AN: So, I've been out of the loop for a while. "On hiatus," if you must label my absence. And I'm sorry. I've been making up for it, I promise! I've been writing as much as I can, whenever I can, whatever I can. I just...have nothing to show for it except this. Aaaaaand a new chapter of My Soul to Take...which should be up soon...ish.

Wow. I aaaaaam failure. But enjoy this, as much of it as there is (which isn't much, sorry to disappoint).

Disclaimer: I do not own the television show Scrubs. I do not own the characters of the television show Scrubs.

Heart in the Wrong Place

JD grunts as his back makes contact with the gravel of the hospital parking lot, the sound of scuffling tennis shoes on the basketball court ceasing.

" 'Nilla Bear!" Turk's concerned voice echoes in his ears as he attempts to sit up. Three faces appear above him—Turk, the Todd, and some intern that Elliot has seen fit to sleep with this week.

What's his name again? Kyle? Keagan?

"Doctor Dorian? Are you all right?" the intern asks shakily, his eyes wide with worry.

"I'm fine, Ken," JD mutters, slowly making his way to his feet.

"It's Keith..."

"Yeah. That's what I said."

"V-Bear? You feeling okay?" Turk takes hold of JD's upper arm, helping him up the rest of the way. He brushes bits of gravel from his friend's back.

"I feel fine, SCB," JD sighs, patting down his scrubs pants. "You guys act like I'm made of glass or something."

"J-Dawg, the Todd can appreciate the tough front. But your transplant was only a few months ago. Even a well-chisled body needs rest after that kind of trauma." There is a moment of awkward silence before the Todd bobs his head with that silly lip quirk and raises both hands in the air. "Recuperation fives!"

JD and Turk roll their eyes but raise their hands as well, receiving bone-shattering high fives. The Todd snaps his fingers and nods with satisfaction.

"Seriously, JD," Turk says, giving his friend a patient look. "Doctor Cox told us you're supposed to be taking it easy."

"Under penalty of extreme bodily harm," the intern gulps, shifting nervously.

"Suck it up, Kurt," JD demands, wondering what in the world Elliot sees in him.

"It's Keith."

"Whatever. The point is Doctor Cox doesn't speak for me. I can make my own—"


All four men spin on their heels to find Perry Cox stomping his way down the hospital ramp and giving them a very nasty look. Turk, the Todd, and Keith take a step back, but JD stands his ground, crossing his arms. The older doctor continues until he is right in JD's face, running his thumb over his nose and mirroring the young man's stance.

"What is it you think you're doing?"

JD glances up at the hoop nonchalantly and raises his eyebrows. "Why, Perry, I think it's kind of obvious what I'm doing. I'm playing a game of basketball with my friends."

The muscles in Perry's neck bulge, his face turning red as he grits his teeth. "Basketball?"

"Yeah, you know, the sport where a bunch of guys try to get that orange, bouncy ball into the net over there. Bas-ket-ball."

The older man's lips spread thinly over his bared teeth, creating a sadistic grin. To any outsider it might seem like a threat, but JD has seen it far too many times to know better.

"Oh, you mean the sport that unnecessarily overexerts you and can cause your heart to explode all over the inside of your ribcage. That sport."

"Yes, that sport," JD says with annoyance, uncrossing his arms and starting to turn away. "Now, if you'll excuse us, you're interrupting our game."

Perry grabs hold of the young man's arm, keeping a firm grip on it.

"Susan, you cannot be serious. You're a doctor. You know you shouldn't be playing sports so soon after—"

"It's been four months, Perry!" JD exclaims, yanking his arm out of the other's hand. "I think I know my own body, thank you."

"Rejection can occur anytime within the first six months, genius!" Perry argues. "Just because you think you're feeling fine doesn't mean everything's fine in there." He gestures to JD's chest. "Have we forgotten already that your body can reject your heart without any symptoms? That we might not know anything's wrong until it's too late?"

"I know how to take care of myself!" the younger doctor shouts in frustration. "Christ! Why do you treat me like a fucking kid?"

"I'm not treating you like a kid. I'm treating you like a man who had his heart replaced a few months ago!" Perry yells back, his face distorted in both anger and worry.

"Then treat me like a man and stop checking up on me every two seconds!"

"I'm not checking up on you, God damn it!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! I came to give you these—" Perry whips out a bottle of immunosuppressants. "—because you left them at the nurses station!"

JD frowns and snatches the pills from the other's hand. " could have just given them to me instead of making a big deal out of it."

"JD," Perry sighs, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he steps forward and gently places a hand on the young man's chest, his other balling the fabric of JD's scrubs at the small of his back, "this is a big deal. Your life...our lives have changed forever. This isn't something that's just going to go away. This is real, and if we don't take care of it, one of us is going to be living a long time without the other."

JD stares at the older man hard, tears pricking the backs of his eyes and making them sting. "And what..." he starts, having to stop and swallow hard. "What if I can't do this? What if I can't do you?"

Perry leans his forehead against the young man's, letting the world around them fall away—the parking lot, the hospital, the on-lookers that will die a thousand deaths if they speak one word of this conversation to anyone else. "I'm not leaving you alone. Ever. We'll get through this, you and me. We'll make this work, I promise." JD takes in a shuddering breath and nods, shivering in the man's arms. "Now, please come inside so I don't have to kill Gandhi and these other idiots for letting you do this."

JD rolls his eyes but smiles, and Perry thinks it just may be the first real smile he's seen on the young man's face in a long time.

AN: Wow. I feel sort of...pathetic. Months-months-since I've written anything, and this is what I come up with. I beg your forgiveness. And I'm willing to make it up to anyone who is interested by possibly continuing... :P Later, Gators! Catch you all on the flip side. Hopefully in My Soul to Take!