Author's Note: Dude… I suck. I'm so sorry! I can't believe it's been three months since I updated! I'm a horrible soul! Tear. Please forgive me! But with high school starting, and other time consuming activities, I had no time! SOOOOO sorry! Wow, you guys sure got lucky with me being dead sick! Lol… I really hope some of you are still reading!
Also: With me trying to get this posted, I didn't have time to read it through, so any mistakes are all mine, and I deserve to be ridiculed and punished for it… Please read on, and enjoy… (Even though it's pretty much a crappy, short, filler chapter… tear. Sorry again)
Disclaimer: Don't own Scrubs…
P.S.: my finger's are cold… :l
-Chapter 5: Days of Our Emergency-
When I woke up, I really didn't know what was happening.
Things were a blur. The pain in all of my body, even, was reduced to a dull throbbing as I tried to regain my bearings.
I could feel hands touching me, feeling the parts of me that were obviously less injured than other parts. I could hear voices. They sounded like someone had stuffed cotton into my ears and then made me sit through a Shakespearian play.
I couldn't understand what was going on. I opened my eyes and saw snow. Falling. Where was I? Was I still outside the Wendy's? But I thought someone had found me…
My confusion was suddenly cleared as someone brushed over the glass in my stomach, causing me to be thrown harshly into painful reality.
I gazed to my right and saw a paramedic. That must have been the bastard that decided to play patty-cake with my glass compadre. I can see his lips are saying something to me, but I can't focus, and with my ears being unable to translate for my brain, I found my eyes drifting elsewhere.
A little passed the paramedic's shoulder I can see Ava the counter-girl standing up the small slope of the ravine talking to a paramedic. She looks like she's crying, and she puts her hand up to her mouth as she looks down to where I am, and for a second I think she might hurl. Then the paramedic pats her shoulder and seems to dismiss her. Then she walks away, and I can't see her anymore. Oh well.
I look back to my right, and the paramedic seems to be saying something that goes over my head. (Literally) I look to my left and find that there is another paramedic, only a few feet away, setting up the emergency gurney.
The third paramedic (the one that was talking to Ava) suddenly appeared by my feet, and seems to ask my buddy on my right something. At the same time, the paramedic to the left lifts my head and slips the neck brace under me. She does it so violently that I can't help the shout of protest that escapes me. (Okay, so it's more like a surprised moan…)
Then, the unintelligible muffles that were the paramedic's talking became bits and pieces of actual sentences. It came in and out, like a radio station in a tunnel.
"Victim's name… Sacred Heart?... freeway… poor sucker… condition?" the third paramedic said. The bits and pieced only seemed to confuse my muddled brain more, and I looked away, as if the words caused me pain. I turned my head to the paramedic on my right, and I could just manage to read the name tag on his uniform, stating him to be "James".
James didn't turn his head to reply to his co-worker, instead he kept his gaze trained on me and the gory sight of my body, "he seems… non-responsive to wor… registers pain… broken… possible dislocation… too much blood."
DUH, I'm responsive to pain. Idiots.
They seem to be talking between themselves, and they speak so fast that my bits and pieces become nothing but white noise. Then James bends his head down close to mine and speaks louder… oh, I think he's talking to me!
I try to concentrate on what he's saying, and not the increase of pain in my arm: "Jonathan? My name is… you've been in… do you…?" he pauses for a minute to see if I'll answer, but they only response I can give is a furrow in my brow as I try to interpret what he said. He seems to deflate a little as he sighs, and continues.
"We're gonna put… gurney… might hurt… the hospital… work?" Great. From what I got, they're going to move me. That's gonna be fantastic.
This time he doesn't pause for my answer (not that it matters, I couldn't answer his partial-question anyways) as he stands from his crouch to say something over to the woman next me. Then all hell breaks loose.
I watch all three of them count to three as James cradles my head, and the other paramedic lifts my feet. The woman grips my left side from over the gurney, and as they reach three, we all take a deep breath, and they lift.
