Title: My Past, My Future
Pairing: J.D/Dr Cox. Coxian!
Warnings: Child Abuse, Non Consensual behaviour (refers to said child abuse), Pedophilia (including minor mentions of photography) and generally disturbing themes. Angst abound! At least at first. Also, first scrubs fic. So the characters may be a little green.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Poems are.
Summery: When J.D's uncle comes to town, the whole of the hospital is turned on its head. A story about comforting your past, facing your future and learning to trust those who mean the most to you with more than your life. And perhaps learning a thing or two about yourself (and those you thought you knew) along the way.
Authors Note: I don't why I had to write this. Blame the plot bunnies. But it just wouldn't leave me alone. This is the first of two parts. And, just for the record, child abuse is wrong. And illegal. See it? Report it!
This is my history
This is my tale
Laid out before me
In a long endless trail
It's a story of battles
A story of fears
It's a story of agony
Of laughter and tears
It's a story, in scars
It reads out like brail
All over my body
So injured and frail
I letting you see it
I'm, to you, as a book
So pick up your glasses
And come take a look
Trace all the lines
Each one holds a mystery
They each have a story
That makes up my history.
Part One: My Past.
The first time it happened, he was seven years old.
Before then, uncle Carl had simply been another uncle and his mother's only brother. They'd seen each other Christmas, Birthday's and a few other festive holidays such as Thanksgiving and Easter. J.D had always liked uncle Carl simply because he was one of the few people who had seemed more interested in J.D than in Dan. Dan, of course, had despised that fact and, for a while, J.D had been more than happy to lord it over him.
So when J.D was six and uncle Carl was forced to move back to Ohio in search of a job, J.D had been thrilled. The newfound geographical convenience had meant that he'd stoped seeing his uncle three to four times a year and started seeing him a couple of times a month. His mother, between marriages at this point in time, had jumped at the cheep babysitting opportunities and spent most weekends looking for "a decent man" and leaving her kids with her brother.
Uncle Carl favoured J.D so overtly that Dan spent most of his visits sulking in his room. Not that J.D had cared –he'd been thrilled for a chance to spend some alone time with his favourite uncle, the man J.D was beginning to see as a replacement figure for his drop-kick father.
So he hadn't noticed the sinister tone to their relationship until his uncle had hit him over the head with it. Hadn't noticed the appreciative looks, the lingering touches, the out-of-place and extravagant presents. Hadn't noticed the look in his uncle's eyes. After all, what did a six-almost-seven year old know of such things? All he knew was that finally, finally, someone paid more attention to his needs than to his spoilt older brother.
So when his uncle had first lead him into an empty bedroom shortly after his seventh birthday with the promise of a surprise, he'd gone willingly, happily, trustingly. And when his uncle had locked the door behind him, no fragment of foreboding had even crossed his mind –rather, he felt that if the door needed to be locked, the present must be really, really, good.
It wasn't until his uncle unzipped his pants and began to strip them off that J.D had begun to question the nature of his gift.
"Do you know what this is, John?"
J.D hesitated, knowing the word was usually taboo and wondering where his uncle was going. He decided to answer as clinically as possible.
"It's a penis, uncle Carl. All boys have one."
His uncle smiled, the motion slightly unsettling.
"Would you like to touch it?"
J.D wouldn't, not really. He may have been seven but even he knew that you didn't touch another person's parts. So, distinctly nervous now, he'd shaken his head.
"I would like you to touch it, John," uncle Carl purred, "Don't you see how swollen it is? It hurts. I need you to make it better. You can do that, can't you? I know your such a good boy."
J.D was seven. He'd never seen an erection in his life. So that first time, and only that once, he'd believed his uncle when he was told that he'd hurt himself. And sometimes you needed someone to make it better –whether by a band-aid or a kiss.
So he'd wrapped a tentative hand around it and had smoothed it up the length, diligently looking for wounds. He felt none and made to pull his hand away when his uncle grabbed it and forced it back. Forced it to repeat the action.
But uncle Carl hadn't listened. Hadn't released J.D's hand even when he began to struggle in earnest. Even when he began, to his own mortification, to cry. He hadn't released him until he'd let out a long, soft sigh and had… exploded was the only word J.D could use. Exploded whiteness all over J.D's hand.
Uncle Carl had sighed, finally releasing his hand.
"I feel much better," he informed his nephew calmly, as though nothing untoward had happened, "Thank you."
He'd ruffled J.D's hair and, relieved to be released, J.D had bolted as fast as he possibly could.
