im_a_catch: ([Emote] Man About Town)
http://community.livejournal.com/paradisa/7100196.html

[filtered to the unaffected]

The day my Izzie...my Izzie develops an appetite for destruction is the day I gotta ask, even in this crazy joint...

Has everyone lost their minds?!
im_a_catch: ([Emote] Pensive)
http://community.livejournal.com/paradisa/6810623.html

[The strange sensation hits him out of nowhere as he reads, waiting for Izzie to show up...maybe he's just that jittery, that excited to see her. One minute he's reading and the next he gets hit with that feeling, whispering through him and causing the room to shift juuuust enough to be unsettling. He shuts his eyes. His fingers tense on the magazine as his head falls back against the pillow...and keeps falling as he lands flat on his back in bed.]

Oof! Sonufa...

[Straightening, he turns to see if the back of the bed went down without his knowledge...maybe he hit the button on the call switch with his hip again...until he realizes it's not his bed. It's not even Seattle Grace.]

The hell?...

[He gets out of bed hesitantly, checking and confirming that there are no wires, tubes, or leads attached to him any longer. He's still in his hospital gown and confused as hell, too confused to be standing in the middle of some medieval suite in a cotton dress that leaves him bareassed in front of God and everyone. The fact that he's seemingly alone counts for nothing.]

Nurse? Dr. Bailey?!...Izzie?

[Spotting a wardrobe, he walks over and opens it, surprised and yet not to find it filled with clothing, and in his size no less. Stripping off his hospital gown, he tugs on a pair of sweats, still looking around for something that will give him a clue as to what in the blue hell is going on.]

Izzie! ANYONE!!
im_a_catch: ([Watcher] On Patrol)
Denny pulled the car up in front of the house, double checking the address he'd Mapquested before setting out. He'd traded email addresses with Baileigh before driving up to Corpus Christi, and found directions before taking off. He still wasn't quite sure why the hell he was here...

...only that this was something he'd never encountered before, and he was dead set on making sure he didn't miss another thing that the world had to offer for the rest of his life. And thanks to the new heart beating in his chest, that life was going to last a good long time.

Moving one house down, he was satisfied he had the right address and parked, getting out of the car and shivering a little against the cold. Seattle had been just as bad, and he had the same cold nights in Tuscon, but he couldn't help but be a little bit homesick for the dry, or oppositely tropical heat of Memphis, weather depending. It had been a long time since he'd been home...but now that he was on his feet again, he found himself missing home more and more each day.

Taking a deep breath, he walked around the car and got his kit out of the backseat, feeling the old familiar zing of excitement that came with a new job, a new study to take part in...a new terrain to explore. He was hoping with a few tests, or maybe some visual identification, he could nail this demon's origin...after all, every biological specimen had a bloodline. Even supernaturally spawned ones.

...right?

With his sample kit, a beaten up old tackle box, in hand, he climbed the front steps of Baileigh Solis's porch and knocked on the door. From inside, he heard a muffled male voice call out, then a moment later found himself faced with a bleach blonde goth sporting a sour expression...and what looked like a fruit-punch mustache.

"Oi...you the science bloke, then?" he asked, licking away the substance before sipping from the mug in his hand...Jesus Christ, was that blood?

"Uh...yeah." he managed, offering his hand slowly. "Denny Duquette...this where Baileigh Solis lives?"

"Yeah...she's in the kitchen, mate. C'mon in."
im_a_catch: ([Post Transplant] Pensive)
Probably the worst damn bout of cabin fever I ever had came about when I was waitin’ for my bandages to come off...after my heart transplant. Sounds kinda funny, right? I spend more ‘n a year or two bound to my bed, and it’s when I’m healthy that it finally starts getting to me. Don’t get me wrong, I had my dark moments towards...well, what I *thought* was the end. Signing those DNR orders and all.

Thing is, though...I was sick for damn near five years. In and out of hospitals, up and down from my sickbed...you get a little stir crazy after some time, but after a while it gets to be like something out of THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION. The walls of a sickroom got a lot in common with the walls of a prison. First you hate ‘em, then you get used to ‘em...then you get to depend on ‘em.

