I scared myself with this, I really did. It's a parallel to Countdown, where they found the cancer too late and JD is dying. It can, however be a standalone story. For all of you reading it as stand alone- Renal Cell Carcinoma, JD's disease, is kidney cancer.

Enjoy (Although I don't think you really can….)

The first thing I hear is the ticking of a clock.

"Are you okay?"

"Are you alright?"

"Oh my god, JD!"

"Is he okay?"

"What the hell happened?"

"He just fainted…….."

"Again?"

The words mix with the continuous click, click click of the clock.

It's soothing, a continuous, steady beat. I focus in on it. I'm on a stretcher, I'm in a bed. But everywhere there's still a clock, still ticking, As long as the clock is ticking I'm breathing.

But not for long.

I'm dying.

Every inch of my existence is buzzing, on a high, waiting for the inevitable to happen, trying to use up every bit of energy it has.

It's working.

I just wish I wasn't so fucking tired all the time.

No one told me I'd be sleepy when I was dying.

But I am. And it sucks.

"Why me, Brown Bear?" I ask on a whim. He looks at me oddly.

"What do you mean?"

"Why is it me with cancer? Why not-" I point. "Him? Or her? Or them?"

"I don't know, JD."
"What did I do to deserve this?"

"JD-"

"I must have done something."

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Being so pessimistic all the time. It really gets me down."

"I'm dying, Turk. Remember?"

"How could I forget, JD?" He looks at me with wounded eyes and I curse. Getting angry isn't gonna make me better.

It might.

Shut up, voice. I'm not listening to you.

Why ever not? I give you hope.

Hope is nothing. Why hope when hope will get me nowhere?

Hope will always take you somewhere. Perhaps not where you want to be, but somewhere.

Oh, shut up. I'm not in the mood.

You're never in the mood. What happened to 'I-might-get-better?'

The same thing happening to my kidneys. Now scram.

I bounce the red rubber ball against the wall. Like that game, brick buster or something. I'm hitting my problems and bursting them into oblivion.

First, the obvious- my cancer.

Next, kidney cancer

Then all cancers

Then all disease

Then…. my secret crush.

The ball rolls across the floor and it all swirls away in one big explosion,

I wish. I wish….

Dreaming's the worst. I dream of the strangest things. The doe eyed bracken stares up from the deepest pits of flame, the eagle dives into the swirls of electric purple fog. Always weird. But then I wake, excited. The cancer, the chemo, all a dream! Then a raise my hand and there's no hair on my head and I slump back down.

I've done this 3 times, 5 times, 27 times, 45 times. You think I'd learn. But I don't. Because there's always that nagging voice. I call her Faith.

I knew you hadn't given up on me yet.

Hearing voices probably isn't a great thing to admit, so I keep it secret. Faith helps me. She gives me hope.

And I help her.

How do I help Faith?

Simple.

Faith is just a voice, but voices hurt too.

With no body, how does a voice let out it's pain?

Through me.

Through the knife blade.

11 slits on my wrist, 11 scars. Blood will keep me alive, blood shows I'm still alive, heart still pumping, blood still bleeding. Faith wants me to be alive, I want her, I want Faith alive so I cut and I bleed and I bandage.

But I live another day.

"Patricia!" Another nagging voice, but this time not Faith.

"Why is Mr Turner's cat scan not completed?"

"I fainted again." I say, eyes trained on the floor. I look up. He looks concerned, but he can't be concerned. Dr Cox doesn't do concerned.

"Where?"

"Cafeteria."
"When?"

"Yesterday lunch break." He whistles.

"And you're back already? You're ill, you should be resting."

"Yeh, because Renal Cell Carcinoma will all go away with fluids and bed rest." I snort.

It might do.

Shut up, Faith.

"Seriously. Go and take a nap, Sally."

Sally. The six year old girl at the hospice, on my visit. The pretty flowery bandana, the sparkling blue eyes, the ever present lollypop. On my first visit, she had strawberry. My second visit, orange. When I went to stay there, blackcurrant. When I left, nothing. Sally was gone, nothing but a pink coffin and old lolly sticks in the bin.

"JENNIFER! Listen to me!" I snap out of it, stare him in the eyes. Bad move. His eyes are brilliant, dazzling. There's a whole world in them, a world I want to be a part of. He begins to rant and I watch his mouth move, not listening. He speaks in perfect synchronisation to the clock, ticking away in the background. Always present, never noticed, always missed.

The clock ticks and so does my heart.

I push the sandwich away, the smell of cheese making my stomach turn. I should eat, because otherwise I'll faint and the others will worry. But I can't face food, so I get up and leave. I head to the roof. Me and Faith need to have a conversation.

You've been ignoring me.

No, I haven't.

Yes, you have.

I have?

Yes

Sorry Faith. Sorry Turk, Carla, Elliot, Dr Cox. Sorry world.

That's better.

I'm worried, Faith.

Can you hear a clock?

I lower my ear to the watch. Tick, tick. Small and high pitched but there.

Can you?

Yes, Faith. I can.

Then you're okay.

Thank you, Faith.

It's a long drop down from here, from the roof.

Yeh.

You are going to throw yourself, right?

What?

You want to, you need to.

I won't, Faith. I can't.

You must, you must. I want you to.

Faith….

Don't let me down

She's said the magic words. I've let everyone else down. I don't want to let Faith down, not my Faith. So I nod.

Okay, Faith.

Good. To the edge then.

Toes touch the edge, feel the cool expanse below. Nothing but air. Clean, pure air.

Faith?

Yes?

Will it make me pure?

Of course it will.

