My Sweetest Autopsy

Pairings: JD/Cox, Jorliot, Turla

Warnings: DCA, torture (probably graphic), psychological trauma, involuntary drug use, and my usual nasties if I’ve forgotten any other warnings

Author’s Notes: Back to the short and sweet list of things I put before a chapter XD In any case, yeah. Done with the table, woot! I probably won’t be starting another one any time soon; I’ve other stories that I want to write and finish.

With that said, I am putting Silent Partner on another hiatus ::sighs:: The story itself really is becoming a chore to write, and that’s not just because of the subject matter within. Again, I will eventually finish it. I simply want to dedicate more time to Sweetest Autopsy and a new story that I’ve been discussing with Brenna and Mel (thanks again for listening, guys). I won’t say Heroine’s on hiatus or break, but more that I write on that one when the mood strikes. So far, the mood hasn’t struck for it yet.

Gah, long author’s notes. And finally, sorry it took so long to get this chapter out XD

XXXXXXXXX

Chapter Two

JD slipped Mr. Corman’s chart into its place, and heaved a sigh of relief as he half-flopped onto the nurse’s station.

"He’s going home; I’m free!" JD cried dramatically, wiping a hand over his brow.

Carla grinned at JD as she typed something out on the dingy keyboard by the computer. "What was it this time?"

JD snorted. "Ulcers. I think he’s just disappointed that they’re not as malignant as he’d have liked." He rolled his eyes and glanced around the ICU quickly. "Say, you seen Dr. Cox? I’ve been holding onto this tox screen for his patient for over an hour."

Carla shrugged. "He went down to the morgue around that time to ask Doug about something, Bambi. Jordan ripped him a new one right before about being home on time, so he probably cut out early."

"Figures," JD grumbled and searched for the correlating chart to the tox screen he held. "It’s just like him to dump work on everyone else for his crap."

Carla raised an eyebrow. "Issues, Bambi?"

JD turned up the chart finally and flipped it open. "Just tired of him being an ass. One of these days, someone’s gonna beat the crap out of him." JD flipped it closed with one hand (mostly because he thought it looked cool) and shrugged. "I might laugh and offer them a drink."

Carla grinned at that. "You’d be lost without him, Bambi." She patted his shoulder. "And you know it."

JD muttered something (knowing better than to say it within Carla’s earshot) and stalked off, mostly because he knew she was right.

XXXXXXXXX

It was the rain that woke him first, and that was only because Perry had never been able to sleep when it was raining. He didn’t open his eyes right away, due to the pounding in his skull. It was centered over three different places, but mostly over the spot above his left ear. He groaned as he listened to the steady thrum of the raindrops falling on the roof.

Perry could feel the matted hair that indicated dried blood along his ear, and reached a hand up to touch it. Fear settled in slowly when his hand didn’t rise but a few inches before it stopped short, and he felt something tighten around his wrist. He opened his eyes immediately, despite the pounding in his head.

It was dark, wherever he was, and a clang in the darkness as he moved his wrist made him jump. He was sitting up at the very least, but both of his hands were chained to a sturdy, metal object.

Perry slid his fingers over it, and identified it as a curved metal pipe, most likely beneath a sink. He raised his hands again, but only the metal clinking and a few inches were obtained. He turned his head sharply in the dark room to find a window, only to find a small, dirty one that he could barely see.

It was the sharp turning of his head that made his chest seize for a split second. Perry couldn’t be sure because of his throbbing head injury, but his reaction time was slow, and a bit sluggish. Given that he was chained to a drain of some kind, that also seemed to indicate that drugs might have been involved as well.

Water slid over his wrists from the leaky piping, and Perry frowned. That’d cause chafing sooner or later. The only real thought that had begun processing at this point was the need to escape.

Not knowing if anyone was in the room with him, Perry quietly grabbed what he could of the links on his wrists, and began to pull. He grimaced as pain shot through his arms and the links tightened in warning around his wrists. He continued to pull, and propped his feet against the floor.

Perry felt his toes connect with something hard, but not metal. Using his sneakers as leverage, he started pulling again. The ache only intensified, and the handcuffs tightened impossibly over his skin. A real wince came over his face instead of the grimace, and he squeezed his eyes shut before he reared back.

Jerking as hard as he could, Perry yanked at the pipe. It didn’t budge.

"Pull all you want. The plumbing in this place is pretty secure."