I fought it, though...long as I could, but eventually I was turning into that poor sick bastard that I loathed and despised. If not for Izzie...I think I’d have reached my breaking point a lot sooner. Might not have even made it to the transplant. Sometimes I hated how she helped me...how great she was at getting me through every day, but more than that making me *want* to get through every day, even if it was hooked to a machine. I didn’t want to be that guy, I didn’t want to sit idly by and watch a machine pump my heart and be okay with it. But I knew I had to do it.

So cabin fever? Not so much...I couldn’t feel trapped and smothered, or even enclosed because there was no hope. No outside, nothing but my room, the machines, and the people that moved in and out of it. After, though...after the transplant, with my stitches ready to come out and the bandages no longer a problem...

Then there was hope again.

And *that’s* when the walls started closing in.

And I’ll tell ya this...I’ve never been happier to deal with a bout of the claustrophobic grouches than I was in the few days before the doc came in and snipped me free. Because nothing cures cabin fever better than not just getting out and getting free...but knowing that you *can*.

Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 396
im_a_catch: ([Post Transplant] Smirk)
I saw the worst of what cheating can do...and I don`t just mean cheating at the games... )

Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 468
im_a_catch: (Denny Duquette)
Yes, I sure as hell am impulsive, and most folks like me that way. Granted, it gets me into trouble on occasion, but that ain’t always a bad thing. You get impulsive, you sometimes make some pretty hefty mistakes, and Lord knows I’m more than a little guilty of that. Still, some mistakes are a lot of fun to make...and most of the mistakes I’ve made in my life? I’d make ‘em again if I had the chance, with the exception of those few times when barreling into something balls out got someone hurt. Not always me, though...some of those times I hurt myself? I’d go through again.

Like recently...had another incident with the stairs. Not my heart, mind you...but everything else? Yeah, the old bones weren’t real happy with me for taxing ‘em so early. I got winded after a couple flights, shaky after three...shaky enough that I took a spill. Oh, I’m fine, but that was three days ago and I got a few real good bruises out of the deal.

Plus I got a real chewing out from my physical therapist...Julie. She wasn’t happy with me at all. Yeah, I got a real tongue lashing from her when she came down to get me for my next session...seemed kinda surprised, me trying to tackle that so early on, but I got the usual tirade about taking on more than I could handle and screwin’ myself royally.

But under the bluster...I think she was kinda impressed. Maybe proud of her newest charge.

Besides...she’s real damn cute when she’s huffy.

Yep...sometimes it really does pay not to think things all the way through...

Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 284
im_a_catch: (Denny Begin the Begin)
In the last few weeks? I`ve faced death a time or two... )

Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 474
im_a_catch: (Denny Begin the Begin)
Hell, all people got themselves some weakness or another…asking a man to pick one’s like askin’ him to walk up to a haystack and pick his favorite piece of straw. But, I guess in the end we all got one chink in our armor bigger ‘n the rest, right?

I guess mine would have to be my predilection towards being liked. Don’t get me wrong, I ain’t the type to be starved for affection, or too concerned with another person’s opinion…it’s all about me liking other people. I wanna be a guy they can admire…appreciate…befriend. I want to be a person that other people will allow into their lives, and I want to leave a positive mark on them. It’s important to me that I have that ability…that permission to be a part of people, not win their favor. Hell, I meet a man thinks it’s a good idea to jump off a cliff and he trusts me ‘nough to get close to pull him to safety, he could hate me the rest of his born days for ruining his good time. But the dumb son of a bitch’d be alive, wouldn’t he?

It’s not acceptance I crave…it’s influence. A chance to leave my mark.

I guess…my biggest weakness is my desire to be remembered, and remembered well.

And believe me, you don’t have to be on your deathbed to want that.

Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 232
im_a_catch: (Denny Duquette)
Past lives, huh? Well, I’m not much of a believer in that stuff...good little Catholic boy here, born and bred. That there’s the sort of thing’d get a fella burned as a heretic and all that fun-filled Spanish Inquisition-type stuff.