The next day, a school day, J.D had snuck a look at some of the year six biology books and tried to figure out what had happened. He learned what an erection was. And ejaculation. He also leaned that it followed stimulation and attraction or at least arousal.
He'd had to look all three words up, never having heard 'stimulation', 'attraction' or 'arousal' before in normal conversation.
Learning what stimulation and arousal was seemed bad enough. But neither compared to the implications of the word 'attraction'.
'Attractive quality; magnetic charm; fascination; allurement; enticement; a person or thing that draws, attracts, allures, or entices.'
J.D was only seven, but even he knew that being drawn to a child was probably not right. So when the next weekend rolled around and his uncle had invited him to follow him, he'd been smart enough to decline.
Unfortunately, he hadn't been strong enough to fight his uncle's insistence.
Carl had grabbed his wrist and dragged him into that bedroom. J.D had kicked up a storm, stubborn till the end, and had let out a single sharp cry for Dan before his uncle had silenced him with a hand over his mouth. Uncle Carl had managed, amidst struggling to pin J.D down, to pull down his pants and thus found a whole new way to keep J.D silent.
J.D had choked, pushing against his uncle's hips even as his uncle had used one hand to keep his jaws pried open and the other to hold his head in place as he plundered his mouth. When he'd finally exploded [ejaculated, the professional part of J.D provided helpfully], J.D had been forced to swallow lest he suffocate.
"Good boy," his uncle had crooned, paradoxically sweet.
"I'll tell on you!" J.D blurted furiously, brave and defiant but only seven. "I swear!"
"Like your mother will believe you?" Uncle Carl had mocked, "Like she'd care enough –notice enough –to even ask?"
J.D hadn't believed that. He had sworn that the moment he saw his mother, he'd tell her everything. But luck had been against him. That had been the night his mother had found what had turned out to be her next husband. And J.D's dried tears and soft pleas for his mother's attention had been brushed aside and attributed to another fight with Dan –which was, J.D was forced to admit, the usual cause.
His mother began to go out more, eager to spend time with her prospective next husband and J.D had resorted to other tactics. On the nights he knew his uncle was coming, he'd search the house thoroughly before hand and find a place to hide. He became very skilled at putting himself in awkward positions and accustomed to staying there for hours at a time –even to the extent of falling asleep. It was a skill learned in desperation, but a skill he'd kept. Even as an adult, J.D could sleep through anything and fit himself behind vending machines.
He uncle would look for him of course. Sometimes he'd look until the very last minute, when J.D's mother came home. To J.D's mingled confusion and relief, he never laid so much as a finger on Dan and would, instead, spend all his time searching for him. J.D's luck was fifty-fifty –half the time he escaped safely, the other half he didn't.
J.D's only saving grace was the fact that his uncle never penetrated him. Once, when J.D had been eight, he'd attempted it. He'd held J.D down, stripped him bare and positioned himself at his entrance –only to ejaculate the second the head of his penis touched flesh, not breaching the anus sphincter even a millimetre.
That had also been the first time his uncle had actually hit him, taking his anger and frustration on the only person he could. That was also when J.D, finding no solace with his mother, turned in desperation to his brother. Of course, the moment Dan realized J.D was trying to start a serious conversation, he'd laughed, mocked him and hadn't listened long enough for J.D to get past "I need to talk to you."
So J.D had kept quiet. It seemed to him that no one was willing to listen anyway. He'd treated any injuries himself and, every weekend, spent his time scouting for possibly hiding places.
But everything changed when his mother married.
Carl had less cause to mind them. His mother, no longer going out every night to find her perfect man, was content at home and J.D was suddenly given a new lease on life. It was as though everything in the world was suddenly brighter, like every moment was wonderful.
The result was his eccentricity. He was so confident in this new world but this bizarre arrogance was tempered by a sharp sense of vulnerability and insecurity. He was his own person –having been forced to be otherwise made him refuse to bow to anyone's expectations. And if he enjoyed playing with dolls or reading fantasy books well, he was going to do so. And the despair others felt at his feminine behavioural quirks only gave him a way to rebel against authority and, thus, establish his own independence. Apart from anything his uncle had said or done.
Of course, when the marriage fell apart two years later, the cycle started all over again. His mother going out every weekend, his uncle visiting and the endless hiding. By then, J.D was nearly ten and had grown out of most of the best hiding places. Which forced him to become more creative and tipped the scales in his uncle's favour. The respite his mother's marriage had granted him had also gifted him with an endurable spark and no matter how many times his uncle found him he fought tooth and nail. To the extent that, two thirds of the time, his uncle was forced to use some form of restraint.
