A/N-My first Scrubs fic. Yeah, I know I'm kind of late for this particular bandwagon but, I enjoy the show and stories I've read and thought I'd take a crack at it. I may rework this, but anyhoo, if anyone still reads these please let me know what you thought.^^

It all happened so fast.

It sounds cliché, but most things in real life do nowadays. I guess it just comes from living in a time when everyone assumes everything has been heard, seen or done and that the real challenge now is to reinvent what already exists. But knowing about something is nothing compared to living it—feeling it for yourself. And that's what happened to me.

Why was I out there?

Well, I had just gotten off of a double shift and it was nearing two in the morning. It wasn't too busy of a night, which in itself was a rare blessing when you worked in a hospital. And somehow this last shift of mine coincided with most of my friends' shifts too, another rarity for this time of day—or night. Turk and Carla were taking extra shifts to save up for when they have a baby—they were trying like crazy, the eager little bunnies! Elliot, while still going strong with her new fellowship at another hospital, was bound to come in later like she has been the past couple of weeks (that's right Elliot! I know all about your lunch escapades!) Dr. Cox was getting off in another hour—by choice since he told me as I headed for the locker room that he wants a radius clear of my presence when he leaves. The kidder…

I even saw Janitor asleep in the supply closet Elliot and I used to hide in during our first year as I went to find some syringes a couple hours ago. He didn't wake up—thank GOODNESS!—so I just reached around him and got what I needed and then got away as far as possible.

As for me, I decided to plan mine for this time since I'd rather work with friends through a long shift, and plus I was rather lonely since I had moved out of the apartment Turk and I used to share. I hadn't lived alone in a long time, and the past week since I moved out things had begun to get to me. So, I kept myself busy in hopes things would feel better. I only wrote what was on my mind in my diary, then left those pesky sad thoughts there. I suppose nothing had truly happened to me to make feel this way but I guess with all the time on my own gave room to straying thoughts, thoughts about me and what my purpose was now since my life took a wayward turn. Soon after, my ceiling caved in on top of me so there wasn't much for signs of fate to lighten my mood. So I turned to social interaction at work as a pick-me-up (coughescapecough). Though tonight we didn't talk much because of the indecent hour of day, but companionable silence was better than nothing. Or, in my mentor's case, ranting in my face as he stole my drink from my hand and stormed away, growling at and scattering sleepy interns in his wake.

I can't even remember what I had been drinking—was it soda? Water? This was why I needed to go home and sleep—or what my new "home" was now. It currently was a room with a caved-in ceiling from a water leak and a fallen tub. Turk and I were planning to sneak me back into his and Carla's apartment later until I could find a decent place to crash.

It was with these hopeful thoughts I made my way outside, bidding Carla goodbye who responded with a soft "Night Bambi. Drive safe." to which Dr. Cox (he always pops up when you least expect him! Oh how I admire and envy his ninja-like stealth…) responded with a "If you don't, be sure it's not during my shift! I don't want to deal with a whiny little girl crying from a skinned knee after falling off her bicycle because the other kids wouldn't play nice." He didn't even look up from his chart and then ducked into a patient's room. I called after him saying something about Sasha being a manly mode of transportation and that I had a helmet as he very well knew. Carla chuckled despite her obvious exhaustion. I told her to tell Turk bye for me (he was in the on-call room catching a few needed z's) and I left.

I've always loved nighttime. The lampposts are so pretty glowing all over, and the gentle breeze and overall quiet really makes you peaceful inside.

Of course, with unusual hours of the night came unusual encounters. And in the middle of a city this spells out one thing: trouble. And that's what I thought as I felt something jab into my back as I reached Sasha. I spun around, heart pounding in my chest. I was face-to-face with some guy in a ratty jacket and knit cap. He had bloodshot eyes, a tremor in his hand (I noticed because I couldn't stop going back to the gun in his hand—the one he just jabbed me with) with the other arm wrapped around his middle.

"Look, if you need help I can take you inside-" I began, my voice quiet and gentle, a tone I saved when I was at my most serious and concerned, both things I was feeling among a thousand other things at the moment.

"Shut it!" he interrupted me, though looked pretty out of it. "I…I-I just need money…"

I could feel myself pale. "Look, I haven't got any. I don't get paid for another couple weeks and I spent my last bit on renting an apartment—"

"B-But…You're a doctor! Whatever you've got I'll take! Just hand it over—or I'll make you." He looked so desperate and crazed. He was suffering from a major withdrawal…and possibly some kind of infection by the look of his skin and eyes. Of course, I was scared out of my mind but I kept my cool. We're trained with dealing with all kinds of patients….well, in theory.

