(no subject)
Title: Consent to Treatment (1/?)
Author: Blu (BluAlbino)
Pairing: JD/Dr. Cox
Rating: T/PG-13
Warnings: AU
Summary: Percival Cox, mental patient, is famous for driving psychiatrists crazy. His new shrink, Dr. Dorian, has no idea what he’s getting himself into
Disclaimer: None of it is mine… Title stolen from Blue October
It was Percival Cox’s eighth year in Sacred Hands.
He was a blemish on the record of an otherwise spotless mental hospital, famous for their five-year treatment. Not that it was ever specifically said that he would be out in five years, but nearly all of the Temporary patients before him had.
Cox was very satisfied with his place in life.
Until John Dorian.
___
“Blue.” Perry Cox announced, glaring at his Jell-O, as if he expected a full apology from it for being just. So. Damn. Blue.
“Yes blue,” replied Carla, the one nurse with any sort of tolerance towards Cox’s moods. “And I know that deep down you honestly don’t give a damn about what color your Jell-O is, so why don’t you go away, eat the Jell-O, then come back later when you want to tell me what’s really wrong with you.”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Cox said, staring down the Latina nurse. He crossed his arms over his muscled chest, determined to look intimidating even if he was wearing a crazy’s uniform and holding a plastic cup of absurdly blue gelatin. “I just don’t like blue.”
Carla snorted through her nose at him, then dismissed him by moving on to the person in line behind him. Scowling, he marched off to eat his disgusting dessert in good company. Well, in decent company at least. Cox sat at a school-cafeteria-style table with three of the long-timers.
Long-timer number one, Lurch.
Lurch was a tall, skinny and deeply disturbed man. Rumor had it that he used to hunt small animals by the hundreds and stuff them, he finally landed in the whacky shack when he started leaving them as presents for his ‘lady friend’. When the police questioned him, he said they were gifts for his fiancé. She had never heard of him. No one knew his real name.
Long-timer number two, Doug.
Born with every nervous tic known to mankind, Doug interned at a normal hospital for a year, then after killing nearly every one of his patients, checked himself in.
Long-timer number three, Satan himself.
Or Kelso, if you didn’t want the men in the white coats to think you were crazier then they already did. Cox had no idea what he was in for.
“B-blue again?” Doug stuttered.
“Ya think?” Cox scowled at him. Doug ducked his head down between his hands.
“I’ll eat it.” Lurch announced. Cox glared at him and ate a piece slowly off his spoon. His plastic spoon. No one gives crazies actual silverware.
“What the hell are you grinning about?” Cox asked, seeing the pleased expression on Kelso’s face.
“Fresh meat,” Kelso said, his words contrasting oddly with his grandfatherly smile. Cox turned around to see the brand new babydoc.
He was young, with over-gelled black hair and an innocent face. As with most new psychologists, he was floundering about, obviously out of his element.
Cox felt himself grin.
“Newbie!” He yelled, whistling. The new kid twitched back and forth looking for who called him. Finally his eyes settled on Cox and he skittered over.
Cox heard Kelso chuckle in the background.
“Um, hello,” Newbie said, “I’m-”
“I could gave a rat’s ass Joanna.” Cox jumped in, cutting him off. The kid’s eyes went wide. “I just wanted to warn ya, since you seem to be a little lost. The nuthouse is no place for little girls.” The kid stood there for a moment, perfectly still, mouth in a little “o” of shock.
“Bambi!” Called Carla, “come here for a second.” Newbie practically ran away from the long-timers, who all burst out laughing when he was gone.
“Good one, Perry,” chuckled Kelso.
“Go to hell Bob.”
___
Every evening at six o’clock it was time for one-on-one. The psychologists found people who were especially crazy and spent an hour trying to get them to open up, resulting in many a tearful confession.
This was were Cox was famous.
Over eight years Perry was personally responsible for the retiring of thirteen psychologists, and uncountable switching offs. He prided himself in being able to scare them off in less then a month.
Cox considered going for a new record when he found out his next session was with the Newbie.
___
“Uh, you’re Percival Cox?” Squeaked Newbie when he walked in.
“Yeah, what’s it to ya, Libby?” Newbie flinched.
“Y’know, I think we got off on the wrong foot earlier in the cafeteria.” He said. “My name is John Dorian, but you can call me Dr D. Or just JD if you want.” He gave Cox what was probably meant to be an endearing smile.
This was gonna be too easy.
