Author's note: I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed! If I didn't respond to you, I'm very sorry, but I probably just forgot to, no personal offense or anything… I'm just forgetful. :D

On another note: one reviewer mentioned that I use ellipses ('…') a lot. And that's true, but this story is meant to be in JD's mind and in his mind, he pauses a lot, to think. I don't know about you , but I'm silent a lot in my mind. (Is that a bad thing??) But, thank you a lot to that reviewer, for the tips, and I did try to cut back on them this chapter.

Also, it would seem that no one reviewer got both things right, but IrishHatdance13 got the Hitchhiker's Guide reference (I love the book): Ms. Dent, and PaulMcCartney1 got the other one, which is: …well, you'll just have to see this chapter won't you?? ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own Scrubs, or for that matter any other publicly recognizable thing mentioned in this chapter (although, I do love all of them…)

Oh, also, a warning: there is some graphic material in this chapter. Could be gruesome if you have a really awesome imagination.


-Chapter 2: I Shouldn't Be Alive-

I didn't pass anyone on my way out of the hospital (besides Colonel Doctor. Oh, and it turns out he knows my name, I should learn his name…) so I got out without any hassle.

The temperature, coming from inside the hospital to outside, plummeted considerably. I shivered, and quickened my pace. The sooner I got to Ms. Dent's car, the sooner I got home to a nice cup of hot cocoa, and a Sanford and Son marathon.

Except that, I don't have any appliances yet, like a TV or a microwave, (I've been living on Wendy's and hospital coffee… not a very good diet, I have to say…) and even if I did, I apparently don't have electricity yet. Which also means, I'm going home to a heater-less, empty apartment.

Great.

I finally reach the old rust-colored, box-shaped Honda, and pull out the keys. It doesn't have an alarm, or automatic locks, or anything like that. Apparently Ms. Dent is very trusting. (That or she just doesn't care if the crappy old thing gets stolen.) It takes me a minute to jam the keys in the stupid lock, jiggle it a little, and finally manage to turn the key the right way, before the door becomes unlocked. By then, I'm passed shivering, and probably already hypothermic or something, it's just my luck that the door sticks.

It takes me another two minutes to wiggle (more like pound) the door open, and fall into the uncomfortably small space that is the inside of the car. I close the door (with much more ease then I had getting it open) and turn the car on, immediately turning on the heater.

Except it won't turn on. It just sputters and dies.

The car is old. It takes along time to heat up. That's all, is what I keep telling myself. But, after ten minutes, I figure I'll be warmer once I start driving.

That, ladies and gentlemen, was my first mistake.

I'm only about a block from the hospital, when my stomach starts growling. I decide that I'll stop at the Wendy's not far from here.

That was my second mistake.

It's a pretty new place, built only a few months ago, but either people don't know it's here yet, or people just really don't want to go there.

I am the only person who goes there. And I'm not exaggerating. After two days, the drive-thru woman (and the counter man) knew my full name (how? I still don't know), order, where I work, and most of my personal issues. (Hey, when you're lonely, you'll go to anyone.)

Anyways, it was pretty barren over there. That's the only thing over there beside the 91 freeway. That's actually the only way to get there. It's built in front of a large ravine… a very creepy ravine.

But, I go there to think, so off I went.

I have to admit, I might not have been obeying EVERY traffic law, (I mean really: who puts their hands at ten and two? How uncomfortable.) but it's not like I was driving with my big-toe, while reading, and texting, and playing a Gameboy, and trying to figure out a Sudoku puzzle. I was as focused on the practically empty 91 freeway as anyone can be expected to be at eight o'clock, after a fifteen hour shift, without anybody else there.

Unfortunately, there was someone there.

The freeway was placed on the stretch of land almost right next to the ravine. For some reason, they failed to put up any railing in the few feet between the freeways asphalt, and the practically bottom-less ravine. I was in the particular lane (so I could take the exit out to the delicious Wendy's) next to the ravine.

That would be my third mistake.

The next thing I know, there are head light's shining in my eyes. The head-lights, unfortunately, are not shining in on me from the rear-view window, as I would like to hope.

What someone was doing going the wrong way on a freeway, I probably will never know- not that it really matters, that is.

At the time, I didn't really feel like playing chicken, but, my mind didn't realize that right, is not always right.

I pulled the wheel sharply to the right.

That would be my final mistake.

I plow through those very few feet that separate me and the ravine in a matter of seconds, and soon find that the car is no longer plowing through anything but air.

As I watch the what little ground I could see- the ground illuminated by the two different colored and dull head-light's of the Honda- for some reason, no deep, romantic, or epiphacal thoughts ran through my mind.