Of course it will. How could I doubt her? Of course it will. Closer. I look down.

The ground is hard, Faith.

Yes, but I promise you you won't feel it.

You promise?

Yes.

She's promised, so it must be alright. I'm ready, I'm doing it, I'm going to jump-

There's a hand on my shoulder.

"Faith?"

"What?" The hand's voice is gruff. Not silky, smooth talking Faith.

"Hi Dr Cox."

"If I know myself and you, you were going to throw yourself off."

Lie.

But he might help, Faith.

You don't want help, you want purity.

Ahh, yes. I forgot. Sorry, won't happen again.

"I wasn't. I was watching the view."

"The car park view?s"

"Yeh." Now I think about it, it's beautiful. The cars glisten and gleam and people talk and run and laugh. It's brilliant.

"I'm worried about you." The words are plucked from nowhere.

"Why?"

"Why shouldn't I be? You faint, you run off, you try to commit suicide…."

"I wasn't going to."

Liar

You told me to lie.

That still makes you a liar.

She screams the word around my head. It hurts. Stop it, Faith. She stops. I think she feels sorry for me.

"What's stopping you from telling me the truth?" He demands. And he's so close and he's so strong and he's so him that I mutter "Faith."

Traitor.

"Faith?" I nod dumbly.

"Well get rid of it. Tell me." He looks me in the eye, like an equal. I take a deep breath.

"I was going to do it."

"I knew you were."

And suddenly I'm angry, really angry.

"How would you know? Do you know what it's like, dying? You see tomorrow as a day you won't see, yesterday as a last chance. You wish every song was a second longer, so you could stay in the beat for another second, in the story for another moment. You know that-

"You know the end is coming, and that it could be any time." He interrupts. "So every minute could be your last. There's the constant fear of it all being over in a blink. And you have to be strong and you have to be calm when deep down all you want to do is curl up and cry."

I blink.

"How do you know?"

"Dad's beatings got worse and worse." He says, openly, casually. "From a fist to a belt to a baseball bat." I wince. "I knew that one day he'd kill me, he said so himself. I just wasn't sure when. Then one day he did it too hard. Broke two of my ribs. I lay on the floor, blood seeping out. I knew I was dying." He stops talking and just stares ahead.

"And what happened?" I gently coax him.

"Paige found me. She called 999 and she prayed and prayed and prayed. It took them an hour to get past Dad- he threw punches and locked doors and all other things. By the time they reached me, I should have been dead. But I wasn't. Because of Paige and her prayers."

"Because of Faith." I whisper.

"Not your kind of faith, whatever twisted faith you're believing in. That kind of faith isn't real."

She is, she is, she must be. "It is."

I am.

"It's not."

But. I. AM.

"She is." I protest weakly. He shoots me an odd look.

"No. It's- she's not."

I am I am I am I am I am I am I am

"JD. Look at me." He's said my name, and now I'm looking at him, my eyes and his eyes. And now he's pulling me closer and it's his lips and my lips and we're kissing. He pulls away and murmurs into my ear.

"No, JD."

The screeching whine of Faith disappears. She's gone. And for a minute I'm lonely but he's here and I'm crying. And he's not teasing me, he's holding my close and comforting me. And it's just what I need, just what I've always needed.

He clambers into the hospital bed, arm around my waist.

"Not long."

"No. Not long at all."

"It's been a good three months."

"The best." I agree. "But it'll all be over soon"

"Yeh."

Silence, and then there's nothing but a calm, comforting sleep.

Happiness is waking up and there's someone there and it's someone you love, some one you've always loved and that you've only just found out that you love them that way

The clock ticks, the constant click soothing as always. I follow it, my eyes tracing the hands. Another second is gone, another second passes with me doing nothing. Nothing is something I'm going to miss doing. I like nothing, it's soothing and calm and predictable. Nothing is the best kind of something.

Happiness is not having to worry about the future or regret the past because it's all here and now and it's me and him and kisses and hugs and everything it ever could have been, everything it is and it's fantastic.

"Heya." My eyelids flicker open.

"Hi yourself." I say sleepily.

"Nice dreams."

"I dreamt about you."

"Brilliant dream, then." He laughs, a great sound. I love laughing, I love him laughing. Laughter is a brilliant thing. Giggling, chuckling, or even just smiling.

I hope angels laugh.

Happiness is someone being there, they don't even have to do anything just as long as there's someone to listen and wipe away the tears and make you smile and cheer you up.

Happiness is the best feeling because it doesn't have any bad effects, just a warm glow that surrounds you and makes you and everyone around you feel brilliant, on top of the world.

Happiness is him and me and me and him and ginger curls and a snarky smile and a loud strong whistle.

Happiness is now.

The clock is still going.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Still there.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Always there.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

He's here to. Perry. He's always here, by my side. My Perry. I like that, the 'my'. He's my Perry and I'm his Newbie. And I like it like that.

I try to talk, but the tube down my throat stops me. Words and plastic don't mix that well.

"Shh." He soothes, stroking my hair. "Almost time now."

What? It can't be time, the clock's still going.

The clock, my heart, my breath, the ticking, the monitors, the doctors the nurses the machines the hallways the mop the ceilings……………

I'm gonna miss it all.

Because Perry was right.

Hell, he's always right.

I've always known he'd be right.

Someone calls out "Hey, the clock's broken."

The last thing I hear is a clock stopping.

The flat beep sounds across the hospital, filling every room, every inch.

"He's gone."

Perry presses a light kiss to the head of the body in bed.

"See you next life." He chuckles, and walks away.

There's a wail as a new baby is born, somewhere in Maternity.

And the clock's just started ticking again.