“Listen, Jennifer, we didn’t get off on the wrong foot, you did not offend me in some convoluted way that only a crazy person would understand, and this is not your chance to make up for it. I don’t like you. End of story.” Once again JD was dumbstruck my Cox’s statement. But only for a second.
“Why?” He asked. It sounded like it had just popped out of his mouth, no conscious thought involved.
“I don’t like psychologists.” Cox scowled at him. Why the hell did he even answer?
“Well, you’re in kind of a bad place then.” JD blurted, then flinched again.
“What, didja think I’m just in here on my own time for shits and giggles? I’d love to go, Clarisse, but that isn’t exactly an option right now.” He gave Newbie his worst homicidal stare, flipped the coffee table over, and stormed out.
If it kept going like this, he’d have the guy gone in a week.
___
The doctors at Sacred Hands believed in separating the misbehaving from those actively trying to get better. Flipping tables, much like in prison, got you three days in a locked room.
___
Solitary was a breeze when you knew how to handle it. And seeing as Cox ended up in solitary at least once a month, he knew how to handle it.
Soon as Cox was alone, in a normal room this time instead of a padded cell, he immediately set up for the long haul. Step one; vent.
Cox crossed the room in less than two steps and upended the small cot he was supposed to sleep on. Grabbing the metal legs of it, Cox slammed it into the wall hard enough to pop apart part of the metal frame inside of it. One of the other Solitaries screamed in response to the crash it made.
They really should have put him in a padded cell.
Step two; Get comfortable.
With his bed now ruined, Cox leaned against the wall, sliding down it until he was in a sitting position, the blanket off of the cot near his feet. He sighed.
Step three; sleep.
He leaned against that wall, unmoving, waiting for sleep to claim him. The ideal would be to wake up in three days time, when they opened the door to let him out.
___
Perry heard the whoosh of the bottle as it flew over his head. A second later it shattered on the wall, leaving glittering pieces of glass and drops of whiskey on the carpet.
He looked over his shoulder and there he was. But he couldn’t be, he was dead.
“Boy.” The dead but not dead man said.
Perry looked down at himself and he wasn’t a tall man anymore, he was just a skinny little Irish kid an the dead man was getting up and saying his name and walking over to him oh god he was walking straight towards him-
___
“No da-” Cox said as he jolted awake. One look at his surroundings reminded him that he wasn’t a skinny Irish kid in a decrepit old house, but a muscled Irish nutjob in a mental hospital. He opened and closed his hands, trying to flex away the shakes that had suddenly appeared in them.
___
Seventy-two long hours later, Cox was released from solitary confinement. Just in time to be spirited off to group therapy. Joy.
Five Long-Timers; Lurch, Doug, Kelso, Sweaty-Teddy and Korman the Hypochondriac, sat with two Temporaries; a redheaded guy named Keith and Todd the Sex Addict, in a loose circle. At the head of the circle, next to an empty chair that he assumed was his, sat Dr Maddox, the boss shrink for this floor.
“Glad you could join us, Perry!” She said perkily, indicating the empty seat for him to sit on. Cox scowled at her, moving his chair away before he sat on it. Maddox frowned, but didn’t protest.
“D-d-dr. M?” Doug said, raising his hand.
“Yes, Doug?”
“Who-o’re they?” Doug pointed at two men leaning against a wall. One Cox already knew.
“They’re our two newest Doctors. Dr Dorian, a psycologist,” Newbie waved tentatively. “And our new neurosurgeon, Dr Turk.” The bald black guy nodded. There was a quiet chorus of “hi Dr Dorian. Hi Dr Turk,” that Cox was not a part of.
“Why don’t you two introduce yourselves?” Maddox said. It sounded like a simple request, but Cox knew what would happen if either of the doctors refused.
“Hey, I’m Doctor Turk. But you can just call me Turk.” Cox rolled his eyes at the extremely original introduction. Baldy didn’t notice. “Uh, when I’m not working I’m usually reading medical journals or playing basketball.” He mimed shooting an invisible ball at an imaginary hoop. The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Baldy was overcome by the awkwardness and stepped back.
“Hi everybody!” Newbie sad, waving. Cox’s scowl deepened. “I’m Dr. Dorian, but I want us all to be friends, so call me JD. Or J-Dizzle.” Newbie laughed at his own bad joke. Keith attempted a smile, but everyone else just stared at him.
“Anyway…” Newbie continued, blushing now. “ Really do want all of us to be friends, and I look forward to getting to know all of you.”
Maddox smiled and applauded politely, and the doctors left. “They seem nice.” She announced, looking around the circle for any signs of agreement.
