ATC My Fallen Idol

UPDATE 5/13/2007: I changed a few things, after watching this ep again and great feedback from veteran Scrubs writers. Thanks to all who've reviewed! You rawk!

JD... he called him "JD."

Dr. Dorian was always shocked on those exceedingly rare moments when his attending physician-turned-colleague Dr. Perry Cox called him by his real nickname. Mildred. Nancy. Mabel. Dorothy.

It was a foregone conclusion that he, his best friend Dr. Christopher Turk and their friend Dr. Elliot Reid would forever be Random Girl's Name, Gandhi and Barbie, respectively.

And tonight he was called JD. Not Newbie. Not Beyonce. JD.

Perry came up behind him and said in a low voice, "JD. Thanks." And then he gripped his shoulder in a loving pat and squeeze, and walked away.

JD knew that over the five years of his acquaintance with Dr. Cox, that he'd been emotionally, mentally, physically and psychologically abused by the older man. Yet he kept going back to him, kept obsessing on the day when the man would accept him not only as a colleague, which he begrudgingly did when JD and his friends left residency behind, but as a friend.

And he'd said, "My friend" to him earlier. "My friend. JD. Thanks."

The words kept roiling around in JD's mind as the gang from the hospital shared some downtime at their favorite bar. Dr. Cox had broken out of the deep-blue funk he'd worked himself into after the unforeseen deaths of three patients, that he'd been taking very hard and very personally.

JD knew it was his own pep talk that had brought Dr. Cox around, and now they were all together, drinking, carousing, laughing, hugging and welcoming Perry back into the fold.

What JD found disturbing in the midst of this elation was that his body, for some reason he couldn't fathom, had reacted instinctively to the mouth so close, the touch on the shoulder.

He couldn't think about that. He stayed as he was, facing the bar, his friends, colleagues and bosses rambunctious behind him. He didn't want the others to see him, especially the look on his face. And certainly not how he was reacting to the touch of another man.

Turk would see it in his eyes instantly. There was nothing he could hide from his best friend, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how blank his face became. It was as if the two had a psychic bond.

"Hey, honkey, whazzup?"

JD shook his head, smiling. Figures. He no sooner thinks of Turk, and he appears.

"Nothing, chocolate bear," JD muttered, hoping against all hopes Turk would get the clue and leave him with his beer.

Turk didn't say anything for a moment. JD took a gulp of his beer, facing forward, knowing his friend was examining him.

"Dude, you all right?"

"Yeah, man, how come? Just thinking is all."

"What'd The Man say?"

"Nothing," JD repeated, his voice flat and expressionless.

The flush moved up JD's cheeks, no matter how much he willed his capillaries to remain at ease, and not dilate... but how was he to escape the inevitable? If only he could consciously master his cardiovascular system, like those swamis in India could. If he had such control, the capillaries in his face wouldn't be the only blood vessels at ease... not at attention as his...

Oh, God, JD thought. What the hell?

"Whaddya mean, 'nothing'? Was he a jerk and said something mean?"

Turk looked around, all set to confront Dr. Cox.

JD leaned over to hiss at Turk, "Shhhh! Don't make a scene, okay? He's here, he's having fun, everyone's having fun. Don't make waves, Turk, PLEASE!"

"That's it," Turk said with resolve, looking for his wife. "I'm gonna sic Carla on him."

Turk spied his wife and, with a determined look on his face, started to move off. JD grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and yanked him back, with a strength that surprised Turk.

"Okay, okay, stop. I'll tell you. He just surprised me, that's all," JD said, not turning to face his friend. He was just thankful he was wearing his loose-fitting scrubs.

"He, uh..." he paused, then took a deep breath to calm his speech. "He said, 'Thank you, JD.'"

Turk stared at him; JD could see the look from the corner of his eye.

"He THANKED YOU?" Turk squeaked.

"Shhhh, don't make a deal of it. That's what I meant a minute ago. He's having fun. This whole rabies thing came close to breaking him." And Dr Perry Cox doesn't break, he had to add for his usual inner dialogue.

"Whoa," was all Turk could utter. He looked around the room and saw Dr Cox talking to some of the other attending doctors. The older man smiled at a joke someone shared, and Turk had to grin in response because the man, who's face had been so sad for the past week, looked absolutely relaxed for a change.

Turk bumped JD on the shoulder, motioning for him to turn around. "Look at him, JD. I don't think I've ever seen him like that."

"What do you mean? Happy?" JD said, pleased to see Perry truly having a good time, not tense and looking like he was going to pounce on the first hapless intern to happen by.

"Yeah."

"They look like they're having a good time over there. I'm going to wander that way. Now that we're out of residency, I think it's time I start schmoozing with the other attendings."

"Go for it, dude," Turk said, slapping him on the shoulder. "I'm gonna go see what Carla and her cronies are doing."

JD walked up quietly behind Perry, not saying a word. It was a natural position to him, behind his mentor, and he grinned a greeting to the other doctors.

Perry knew the instant he was there. Some how, over the years as JD's attending physician and now colleague, he'd developed this sense of when the younger man was in his space.

"Rachel, go fetch me another brew," he muttered, not turning to face him, expecting instant obedience.

"My feet are wings, sahib," JD said, genuflecting as he backed away. He was rewarded with a bark of laughter from Perry and the other doctors.

JD smirked as he heard one doctor say, "You've got him well-trained, Per."

"It's what he lives for, pleasing me," Perry said, gulping down the remains of his current bottle of Guiness.

JD couldn't resist and, turning around and walking backwards toward the bar, he quipped, "In your fantasies, Coxie!"

That served to crack up the circle of doctors, including Dr Cox. JD smiled and turned to the bar. "Two Guinesses, please."

