone to the lavatory."

Perry snorted in his head. The anti-psychotics had made the woman look like a drugged-up refugee from a third-world country. He clapped slightly anyway in the small hospital and resisted the urge to pull at his tie.

JD frowned and leaned over. "Dr. Cox…what about the long-term negative effects of the anti-psychotics like Haldol?"

"That’s just it, Samantha," Perry replied irritatingly. "They can’t function with them, can’t function without them. These are either crazy prison inmates or people the family didn’t want anymore."

The man leading the seminar raised his arms out. "But take your time, folks. Talk to the patients; some of them are lucid tonight."

JD walked over to a man in the bed, noting that Perry fairly flew out of the room. He rolled his eyes and picked up the chart.

"Mr. Alexander?" JD asked politely as he surveyed the man’s chart.

Thomas Alexander was thirty-three years old (though he looked fifty), and was a long-time sufferer of Dissociative Identity Disorder.

JD read through the man’s background history, though it didn’t go into detail about the abusive home that he had come from. The man himself had short, almost military-style black hair, and was pale. His eyes were a drugged, cloudy brown as he lolled his head from side to side.

"Not this one, sport," the man leading the seminar said as he plucked the chart from JD’s hands. "He’s not responded well to the treatments at all."

"Then why keep him in the program?" JD asked curiously as he looked at the thin man in the bed.

"We’re hoping to improve his quality of life with the medication," the man replied and tucked the chart back into the bed.

JD looked at Mr. Alexander again, who had started drooling slightly. Feeling vaguely sorry for the man, JD grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and wiped the saliva from the man’s mouth.

The eyes unexpectedly went clear as he jerked his head towards JD’s. Something not quite human crossed over his face and he eyed JD. His eyes quickly stopped over something and then his head rolled back to the pillow.

JD jerked away, and threw the tissue into a waste can. He shook his head and decided he was probably tired, and that Mr. Alexander was having a negative side-effect of the anti-psychotics.

The more extreme side of the mental patients gave him the creeps anyway. Still, JD continued to make his rounds to the patients’ beds. He still came away from the floor with a shudder, telling himself that this was the exact reason he hadn’t gone into psychology or psychiatry.

That first patient hadn’t seemed sick at all for that short moment of time. JD shrugged it off again, though something didn’t sit right in his chest. He struggled to shake it off even as he took a much-needed, relaxing shower.

Perry watched the patients from just inside the ward’s door, making mental notes of his own. Mental patients no longer bothered him after being in medicine for so long, though the hopelessness of some of their situations was unfortunate.

The anti-psychotics sometimes did little more then turn the patients into zombies, which seemed to be predominant here. Many of the patients were staring into space, choking on their own saliva as they rolled from side to side. Others were mumbling incoherently, and some just lay still.

Shaking his head, Perry turned and made to leave for dinner. Many of the visiting doctors and specialists had already left the floor, having seen much of what they needed to. Now it was simply a matter of hearing the pros and cons of drugging the patients with anti-psychotics and putting them through talk-therapy.

Perry snorted at the idea of a bunch of drugged patients trying to "talk" about anything. Still, his mind quickly drifted to ways of how to make Bob Kelso’s life a living hell once he got back to Sacred Heart. As he walked, he noted that JD still made the usual rounds with other doctors in search of other knowledge he apparently hadn’t been able to get from his "mentor".

JD stood alone in the ward now, a few night nurses burbling at the main counter about one thing or another. He gave another look to the patients, and wandered back to Mr. Alexander’s chart again to survey the symptoms and treatment he had been put on.

"This program is complete and utter shit."

JD’s head came up from the chart. The man was staring at him again with that oddly twisted look on his thin face.

"You’re awake then," JD said casually. "I’m sure it’s helping to some extent."

Mr. Alexander grunted at that, plucking at his IV needle without pulling it out. "You try being pumped full of toxins and then asked about shit you don’t even remember anymore. It’s a load of crap is what it is."

