A/N—Gonna take a moment to answer the reviews I got.:)

KHwhitelion—Ahhh! My scrubs buddy/) (What shall we call that? Scruddy? Ha!) So happy you liked the first chapter.^^ I hope this next one doesn't disappoint too

Cindylee99—I intended to continue this, no worries.:) And yes, other point of views are to come!

Duskanike5—aw wow, thank you!3 I relate to JD the most (I'm more day dreams than angst though lol) so it was easier to channel that into the fic./) Now Dr. Cox is a diff story…as you'll read here. *sigh* hope I didn't botch it up too bad.

HeadInTheClouds130—Ah, thanks!:D Same here, I got into Scrubs last summer. I grew up watching bits of it, but finally sat down and watched it to cheer myself up after some stuff went down at college. It helped loads and always cheers me up now. So happy I'm not the only one late to this party haha!

NotLoggedOn—I feel ya mate. If you happen back to this fic, you won't need to pretend yes? ^_^

Five hours.

It's been five hours since Newbie crashed. Twice.

I've been sitting here since he got wheeled back into the ICU. I've been sitting outside in this tiny waiting area in this tiny plastic chair with a-hap-so-lutely no armrests. I haven't stood up in all this time, not even to go trash another office like I usually do when I…get this way. I can't bear to leave this spot. It's like when I watch the Detroit Red Wings, and they're finally pulling through the game, and I just know they'll lose if I move an inch, if I stop my "let's win this!" vibe for even a second. Or like Gandhi, who I heard (because Carla feels the need to fill me in on info I re-heel-ly couldn't care less about) has a lucky 'do-rag' when he does surgery and ju-hust knows the odds are in his favor by having the stupid thing on.

My back is killing me and my legs are stiff and my shift was over hours ago. I check my watch—just great. My next shift starts in the next couple hours. Well, it's not like I'm eager to go home to She-Zilla and our spawn in the current mood I'm in.

So I don't move. I just stare at the floor, leaning on my knees and willing my hands to stop shaking. I can't really connect why my hands are shaking (not trembling!) He's there, just a few feet away, in that room. The observation window is right in front of me, and I've rarely taken my eyes off of it. I don't even know why I'm here—it's not like I can help him by sitting out here. The kid would probably want me sitting in there, beside him, but I can't do that. I can't trust myself, thinking of what almost happened tonight. I'm just waiting for something or someone to push me that next inch over the edge so I can release everything I've suppressed over the past agonizing long hours. Anger is how I deal with things, and I know that's not what Clarissa in there needs. It's like the time I punched him in the face after his dad died. Sure, I sorta' came through for him in the end, but I kinda' had to seeing on how his only other support was his older brother Dan, who at the time was soaking in a tub of questionable substance after being there so long until I forced him out of there. So, in all honesty, what kind of person am I to comfort Miss Sally Sunshine in there? That was always his job, not mine.

Why does he always want me to? Why is he doing this to me? To his friends? Why did he have to be shot in some random mugging? What are the odds, right outside this dump we label a hospital?

Stupid kid. I should nawt care like this!

I rub my face with a hand for the billionth time, hoping to keep sleep at bay for another hour or so. I then link my hands behind my head and just stare at Newbie in that small dark room, his monitors being the only thing keeping a steady glow on him. I stare until I see his chest heave up and down with his breath, slowly but surely. I let out my own breath I hadn't realized I'd held. My hands drop back to my knees, but my eyes stay locked on him.

Watching him in there, I can't help but think. I want to think y'know, but about anything other than how frail he looks. My Newbie may be a sensitive girly girl (Wait. Did I just refer to him as mine?...Nah), but he's tough as nails when it counts (not that I'd ever EVER ever say that one outloud). And seeing him there makes me feel things (ugh, "feel") I've tried to forget since Ben's death. So I thought of moments that never truly mattered before now.

The countless times he trailed behind me, alert to my whistles and withstanding of my rants. Him always picking up on my moods and the reasons behind them and trying to help. It was annoying, but it was more than anyone else had ever done for me. As I thought about it, I figured I spent most of my time with him at this blasted hospital despite claiming to avoid him at every possible moment. But I trusted him, and that was big for someone like me. I'd seen countless air-headed interns come and go through these halls over the years I'd been here, and not one had the heart he had. After all this time, he climbed the career ladder only when it was right to do so, played the "game" when he was sure he could do more good in this place because of it. And above all, for some reason even I didn't understand, Newbie thought I was the greatest thing since the discovery of penicillin.