He didn't usually indulge in the dark, thick ale, but he wanted to show Dr Cox he could tackle the bitter Irish brew as well as the next Irishman. So I'm not Irish, big deal, he thought.

"Here ya go, mate," he said, handing one to Perry. His feeble attempt at an Irish accent wasn't lost on his mentor, and Perry winked at him in appreciation.

"Thanks, Gabrielle."

"De nada, Xena."

As the evening wore on, JD matched Perry Guiness-for-Guiness. It felt so good, having Cox in a playful, open mood, that JD knew he was starting to overindulge. After his third Guiness, he held up his hands in resignation.

"I give, Per, I can't drink any more of this liquid tar."

"Ah, this'll stick to yer ribs!" Perry said in a flawless Irish accent.

"What is this, the accent's some type of genetic encoding? The Irish you get, the drunker you are?"

JD laughed at the confusion on Perry's face as the older doctor tried to muddle his way through the imaginative syntax.

"Wait... lemme think... 'The Irish you get...' What?"

JD put his hand on Perry's shoulder, and motioned with his hand. "Here, finish that up, and I'm going to fetch you a coffee. I think it's time to cut you off."

"Naw, I'm good," Perry insisted, but he obeyed without thought and gulped down the remains of his fifth Guiness.

JD took the empty bottle and led Perry to a bar stool.

"Got coffee?" he asked the bartender.

"Sure, on the house," he said, getting a mug and filling it for Perry.

Halfway through the first cup, Dr Cox seemed to start coming back to lucidity. JD heard his best friend Turk come up behind him.

"Dude, c'mon, Carla and I are getting tired, let's get outta here."

JD looked between his two best friends and Dr Cox, torn on what to do. Turk was his ride, so he'd have to leave now... but Perry was obviously not up to driving quite yet.

"Turk, I'm going to hang out here a bit longer, make sure Dr Cox is cool to drive."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'll make sure he gives me a ride home, or drops me off at the hospital. I can crash in the on-call room."

"All right, we'll see ya later," he said.

JD looked at Dr Cox as he slowly sipped his black coffee, staring straight ahead, his eyes unfocused. Ut oh, JD thought. He's getting himself worked into the doldrums about the last couple of weeks.

Knowing that alcohol was a depressant, JD had to think of something quickly to get Perry focused on the fun evening.

He took the cup of coffee from Perry and sipped it, grimacing. "Ew, this is terrible, Dr Cox. Let's go find some real coffee."

JD glanced at the bartender, who'd scowled at him for the coffee comment. JD shrugged and gave the man a sheepish grin for a silent apology.

"Let's go. I saw a little diner a couple of blocks away, we can go there and get a latte or something to eat, or both."

Dr Cox simply nodded his head in agreement, his focus still off in the middle distance. JD pulled him standing. Perry was a bit steadier on his feet than he was a short while ago, but still not good enough to drive his beloved Porsche.

As they stepped out into the brisk night air, they both took grateful breaths to clear the bar smoke from their lungs.

Perry automatically started toward his Porsche, flicking the button on his keychain to turn off the alarm.

"No, no," JD said, snatching at the keyring. He grabbed it before Cox could realize it was gone.

"What--?" Perry muttered, looking at his empty hand.

"You're not good to go yet, Perry. Too many Guiness Extra Stouts in you."

Perry's face screwed up as he thought about what JD said. After a moment, he said, "You're right, Clarissa."

"'Course I'm right. Here, let's go down to that little diner, get a few espresso shots and some carbs into you, that'll make you right as rain to drive."

An hour later, the two walked almost shoulder-to-shoulder back to the shiny black car. JD watched Perry as they walked, to be sure the older man was steady on his feet.

Dr Cox, of course, knew of the scrutiny. Without looking, he said, "I'm fine, newbie. Le'me alone. Gimme my keys."

"Nope, not till I'm 100 per cent sure you're okay to get behind the wheel."

When they got to the car, Perry leaned against the front fender, folding his arms and glaring.

"Well, Dr Dorian? Do I pass muster?"

JD pointed to a straight crack in the sidewalk. "I want to see you walk that line without faltering."

"Get bent."

"C'mon, Per, let's go, soldier."

"Burn in Hell, Satan."

JD laughed, and took him by the shoulder, encouraging him to stand and do his bidding. "Look, Perry...."

"Not gonna do it," he insisted.

Cox knew damned well that he was okay to drive. Did Sharry think he was nuts? He would never ever drive his Porsche if he wasn't 100 per cent good-to-go. He couldn't figure out why he was enjoying this little game with his minion, but having JD fuss over him, thinking he was protecting him, gave him one of those warm fuzzies as happened when JD had done his turn keeping vigil with him.

The kid had stuck with him through his "watch," refusing to leave. He'd hung in there. As much as Dr Cox had tormented JD through their years of association, he'd never once managed to break the kid. He kept coming back for more. He was tenacious. That tenacity made Perry Cox realize what a good friend he had in JD, even if he could barely admit it to himself, let alone Mackenzie.

Dr Cox'd had a blast so far this evening, and hoped it wasn't anywhere near ending. He'd play along with JD's attentive concern. He didn't want JD to think he was TOO drunk, however. He'd bide his time and see what would happen over the remainder of the evening. All he knew was that he didn't want to be alone. They could watch a movie or catch Conan O'Brien's show, didn't matter.

He was grateful that Jordan and Jack would be at the ex-harpy-in-law's for two more days and nights, and that his condo was closer to drive than JD's little apartment.

"So, Perry," JD said, breaking Cox out of his momentary reverie, "you gonna walk that line, or do I have to resort to drastic measures?"

"Can you drive a stick, Mackenzie?"