There were none.
Author: Blu (BluAlbino)
Pairing: JD/Dr. Cox
Rating: T/PG-13
Warnings: AU
Summary: Percival Cox, mental patient, is famous for driving psychiatrists crazy. His new shrink, Dr. Dorian, has no idea what he’s getting himself into
Disclaimer: None of it is mine… Title stolen from Blue October
It was Percival Cox’s eighth year in Sacred Hands.
He was a blemish on the record of an otherwise spotless mental hospital, famous for their five-year treatment. Not that it was ever specifically said that he would be out in five years, but nearly all of the Temporary patients before him had.
Cox was very satisfied with his place in life.
Until John Dorian.
___
“Blue.” Perry Cox announced, glaring at his Jell-O, as if he expected a full apology from it for being just. So. Damn. Blue.
“Yes blue,” replied Carla, the one nurse with any sort of tolerance towards Cox’s moods. “And I know that deep down you honestly don’t give a damn about what color your Jell-O is, so why don’t you go away, eat the Jell-O, then come back later when you want to tell me what’s really wrong with you.”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Cox said, staring down the Latina nurse. He crossed his arms over his muscled chest, determined to look intimidating even if he was wearing a crazy’s uniform and holding a plastic cup of absurdly blue gelatin. “I just don’t like blue.”
Carla snorted through her nose at him, then dismissed him by moving on to the person in line behind him. Scowling, he marched off to eat his disgusting dessert in good company. Well, in decent company at least. Cox sat at a school-cafeteria-style table with three of the long-timers.
Long-timer number one, Lurch.
Lurch was a tall, skinny and deeply disturbed man. Rumor had it that he used to hunt small animals by the hundreds and stuff them, he finally landed in the whacky shack when he started leaving them as presents for his ‘lady friend’. When the police questioned him, he said they were gifts for his fiancé. She had never heard of him. No one knew his real name.
Long-timer number two, Doug.
Born with every nervous tic known to mankind, Doug interned at a normal hospital for a year, then after killing nearly every one of his patients, checked himself in.
Long-timer number three, Satan himself.
Or Kelso, if you didn’t want the men in the white coats to think you were crazier then they already did. Cox had no idea what he was in for.
“B-blue again?” Doug stuttered.
“Ya think?” Cox scowled at him. Doug ducked his head down between his hands.
“I’ll eat it.” Lurch announced. Cox glared at him and ate a piece slowly off his spoon. His plastic spoon. No one gives crazies actual silverware.
“What the hell are you grinning about?” Cox asked, seeing the pleased expression on Kelso’s face.
“Fresh meat,” Kelso said, his words contrasting oddly with his grandfatherly smile. Cox turned around to see the brand new babydoc.
He was young, with over-gelled black hair and an innocent face. As with most new psychologists, he was floundering about, obviously out of his element.
Cox felt himself grin.
“Newbie!” He yelled, whistling. The new kid twitched back and forth looking for who called him. Finally his eyes settled on Cox and he skittered over.
Cox heard Kelso chuckle in the background.
“Um, hello,” Newbie said, “I’m-”
“I could gave a rat’s ass Joanna.” Cox jumped in, cutting him off. The kid’s eyes went wide. “I just wanted to warn ya, since you seem to be a little lost. The nuthouse is no place for little girls.” The kid stood there for a moment, perfectly still, mouth in a little “o” of shock.
“Bambi!” Called Carla, “come here for a second.” Newbie practically ran away from the long-timers, who all burst out laughing when he was gone.
“Good one, Perry,” chuckled Kelso.
“Go to hell Bob.”
___
Every evening at six o’clock it was time for one-on-one. The psychologists found people who were especially crazy and spent an hour trying to get them to open up, resulting in many a tearful confession.
This was were Cox was famous.
Over eight years Perry was personally responsible for the retiring of thirteen psychologists, and uncountable switching offs. He prided himself in being able to scare them off in less then a month.
Cox considered going for a new record when he found out his next session was with the Newbie.
___
“Uh, you’re Percival Cox?” Squeaked Newbie when he walked in.
“Yeah, what’s it to ya, Libby?” Newbie flinched.
“Y’know, I think we got off on the wrong foot earlier in the cafeteria.” He said. “My name is John Dorian, but you can call me Dr D. Or just JD if you want.” He gave Cox what was probably meant to be an endearing smile.
This was gonna be too easy.
