AN: So, here it is. The very last chapter. There was so much more I wanted to add to this, and there was just absolutely no way. I've been wracking my brain for days, trying to think of things to squeeze in. And I just can't. So, to me, it seems a bit rushed and unfinished. But I guess that's what the second part will be for. :) Enjoy

Chapter Seven:

"What do you mean that's not Dan?" Perry asks, the tone and the growl still there but his voice softer than usual. "Who else has that gangly girl figure of yours?"

JD sighs, closes his eyes, and breathes deeply. He's gotten so used to the pain that he winces out of habit, and Perry starts to pull away. The young man's eyes fly open, and he latches onto the other man as if his life depends on it.

"Shh," Perry says comfortingly, leaning in and brushing his lips against JD's forehead. The young man revels in the sensation, knowing the feeling won't last much longer. "It's okay. You're okay." He waits until JD seems to settle some before pulling back and staring him in the eyes. "JD, what do you know about this?"

JD's gaze flickers to the paused screen, and he swallows hard. "His name is Charles Hanns. Dan... found him."

"Who is he?" Elliot asks, looking back to the screen and grimacing at the likeness of this man to her friend.

JD's lips quiver. "He's my double." Four wide pairs of eyes center on him.

"You have a double?" Turk says incredulously (and with just a hint of jealousy).

JD moves away from Perry's warmth, sighing as he lies back against the pillows. "Had a double," he corrects. "He wasn't my idea. Dan grabbed him one day, thinking he was me, and had the 'brilliant' plan to hire him." The young man's hands wring restlessly. "Everywhere I've been, he's been somewhere else, popping up and showing himself to give me false appearances."

"Why didn't we know about this?" Perry grinds out, trying to curb his anger and failing miserably.

JD shakes his head—he knew it wouldn't last long—and Perry leans in dangerously close. Hot breath ghosts across his face, and he winces. "Because Dan knew."

"Dan knew what?" Perry demands. His patience with the young man is wearing thin. Perforated lung or no perforated lung, the Irishman is going to get answers.

"Dan knew what they were planning." JD swallows, desperately wanting water and knowing it isn't the right time to ask for some. "He knew about the execution."

"How?"

JD hates that it's Perry who's interrogating him. But he hates worse that his friends are letting him, though he understands. If it were anyone else, JD could hold out. But Perry has always had a way to get the truth.

"He has a contact."

"A contact?" Perry snarls the word like it's a bad taste in his mouth.

"There's a woman," JD continues, startled as the older man pushes away and starts to pace.

"A woman," he spits. "Of course it's a woman. It's always a god damn woman."

"Hey!"

"Oh, he did not."

Elliot and Carla glare at the man indignantly.

Perry goes on ranting as if he hadn't heard them. "That gum-popping, gun-toting soldier-wannabe," he mutters. "Does he know how dangerous that could have been? How dangerous it still is?"

"I was careful, Coxie." The voice at the entrance of the curtained room is soft, calm, and the occupants turn to find a well-worn Dan wavering tiredly at the opening.

Perry starts towards him with a growl, but JD's weak, wheezing voice stops him. "Per," he breathes, pushing himself up with what little strength he has. "Please...don't." His arms give, and he falls back against the pillows with exhaustion, his breathing worsening into staccato-ed hiccups.

"Careful, Sheila," the older doctor says harshly, but his eyes give away his concern. "You'll rip your stitches." He turns, then, narrowing his eyes at the elder of the Dorian sons. "You—" he points "—with me." He brushes past Dan with a shoulder bump, and the other sighs, spinning on his heels and following the angry doctor.

0 o 0 o 0

"Listen, Coxie, I—" Dan isn't expecting the fist to his left cheekbone, but, understandably, he knows he should have. He staggers, taking a breath and then straightening to level with the other man again. He doesn't lift his arms or hands in defense. Nothing more comes, though, and he's almost disappointed. "Anything else?"

Perry glares at him. "I'd have a whole hell of a lot more for you if you weren't my brother-in-law."

Dan is surprised—partly because Perry has never so much as hinted to the fact that they are technically related, and partly because Perry is letting the fact that they are technically related get in the way of an ass-kicking. "Coxie, I'm touched."

"Don't be," the doctor growls. "You endangered the life of my husband and our children, not to mention our friends and the dozens of other people hunkered down with us in this hell hole."