But, if we’re just doing this for the hell of it...getting a little introspective and whimsical...I think in a past life I was a dolphin. Maybe a whale...dolphins are too smart, so I think I’d be giving myself a little too much credit in that department. Yeah...humpback whale sounds about right. Big, little cumbersome, not exactly real easy on the eyes, but we can both sound real pretty when we want to.

That’s just be getting whimsical, though...you want the introspective part? Long as I can remember, I’ve always loved the sea...almost to the point of obsession. For a while there, my dad swore up and down I’d end up a sailor, and he was sort of right. I mean, I do sail and whatnot...and I do spend a lot of time in white, I just swap out the sailor suits for the occasional labcoat.

Now again, that’s just me havin’ a little fun, but to be honest? If past lives were real, I could’ve been any-damn-body in the universe. Way I understand it, the whole philosophy behind reincarnation is getting right all the mistakes you made until you finally earn your way into whatever constitutes as Heaven. In my opinion? Half the beauty of life is screwin’ some of it up. Hell, I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but no matter what the consequences or how wrong they were, I loved makin’ ‘em, and given the chance? I’d make ‘em all over again.

We’re human...we’re not *supposed* to get life completely right. That’s one of the best parts of it.

And anyone that tells you any different is selling something.

Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 322
im_a_catch: (Denny Pain)
Now that dream was gone…and so was the man he used to be. )

Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 457
im_a_catch: (Denny Begin the Begin)
Dennis Jeremiah Duquette
1969 - 2006

Dennis Jeremiah Duquette was born in New Orleans, Louisiana to parents Jeremiah Brian Duquette and Elaine Maria Vachon-Duquette in 1969. His death occurred at Seattle Grace Hospital, due to complications resulting from viral cardiomyopathy that occurred as he awaited a heart transplant under the care of Dr. Preston Burke.

Dennis, who went by Denny through most of his life, held a lifelong fascination with the sea, which carried him into a comfortably successful and thoroughly enriching career as a marine biologist, focusing his work primarily on the study of dolphins in Florida as well as the study of marine ecosystems in California. He was also an avid music enthusiast, enjoyed cooking, and was a steadfast friend to those around him.

Denny is survived by his parents and Dr. Isobel Stevens. At the request of his will, he will be cremated and his ashes scattered at sea. No memorial services will be held.


Denny couldn’t help but smile as he read over the obituary, scrawled in pen on a careworn legal pad that lay amongst the plethora of bits and bobs he’d accumulated during his hospital stay. He’d written it just after asking the nurses for that damn DNR order prior to the transplant.

Funny how times had changed.

Unable to resist, Denny reached over to pluck up a pen and crossed out the top and bottom of the text, then started writing anew with a grin on his face.

Dennis Jeremiah Duquette, was born in New Orleans, Louisiana to loving parents. His death doesn’t matter, because his life was a lot more worthy of discussion.

Denny is survived by his wife, Dr. Isobel Stevens, and his parents. At the behest of his will, memorial services will be held at the nearest bar and will be open to the public.


A moment later, he reached up and crossed out the dates, replacing it with his birthday and nothing else.

There was no stopping death...only enjoying life while one still could. Even after he was gone, Denny wasn’t going to let anyone mourn. Life was just too damn short.

As he continued to pack his things in preparation for being discharged, he began to go over the details in his head...second thing he was going to do when he got home was amend his will. His obituary promised services at a local bar, and so help him, there would be just that: detailed instructions in his will for the biggest goddamn party anyone ever threw.

First, however...he was going to get Izzie to his place and see how she felt about welcoming him home properly.

Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 443
im_a_catch: (Denny Devil May Care)
He hadn’t known Preston Burke from Adam when he was first admitted to Seattle Grace because of heart trouble. The funny little episodes he was having of lightheadedness and arrhythmia were nothing...just a few too many late nights, overworking himself to the point of exhaustion. Still, his co-worker, Jesse, conned him into checking it out.

When Burke walked into the room after his exam instead of the ER doctor on call, Denny didn’t think much of it...just found himself in a rather good-natured argument about the latest baseball scores as he was examined a second time.