He dealt by pretending it wasn't happening, by drifting off. Over time, he found himself doing this more often and his imagination became honed to the point that even something small could trigger a daydream –which rapidly became more eccentric as he grew older. The abuse also altered his perspective on life and when he wasn't the geek-y feminine young boy who drew horses with swords on their heads [read: unicorns] he could be remarkably profound, even if it was only in his internal monologue.
He also began to keep a journal. He'd decided that, if no one listened to him, that he'd write all his feelings out. It was a little akin to sucking out the poison and, because J.D knew he couldn't pretend it wasn't happening forever, it forced him to confront what was happening. It was an exhausting and traumatic thing to do but J.D always felt better afterwards –as though having written documentation of what happened to him could smooth away his past.
He became very skilled at dealing with any injuries –they ranged from cracked lips to pressure bruises to sprains –and in the process of researching and treating himself (as well as educating himself on the warning signs of a serious injury) J.D found his calling. He decided he wanted to be a doctor. Then he could help those that were hurt and, if he knew what to look for, stop it from happening again.
His mother married for a third time a year and a half later and thus J.D was granted another respite. Just as desperate to appreciate it, J.D had also realized that it wouldn't last. He needed something to ensure his freedom.
Escaping home would do it. Escaping home as early as he could meant getting into a college. And college required good grades. So, clearly, the answer to J.D's problem was to do as well as he could at school
The resulting image this created only further cast him as a nerd but it also made him one of the top students at his school. He didn't have many friends; his older brother beat him up after school and teased him at home; his mother was constantly busy and his father absent. But he didn't have an uncle who sexually molested him over every weekend either so, all in all, J.D really couldn't complain.
By the time he was fourteen, he had his personality down pat. He was a almost-man who could sleep through the apocalypse, fit behind vending machines, read a fantasy novel through in a day, daydreamed constantly, wrote in a journal and fell about himself when it came to girls. It was also the year his respite ended.
Things were only slightly better. J.D was larger now and though his uncle hadn't seemed to have lost interest, J.D was harder to catch and hold. And to keep quiet. Most of the time, Uncle Carl would simply strip them both down, tie J.D to the bed, take some photographs, wank slowly at the image his nephew presented, then come all over J.D before taking more photographs. It was uncomfortable, sticky and degrading but it could have been worse. His uncle never tried to rape him (probably half afraid he wouldn't be capable of it) and his 'don't say a word' pre-emptive beatings could have been far more serious than they were. J.D had learned by then to be thankful for even the smallest of mercies.
His mother's forth marriage bought him another three years and while Dan bitched about her lack of restraint, J.D found it one of the few things he loved about her. By the time it ended, J.D was eighteen and had been accepted into the College of William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia. Which was far enough away from his uncle to satisfy him.
He'd packed everything he had the moment he graduated and, at the graduation party, had voluntarily drawn his uncle aside.
"If you ever come near me again," he'd told his uncle, "Ever lay a hand on me again, I will make you regret it. I hope you die and rot in hell, you child molesting bastard."
It was the hardest thing he'd ever said, and harshly out of character. Though it did spark a very in-character moment wherein he imagined his uncle surrounded by brimstone and hellfire, screaming in agony for all eternity.
So he'd gone to collage. Awkward, independent and utterly eccentric. Knowing nothing about medicine, life outside Ohio or the world as a whole. He'd stumbled into Oz and, there, had found salvation.
He'd met Chris Turk.
Meeting Turk had singled the start of a new era. An era where J.D could drop the name "John" altogether, the name his uncle whispered in rapture. An era where J.D was born and his nerdy, quirky personality taken as part of the package. It signalled a point in time where family could be shoved aside and forgotten. A time where J.D knew he never had to be alone with his uncle again.
And though Turk teased him for his girlish habits, those were parts of his personality that J.D had worked hard for and, thus, was unwilling to give up. He also rebelled against everything his uncle had represented. Rather than dress down and make himself unattractive to avoid notice and attention, J.D took a sort of pride in his appearance that was usually stereotypical of females. His past effected him in other ways –J.D hated being restrained. Also, when he found himself as attracted to boys as girls, he shoved the feelings away.
Though he knew homosexuality was wildly accepted and, in itself, harmless, he worried uneasily what it said about his past and what his uncle had done to him. The thought of being with another man would force those feelings rushing back and, just as attracted to girls, J.D took the easier road and focused on them. Though it was difficult to have a very long relationship with someone whom he couldn't share his whole self with, J.D persevered and worked hard to make sure that his insecurities and those of his partner didn't feed off each other –often with mingled success.