"I can explain."

"I don't want excuses, Dan. I want you to understand." Perry's anger, suddenly, leaves in a whoosh of exhaustion. "You could have been killed. We could have been killed. Those bastards would have been led right to us." He groans tiredly and rubs at his face. "What in Bobbo's name were you thinking?"

Dan lowers his head. "I wasn't," he says quietly.

Perry's hands lower to his sides, balling into fists. "You're damn right you weren't. If anything had happened to JD or the kids..." He lets his sentence fall, not willing to think of the possible outcomes, of the consequences. He shudders and turns away. "So what are we going to do about this?"

"She didn't know anything. I only took information from her. I never gave any." Dan swallows. "But you're right. She would have betrayed us."

Perry turns back to him, taking in his appearance for the first time since his arrival. Dan's eyes are red-rimmed, his hair matted to his head in dark, tangled tufts. His lower lip is bleeding, and there's an angry ring of raised skin around his neck. His torn jacket is streaked with dark crimson.

"Jesus," the doctor breathes, taking a step towards him. "What the hell happened to you?"

Dan sniffs, clearing his throat and taking a rasped breath. "I told her I wasn't going to meet with her anymore, that I didn't trust her, that I didn't trust any of them." He coughs and sniffs again. "She tried to strangle me with something." He gingerly touches the raised flesh on his neck, wincing and pulling away quickly. "I almost blacked out, but..." His eyes go distant. "Someone saved me."

"Someone?"

"Someone who knows Johnny, who helped him escape." Dan looks into Perry's skeptical gaze. "He said that Elliot could vouch for him." His face pales. "And then he shot her, said she was a liability. She could tell her people about me and him, and things would only get worse."

"Who was this guy?" Perry asks curtly.

"Our new contact," Dan says with raised eyebrows. "General James Hollock."

0 o 0 o 0

Perry has a picture he keeps in his pocket. Always. His wedding day—his second one. He isn't quite sure why it's this particular picture he carries with him. There are plenty of others, thanks to Carla and Elliot. He and JD have an album-full to choose from. There's a picture where he and JD are smiling and laughing at the camera, arms looped around one another and holding tight. Another is of their "I do" kiss, Perry dipping the younger man just slightly and JD's arms slung around the Irishman's neck. And another still is of their first dance as a married couple—a silly, fast-paced waltz that JD had insisted on, even though he tripped up every other step.

But the photograph that Perry has carried with him since the day it was developed is one of just JD, standing in a corner by himself after an exhausting ceremony and an even more-exhausting reception. His head is tilted to one side, his gaze distant and his mouth drawn into a thin line. It's as if he is realizing that the fun and celebration of the day has only been a distraction of the pain and anguish just beyond the wall he leans against.

Their wedding had not been elaborate, something that had suited Perry just fine. The guest list was limited to friends and family only, and their honeymoon had been no more than an unspoiled wedding night. After everything they had been through, all that JD had shouldered, Perry thought he'd been successful in keeping JD's mind from wandering to his duties as savior of the country. But this picture—probably an accidental snapshot taken by one of the kids—proves this notion wrong, proves Perry's failure to keep his husband from feeling the worries of the world.

But it is also a reminder of what the older doctor is fighting for, what he needs to fix in order for Jonathon Michael Dorian-Cox to be just JD again. And Perry will be damned if he doesn't see that day.

0 o 0 o 0

"Hey, little brother," Dan says softly, sitting on the edge of the young man's cot and running calloused fingers through his sibling's dark tufts of hair.

JD's eyelids slide up to half-mast, one corner of his mouth twitching as he takes in the bruise starting to form on his brother's cheekbone and draws in a painful breath. "You in trouble?"

Dan chuckles. "Coxie's not happy. But he'll get over it."

"S'okay," the younger Dorian breathes tiredly, his eyes closing slowly. "He's not too happy with me either."

"You kiddin'? He couldn't be mad at you if he tried."

JD attempts to laugh, but the gesture leads to a bout of coughing that nearly closes the young man's throat.

"I'm fine," he rasps when Dan looks like he wants to bolt to find someone. "I'm okay, Dan. Really." His brother studies him skeptically for a moment longer before settling at his side again.

