Hi! I want to thank all my reviewers yet again. I wish you all ice-creams.

This next chapter is in Turk's POV.

There are many moments I'll never forget. Like the day I graduated from collage, my first day here, or my seventh birthday party when I discovered I was allergic to coconut and that I wanted to be a doctor. Most of these moments are spread out over time, but that day, in just twenty-four hours, many unforgettable things happened. None of them were the good kind of unforgettable, though.

Emergency surgery. Removing a bullet. Unstable patient.

That's a big thing for a resident, but I had been having a rather good day for surgery... my best, actually.

So, Dr. Wen asked me to do it.

"Hell yeah," I said.

"Then we've got to go now." We both ran towards the OR. I imagined it was in slow motion, like JD and I always practiced.

We got there, and we quickly prepared. "Where's the patient?" I asked, puzzled. The operating table was empty.

"She's almost here," he replied, and just at that moment, the doors burst open, and in came a nurse, pushing a gurney.

She pulled it over to us, put the patient on the table.

I looked down, saw the patient. From somewhere, Dr. Wen's voice was asking me what was wrong. We needed to get started right then. But the patient, she looked like Carla. Blood was on her face, her neck, but most of the blood was soaking the front of her scrubs. That'll stain, I thought.

Wait... Emergency surgery. Removing a bullet. Unstable patient. That was talking about... Carla?

It all sounded to real, so real it was fake. Stuff like this happens all the time. It doesn't happen to Carla.

"Chris? You okay?"

"That." My voice cracked; I had to stop. "That's my wife," I managed to whisper. That's one of those moments I'll never forget.

The nurse who brought the patient (not Carla, not Carla) in guided me out of the room and sat me down in a chair.

I guess she left.

Because at some point, she wasn't there, and I was sitting, listening to a steady beep. Normally, family members aren't aloud to wait as close to the room as I was, but no one had bothered taking me out any farther out of the area, so when that beep, that one I had started to recognize solely as a flat-lining monitor, started, I heard it.

I won't forget that moment because I didn't move.

It was Carla. I liked to think I was her superhero.

I know I made the right choice. Bursting in there, trying to help... I'd have just gotten in the way, in the state I was in. Part of me knew that then, too, but that doesn't stop the guilt. It never does.

That guilt wasn't too bad, though, because she was eventually stabilized.

The surgery went successfully.

They decided to move her to the ICU.

I ran with the gurney, trying not to look at it's occupant. When we burst out of the doors, I saw JD, standing around, trying to look occupied, but failing, mostly because he was crying his eyes out. I'll always remember that moment, too.

I decided leave to the patient, who I was still refusing to call Carla, for a little while. There was nothing I could do for her. I trotted over to where JD was standing and fingering an empty needle. It was huge, like the one we used to drain that woman's stomach fluid on our first day. Before he even saw me, I wrapped him up in a huge hug. He hugged back tightly and laid his head on my shoulder.

I bet we looked rather strange, standing, hugging in the middle of the hallway for as long as we did, with him holding that giant needle, but for once I honestly didn't care. I don't think I'll ever forget that moment or that feeling, either.

I don't know why, but JD paged Dr. Cox. Why would Cox care?

JD's fingers fumbled over the buttons. out of surgery, he typed.

I was sitting by the patient's, I mean Carla's, bed , clutching her hand firmly, stroking it with my thumb. With my other hand, I grasped my cross necklace. I thought about praying, but couldn't think of what to say. So I just pretended to pray.

Here goes another one of those darn moments: Elliot walked in with tears streaming down her face. She got one look at Carla and ran in the other direction.

And, just the very second she left, the patient went into cardiac arrest.

And, right then, JD wasn't JD. He was just her scared friend.

I wasn't her husband. I was her doctor.

Carla wasn't Carla. She was the patient.

I grabbed the paddles, her friend grabbed his pager.

I did the normal routine. For just that unforgettable moment, this was a patient who just happened to look like Carla. But, after a while, even the part of me that was still her husband knew it was to late.

I tossed the paddles down, down on the floor. They pulled the whole crash cart down with them.

This may seem weird, but at that moment, my mouth moved on it's own. "Time of death," it said, "Three P.M."

I covered my mouth. I didn't mean to say that.

I reached down, kissed her lightly on her forehead, and pulled her sheet up over her head.

Dr. Cox came in. He didn't even seem to notice me or JD. He just walked over to the window that overlooks the parking lot and sighed. With what looked like some effort, he dragged himself away from the window and left the room, kicking the doorframe as he left.

JD threw his pager across the room. We both collapsed on the floor at the same time, leaning against opposite walls.

I leaned my head back against my wall. Then, on impulse, I grabbed my cross necklace, the one I'd had since I was a kid, and ripped it off. I threw it across the room, just like JD did with his pager moments earlier. It skided to a stop in a patch of glittering sunlight.

And that is one more moment I will never be able to forget. Never.

So... review please.