He never breathed a word about his uncle to anyone. He bitched about his family to Turk and, really, that got him sympathy enough. He only did that because he couldn't say nothing about his past and, as he and Turk struggled through med school together, he knew Turk deserved some sort of trust from him.
Those years were the best of J.D's life. He saw his uncle only on the rare occasions he visited his family and, even then, they hardly said two words to each other. When he and Turk finally got jobs at Sacred Heart Hospital so many years had past that J.D had actually felt like he'd put the past behind him. Ignoring any homosexual urges had become easier over time, he was finally a doctor after what seemed like eons of dreaming, he had the best man on earth as his friend and they were not only living but working together at the hospital.
And there he met Dr Cox.
The guy insulted him outright, had no trouble calling J.D girl names to his face, degraded him constantly and yet, paradoxically, was there for J.D the few times he actually needed him. If J.D's uncle had a polar opposite, it was Dr Cox. Cox was abrasive, rude and said exactly what he meant to say. There was no subtext there, no sweet but empty praise. Whatever you got out of the guy had to be earned and earned honestly.
His uncle had spent his life deceiving everyone into believing he was a decent guy. Dr Cox spent his life doing exactly the opposite.
And, rather suddenly, it became a hell of a lot harder to ignore those traitorous urges.
But ignore them he had, focusing all his attention on Elliot to the extent that their relationship suffered greatly for it –going through a harsh roller coaster of ups and downs wherein they danced around each other half the time and were 'just friends' the other half. But despite this, for a good while, things had been fine.
For a while.
Who are you, but the sum of your memories?
"Hey little brother!"
J.D sighed, leaning back into his coach and grimacing at his phone.
"Hey Dan. What's up?"
"Love the enthusiasm there, dude," Dan laughed, carefree as always, "How've you been? Not seen you for a while. You never visit us anymore. I'm starting to think you don't like me! I might just have to come to you."
"I saw you not that long ago!" J.D protested, "How's mum?"
"Looking for guy number… what're we up to again?"
A knock sounded at the door.
"Six, I think," J.D returned, "Seven if you count Jim. Hey, wait a sec, would you? Someone's at the door."
J.D answered it, frowning to find the doorway empty.
"Rowdy?" he called, wondering if he'd managed to get out again. The silly mischievous dog!
Dan jumped him happily, smoothly closing his mobile phone as he did so. J.D squirmed in the hug, the position jarring his ribs, and smiled awkwardly.
"Hey Dan." He managed.
"Hey squirt!" Dan returned, finally releasing his hold, "We were having a family luncheon the other day and I thought I'd pop up and see you for a spell. And hey! Look who I brought!"
Dan stepped aside, and J.D felt his heart still.
Leaning calmly against the corridor, looking completely at ease, was uncle Carl.
"Hello John," uncle Carl greeted, "I've missed seeing you."
"I knew you'd be surprised!" Dan crowed, misinterpreting his brother's expression, "I remember how close you were to Carl when we were kids so when we got a-talking about you, I decided to bring him along. I know, I know. My brilliance holds no bounds!"
"There's not enough room for the both of you," J.D pointed out as a response, feeling numb and desperate all at once.
"Nonsense!" Dan argued. "Plenty of space. I'll just go get myself comfy, shall I?"
Hefting up his duffle bag, he barrelled past J.D and went about doing just that.
"What the hell do you want?" J.D asked his uncle furiously, making sure to keep his voice down, "Why the hell did you come?"
"To see you, of course," Carl replied smoothly, his eyes gliding up and down J.D's body in a manner that made him feel physically ill, "You're looking… very… well."
"And the adage 'look but don't touch' has never been applied so firmly," J.D shot back, apparently having been more influenced by Dr Cox than he thought. "I'm not seven years old anymore."
"No," Carl agreed, eyes dark, "I can certainly see that."
"You're not staying here," J.D informed him sharply and suddenly, "I don't care what you tell my brother. Make something up. Just get the hell out of my apartment and out of my life."
His uncle merely raised a brow, apparently unintimidated. J.D, feeling on the verge of a breakdown, made some half-lame excuse to Dan about his pager going off and fled to the hospital –a pathetic retreat but one he felt was the only option he had left.
"Bambi?" Carla greeted, looking puzzled to see him, "Isn't this your day off?"
"My brother Dan's popped by again," J.D explained, shoulder's tense, "Along with… with my uncle Carl."