The lucidity of the patient was beginning to unnerve JD, and he wondered if backing off would be a good idea.

"I don’t even really need help," Mr. Alexander went on. "They put me in some crap-ass institution when I was eighteen because my foster parents said I was "difficult". And then I got landed here when the other docs couldn’t figure me out."

JD did back away slightly at that as the man continued to pick at his IV needle. "Well," JD said, clearing his throat slightly. "I uh…gotta go."

"Will you come back tomorrow?" Mr. Alexander asked amusingly. "You can see what kind of dumbass conversation I get around here."

"Uh…maybe," JD replied noncommittally, and dropped the chart back in place. He walked towards the exit, but found his wrist gripped tightly. "Could you let go?"

Mr. Alexander gave a rusty laugh at that. "Let go, my ass." Still, he released JD’s slender wrist. "You know what it’s like for someone to lock you up with a bunch of other crazies when you know you’re not insane?"

"I don’t," JD said uncomfortably, and began to edge away.

"Come back tomorrow."

JD didn’t reply as he walked quickly out of the ward. His breathing had grown inexplicably harder without knowing why. He struggled to calm his pounding heart, and took a deep breath.

Thomas Alexander smirked at the doctor as he left, wheels turning slightly in his cloudy mind. He leaned his head back and took the stock look of a drooling baby again as the nurses came around to do a nightly check.

XXXXXXXXXX

After the morning discussion, JD yawned as he followed the other doctors tiredly to the psychological ward reluctantly. He hadn’t slept well last night, and his nerves were making him jittery.

Perry clapped a hand on JD’s shoulder, frowning when the kid jumped. "Out all night with the girls again, Newbie?"

"I didn’t sleep well," JD muttered.

"Buck up, Alicia. Maybe you can find yourself a nice boyfriend while you’re here."

JD groaned, but didn’t say anything about the odd encounter from the previous day as they entered the ward again.

Unlike yesterday, Perry did walk in today to take a closer look at the patients. He frowned. They were the same today, though he hadn’t expected otherwise. Many of the other doctors seemed to think the same, and were already planning their afternoon, obligatory golfing trip on the hotel grounds.

JD looked over at Mr. Alexander’s bed again. The man looked at him almost hopefully, but JD only turned his face away. The uneasy feeling was back, and JD swore he could feel the man’s eyes bearing into his back.

"Aren’t you going to come and talk with me again, Dr. Dorian?" Mr. Alexander called out.

Perry frowned in JD’s direction. "Family relative, Janice?"

"Just some patient," JD mumbled and scooted himself in the opposite direction of Mr. Alexander’s bed.

It was several hours later when they found a dead nurse and an empty bed.

XXXXXXXXXXX

JD sat on his bed, talking on the phone casually with Turk about the situation. "Yeah…one of the psycho guys escaped and killed a nurse here. They’re cutting the seminar short, but I think it’s because they don’t want the bad news about their experimental treatments getting into the papers."

"Dude, that sucks. Meet any cute chicks up there?"

JD sighed. "No, C-bear. Well, there was this really interesting girl who was really a man, but had really great legs…"

"Dude. You’re freaking me out."

"Sorry, chocolate bear. How’s Carla and Elliot?"

"Elliot had this awful date, dude…she’s telling Carla all about it." Turk glanced over to Carla, who was rolling her eyes in agreement with something Elliot had said.

The look Carla was now giving up wasn’t one he wanted repeated.

"But Carla’s giving me that weird stink-eye thing her bro taught her last time he was up here," Turk replied.

JD heard a knock on his door and looked up. "I think Dr. Cox’s coming around to drag me to the bar anyway. I’ll catch ya later, C-bear."

"Later, V-bear."

Rising from the bed, JD shucked a brown, zip-up hoodie over his shoulders and threw his shoes on as the knocking grew more insistent.