"Scooch over," Dan says with a pat to JD's thigh. JD complies, and the older man carefully situates himself alongside him. A comfortable silence fills the small room, save for the beeps and blips of various monitors. JD revels in the sounds and sensations, feeling safe for the first time in a long time. He's nearly lulled to sleep when Dan speaks again.

"You know we had to, right?" he asks softly.

"There's no excuse for letting a man die, Dan," JD replies, a frown twisting his mouth.

"He knew the risks."

"All except one."

"He was ready to die for you."

"You think he would have been if we told him when he was going to die for me?"

"That's not the point, little brother."

"Then what is, big brother?"

Dan shifts onto his side, staring down at the young man. "You know you're the one, don't you?"

JD rolls his eyes. "Dan, please don't make this a bad play off The Matrix."

"I'm serious," the older man says in almost a whisper. "I know you don't want to believe it—"

"God," JD wheeze-laughs hysterically, looking up at his brother with wide, blue eyes. "I want that more than anything. I want to be the one that ends this fucking war. I want to stand there and feel the sun on my face and know that there's no one out to get me. 'Cause I'm tired, Dan. I'm so tired...I don't know how much longer I'll last."

Dan's heart aches at the tone of his baby brother's voice. He's giving up, he thinks sadly. Oh, JD...

"I was ready," the young man whispers, his voice shaking with the confession. "I was going to let them kill me. I wanted them to."

"Why?" the other man asks desperately, a hand resting on JD's shoulder.

The young man smiles. "Because I know you," he states matter-of-fact. "And I know Perry and Turk and Carla and Elliot. I know you all well enough to know that even when I'm gone, you'll be fine."

"JD..." Dan draws in a trembling breath. "Why does this sound like 'goodbye'?"

JD's smile doesn't wane. "Times like these, it's never 'goodbye,' Dan." He closes his eyes and sighs. "It's only ever 'just-in-case.'"

0 o 0 o 0

Two Months Later:

JD takes a deep breath, holding it as he looks to the people surrounding him one-by-one. Turk, the best friend who has stood by his side longer than any of them. Carla, the mother-hen to his compulsive-injury nature and his constant conscience. Elliot, the blond girl-wonder who has miraculously kept JD's head on straight while sometimes losing her own. Jordan and the kids, the constant reminders in his life about what he is fighting for (and who he would have to fight against if he didn't). Dan, the older brother that has more than made up for the torturous childhood he inflicted on the younger Dorian son and who will always be there to lend a gum-popping comment or two. And Perry, his soulmate, the one person on the planet who has seen the real Jonathon Michael Dorian and not run screaming.

JD smiles at these people and lets loose his pent-up breath in a whispy laugh.

"Somethin' funny there, Ginger?" Perry asks without the least bit of vehemence. In fact, the laugh is probably the best thing that any of them have heard in a very long time. It's a glimpse of the old JD, the carefree JD.

"I'm just glad you could all be here," the young man says, his smile growing wider and spreading throughout the small group.

Perry snorts, pulling the young man to him and kissing his forehead. "All right, sentimental Susie. You ready to do this?"

Before JD can answer, Doug walks into the room, giving a faint smile and a nod. "Ready to go when you are, JD."

JD nods, reluctantly leaving the warmth of Perry's hold and sitting on the stool in front of a small cam-corder. Doug takes his place behind the camera, holding a hand up and pointing at him as a little, red light brightens to life.

"Members of the resistance," he begins, quiet and firm, "and anyone else out there watching." He swallows the bundle of nerves at the back of his throat. "My name is Jonathon Michael Dorian-Cox, and I am here to tell you that I'm still alive"—he spreads his hands briefly—"still breathing." His eyes narrow slightly. "And I will not stop until I've seen this war through...But as much faith"—he winces at the word—"as you and my family have put in me, I know I can't do this alone."

He stop for a moment, looks down at his shaking hands and silently thanks Doug for the fact that they're not in the shot. He looks up, a pleading look taking his face. "I need help," he begs, his tone wavering slightly. "I need your help, as much of it as I can get, so I can be the person that everyone seems to think I am. With your help, I will have hope." He shares a quick look with Perry, and one corner of his mouth twitches upward. "And with your faith, I will be Jonathon Michael Dorian-Cox, and we will get through this."

AN: I hope you enjoyed this. Writing these characters in a war!universe really made my job lots of fun. I just wish it was my only job...Stupid late hours at a stupid grocery store.