My mind flashed to a mini fantasy where Ted was teaching us through poorly drawn examples in crayon of dealing with crazed drug addicts who may mug you on hospital grounds. Dr. Cox is yawning and looking aggravated, standing next to Doug who has pantyhose pulled over his head and waving around a toy water gun.

"And with this re-enactment we will see what could happen if such an event should occur—"Ted garbles on, motioning to Dr. Cox to start the role-play for us to learn from. He takes one look at Doug and growls. Doug whines and runs out the door.

"Aw mannn…that's not how it goes, Perry…" Ted whined, earning a glare from Dr. Cox. Ted sighs and tells us that in any case, the hospital isn't liable for accidents or murders that happen outside their walls and that we can't sue.

"Dr. Cox would even be a better victim than me…" I mutter snapping out of my happy place. I must be tired if I'm nodding off to dream-land while a gun is pointed at me.

"W-what? Man, just give me the money!" My Robber yelled, in a hoarse voice.

"I can't man, a-all I've got is like, fifteen cents." I reached in my scrubs pocket and pulled it out, a few pennies and maybe a nickel dropped and tinkled on the asphalt. I glanced to the doors of Sacred Heart, hoping someone would be running to my rescue any moment now—but no one was even near them. I squinted for a second and saw Carla was on the phone and shuffling some charts. No one could see me directly anyway, I had parked my scooter near Dr. Cox's Porsche and that was nearly out of sight of the doors to begin with.

I was snapped out of my thoughts that spanned a couple seconds (crazy I know, the mind is full of wonders!) as my robber guy let out a strangled dry sob, hitching the gun upward a bit and he pressed his other fist into his forehead as if he had a headache. He probably did, I know I do.

"I…c-can't believe this….I…I n-n-needed this…and you ruined it!" He yelled, but with his raspy voice it wasn't too powerful. Though, it just helped the frightened bubbling in my middle take life as now I had no idea what to do and only knew whatever it was, he was blaming me.

He suddenly stopped shaking and a wild look come over him. I backed up a step but there was nothing I could do. Hatred in his eyes and agony like a trapped animal, he aimed his gun at my chest and while I jolted back to get away, he had already fired.

The sound echoed all around the near vacant parking lot. Adrenaline was flowing through my body and I was wide-eyed, focusing on Robber Guy as he fled the scene. I stumbled back another step, still standing, not believing my luck that he had missed. He was like, three feet away!

And that's when I felt it.

I felt a wave of numbness in my upper chest and it reached my legs, which now were buckling. And then I knew. I knew he hadn't missed and I, in fact, had been shot. I couldn't bring myself to look down and assess the damage, all I could think was why I didn't feel it. My thoughts began to break down at this point and things began to slow down. It was like those Matrix movies or those sports shows Dr. Cox watches sometimes, where things slow down to emphasize the details apart from real-time. And right now, I felt like I had all the time in the world and yet only seconds of consciousness left. It was weird, yet made sense.

I then felt something warm trickling down and in a thrill of fright I thought I had had an accident. Boy, would that make Dr. Cox's day. He'd never let me live that down—robbed like the damsel in distress I was then wetting myself and fainting because I'm such a dainty pansy like that. It was with relief that I finally looked down and saw it was instead just scarlet spreading across my blue scrubs top. For some reason this didn't scare me like I thought it would. Maybe since it was preferable to Dr. Cox's possible humiliating rant. Maybe I'd get a scar? Chicks dig scars.

But part of me knew I couldn't hope to live from this, though I couldn't remember why. I vaguely assessed blood loss was affecting my conscious rational thought.

Someone called out my name. I looked up from gazing at the red splattered across my hands (and staining my id badge—if Kelso makes me replace it out of my salary I'll just keep it as is). Wow. Everything was blurry. Things looked pretty this way though, with lights and shapes and colors all blending together to make some vague form. Like an…impressionist painting, right? That's the term I think. Look at me being all artsy.

I hear my name called out again. Both times it sounded so low and slow to my ears, like when me and Turk have our slo-mo races. But Turk wasn't here, and I'd probably never see him again. Or his wife Carla, who would be the most amazing mother…she sure is to me. Or Elliot, who I never got to sort things out feelings-wise with but I knew I would always love her somehow. Or Dr. Cox, who probably would never know how much he helped me be who I am today.