"I didn't know you had an uncle Carl," Carla marvelled, "You've never mentioned him. But that doesn't explain why you're here. I know you don't always get on with your brother, J.D, but he is your family. You should be spending your day off with him."
J.D said nothing, afraid that whatever he said might reveal the true source of the problem. And he hadn't lasted all this time to slip up now. So he simply shrugged his shoulders and went to hide in the lounge, idly flicking through the channels.
"Hey v-bear!" Turk greeted, falling gracefully next to him on the couch, "Carla told me you were here. What's this I hear about another uncle? I thought you only had the one?"
J.D shrugged, once again uncertain how to answer.
"It's going to be cramped at the apartment!" Turk noted, wincing, "But we'll deal."
"My uncle won't be staying," J.D replied, trying to sound as casual as possible, "I'm pretty sure he'll be leaving soon. He just stopped by to say hi."
"He flew hundreds of miles to say hi?" Turk echoed doubtfully, raising a brow.
"I don't really get on with my uncle," J.D admitted at last. "He has no reason to stay."
"Well that's nothing new," Turk pointed out, "You don't get on with any of the members of your family. Even Dan! Though I think that's gotten a little better since he's cleaned himself up. Perhaps your uncle's looking for the same thing? A fresh start."
Not as long as J.D lived and breathed.
Turks pager went off.
"Damn." He muttered, "Sorry man. Wanna ride to the nurse's station?"
J.D brightened, never one to turn down a free piggyback ride. He clambered at the chance –both figuratively and metaphorically.
"Belinda," A voice cut in when they reached it, a voice J.D knew all too well, "I suppose its faaar too much to ask that I escape your presence for a single day? I mean, gosh Newbie I know you must miss your boyfriend something fierce while he's away but, darn it, you've got to pull yourself together girl."
"Hey Dr Cox," J.D greeted, dismounting, "Pleasure as always."
"Hey! Is that him? Your uncle? Talking to Carla?"
J.D spun around so fast he nearly tripped. But Turk was right. Chatting to Carla was his brother, Dan and, beside him, Carl. Even as he watched, his uncle said something that made Carla laugh and nod.
J.D felt his blood boil.
"John!" Carl called, spotting him, "There you are! I didn't come all this way to have you work the whole week. And Dan suggested we come keep you company."
"May I also say that you have delightful friends?" Carl continued, grinning sardonically, "Why that Carla is divine. Yours?"
"Mine!" Turk protested at once.
"I though I made myself clear?" J.D asked of his uncle, struggling not to raise his voice.
"But I'm family," Carl protested, "Come here, give me a hug. It'll be alright."
Uncle Carl had pulled him into one before J.D had time to protest. J.D, gritting his teeth, stood as stiffly as possible, refusing to return the hug. His endurance broke, however, when he uncle pulled himself flush against his nephew and allowed him to feel his erection against his hip.
J.D shoved him away so forcefully they both stumbled slightly.
"Go to hell!"
With that, J.D stormed off.
Sticks and stones will break your bones, but words will break your heart.
The rest of the day was agony.
Being his usual self, Carl had managed to convince almost everyone that he was a perfectly nice man and his only fault was a harmless fight he and J.D had had years ago.
As such, J.D spent the day hounded by Carla, questioned by Turk and stalked by Dan and his uncle in turns. By nightfall, he was frazzled, exhausted but resolute. There was no way in hell he was returning home while his uncle was there.
Turk had spent an hour protesting this, even ringing him once he'd arrived home, assuring J.D that there was plenty of room.
"Is Carl there?"
"Well yeah, but –"
And he'd hung up.
He'd passed Dr Cox on his way to the on call room and while the elder doctor had mocked his sensibilities, he'd said nothing about Carl himself either way. Oddly thankful not to be hounded from at least one corner, J.D chose a bunk and, eventually, managed to get some sleep.
He dreamt of cameras flashing, sweaty palms pressed to silence lips, and ropes digging harshly into skin.
Authors Note: The poem is mine. The first quote is part of a poem:
"Yesterday is extinct.
Without yesterday, today has no meaning.
Who are you if forgotten?
Who are you but the sum of your memories?"
By Cecilia Dart-Thornton. The second quote I'm sure you all recognise and, as I don't know the author, won't reference. This is my first scrubs fic so please comment and let me know how I did with the characters. Typical me -first forage into a fanfic and I write angst. To my Harry Potter fans, I'm still writing. I'm just learning third year uni is a biatch as well. To those who liked this, second part comming soon! Read and review!