Scrubs

His Short-Lived Story

I'm writing a story about a kid that gets leukemia. And, I thought I might write a story about what happened in the room the day of Ben's death...

It's not very good, not very original. But, I felt my favorite guest star deserved an explanation.

Disclaimer: I do not own Scrubs.

It wasn't my fault... I'd told him that plenty times! What was his deal? And standing, watching him storm away from me only pissed me off... But, I couldn't yell. I couldn't scream at him...

A) Dr. Cox quite frankly scares the crap out of me.
B) He was hurting enough. Even if he wouldn't admit it, I could tell.

Both of them, reasonable answers. Both of them true. Choose your favorite.

So here's what happened. Here's how it went down, how it fallowed through, how I saw it happen. Here's His Short-Lived Story.

Click!

I blinked. "God, Ben, still with the pictures?" I asked.

"I told you," he said, grinning and pulling the Polaroid out of his old camera. "Til the day I die."

I smiled, rolling my eyes. "Sure, sure... C'mon, sit up. I gotta check your heart rate."

Strolling up to him, a unwrapped my stethoscope from my neck and put the ear buds in my ears. I pressed the opposite end to Ben's chest, at the section where his heart was.

BumBumBump... BumBumBump...

Okay, that wasn't how a heart beat should sound... But, then again, it was normal for a leukemia patient. It would fix itself, I was sure.

"Ooh, chilly!" Ben yelled, faking a shiver.

I laughed, sliding the stethoscope to the middle of his chest. "Okay, take a deep breath."

"You got it, boss," he said, planting fists on his hips. He gasped in a breath, dramatically.

"Now, exhale." He fallowed directions.

Hmmm... I stood up straight. "Have you been having trouble breathing lately, Ben?" I asked.

His eyebrows shot up, then lowered. "Not really," he said. "Well, sometimes at night. Is that bad?"

I shook my head. "Probably not. It's a normal complication. Has it been happening for awhile."

Ben half shrugged. "Nah, not really. It started kinda towards the end of the tour."

"Oh. Then you should be completely fine. There's nothing to worry about. But, I do want you to stay in here for abit. I'm super swamped, but I'm not done with your check up yet. So, just hang tight, okay?"

He saluted me. "Ey-ey, captain!" he said, dramatically.

What else could I do? I just laughed and turned, walking out the room.

I checked on every patient that I had to, and they all seemed to be doing fine. I did stick around for a little bit longer than I needed to with each, but that's something I always did. That's just me... I didn't know I'd come back and see him... like that...

I stepped into Ben's room. "Hey Ben what's-"

Okay, stop. No, don't stop. Just slow down... 'Cause that's what happened. Everything went ridiculously slow.

"Oh no." I stared down. Ben lay on the floor, eyes half closed. His breathing was irregular and he shook every once and awhile.

"Holy shit!" I stuck my head out the door. "I need nurses in here! Hurry up! And a defibrillator! Go, go!"

I feel to me knees beside him, beginning CPR. Sooner than I expected, Carla and another nurse were on the floor next to me.

I presses agents his chest. "One, two, three. Give him oxygen. One, two, three. Oxygen. One, two..."

It was too late... The defibrillators came too late. My warning came too late.

I took the camera from around his neck. "Day kinda came to soon, huh...?"

It wasn't my fault! I told him I was swamped! He could have stayed for fifteen fucking minutes to make sure his best friend lived. A clown for a party wasn't that important. His son was gonna have plenty more birthdays. Ben wasn't...

So, he could have done Ben's check up, He could have saved his life. He didn't have to yell at me...

But, he didn't... And he didn't... And he did.

Well, there it is. That's what happened behind the scenes. That's what you didn't see. That's His Short-Lived Story.