AN- I have spare time :D Yeah, this is a pretty big deal. Although I'm not a particularly good writer on here, it feels good to write and I have missed it. Music mostly controls my fics and I have had an odd liking to Rihanna's "Russian Roulette". So you can maybe see where this is going. Fairly short, but enjoy regardless.
This fic might be hard to understand, but I have another AN at the end as an explanation.
Disclaimer - I do not own Scrubs. If I did, trust me, you guys would know. Oh and this is Slash. My friends hate slash but I don't give a frick.
Say a prayer to yourself. He says close your eyes, sometimes it helps.
Thump. Thu-thump.
Thump. Thu-thump.
Thump. Thu-thump.
Usually when JD closed his eyes he could see rainbows and many bright and pretty colours, but for some reason all he could see at that moment was red. A bright, almost blinding red. Escaping the colour would have to include opening his eyes. He wasn't sure what was worse. With a deep, shaking breath he slowly raised his eyes lids and stared at the plain table in below.
The young doctor frowned as he peered down at his hands. The shaking would have to be stopped. It seemed crucial that he didn't let off how terrified he truly was.
Not that it would really have mattered as the atmosphere had a tense, almost scared feeling to it. All wide eyes were on the table at the centre of the room. The table at which JD and four others were seated around. Normally John Dorian would have basked in the attention, then wasn't the best time however. Not when he was considering either passing out or running away in fright.
He totally blamed peer pressure for the situation. It wasn't something he had ever wanted to or considered doing. His life was full of enough drama, thrills and adrenaline. He worked in a hospital after all. The more he thought about what he was about to do, the denser he felt.
JD could defiantly think of at least a million better ways to spend the time, more than three quarters included Perry. Smart Perry, who didn't give into peer pressure and risk so much for so little. The doctor cast a quick thought as to whether Dr Cox would be there, but he doubted it. Perry had been ballistic when he had mentioned what he was doing- to put it mildly. Still, it would have made him feeling marginally better to know Perry was there in-case he was...
Clink. Click. Pssh. Breath of relief.
The game had begun and the odds of him being the unlucky one had just risen. 1 in 8 seemed a lot better than what it was now. JD bit his lip and closed his eyes once more. Controlling his fear was getting harder, his heart felting like it was trying to fight it's way out his body. He was pretty sure people could see it beating through his chest. Unfortunately, this was one of the times he couldn't back out. No one to help him now. Perry was pissed off, Carla was probably in the crowd, Elliot wa- actually he had no idea where Elliot was and Turk was in the same predicament as him.
Actually it was Turks turn.
JD didn't dare open his eyes. Seeing the distress on his best friends face would only make his own distress and panic worse. The table was vibrating, JD was sure it was, along with the shakes of Turks legs. The young doctor squeezed his eyes tighter as he heard the sound of Chris picking up the metal off the table. His heart almost stopped.
Clink. Click. Pssh. "Hell yeah!"
A small smile graced John's features before he was struck with the realisation that it was now, in fact, his turn.
"Dude. You okay?" Turks voice sounded distant to JD's ears. He inwardly laughed at the stupidity of Chocolate Bear's question but did not voice his opinion. Instead he nodded his head stiffly and opened his eyes, not trusting his voice at that moment in time.
He glanced at the shining evil in front of him almost numbly. Sweat was rapidly pouring down his body, he could feel it making his shirt and scrubs stick to his back. His arm felt heavy as he reached across the table to grab at the risk. As the cool metal touched his warm and sweaty palm, he winced. The contrast of the metal and his skin made him shudder.
As he lifted it, he felt his stomach drop and pure, raw panic mixed with terror started constricting his chest. His heart felting like it was literally going at a million beats per second.
Clink. Click. Pssh. Safe – for this round at least.
Despite the fact that he knew that he would possibly have to do that again if someone wasn't caught out before his next turn, he slumped in relief. Immediately he thrust the offending object on the table and laid his head on his arms. Peer pressure really really sucked and as per usual, Perry had been right. He really couldn't do this, but he couldn't quit either.
The game was confusing he thought as the next person took their sweet time. It was weird to be both dreading and desperately hoping that someone else was the unlucky one. Who the hell had came up with this shitty game anyway?
Vaguely, he noticed the audience were pretty quiet. He wasn't going to bother look however. Much more pressing problems.
Clink. Click. Pssh. "Winner five!"
No one had lost. Bugger. Or yay? He wasn't sure yet...
Clink. Click. Pssh. Even larger sigh of relief.
JD frowned to himself. It had gotten back to Turk already and the odds were getting pretty high that someone was going to lose very soon. He could taste a metallic substance in his mouth and soon realised that it was his own blood from chewing his lip.
It was seconds before it happened that JD realised it was going to happen. The second the black surgeon picked it up he knew. It was like the air had grown colder. He winced and closed his eyes.
Clink. Click... Bang.
John yelped almost silently as a few drops of a sticky substance splattered onto his cheek. The room, as one, gasped and grew still. The young, shocked doctor did not dare open his eyes. It was over. He was safe. Well... his hair was safe anyway.
After a few seconds had passed the stunned silence was broken by someone giggling. JD cracked an eye open and joined the person. Turk, still frozen in place- can raised, was covered in orange soda from head to waist.
"...Dude. These were my best scrubs!"
Turk losing was the best result they could have had really. He had no hair to get covered in soda. If JD had been the one to- he shuddered at the thought. His hair would have been ruined. He raised shakily from the table after casting a sympathetic glance to Turk. He would remind him of the prize later when he was less covered in soda. Besides, Carla would be over to comfort him within seconds.
"Newbie." A gruff voice made him smile. Perry had came after all.
"Dr Cox." JD grinned, unable to stop himself, "I thought you weren't coming?"
"And miss seeing whether you had to get your girly hair cut off due to an explosion of crappy hospital soda? Not likely Rihanna." he paused and looked at the still pale JD, "Are you okay Samantha? Something tells me that you totally over-dramatised that and made yourself freak out."
JD glared at him. Panicking over the potential loss of his hair was not being over-dramatic. Besides, Russian Roulette was scary not matter how non-lethal the soda version was.
"It's your own fault really Newbie. I told you nawt to play some girly kid version of a just plain stupid game for Beezlebob's amusement. And no JD, a months worth of hospital pudding is just na-wt worth it."
The grin on JD's face as he remembered the other part of his prize made Perry want to smirk. Stupid kid, scaring himself silly for pudding and pride. Though, if he were being honest, he was gl-
"I'm here. Where's the gun?" a depressed voice interrupted Perry's thoughts. Carla looked up from comforting a soggy Turk.
"Ted, it's over. And they weren't using a gun, it was soda."
"Awwwww, damn it."
AN- Still not sure if I like this. But yeah, Russian roulette is a game in which a gun is loaded with one bullet and all the other chambers are empty and players take it turn to put the gun to their head and pull the trigger. You play until someone is shot. The soda version is the same idea, but players are given two cans of soda or so each and one has been shaken up to the extreme before the game begins.