As I walked out to my scooter, I thought about what had happened today. Which was a lot. I mean, first of all, the Janitor tied me up and hung me like a bat in the storage closet. That was not fun. I saw the light only once before I was let down. When Dr. Cox came in, but when he saw me, he left right away. Just minutes later, Turk came in, cut me down, and asked who had done it. All I would say was, "…Janitor…"

Secondly, since becoming a doctor, I had lost my third patient. Mr. Moscato was the nicest man I had ever met. I remember the last thing he had said to me…

"Dr. Dorian?" he whispered.

"Yes, Mr. Moscato?" I replied with trembles.

"Would you tell my wife to take care of James and Eric for me. They're so eccentric those two. They're like clones of you doctor." He grinned and closed his eyes.

"I will, Mr. Moscato." And just like that, he was gone. And within the hour, Mrs. Moscato, James, and Eric were there. As soon as I saw them, I dreaded what I had to say to them.

"Mrs. Moscato," I said, approaching her and her sons. "I'm sorry, but your husband died this morning."

She started to cry, but, being the big brother, James quickly let her take his shoulder.

"Mrs. Moscato," I said trying to get her attention. "Your husband wanted me to tell you to take care of James and Eric for him. I just wanted you to know, that I was very fond of your husband as my patient."

"He spoke of you every day. And how you were like him at your age." She looked up for James' shoulder. "He would also say that he enjoyed your games of poker before you left."…

And lastly, my turkey sandwich was stolen when someone tapped me on the shoulder during my lunch break. I'll get that Janitor one day.

Well, when I hopped on my scooter, something I saw stopped me from turning it on. It was dark out so I couldn't make out the figures, but I could tell that they were both male. I quietly got close enough to hear the voices of the two:

"Stay away from Newbie, got it?" Dr. Cox?

"What do you care about him?" The Janitor?

"I'm all the kid's got. Now leave him alone…" With that, I left.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The next day was pretty quiet, except for the fact that Carla was an evil monster. She yelled at me just for asking for an extra pencil. An extra pencil! That's it! I have a feeling that she's going to kill me one day. On my way to the cafeteria, I felt something on my neck, and then my sight went black, and I felt the cold ground of the hallway on my face.

Dr. Cox was stalking down the hallway looking for me. When he got to the Nurses Station, he shouted, "Janitor!"

And like a shadow, there the Janitor was, standing right next to him. "You rang?"

"Where's Donna?"

"In the closet." He said it as calm as he probably could.

Dr. Cox opened the closet to fine me passed out with my head against the wall.

"What did you do to him?" Cox came over to my side and checked my pulse. It was really slow.

"I hit him with a dart full of Baclofen. Figured it would knock him out long enough to put him in a strange place."

"Well, guess what? His pulse is very slow, and getting slower." Cox looked angry. "Gandhi!" he yelled to the open door. Turk came running when he heard. "Get me a free room, and help me carry Hillary to it." Turk complied and did as he was told immediately.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

It was Monday, three days since the Janitor drugged me. Dr. Cox was the doctor who had my charts. And I was still unconscious. Dr. Cox came walking down the hall with his head hung down. Obviously, he was feeling blue. Until he bumped into the Janitor.

"I hope you're happy." Cox said; anger was just filling him.

"What do you mean?"

Cox sighed, "JD was allergic to the Baclofen. He was fatally allergic. Which means, he might not wake up from the coma he's in."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

I was awake, but I couldn't feel anything. I hear could hear stuff, and it was interesting to hear what everyone was saying about me. Even though only four people visited me, it seemed even more important to the person who talked to me every night. And it was just about time for this person to come back.

"Alright, here's the deal Newbie, you have to wake up. I mean; it's been five days. It's time to wake up. Barbie is sulking right now. Gandhi and Carla are basically planning your funeral as we speak. You have got to show some signs of life here!" He paused for a moment. "You know, I've never told anybody this, but you're like a son to me. You really are. And it hurts me, as a father, to see his son in such a condition that his son can't talk back." I could tell by his voice that he was crying. "And now, I'm going to give you something that you've been waiting for for a couple years." He stood up and gave me a hug. "And you might not be able to feel it right now, but I'm giving you a hug."

I could feel it, and was happy, but terribly sad that I couldn't hug him back.

Just before he left the room, he said, "I love you, JD."

I could barley move my lips and it was barely audible, "I love you too, dad." And after I said that, everything was gone.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

I was pronounced dead at 3:15 am. Dr. Cox left the room at 3:14 am. He felt so bad that he almost didn't leave the bar for three days. After I died, it felt like I was a spirit. I followed Cox around almost 24/7. The only time I didn't was when he was in bed, if I did watch it would make me a pervert. And I don't want to be a pervert. When Cox got back to working regular hours, he was even more irritating then before. Since that day, Dr. Cox had only said four words to the Janitor, "You killed my son." And then he would go back to work.

It's been five weeks now, and Carla had given birth yesterday. She had originally told Turk that he could name their first child, which turned out to be a boy. Almost immediately, he knew what he was going to name the new comer: Jonathan Dorian Turk –or- Jonathan Dorian Turkletin (according to Kelso).

Elliot had gotten over my death, but she still gets sad whenever she meets someone named John or whenever Carla and Turk brings in little JD.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Now, here are twenty-four words to make this story one-thousand-two-hundred words. That's thirteen. Now fifteen. And seventeen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. And Twenty-four! Freakin' Sweet!