The next visit, Preston asked about his latest work with aquatic ecosystems and got him going for nearly an hour. He forgot he was nervous, and he stopped thinking about the fact he was seeing a cardio thoracic surgeon for a little dizziness and funny flutter in his chest.

By the fourth visit, as they started running all the tests, he started striking up the conversations and jokes instead of Burke. His gratitude knew no bounds when the other man obliged him willingly, talking and chattering to keep the fear...the truth at bay.

Above all else, however, when the truth finally did come, Preston gave it to Denny without any window dressing...straight, solid, and real.

It was different by that point, though...because Denny had stopped relying on the kindness of a stranger to make him forget what he was doing there.

By that point, he was relying less on a stranger and more on a friend to deal out bad news with respect.

And the fact that he didn’t disappoint Denny in the least only solidified that bond...one that he was sure would end up saving his life.

Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 289
im_a_catch: (Denny Duquette)
Sex was the first thing he thought about when he got the call to head down to Seattle Grace.

There was a girl that lived down the hall from his apartment...cute little brunette that loved to go jogging. She was pretty as a picture...not particularly devastating, but she always made him look twice. He loved to just *look* at her when she’d pass by his place, or when she jogged down the street, below his window. Her hips flared nicely, a little bit broad in the backside, but she had a tiny waist and long legs...she had a 1930's body, where the curves were what counted.

He dreamed about taking her to bed...getting his new heart, going jogging with her when he healed up. Wine her, dine her, then bring her back to his place and take off her clothes, taste her skin...

...and best of all, feel his heart race when she touched him, let his body lose control and do everything he’d been forbidden since he got sick. Like running a marathon, only a lot more sweaty and a *hell* of a lot more fun.

Sex was life...it was hope.

And that was all he wanted.

At least until Izzie Stevens walked into his hospital room.

Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 213
im_a_catch: (Denny Devil May Care)
What I`ll do to get what I want all depends on exactly what I want. )

Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 529
im_a_catch: (Denny Duquette)
I’m a scientist. I ain’t no nuclear physicist, but marine biology *is* a science, y’know. So when folks find out that my biggest pet peeve is close-minded people? They’re usually surprised. I guess they got it in their heads that all scientists are rigid, unyielding skeptics with no faith in anything that isn’t in a test tube.

And when they make those assumptions? They proceed to bug the crap outta me.

There’s only one sure thing in science, and that’s nothin’s for sure. Things get disproved left and right every day ‘cause we’re always learning something new about *everything.* It’s all about exploring new frontiers, new worlds we never thought existed before.

I didn’t get into my field ‘cause I thought the world was limited. I became a scientist to go beyond what I knew to be. It’s all about open doors...I like open doors. They can lead to some pretty interesting places. So when someone tries to close a door in my face by damn near glorying in their stone-age, middle of the road, bullshit narrow-minded thinking? You better believe it’s going to get under my skin, and I mean the wrong way under.

So you tell me aliens exist? I’ll think it over. Gays got the right to marry? I’ll weigh the issues. Hell, I’ll even ponder the existence of Santa Claus if you got a valid argument to share. I do not, under any circumstances, see why any person on this planet should walk through this world with a set of blinders on.

There’s just too damn much to see, and believe me...after being sick? I’ve learned to appreciate the variety out there a whole lot more.

Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 281
im_a_catch: (Denny Begin the Begin)
If I could do just one thing right now, and not pay any sorta price for it? Right this very second?

I’d run a marathon.

Yeah, you heard me right...call it cornball and kinda weak if you want, right now that’s my deepest, darkest secret fantasy. The one that’d make my doctors shriek in horror and my nurses panic as they tried to chase me down with pills and shots and IV’s and all that nonsense.

A couple weeks ago, I was lying in bed with a battery pumping my heart for me. I had cold hands, pasty skin, and not enough breath to run this great big carcass of mine without an oxygen tube nearby. Now? I have this brand spanking new heart and about half as many tubes hooked up to me as I used to...maybe ten instead of twenty. I can actually take a leak all by myself now. And I get to go outside seein’ as how I ain’t hooked up to drains on my wounds no more...I’m doin’ so good I get ‘bout an hour or so each day to sit out on the patio. You got any idea how good it feels just to sit and feel the breeze on your skin, to breathe air that isn’t choked with chemicals?