The only thing I could think was:

Thank god Ms. Dent has Alzheimer's.


Everyone's told you over and over again

You're making the biggest mistake of your life

Everyone's told you

Everyone you left behind

You're making the biggest mistake of your life

You've made the biggest mistake of your life…

Waking up has never been one of my favorite things- what with the morning breath, bed head, and other assortments of problems.

Waking up at the bottom of a ravine, in a cold Honda, which is currently lying on its side, isn't any better.

The first thing I noticed was that the radio was on- Before, I couldn't get it to turn on for the life of me- and the song that was playing did not lose its irony on me.

The second thing I noticed was the stabbing pain everywhere I could possible imagine.

The pain was horrible.

So I screamed.

The scream- after a few minutes- faded into a horrible sob, wracked with just about as much pain as I could transfer in to the scream.

I heard it echo back at me- the scream, that is- the only other thing it could reach besides the walls of the ravine.

I whimpered for a few minutes, allowing myself some time before I figured out WHAT THE HELL HURT SO MUCH.

I allowed two minutes –and two minutes only- to whimper in my pain. After, I composed myself, and took the plunge.

Am I allowed to add one more mistake to that list?

Looking down, I almost threw up. Not that it would do me any good.

The ravine, it would seem, is not completely devoid of water. (is it still a ravine then?) A small trickle seems to be running through it. It would also seem that the car landed in it. And my face/abdomen had also landed in the freezing water. So, that led me to believe that throwing up, would only make it literally come back at me.

But, I suppose that is beside the point, for now, anyways.

I looked down at myself, and saw one of the most disgusting things I've probably ever seen. And I'm a doctor.

I couldn't stand to look at it, but I had to. I became clinically detached. I acted as if it was anyone else but me. (And right now there are a lot of people I would like to see this happen to.)

Let's start with the least disgusting:

Definitely some bruised ribs- some pretty harsh black and blues were showing from where the fall had caused gravity to pull up my shirt.

From the sharp shooting pains in my skull, the vertigo, and nausea, I was pretty sure I had a concussion. (Though I wasn't sure if the nausea was because of the concussion or my physical state)

Now on to more disgusting:

It looks like the Honda's windshield broke when I hit the ground. Not that I could tell in the dark- oh no. I could only tell because of the three (rather large) shards of glass sticking out of me. One in my stomach, one in my leg (how did that happen?), and one in my right arm. (The left was glass-less)

Speaking of my left arm, it would seem that something was coming out of it, that wasn't supposed to be. I tried to move to get a better view, but a pain shot through me.

For a few seconds, I don't know what happened. I think I might have blacked out. But, when I woke, I could see my arm. Unfortunately.

The ulna was protruded harshly from my forearm. A compound fracture. It could get infected, my mind says somewhere. But I was too busy looking at the left side of my body, which I could now partially see, thanks to my movement.

My arm wasn't the only thing with a compound fracture. One of my ribs (the fifth one?) was sticking out threateningly at me.

Well, that's not supposed to happen.

Duh.

But, my clinical mind forces me to move on. I look down farther. I think my right leg (the one with the glass in it) is dislocated. I look at my left leg. Nothing seems to be wrong.

I dare to move it- just slightly. Nothing hurts, except for a small twinge in my ribs.

Huh. Looks like I made it out with one part of me still intact.

I manage to smile in triumph, (which helped me notice that I have a cracked lip, and a broken cheek bone) when I notice something.

It looks kinda white-ish outside.

It takes me a full two minutes to know why:

It was snowing.

Damn.

My smile faded, and I can't seem to concentrate for a while. Then I hear the radio:

Baby its cold outside

Brr its cold….

It's cold out there

Stupid radio.

I shiver, and pain shots through me. I barley manage to suppress a scream. Not that it matters, no one can hear me.

I'm alone…

Instead of concentrating on the pain, I try to think of something else.

No- not how to get out, or any other master plan, I'm sorry to say. I think about what will happen if I survive this.

I mean, I don't exactly think I'll be making an appearance on I Shouldn't Be Alive.

I'm stuck in a stupid ravine, on a cold night, without a stupid heater, next to a Wendy's. I doubt I'll get a story written about me, let alone make an appearance right after the guy who gets his armed ripped off by an alligator, then sleeps with a pride of lions in the African savannah. But it is getting pretty cold. Maybe if I lose a few fingers to frostbite, they'll let me have my own episode…

But my thoughts don't stray there for long. They don't stray there for long because they are interrupted….

By my cell phone ringing.


R&R please :)