Perry tried to whirl, but only succeeded in hurting his wrists more. The voice was calm and languid, but so horribly familiar that Perry stiffened as the light flipped on.

The room became clear now. He was in a small kitchen, and the one window he’d seen had been over a sink which he was still chained too. In clear view, a small, dirty table was in the middle of the room. A refrigerator was just barely out of his leg’s reach, and if there was a stove, Perry couldn’t see it.

Perry reluctantly turned his eyes to his captor. "Nervous guy?"

Doug looked at him, thoughts flowing slowly through his head as he pulled a chair out from the table.

"That’s not my name," Doug replied with a frown.

"You are going to regret all three seconds of your life when I get out of here," Perry growled at him angrily. "What the hell do you think you’re doing? Are you insane? Someone’s going to know I’m gone, and they’re going to know you did it, Pee Pants."

Doug felt something shiver inside of him at the furiously red face of Dr. Cox. It made him feel a bit nervous all over again, until a rational voice in Doug’s mind pointed out that he had planned this. He knew what he was doing.

And he wasn’t "Nervous Guy" anymore.

The rhythmic clanging of the handcuffs brought Doug from his haze, and he jumped as his eyes fell back on Perry.

"You don’t know that," Doug replied simply, and headed out of the room into a small room to the side.

Perry could hear running water, but then Doug’s voice floated out again, more calm than he could ever recall hearing it.

"I know exactly what I’m doing. I already called your house. I talked to some woman with an accent that sounded like she weighed about three-hundred pounds and comes complete with an awful name. I told her you weren’t coming home tonight. She said she’d tell your ex-wife."

Perry swallowed hard. He was off for the next two days, but surely someone would try to page him. "I have a job, you know."

"I talked to Kelso. He thinks you’re having personal problems that you didn’t want to talk about. He let you off for the week."

Christ…what the hell is going on? Perry jerked on the cuffs again, and propped his feet against the cabinet to pull hard again. The pipe still didn’t budge, and his wrists screamed at him to stop. He swore he could feel bone sliding upon bone as they stretched beyond their capacity.

"You’re only going to break your wrists doing that," Doug said, as if it the notion were obvious. "And that’s just silly. Though you’re free to continue if you so choose."

"Pee Pants, if you don’t let me out of here in the next five minutes, I’m-"

Doug swept in front of him suddenly, and Perry cursed himself for not listening more closely for returning footsteps.

"My name’s not Pee Pants," Doug said, and his voice held a new, darker quality that had Perry stiffening. Doug stood again, and pulled something from a drawer.

Perry heard the familiar snap of latex gloves. "What are you doing?"

Doug didn’t answer right away as he moved to a bag that was sitting on a chair that Perry couldn’t see. He rummaged in it, and was still fiddling when he started to talk again.

"You know, when I was in high school, I was always the dork."

"Big surprise there."

"But not the cool kind of dork like Dr. Dorian is," Doug went on, as if ignoring the insult. "Dorian’s your golden boy, your go-to guy."

"He’s a good doctor, nervous guy."

"But I was always just as smart as him!" Doug shouted, raising his voice for the first time. He struggled to control his breathing as his gloved hand wrapped around a syringe. He set it on the table. "I always had grades that were just as good," he went on, his voice calm again.

Doug knew he had to stay calm. The minute he gave the upper hand back to Cox, this was over. And Doug realized with both fear and excitement that this couldn’t be over yet. It was far too soon for it to be over, and Cox didn’t deserve for this to end quickly.

"What’s the point of your diatribe, nervous guy?" Perry couldn’t see what Doug was lying out on the table, but he knew he didn’t like it. He started silently trying to pull his wrists free again, even though he knew it’d do little good. He still had to try.

"Anyway, I was coming out of history class. You know the jock-kind of guys, right?" Doug gave him a look that was almost pitying, but the excitement in his pale, thin face was palpable.

Perry didn’t like it.

"Hell, you probably were one," Doug muttered in disgust. "So coming out of history, one of them threw me into a locker and wanted me to do his history project for him."

Perry looked up as Doug rounded the small table and looked at him witheringly.

"If you try to kick me, I’ll break them," Doug said, nodding to his legs. Still, Doug approached him from behind so that it was impossible for Perry to turn and defend himself.

Perry stiffened when he felt Doug tying a rubber tube around his slightly-bent elbow.