I felt my eyes tear up, which somehow helped me see clearer. Someone was shouting my name again, over and over, and running towards me, but the voice was slow too. I tried to meet them but my legs finally gave out (and I was feeling light headed from loss of blood) and so I fell onto my knees (it hurt! Oh, so I can feel my kneecaps-to-pavement impact but not the impact of a bullet? And why am I complaining?) I then didn't have the strength to hold myself up and I fell the rest of the way backward, right as the person calling me reached my side. Things were finally dark though my eyes were wide open, and I felt my heart break as I finally understood what it felt to be alone, to die with regret. I allowed myself to voice (in my head anyway) my deepest fears I'd been suppressing for months now, as I lay there with the life-clock ticking against me.

I finally recognized the voice to belong to my ment—no, my boss, Dr. Cox. Because he never wanted to be my mentor, my father figure, my friend…my anything. I sorta' pushed him into all of that. And now, I had to burden him with being with me in my last moments, something he didn't need. He cared too much about his patients and hated the "deep conversations". I was making him face both—my mortality and his last words to me. I wanted him to know it was okay. I knew I'd never replace Ben. I knew I'd never reach the trust and friendship he once held for Petey—his true protégé. And I knew that even if he trusted me as a person and doctor, he'd always be annoyed by my very presence. It was my fault, I knew. Turk warned me not to bother with him, Carla told me he was always like that, Elliot cried a lot…but I wouldn't listen. I latched onto him because he's…well, he's Dr. Cox. And I never took the obvious hints, I stayed right by his side. But he never needed me; I had always needed him. It was with this thought I felt a tear escape my eye and slide down my face and my vision returned slightly to see Dr. Cox shouting over his shoulder and EMTs running over with a gurney. They needn't bother, I was long gone. It took all I had to grab Dr. Cox's hand, which turned out to be a light nudge if anything. He turned back to me, a stressed look in his own eyes. Wow, they're crystal blue when he's upset—that's weird, I've seen him upset hundreds of times and they were never this clear and bright. Something's different now. I've never seen him look quite like this. Huh.

"Newbie, stay with me!"

I can hear him clearly now. I'm glad because everything was so muffled before.

"Newbie, no! JD! STAY WITH ME!"

My eyes fluttered open—I didn't realize they were closing. Dr. Cox using my real name was cool, as it hardly ever happens. He's grasping my hand now, like a full on hand shake, but not the letting go part. It was no hug but it'll do before I drift away….

Next thing I knew I see lights scrolling past my vision, people yelling orders and stats, and I feel much cooler than I last remembered. Cooler as in freezing; wow, why do we keep it so cold in here? There's a reason, I know it…ugh, it's gone. I can't form coherent thought as well as I could. Time has sped up since I was shot. Things are moving on regular time now and it takes all I have to keep up. I notice Dr. Cox is still by my side, running with the gurney I'm strapped in, his warm hand holding onto my wrist. My blood stains are all over his front and hands, speckling his pure white coat in droplets of vibrant red. I catch his eye and he stops mid yell to address me.

"Newbie, I need you to stay awake or you'll go into shock, okay? Can you do that kid?" his voice his wavering, probably due to his impromptu jogging. I hear Carla on my other side shout for someone to clear the hallway of some leftover food cart. I hear a deep voice respond in quick authority that he'll get it done, and we soon pass swiftly. I catch a glimpse of Janitor as we pass, his eyes on me with…worry? I wanted to say thanks for clearing the hallway for lil' ol' me…

"Newbie? JD?! C'mon, we're almost there!" Dr. Cox looked almost frantic. We make it to the surgical room, and I remember somehow that Turk in on call tonight. I won't last in time to tell him goodbye, I know it.

"Get him in here!" Dr. Cox yelled in response to something someone said. Probably how Turk isn't here yet. Give him a break, he was probably sound asleep five seconds ago! He doesn't know it's me. That's gonna' be a shock. They shouldn't make him do this. If I die—when I die—he'll blame himself.

Dr. Cox looks at me again and he removes the oxygen mask as Carla helps some interns prep me, though I hear her choke on a sob.

My eyes are welling up again—darn you tear ducts betraying my feelings!—and all I can manage to say is,

"I-I'm sorry."

I heard my own heart monitor flat line before darkness overtook me.