And then I pass out.
I'm pretty sure I'm in the ambulance… things are moving fast, the paramedics are all talking way too quickly, and I'm pretty sure I'm one paper cut away from passing out from the pain again.
James is saying something to me, and all I can do is say one thing:
"Where's my cell phone?"
Okay, so I'm pretty sure it came out more like "wah sy ellon?" but James, apparently, is fluent in Car Crash Victim.
He smiles a small smile as he says, "Don't worry, sir, we grabbed your phone. You'll be makin' calls to your girlfriend in no time." For a second I think that maybe I should be mad at him for saying something like that when I don't even have a girlfriend, but I decide to try to smile back instead. (After all, he WAS saving my life...)
The paramedic seems a bit surprised that I am responsive, and he yells at the driver to hurry up. Looking back down at me, he says something that seems similar to "everything's going to be okay", but by then, I was long gone.
Ryan Christopher James had met this doctor before, he realized. The goofy black hair and lanky looking body was familiar to the paramedic, as he had crouched down. It had taken him a while to recognize the doctor who was always trailing after Dr. Cox. The last time he'd seen the younger man had been quite a few years ago, it was a wonder Ryan had recognized him at all, without him being attached to the more bitter doctor. But as the young man had smiled at Ryan's attempt at encouragement, he recognized the young man.
With a new hope, Ryan turned his head to Tiffany in the front and instructed her to "hurry the hell up". He turned back down to the young doctor, only to find that he had fallen back into unconsciousness. Ryan placed his own stethoscope to the boy's chest, only to throw them off a second later in a rush.
"Patient has fallen into respitory distress. Wynters, get over here!" Ryan called for his fellow paramedic.
The older paramedic sighed and moved too slowly (in Ryan's opinion) to his side. Peter Lamont Wynters was NOT Ryan's friend, (as a matter of fact, he was no one's friend) and Ryan, for the life of him, could not understand why he kept getting shifts with him.
As Ryan tried to determine why his doctor patient wasn't breathing, he could hear Tiffany in the front calling in an emergency delivery to Sacred Heart, one of their own.
The thought made Ryan's stomach clench, and he couldn't keep the angry tone out of his voice as he took the defibrillator from Wynters' hands and shouted a 'clear' through the tense air, hoping for a change in the monitor…
Sitting in the doctor's lounge, watching one of his favorite soap opera's, his mind wandered unabatedly to the events of earlier that day.
Dr. Perry Cox was sure he had never heard anything like come out of his protégé's mouth. Not only the words, but the volume, the tone, and the pure hatred and frustration, were things he had never imagined coming out of the girly doctor.
Perry sighed as he shifted on the uncomfortable couch. This was the first five minutes he's had to himself, work free, since he'd started six hours ago. He wasn't about to waste it thinking about that woman's hissy-fit.
"What do you mean, Doctor? You mean… you mean…?" the large-breasted, small-brained, blonde on the screen asked dramatically.
"Yes, Heather," the doctor replied, possibly even more dramatically, "you're… you're husbands dead. He's been in a car accident… I'm so sorry." The woman broke down, bawling stupidly in the doctor's coat, as he patted her back.
Perry scoffed, thinking many sarcastic things about that particular scene, when a nurse burst in to the doctor's lounge.
"Dr. Cox!" she shouted. Perry pushed himself up from the couch, a glare in place that was more curious than murderous.
"What?" he stated simply.
"There's been an accident, sir," she panted, as if she had run all the way to the lounge. Dr. Cox barely refrained from groaning. He had just got a brake and now there was probably some kind of eighty-car pile-up. He readied himself to hear the bad news, when she said something he was not prepared for:
"It's Dr. Dorian…"
R&R please:( I'm sorry! Tear…
P.S.: LAST SEASON PREMIERE: OCTOBER 25!!!! NOOOOOO!! Scrubs… I love you so…