"But I didn’t want to do it for him. I never did that kind of stuff for free. And he was a total jar-head," Doug kept going, and tapped the glass of the syringe just like he’d practiced doing over and over before the first day of his internship. "So he and his jock friends tied me to a toilet, and started pouring water down my throat. I was okay for the first few minutes, but then I started choking on it."

Perry saw the flash of a syringe and jerked his arms away.

Doug pulled back with an impatient sigh. "You’ll want the sedative, Perry."

"Don’t call me that, pee pants."

Doug sighed wearily. "They used to call me that too." He grabbed a hold of Perry’s arm, and kept it still with a surprisingly strong grip that startled the older man. The needle slid into flesh, finding a vein with perfection. "Because after being tied to the toilet with water shoved down my throat for an hour, I had to go. And I couldn’t help it." Doug threw the needle away and stood again. "And they left me on that commode for the rest of the day with the door open."

"I didn’t do that to you," Perry pointed out, and hated how slurred his voice suddenly sounded. His vision flashed at the edges, and he thought he heard a low rumble somewhere. The rain was a low hum in his head now, and he turned his head sluggishly up. "I treated you the way you deserved."

Doug shook his head and smiled brightly at him as he plucked something from the table. "Oh no, you didn’t. I placed perfect IV’s all day my first day. I had a couple of bad patients; that’s why they died. And golden-boy Dorian couldn’t get it right for hours." Doug knelt in front of him.

Perry struggled to focus on the blurry shape in front of him, and jerked when he saw the bleary outline of a scalpel.

"What are you doing to do, Nervous guy?"

Doug shook his head. "I’m not that guy any longer." He twiddled the scalpel in his fingers and tapped it against Perry’s arm. "I’m not nervous anymore."

"Think about what you’re doing…" Perry struggled to find the name for this kid in his head, but nothing came. His eyes fell to Doug’s shirt and he leaned his head forward to squint at the nametag. "Doug?"

Doug snorted. "I’d forgotten that jocks could read." He tapped the sharp instrument against Perry’s face as he ripped his nametag off and flung it across the room. "What’s my last name?"

Perry tried desperately to turn up the name, but nothing came to his drugged mind. "I don’t know, Doug."

Doug shrugged. "More’s the pity." He clicked the scalpel against his teeth. "Well, for you anyway."

Perry could feel consciousness slipping away bit by bit; whatever sedative Doug had given him was made to knock people out. The lights grew brighter in the room, and Doug’s voice was calm and collected as Perry felt real terror flash through his mind.

Perry struggled to kick his feet out at Doug’s shady form, edges of his vision blacking out and the low rumbling still a roar in his ear.

"See, you’re the nervous guy now. I’m not afraid of you anymore."

XXXXXXXXX

JD punched his time card and headed to the locker room. He was almost there when he felt a hand jerk at his scrubs top.

"DJ," a voice nipped sharply.

"God, for the last time, its JD," JD grumbled impatiently as he turned, but stopped when he met Jordan’s angry face. "Um…I didn’t do it?"

Jordan rolled her eyes. "Of course you didn’t, baby-spice. Have you seen Perry?"

JD frowned. "No, he cut out early to go home, I heard."

Jordan snorted. "That’d be the mature thing to do. No, he called our nanny to say he wouldn’t be home tonight. I thought you’d know where he went."

"What makes you think I’d know?"

"Please, DJ," Jordan scoffed. "Perry’s been trailing after your heels for years. Now do you know where he is?"

"No," JD replied again, this time a bit more firmly than he actually felt. He couldn’t really help it; Jordan was scary when she was mad.

And Jordan was even scarier when mad and held a five-year-old on her hip.

"I really don’t know," JD replied again more timidly. "I was just leaving."

Jordan raised an eyebrow. "You’re free tonight?"

"Um…kind of…"

"I don’t guess you’d be as so kind to watch Jack since your boy-toy won’t step up and take care of his kid?"

"But I…"

"Oh, thanks, DJ," Jordan retorted breezily without letting him finish. She handed him Jack and a baby bag. "You’re a true lifesaver." She sped off before JD could protest.

If nothing else, DJ would be mad enough to spit nails at Per-bear, and that always provided endless funsies.

Jack looked at JD owlishly and suspiciously, determined not to miss his mother. He was old enough to know that crying when your mother left was for babies. Still, he peered at JD skeptically. Vague memories said something about this person, but he could only pull the name Carol.

"So, just you and me, big guy," JD muttered. "Great." He was going to kill Dr. Cox.

"Carol?" Jack tried, and when JD turned his head, he nodded.

