Okay, so I brain stormed, and decided on a general plan for this story, so it will be continued. (I know: hallelujah! lol…) but, keep in mind that I'm lazy, and a master of procrastination so if you guys want this to go places, please keep the reviews coming to keep me in check, okay? ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own Scrubs… that belongs to greater people…


-Chapter 1: Your Fault-

It's getting cold. Really cold.

But I'm not exactly in the mood to get down from here, so I just pull my long-sleeved under shirt farther down to cover my freezing fingers.

It's one of the coldest days so far this winter… what are the chances, huh? I come out here to think, and it just happens to be freezing. Life really is out to get me lately.

Who am I kidding? I've got a great job (even if it is stressful, depressing, dangerous, and takes up literally all of my social-life), great friends (who hate me, betray me, ignore me, and think of me as a burden), and a loving family (a dead dad, a mom who never really cared much, a flaky brother, and a racist grandma.). Yeah. Life's good… To every one but me.

But hell, right now I've got: me, my iPod, Cher, the quiet roof, and the cold. And really, I think that's all I need right now. Anything else and I think I'd go into overdrive. I might just… stop.

Friends right now are a lost concept on me. To have someone that would care for me unconditionally, and not judge me, hide secrets from me, or make fun of me? Wow. That would be just great.

But right now, I don't have anyone like that, do I?

No…

The wind blows some more. It's getting colder… the clouds, darker. It looks like it'll rain… it hasn't rained here in a long time. Is that supposed to be a sign? Am I supposed to cry? …I haven't cried in a long time either… but somehow, I don't feel like crying… I feel like yelling… I feel like punching someone. I feel like letting my anger out…

But that's a useless concept to linger on, because I know I never will. It's not how I deal with things. I bottle them up inside, until I find someone, then I pop the lid, and spew it all over them in a whiney, child-like way. But… now I can't do that. So… I guess I'll just bottle it up… and forget it.

It's really all I can do.

I should go. My shift ended a while ago, and it's really cold. I'll be lucky not to get frostbite.

…but… I still can't manage to leave. My legs just won't pull themselves back over the ledge and hold me up. (Not like they ever did that before. I usually had to tell them to do it…. Maybe I should try that approach?)

But… I don't really want to go… I keep thinking one of them will get worried, or feel guilty, and one of them will come looking for me, and I won't be here, so they'll think I'm okay, and they'll leave.

And even through all of this, I still can't stand the thought of them leaving…

I can hear someone open the door to the roof. I can hear them hesitate… they sigh… it sounds like they're turning around… good, I don't really want some orderly smoking next to me right now. And I'm not in the mood for small talk with some nurse… and I don't feel I'm the right person to stop Ted from killing himself right now…

But… they're coming this way. I can hear the roof's pebble-covered asphalt crunching beneath shoes. The rustle of a coat tells me that it's a doctor. Great. I can only hope it's Colonel Doctor… I don't think he can speak English…

"Geez Bethany, are you trying to freeze to death, or were you hoping to see prince charming walking by, and were hoping he would think you were a damsel in distress, and try to save you?"

Dang it. Really, what are the chances??? What is he doing up here? He has absolutely no reason to be here!

"What are you doing up here, Dr. Cox?" I can barley manage to conceal the impatience and irritation in my voice. I try to cover it with a tired curiosity.

"Carla saw your car in the parking lot, and she got worried. She was leaving, so she pestered me in to finding your sorry ass." It was pretty cold this morning, so I had decided to borrow my neighbor's car to get to work. Ms. Dent is an 80-something-year-old widow with Alzheimer's, so I doubt she'll remember having the old Honda, let alone letting me borrow it. It can be a few hours late.

"And really Newbie, I have neither the time nor patience to let you cry on my shoulder while you tell me about your "guy-problems", so how about we don't, and say we did, mmm'kay?"

That wasn't exactly the meanest thing he'd ever said to me, but for some reason it... it's just really pissing me off…

Suddenly, my legs do as they are told, and I find my self swinging around to face him. My feet land smoothly, and pull my weight up so I'm standing, all in one graceful, fluid movement. I take three steps, and I'm suddenly very close to his face. I don't know where I'm getting this sudden burst of bravery, but hell, I'll run with it…

"…you know what? Okay." I know, not exactly the most intimidating thing ever, but I'm just getting started: "You go ahead. Make fun of me for needing help. Tease me because I needed someone- anyone- to give me a pep-talk, or a pat on the back. GO AHEAD! But you know what? When one day, you turn around, and JD, or Bambie, or Vanilla-Bear, or Julie isn't there??! You can just go ahead, and blame yourselves for it!! When one day, you need me, and I'm not there??! THAT'S YOUR FAULT!"

I stand there only a second more to gauge his reaction. He looks surprised, I note as I storm away, mindful to accentuate the fact that I want as far away as I can get by completely avoiding contact. Probably more from the volume than the actual words

After all, why would he care if I wasn't there?


That, folks, is what I call foreshadowing. Lol. If any of you can guess what I have in store for JD, I'll… well… mention you in the author's note of the next chapter… I know, exciting, huh?

I'll give you a hint: what causes it was mentioned in this chapter.

Also, I gave a shout out to Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in here, so see if you can spot that…

LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!! BUAHAHA!

(Review please… :D)