“Listen, Jennifer, we didn’t get off on the wrong foot, you did not offend me in some convoluted way that only a crazy person would understand, and this is not your chance to make up for it. I don’t like you. End of story.” Once again JD was dumbstruck my Cox’s statement. But only for a second.
“Why?” He asked. It sounded like it had just popped out of his mouth, no conscious thought involved.
“I don’t like psychologists.” Cox scowled at him. Why the hell did he even answer?
“Well, you’re in kind of a bad place then.” JD blurted, then flinched again.
“What, didja think I’m just in here on my own time for shits and giggles? I’d love to go, Clarisse, but that isn’t exactly an option right now.” He gave Newbie his worst homicidal stare, flipped the coffee table over, and stormed out.
If it kept going like this, he’d have the guy gone in a week.
___
The doctors at Sacred Hands believed in separating the misbehaving from those actively trying to get better. Flipping tables, much like in prison, got you three days in a locked room.
___
Solitary was a breeze when you knew how to handle it. And seeing as Cox ended up in solitary at least once a month, he knew how to handle it.
Soon as Cox was alone, in a normal room this time instead of a padded cell, he immediately set up for the long haul. Step one; vent.
Cox crossed the room in less than two steps and upended the small cot he was supposed to sleep on. Grabbing the metal legs of it, Cox slammed it into the wall hard enough to pop apart part of the metal frame inside of it. One of the other Solitaries screamed in response to the crash it made.
They really should have put him in a padded cell.
Step two; Get comfortable.
With his bed now ruined, Cox leaned against the wall, sliding down it until he was in a sitting position, the blanket off of the cot near his feet. He sighed.
Step three; sleep.
He leaned against that wall, unmoving, waiting for sleep to claim him. The ideal would be to wake up in three days time, when they opened the door to let him out.
___
Perry heard the whoosh of the bottle as it flew over his head. A second later it shattered on the wall, leaving glittering pieces of glass and drops of whiskey on the carpet.
He looked over his shoulder and there he was. But he couldn’t be, he was dead.
“Boy.” The dead but not dead man said.
Perry looked down at himself and he wasn’t a tall man anymore, he was just a skinny little Irish kid an the dead man was getting up and saying his name and walking over to him oh god he was walking straight towards him-
___
“No da-” Cox said as he jolted awake. One look at his surroundings reminded him that he wasn’t a skinny Irish kid in a decrepit old house, but a muscled Irish nutjob in a mental hospital. He opened and closed his hands, trying to flex away the shakes that had suddenly appeared in them.
___
Seventy-two long hours later, Cox was released from solitary confinement. Just in time to be spirited off to group therapy. Joy.
Five Long-Timers; Lurch, Doug, Kelso, Sweaty-Teddy and Korman the Hypochondriac, sat with two Temporaries; a redheaded guy named Keith and Todd the Sex Addict, in a loose circle. At the head of the circle, next to an empty chair that he assumed was his, sat Dr Maddox, the boss shrink for this floor.
“Glad you could join us, Perry!” She said perkily, indicating the empty seat for him to sit on. Cox scowled at her, moving his chair away before he sat on it. Maddox frowned, but didn’t protest.
“D-d-dr. M?” Doug said, raising his hand.
“Yes, Doug?”
“Who-o’re they?” Doug pointed at two men leaning against a wall. One Cox already knew.
“They’re our two newest Doctors. Dr Dorian, a psycologist,” Newbie waved tentatively. “And our new neurosurgeon, Dr Turk.” The bald black guy nodded. There was a quiet chorus of “hi Dr Dorian. Hi Dr Turk,” that Cox was not a part of.
“Why don’t you two introduce yourselves?” Maddox said. It sounded like a simple request, but Cox knew what would happen if either of the doctors refused.
“Hey, I’m Doctor Turk. But you can just call me Turk.” Cox rolled his eyes at the extremely original introduction. Baldy didn’t notice. “Uh, when I’m not working I’m usually reading medical journals or playing basketball.” He mimed shooting an invisible ball at an imaginary hoop. The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Baldy was overcome by the awkwardness and stepped back.
“Hi everybody!” Newbie sad, waving. Cox’s scowl deepened. “I’m Dr. Dorian, but I want us all to be friends, so call me JD. Or J-Dizzle.” Newbie laughed at his own bad joke. Keith attempted a smile, but everyone else just stared at him.
“Anyway…” Newbie continued, blushing now. “ Really do want all of us to be friends, and I look forward to getting to know all of you.”
Maddox smiled and applauded politely, and the doctors left. “They seem nice.” She announced, looking around the circle for any signs of agreement.
There were none.