Author's note: I'm so sorry! Can't believe it took me a month to update this story. I've been extremely busy and (insert excuse here). Anyways, thank you all for your reviews. It looks like the Scrubs category is where the money's at. ;) Again, thanks for the review, and sorry if I didn't reply to you. I probably forgot.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything mentioned in this chapter (slogans, shows, food, whatever) I also don't own Scrubs.

Also: This chapter has some pretty gnarly words in it. The F word and S word are used often, so if this offends you, don't read… I was thinking maybe I should change the rating. You guys think so? Drop a review with your suggestions for the rating please.


-Chapter 3: Can You Hear Me Now?-

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.

The jovial sound of the standard ring tone set to my phone almost makes me cry. My phone; my wonderful, beautiful, reaching-people-outside-of-this-damn-car capable phone! Why hadn't I thought of it earlier? Sure, I had been unconscious, screaming in agony, and then unconscious again, but really, somewhere in my busy schedule I should have stuck "call for help so you don't freeze to death, you moron" in there!

Beside the point JD, beside the point! Find your goddamn phone! Okay, calm down. Where did you put?

I remember fighting my way in to the car, and waiting for it to heat up, but where was my phone? It wasn't in my backpack, and I know it's not in my pocket… so where is it?

…I threw it in the passenger's seat. So… where is it now?

Shit JD, quick, the stupid song is ending!

Giving up on the 'think about it' route, I search wildly around, moving from side to side, as much as possible in my condition. I try to follow where I hear the sound…

The car landed on its side, in afore mentioned trickle, and from my position, I can't see much but the white ground outside.

But, that's all I need to see. There, maybe a few feet outside the windshield is my phone. Unfortunately, "a few feet outside the windshield" is just "a few feet outside the windshield" too far for me to reach.

I'm screwed.

I can't reach up to scratch my nose, let alone drag my self out into the snow, and take a fucking nature hike to my phone. Shit, shit, shit.

What the hell do I do?


…It stopped. The ringing stopped. It's been two hours. They didn't stop calling for the first hour. It must have been someone I know (its times like these I wish I had set custom ring tones.). Maybe it was Carla… or maybe it was…

No. It wasn't him. He wouldn't call. After all, "why would he care if I wasn't there?" right JD?

Shut up, me.

The second hour I fell asleep. I know I shouldn't have, considering I'm pretty sure I have a concussion, but hell, I'm tired. I don't know when they gave up, but they did. I'm sure they think I'm just sleeping through it or something. (Which, technically, I was.)

…I wonder if they'll miss me. Lately they've been acting like they wouldn't. I just feel betrayed. With Turk, and well, just everything.

I try to sigh, but my broken rib protests the action. I'm pretty sure I screamed. Hell, it's hard to breathe now. Shit- hope I didn't puncture my lung… that would suck…

After a few minutes, the pain subsides, and I can breathe normally again. (Well, quasi-normally, considering the situation.)

After a few minutes, I realize I'm shivering. Why did I only wear a stupid long-sleeve shirt? It was cold today, you idiot! What is wrong with me? If I live, I am wearing a double layered fleece trench coat every single day… even in the summer!

Shit… the water can't be helping. One third of my body (including my head) is fucking swimming in it, and bits and pieces of snow keep tumbling in with it. I start to think about hyperthermia. I'm definitely gettin' me some a that. Oh yeah, not to mention frostbite, torpor, and the really bad form of hibernation.

FUC-…


…I have to get out of here. I'm losing too much blood. The small trickle that is gracing me with its presence has turned a morbid red. At first I didn't know why. I think that's more proof as to my condition. But I can't move. The left leg (the only none-injured appendage I still have) is pinned beneath the other leg. Besides, the pain it would cause everywhere else would be unbearable.

But, then again, death would probably be worse.

Deciding on going for the phone, I start to move. I take the right arm (the one with the glass buddy) and move around my abdomen, to rest it on the ground. The pain is bad, but I manage to fight through it with a few grunts and gasps.

I put all my weight on my arm, and push up. The trickle runs over my hand, and washes away the blood that had been covering it. I try to focus on the small designs the blood makes in the running water, instead of how I might have been wrong about the whole death thing.

The pain is EXCRUCIATING. My ribs groan and plead with me to stop moving, while my arm and leg demand it. I manage to sit up on my left hip. It's awkward because I'm sitting on the door, but the pain of the handle in my bum is nothing compared to everything else.

My right arm is screaming, but it holds up the weight I am putting on it. I sit for a minute, and catch my breath. Then I look up.

My phone sits mere feet from me, looking at me, glaring at me, mocking me.

Oh yeah? Well, FUCK you phone.

…blood loss is a bitch. I really have to get out of here. I hold my breath as I take my right arm, and reach out, resting it on the snow ridden ground. It sinks an inch, but the temperature does nothing to me.

I make a fist in it, and drag myself forward. It HURTS. I lift my right leg, making sure to avoid hitting the glass that is currently becoming buddies with my thigh muscle, and the dislocated femur. My left arm rests lightly in the snow, and doesn't cease to make me want to cry. I rest my right leg lightly, and prepare myself.

To pull my healthy left leg over, I have to put weight in the right one.

I slowly start to put pressure on the leg, before-


Shit. I was unconscious again, wasn't I? Damn it. This can't be good for me, really.

But I'm awake now, and I'm ready to go, damn it.

Only a few more feet, and I can reach the conniving phone.

I do a pathetic imitation of an army crawl, putting my weight on my right arm, and left leg. And soon, (okay, fifteen minutes or so) I reach my phone.

I reach out with my right arm, the rest of my body flopped onto the snowy ground. I grab it, and pull it to my face.

I start to thank any and all great deity's I can think of, while flipping the phone open.

…but nothing happens.

No lights come on, no message that says: '40 missed calls, you douche', not even a picture of the little orange Cingular guy (which is my standard background, even though I have a Verizon phone).

And it takes me a few minutes to realize why:

My phone is dead.


JD passes out alot in this chapter, huh? Sleepy boy... :)

R&R please. (P.S.: don't forget to mention a rating.)