"Jeez," JD muttered, and knocked his head against the wall. "So…you like Spongebob?"

Jack nodded vigorously.

JD sighed and settled Jack down on the floor to walk on his own. "Let’s go then."

XXXXXXXX

The first thought that waded through the drugged fuzziness of Perry’s mind was that it was still night time. The next conscious thought was that he hurt.

Perry opened his eyes slowly and lazily, struggling to work feeling back into his aching body. His position in the floor hadn’t leant itself much to sleeping, and his wrists felt a bit numb in the fingertips. Perry clenched and unclenched his hands, grimacing as water and metal rubbed against his skin.

Even through the darkness, Perry knew that it wasn’t water that was on his arms. It was too thick, and water didn’t turn to a gooey consistency when it dried. But in the darkness, Perry couldn’t see what was on his arms.

His wrists gave a twinge of ache and a sharp sting of pain. Perry felt fear flash through him again; Doug hadn’t sliced his wrists clean open, had he?

Since blood wasn’t squirting everywhere and pouring into the floor, Perry breathed a sigh of relief. His stomach shook and cramped in hunger, and his throat was now inexplicably dry.

Perry looked around the dark kitchen hazily, but didn’t see much. He finally struggled to stand and try to crane his neck towards the faucet. His arms groaned as he stretched and finally nosed the water on.

Unfortunately, that increased the water that dripped to his wrists, and stung whatever wounds were there.

Perry peered out the dingy window. The edges of the sky were just barely tinged a paler blue then the rest of the darkness. He tipped his head forward, and drank the tepid water that tasted of minerals. Perry rolled his eyes, but water beat dehydration.

Nosing the water off again, Perry fell back to the floor and realized his breathing had already grown hard and shallow again.

Slowly, the sun began to creep up. The minutes passed on forever until the room was light enough for Perry to take a look to his arms.

The cuts to his wrists were shallow at best, but had been made without the handcuffs. That meant the sedative had, indeed, knocked him out for an indeterminable amount of time.

Perry frowned at the shallow marks; if Doug had wanted to kill him, he’d have done it then. The resultant thought was that Doug didn’t, in fact, want to kill him.

Unfortunately, the effect of that thought was the realization that Doug wanted to toy with him. And that thought was infinitely worse than dying for some reason.

Sighing hard and struggling to stay calm, Perry jerked at the handcuffs. He sighed and looked away from his arms. They were covered in dried, coagulated blood. The rest of his skin stung, and that meant there were more cuts along the skin that he wasn’t ready to look at yet.

Perry’s eyes fell to the floor, and he realized his shoes had been removed. And now his feet were cuffed together too.

Taking his eyes away from the sight (mostly because it gave him the sense that he really didn’t have any control in this), Perry finally inspected the garish wounds on his forearms. He still wore his shirt, though it was stained and spotted with blood.

Perry sighed hard and leaned his head against the wooden cabinet that supported the sink. Water dripped still onto his wrists, stinging the newer wounds there and making it impossible for some of them to dry properly.

Not to mention there was no telling how clean the water was.

Perry looked up to the dingy ceiling, and wondered how much longer he had to figure a way out before Doug came back.

XXXXXXXX

Author’s Notes: I promise the chapters will get longer as we go along. I’m just setting the stage; this chapter isn’t as graphic or torturous as I usually get (as most of you know XD) but it will be picking up. Fair warning, is all. I don’t want anyone getting into this story if this sort of thing bugs them out.

Okay, off to write the first chapter of the fantasy!story that I’ve been toiling with. ::grins:: Hope you enjoyed!

Reviewer's Corner:

bug0112: It's going to be really scary Doug XD You know how I write; come on... ::grins:: Just joking. Glad you enjoyed; here's the update!

aislinnrae: Thanks! If you like the idea of psycho!Doug, you should check out Samu's "His Calm". This story is a rabid plot love bunny of that one XD The argument between JD and Cox was more of a reason for JDA later ::winks:: I'm trying to have both, but the story is, of course, primarily DCA because I love torturing the man so... ::groans:: I'm a sick, sick woman...and there will be plenty of evil!Doug XD lol, thanks! I appreciate the compliments ::grins:: I'm glad you're enjoying; here's the update!

The pills go in your mouth: lol, thanks! Here's the next chapter ::grins:: Not my usual graphic torture (yet) but I didn't want to jump into it so hard like I did with the Control arc ::grins:: Glad you're enjoying; here's the update!