Stupid misguided kid.

I heard rushing steps and I blearily looked away from Sandra's room to whoever dared break the silence of the hallway at this unholy hour of the morning.

Gandhi.

Carla was right on his heels, and before I could run away they cornered me at the chair. Well, Carla did. Gandhi pressed up against the window of Newbie's room, eyes for only him. He seemed scared just to go in there, like disturbing anything could make the kid's heart fail—again.

I knew how he felt.

"Perry, what-? Have you been sitting here all this time?" Carla asked me, eyes widening with shock I didn't understand. Am I that much of a jerk that it's impossible to believe I'd sit here waiting for Leah there to stabilize? (Because if so my efforts have not gone in vain…but still…) Carla wasn't looking into my eyes though (she and Newbie were about the only people in this place who dared to). I felt my brow crinkle and I can definitely feel the exhaustion setting in as I haven't had enough strength left to start on a rant. And boy did I want to, it was my fail safe—my defense mechanism.

Gandhi unglued his face from the window, but left a hand on there as he turned to look at me. Like a lifeline to his boyfriend Candy in there. But I guess he sensed the tone of worry in his wife's voice that I hadn't registered in my haze of confusion and sleep deprivation. His eyes shot out of his head it seemed as they trailed all over me below the shoulders. What in the-?

Before I could ask what in the world Baldy was finding so fascinating about my physique the scalpel jockey gasped, covered his mouth and shot down the hall and into the bathroom.

"What's the matter with him?" I rasped out as I gazed down the hall where he ran, not recognizing my own voice. Ugh, I sounded worse than Bobbo after yelling at interns for a whole hour. Carla's eyes softened, not a good sign when it's directed at me.

"Y-your coat….and scrubs…." Carla sounded awfully tearful. I looked back at her. My clothes? What about them? I wondered. She was gesturing back to where Gandhi was staring and I looked down and all I saw was red.

Red everywhere.

I shot up from my seat, my legs numb but I didn't care at the moment. I didn't…I didn't realize I still had these all on…and how much…how much he bled on me.

I had Newbie's blood all over me.

I wrenched the coat off in a wild panic and threw it to the floor. I was breathing in haggard breaths and clutched my hair, delirious and in shock. His blood was vibrant and red as rubies, and stood starkly against my bleached white lab coat. Speckles of blood danced all about it like stars in the sky. Carla choked on a sob and picked it up, tears falling down her cheeks.

"I…I didn't know…" I managed to explain. She nodded, somehow understanding.

"I'll take that." Said a new voice, deep and sorrowful which somewhere in my mind was familiar. We turned and saw Janitor standing there, left hand thrust into a pocket and right hand extended for the coat.

"Wha—why would you want it?!" It took me all of two seconds to come to a conclusion. "You sick sonava-!" I finally found it, my release. I lunged for him but Carla jumped in front of me, cutting me off. Lurch didn't have the decency to look guilty or frightened. He just stood there looking blank.

"Stop it Perry! He's trying to help!" Carla shouted.

"He wants a souvenir!" I yelled, trying to get around her. "Don't think I don't know how you pick on Newbie! I never stopped it because he never got hurt! But I never thought you'd stoop to—" I ranted hoarsely but Janitor finally spoke up.

"I want to clean it, Doc." He replied as casually as I ever heard him.

I blinked. Carla sighed.

"It's the least I can do…for Scooter." He continued, quieter and shifting his footing. His head was down and shoulders hunched. Carla bundled up my coat and gave it to Janitor and patted his arm in comfort and he left swiftly, finding purpose in his new mission.

Carla turned back to me wearily. "Are you done?"

I grumbled, rubbing my eyes with more force than needed, but the twinge of pain helped me focus on something other than Newbie across the way…his blood still all over my scrubs top…

"Well, I need to go to JD's apartment to pick up some of his stuff since he'll be waking up soon. I'd like it if you came and helped me."

I looked down at her, and I didn't even want to say no this time. Anything to distract myself.

"You can get changed there, since his apartment is closer than ours or yours." She was already walking away and I found myself following her…like Newbie once followed me.

I need to stop thinking things like that. What am I, a four year old girl?

