My Want vs. My Need

The roof was warm. It was around 6 o'clock in the morning and I had just managed to sneak through the halls of Sacred Heart without getting caught by anybody that might've recognized me. I walked up to the ½ wall and gently pulled myself up so I was sitting on it with my legs dangling over the edge, my heels kicking brick as I swung them to-and-fro. My head tilted back against the cool air as I looked to the sky and, behind me, I heard the door open and close with a click. I didn't even have to turn my head to know it was Dr. Cox. He sauntered casually up to me and slowly turned to lean his back against the ½ wall, still slightly facing me. We were like that for a while, just soaking in the morning.

I don't think either of us knew what to say to each other, though I'm sure Dr. Cox would deny that if I ever voiced my opinion aloud. In truth, we hadn't seen each other since my last day in the hospital as a patient when he informed me of Kelso's decision to put me on a month long, nonpaying medical leave with weekly sessions from Dr. Sampson. Since then I'd been hauled up in Turk and Carla's guestroom, with Dan on the couch, because they had been weary of me going back to Elliot's place so soon. I didn't mind it. It just meant I didn't have to subject to Elliot making me eat Keith's dinner and listening to their rendezvous at night.

It had been a bit awkward at first, but I think we all adjust particularly well, considering. We were all smiling a bit more and they actually seemed happy whenever I zoned out to my daydreams. Carla finally had somebody to gossip to after her shifts from the hospital, so I was happy to comply when she wished to open the floodgates of drama. Turk and I started watched our old sitcoms again, playing games, and generally just hanging out like we usually did. It was as if things were slowly coming back to normal.

Except Dan, Dan was different in ways I'm not even sure how to describe. I mean, sure, he was normal in a sense that he was still a stiff, got into these major arguments with Carla, played goofy games with Turk, and mooched out on our stuff, but, the way he acted, it almost freaked me out. He was more responsible and patient with me since I was released from the hospital, cooking meals and bringing me medicine when I rubbed my temple or coughed just once. Carla called it the Big Brother Wave, saying that it was normal for family members to cope this way after their siblings get out of the hospital.

I'd had my four sessions with Dr. Sampson too, and we (well, mostly she) talked more about the incident on the roof. I had told her I wanted to go back into the case and figure out what Mr. Radin had, but she blew that whole idea out the window without any response, so I dropped it. After our last session, she dubbed me strong enough to get back to work as long as I didn't participate in any activities that might hinder my mind. Whatever the hell that means.

This, in turn, brings me up to this point, on the roof with Dr. Cox, a month later, with just 30 minutes to go before my shift officially started.

Dr. Cox pursed his lips and cleared his throat. "Look, Clara," he started, "if you're going to jump then you might as well go downstairs and grab Ted real quick because this may as well be his only chance."

I ducked my head and a tiny smirk quirked my lips up. He caught my eye and shook his head.

"They don't know you're here," he stated, more of a statement than a question. I nodded. There was no point in lying; I had snuck out of Turk and Carla's apartment. "Where's Danielle? Gone?"

"Dan," I said, "is probably at the apartment sleeping off a hangover, and I'm not sure if he's ever going to leave at this point. He told me he's starting to like it here."

Dr. Cox groaned. "Hell…"

I shrugged. "Yeah, I've been telling him-"

He turned his head abruptly, cutting me off, and crossed his arms over his chest as he stared me straight in the eye. His mouth moved slowly, almost as if he thought I wouldn't understand him, and he asked, "What did you want, Newbie?"

"Aren't you the one who told me nobody really knows what they want?"

He stared.

Okay… Awkward.

I ducked my head. "What? A man," he scoffed, "can't enjoy a sunset on this beautiful morning?"

"Not you. Not up here."

"It is my shift," I said defensively.

He pointed out, "That doesn't explain why you're up here."