"Just a minute, Dr. Cox. I want shoes on this time."

Hopping on one foot and trying to tie his shoe at the same time, JD opened the door absently.

"I’m so not drinking scotch tonight, Dr…"

JD didn’t get any further as his eyes grew wide over the needle that had been plunged into his neck. He reached up dazedly for it, but the sedative was already taking effect and his vision began to grow blurry.

He fought the unconsciousness as long as he could to look up into a calm, pale face with brown eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but only a long groan came out. Terror slipped over his stomach, but the nausea began to fade as his movements slowed.

Then his vision faded to black at the edges and he struggled to stay awake. Still, the darkness clouded his vision as someone jerked him up by the collar and dragged him back into his room.

"Whazzat…" he groaned, but the blackness overtook his vision completely and his eyes slipped closed.

Perry debated for a few minutes in the next room before deciding that drinking alone was sucking for one, and that he was beginning to feel reluctantly bad for snapping at the kid all day. With a groan, he rose to his feet and drained his scotch. His buzz was fairly light, but he knew he was only a couple of drinks away from having a good, light-headed feeling in his head.

He knocked on the kid’s door, shuffling his feet in irritation. "Newbie, don’t you remember what happened the last time I had to wait behind your door? The huffing and puffing still applies. I don’t care if you’re wearing footie pajamas this time around, get your ass to the door."

"I’ll be out in a minute!" the high-pitched voice answered.

Perry frowned. The voice had sounded thick, and a little hesitant. He shrugged and chucked it up to the fact he might’ve just woken the kid up. Still standing there, that awful feeling of guilt gently tugged at his belly.

They had spent a long time on that bus. And the seminar hadn’t seemed to go easy on the kid.

Still, Perry stood his ground. The kid was constantly begging him for companionship or some girly thing like that; he’d be grateful either way.

Perry pounded on the door again. "A simple no would’ve sufficed, Lizzie!"

"I’ll be right out, I promise."

The voice still sounded thick, and a little hyper. Perry raised an eyebrow, preparing to walk away with the notion that JD really was gay.

Before he had more time to think about it though, the locks were turning in the door. Perry tapped his foot impatiently as the door opened.

A vaguely familiar face opened the door.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Eric."

"Look, can you just get JD?"

"He’s already here; you want to see him?"

Perry frowned, trying to place the familiar face. Perhaps another doctor? The man in front of him had clean-cut black hair and oddly-lit brown eyes. A little skinny, but wearing a t-shirt and blue jeans.

"Just get him to the door."

"He’s not able to get up right now, man. I can take a message."

"Alright, just get out of my way. I’ll get him."

The man stood to the side obligingly and in a near-amused fashion, which made Perry frown as he walked into the dimly lit hotel room.

JD was, indeed, asleep on the bed. Perry shook him roughly.

"Hey, Carol. Up, now." When JD didn’t stir, Perry frowned and turned him over a bit. His breathing was even and slow, and there was a small puncture wound in his neck. "What the hell did you do to him?"

As Perry started to turn around, fists already clenched, the man was coming near him with an odd look upon his face.

It clicked all at once as Perry found the face to be one of the patients. The escaped one, namely.

And he’d walked right into a trap by not recognizing the face in the first place.

"We should get you back to the ward," Perry started slowly, preparing to strike as he moved slowly.

"You can’t think I’m that stupid. I’m not crazy, and I’m not taking any more drugs. You are though."

Perry saw more then felt the sharp jab to his upper arm, realizing too late that he had been moving far too slowly in his effort to take the man by surprise. Still, Perry jerked the needle out and moved his hand towards the phone.

But the thin man had knocked him away from it. Perry managed a slow punch to the man’s face and sluggishly moved for the phone again. The fear was washed away under the sedative as his limbs grew heavy and his eyes threatened to shut.

"I’m not going back. I’m never going back."

Continues with Chapter 2