You know what I did yesterday? I stopped to smell the roses...you heard me. There’s a little rose bush just outside the patio entrance, weak little thing...but it had blooms, and you can bet your ass I stopped to smell ‘em.

Now there’s a lot more interesting stuff I could be wishing for...wild and dangerous things I could go after if there were no repercussions to worry about...hell, I’m getting married soon as I’m well.

But that’s the large and small of it, really...I’m getting married to the most beautiful, intelligent, sweet-natured woman in the whole damn world, I got a working heart of my very own...and pretty soon, I’m gonna be hale and healthy again. I got Izzie coming to see me in a couple hours, and right now I got the fresh air filling my lungs...what else could I possibly want in the whole world?

For the waiting to be over...to be me, completely, whole and free again.

So if I had my way? Right this very second...I’d run me a marathon.

Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 401
im_a_catch: (Denny Devil May Care)
No sir...dont know a thing about it. )

Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 515
im_a_catch: (Denny Begin the Begin)
I think over time, I lost religion and got just that...faith. )

Muse: Denny Duquette
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Words: 579
im_a_catch: (Denny Duquette)
So, this is what cyberspace looks like, huh? Funny, I thought it’d be bigger.

Cut for possible spoilers )
im_a_catch: (Denny Duquette)
1) What is one thing you have learned from your past?

He was watching her again.

It was just plain ridiculous how delicious it felt to just *watch* Izzie walk past his room, but goddamn if it wasn’t as wicked and wonderful as sneaking out to see KISS play in concert when he was sixteen. Back then, he’d been smoking in the boy’s room, feeling up girls on Lover’s Lane...and letting it all slip by completely unnoticed.

Now he was leering at pretty blonde interns and couldn’t believe his good luck.

So much of his past was spent taking simple, insignificant, glorious pleasures for granted, and now he was chained to his hospital bed by tubes and wires, marveling at the fact apple juice could taste so good sipped out of a wine glass with Izzie smiling at him, or that Scrabble was probably the greatest game ever invented when he was waiting for her to use a quasi-dirty word, or what a rebellious charge it was to watch her petite little frame whiz back and forth outside the halls in a blur of delicate, surgical blue and labcoat white limbs, and know that she’d be in later to see him.

She’d be there to keep him company and take care of her patient, and reward him with those moments that lived in her eyes between flirtatious jokes ...those stolen seconds when he was healthy and strong again, when she saw the man and not the ruined heart.

In those moments, he could almost feel his pulse beating in his veins with the steady, sure, life-giving rhythm he’d never appreciated before he got sick.

He’d learned what a large part of life the small things really were...and right now, the smallest thing wasn’t only the largest part of his life...

...she was swiftly becoming one of the most important.


2) Describe a dream that you've had. How did the dream make you feel?

Me? I dream about everything your average red-blooded transplant candidate dreams about...big money, new hearts, and various other indulgences which are more than a little on the X-rated side, so bein’ that I’m a gentleman I won’t go there.

All right, you want the truth? Bein’ stuck in this goddamn hospital, there’s only one dream I ever have anymore. Keeps me awake a lotta nights...I know, bad thing to do, lose rest when your own heart can’t even support your body, but I can’t help it. It’s like the Grim Reaper’s tapping on my shoulder with that damn scythe, and I just can’t ignore him anymore.

I dream about an operating room...sorta outside my own body, watching myself on the table with Dr. Burke opening my chest up to fix something that’s wrong...I don’t know what he’s fixing, but I know there’s blood *everywhere.* Weird thing is, it’s not gushing out or anything, it’s...seeping. Like the life dribbling away from me each passing day, my blood is trickling out of every opening the surgeons have hacked into my body.

I finally realize it’s on the floor and spreading outward at the same time I realize the surgeons working on me ain’t actually doing anything. A cut here, an organ shoved to the side there...all they’re doing is cutting away at me while my life slowly slides out of me.

I always wake up with Dr. Burke’s voice in my ears, pronouncing the time of death...and wondering just how much longer it’s gonna be before that voice in my head becomes a reality.
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