There was no real reason for me being up here and I can see why it seems weird that I am. It's just that I've been thinking of my actions at the hospital as of late and I've realized at how ridiculous it's been to have an irrational fear of roofs. I mean, sure, everybody would probably understand why I would never want to be up here again in my entire life, but it's …I don't know, stupid. The roof didn't do anything to me, so why be afraid? I used to love coming up here, sometimes to hit golf balls off the roof and to fling down watermelons, but, other times, it was just to think.

I wanted…closure…

Yeah. Closure is a good word for it.

I sighed finally, though, and shake my head, not answering Dr. Cox's question. He, in turn, frowns, but he says nothing to prompt me about it.

"Look… Dr. Cox, I just…" I trail off and Dr. Cox turns to wait, uncharacteristically patient as I search for the right words, my heels pounding fiercer against the brick wall as I swing my legs more. "Dr. Sampson's sessions- Ooff!" I nearly fall right off the roof as Dr. Cox cuts me off, slamming a piece of paper against my chest as he grips my arm to keep my balance when I start to sway. "What's this?"

Dr. Cox simply lets go tilts his head toward the sky.

My eyes waver back to the onion-thin sheet in my hand and the words of Radin and final prognosis in the same sentence have me swaying again. This time, however, before Dr. Cox can get a hold of me, I fall backward, back onto the roof. Fortunately, Dr. Cox had enough sense to ease my fall and keep my head from getting another concussion as my back takes most of the force.

I sit up awkwardly, the paper still clenched in my death grip, and shift out of Dr. Cox's hands as I scrabble to my feet so that were standing across from each other. Dr. Cox runs a hand through his hair before stuffing his fists in his pockets. His eyes are evaluating me, making sure I'm all right. I'm fine though, and I tell him so.

"Dammit, Newbie…"

"Sorry," I mutter, my gaze averting his hard stare, "it was a momentary brain lapse." I hold up the paper to him. "What is this for?"

"You wanted to know-"

Wait… The only way he would know that…

"You've been following my sessions!" I say suddenly.

Dr. Cox continues unfazed by, but definitely not denying, my accusation. "I took it from the file and wrote it down for you to see." He shrugs and clears his throat again.

I look to him, hopefully. "What would-"

"You know I won't answer that." He frowns and sags against the ½ wall again as I stare him down. "Listen, Newbie, you may want to know but you should only read it if you need to know."

Terrific. The great question of want and need again.

I hate it.

Mr. Radin either had schizophrenia or multiple-personality disorder, I knew that for a fact. The question, however, was whether or not I really wanted to know which it was, and, if I did want to know, why in the world did I have this incredible want to know?

It would bring no sense of relief, no justice, and no grief. I would just know; nothing else.

So… Do I need to know?

I groan in frustration and fold the paper before turning to tear it multiple times, throwing the confetti pieces over the roof and watching them sway in the wind as they disappear from sight. I cross my arms and lean against the wall, letting out a deep breath. A hand lands on my shoulder and I turn to see Dr. Cox at my side, looking toward the sky.

"What I want?" I sigh, pausing, shaking my head. "What I need…"

Dr. Cox looks to me.

"You said I'd be ready?"

"I did."

"Am I?"

"Yes"

EXEUNT

While I wanted this story to go out with a big bang, I also wanted an ending that had a Dr. Cox and JD conversation with a good, solid understanding that JD is able to get back on his feet with help from people in his life. I hoped y'all liked the interaction though. Anyway, over the next few months I will edit all the chapters and fix all the critical errors I probably made.

My Rescue Blues: The title of this story comes from the song "Rescue Blues" by Ryan Adams. I would've put the lyrics in, but FFN has a rule that does not allow it, and I'm not about to break it. However, it is one of my most favorite songs so, if you can find it, please listen to it.

Prequel: I'm sorry to say that I got swayed in a different direction and will, most likely, not write a prequel. I love the slight mystery this story made and it's not appealing to me to write a whole story based on the facts of the whole chapter of "My Confidants". Also, I'm sorry to say, I don't write sequels.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for reviewing.

HAPPY DAYS