"What about Newbie's Gemini twin?" I found myself asking tiredly, curious how he was handling this. Not so good by the looks of it.

"He wanted to stay and take over watching Bambi." Carla replied and my brow furrowed. Taking over implied I had been currently 'watching over Bambi', which was SO nawt true.

"I wasn't—"

"Don't give me that crap right now, okay? You were."

"But-!"

"Why can't you admit you care about him? Huh? After all this time, after this!" She gestured wildly about us as we cleared the doors of the hospital front. I glared around, trying to ignore her and looking to see if whoever shot Newbie was still around so I could kill him with my bare hands.

"Are you even listening?" I heard Carla say to me as we got into her car.

"No." I simply replied, and slipped down into the seat to catch a few Z's in the few minutes it took to get to Newbie's apartment. I hadn't been to it yet, not even Carla or Blondie. But Gandhi had apparently given thorough instructions so off we went.

I was just eager to get my Newbie-blood soaked clothes off of me and burned at the nearest convenience. My hands continued to shake slightly, in anticipation I told myself.

The first time I woke up I saw bright lights all around me. For a split second a thrill of fear pierced my tummy as I thought I had finally been abducted by aliens and that everything on X-Files was true. Darn you Scully, the truth was out there!

But then I heard Dr. Cox's voice. And that wasn't right at all because of all people to have a fighting chance against aliens, it would without a doubt be him. I tried asking him what was going on but then I heard a horrible gurgling and realized that it was me making that sound. I gasped but then felt a firm hand on my arm gripping me tightly, as if I'd slip away into nothingness. At least, I felt like I would.

"JD…d-don't you do that again, alright?" said a voice that sounded like Dr. Cox, but he never called me by name. And never stuttered.

And don't do what?

"Gave me a scare there, kid."

What?

I apparently voiced this as a gurgle and the hand tightened a bit, helping me feel relaxed. I'm a sensie after all, and I'll admit physical touch always helps me.

"Don't talk, Newb. You'll be fine. I've got ya."

I then decided this was just a very weird but very nice dream. But the lights abruptly winked out of my vision and I blacked out, a sharp pain around my heart before nothingness. Echoes of Dr. Cox swearing and in a panic I had never heard from him before. But I had drifted away once I registered that.

The second time I woke up, I was sure I was alone.

But then I heard murmurs of a voice. It annoyed me because I wanted to keep sleeping; I was having this really awesome dream where I was a ninja and Dr. Cox was James Bond. As my mind surfaced from sleep faster and faster, my dream slipped away and a steady pain replaced the comforts of unconsciousness. I tried to move but I felt several things attached to me making it hard to so I gave up on that. I was confused why I hurt so bad. Why there was something in my mouth pushing air into my lungs. I was too weak and tired to care. It took me a while to open my eyes but as I did I found myself laying in a hospital bed, in ICU if the wallpaper was any clue. I blinked rapidly as the whole incident with Mr. Robber came back to me full force and my newfound grief and depression with it. Great, now I was useless as a doctor too. Dr. Cox was going to tear me a new one once he found out.

I heard a sudden rushed stomping and it faded away down the hall and I instinctively turned to see Dr. Cox out there through the window. I gained more coherence at the sight of him, but not much. I must be on heavy meds to not be shivering in fear at the soon-to-be Rant Heard 'Round the World. But he never came in, he just stared down the hall. Carla was there too. Then he looked down at himself as Carla said something and I squinted to see him covered in someone's blood. That was definitely a weird sight. Man, he'll be even crankier now after staying over-shift for whoever caused that much blood to splatter on him. Poor guy probably didn't make it by the amount there on the scrubs front and coat.

I started to fade away again to sweet patterns of REM when I jolted a bit from a sudden shout,

"Stop it Perry! He's trying to help!"

And Dr. Cox lunging for someone I couldn't see as the window is only so big.

"He wants a souvenir!" Cox yelled. "Don't think I don't know how you pick on Newbie!" Oh whoa what? How'd I get involved? Who is he talking to? I felt like I should know, but it took too much effort to try and figure it out.

"I never stopped it because he never got hurt! But I never thought you'd stoop to—" Someone cut him off there.

"I want to clean it, Doc."

This was a bit too surreal for ol' Gizmo here (I WILL make that nickname happen!) and my body decided thinking was too much to handle so I conked out then and there.

I was happy to forget anything and everything and let sleep take me away.