My Shattered Reality

Chapter 4 My Drunken Confessions

POV: JD

“NEWBIE!” Dr. Cox’s voice rang out a week after spending the night at Turk and Carla’s.

Shit, he found out…maybe it’s something else…there’s still hope yet…

“Why did your stupid little error result in a near O.D. death?”
Damnit.

“You gave a patient ten times more Morphine than needed. You nearly killed them, you worthless idiot!”
“I know, sir.” I said. I guess he did find out. I don’t know why I did that. I was just so damn tired, even though I was actually getting a lot of sleep. I guess I accidentally added another number when I wrote it down.

“Newbie, you can go and burn in hell, which we all know you will, but when it comes down to the patients, you cannot and will not screw it up, even though you already have…”

And he ranted on for about five minutes on how much of an idiot I was and how stupid and worthless I was and all the usual. As usual, I just looked down and took it. Well, I look up, usually, even though it’s never really in his eyes…

“Got that you incompetent jackass?”
“Yes, sir,”
“And for God’s sake look at me when I talk to you!”

My head snaps up and I suppressed a wince when I snapped some nerve or something.

“Newbie, I won’t let you or anyone else screwing this up, or anything else, for that matter, because my old interns have to reflect ME. So you’re off this patient case and you better shape up because it’s not my ass on the line!”
I nod silently, looking back down, glad we have a very small audience.

“Newbie, you have got to get that empty little head out of those clouds that must be taking up the space where your brain is supposed to be. Unlike most jobs, if you screw up, someone dies.”
I nod again, and he gave a forceful sigh as everyone else returned to their stations and he finally paused and took a good look at me.

“Newbie, when was the last time you slept? Or ate?”

“Why do you care?” I muttered as I started walking.

“Newbie, you have to take care of yourself in order to take care of others. Like I said, you screw up, your ass isn’t the only one on the line.”
Too bad I hate myself a bit too much to do that.

“I’m fine, sir. That morphine error was a clerical mistake and it won’t happen again.”

I finally start walking again, and go to my on-call room after I do my rounds. I seem to doze in and out of sleep, with a few people’s conversations sticking out in my hazy memory.

“NEWBIE!”

I wake up, feeling rather bleary.

“Newbie,” I hear again. Dr. Cox in the doorway.

“Bambi, your lung transplant’s family want to thank you,” Carla said gently. I nod a little tiredly, and I got up to deal with the family.

“Doctor Dorian!” A young girl in a bed cries out when I walk in. She’s surrounded by family members.

Is this what it’s like to have a family who care weather you live or die? I wish I had one…

“Xiao Ming,” I said, addressing her.
“I said call me Mingee,” she says. Her parents, I think, huff in annoyance, and the rest of her family laughs.

“Anyway, glad to know you’re great. You may even be out in a week.”

“The fact that it’s a whole week is bad news, but the fact that I get out of here instead of dying is good news, so I’ll take the last one.” She said, laughing. I rolled my eyes, anyway.

“She…a-okay?” one old woman said with a very thick accent.

“Yes, she’s perfectly fine. We’ll be holding her here for observation and after a few MRI and CAT scans, if the transplant takes and stick she’ll be going home.”
The grandmother, I think, looked a little confused, so Mingee’s mother quickly spoke rapid Chinese. The grandmother nodded.

“Doctor D?” Mingee said. “Please don’t actually say ‘transplant’ to my Granny. She still thinks this was done by herbs and such. If she knew this was a transplant, she’d go ballistic.”
I nodded. We get patients in situations like that. Most of the time, we just use the whole doctor-patient confidentiality thing to our advantage. After a few more reassurances and Thank You’s from her family, I left to go and take care of my rounds. I was honestly feeling better after a bit of sleep, but I was still a little tired.

But seeing as this is now in the past, I’m just going to drop it. Normally I might try and ‘make friends’ with him, but I know now that he hates me a bit too much for that to happen.

I don’t really get him. I mean, I seriously think he hates me because I look up to him. I think that might be it. I don’t know why he hates it. But there’s not much I can do about it. I still do look up to him, but now I guess I’ll just have to be a bit more subtle about it.

I hear an intern saying Dr. Cox’s going to be up here in a few minutes. I finish my rounds in record time and get the hell out of there and go to my new hiding place, the pharmacy. He’ll never look there.

I run up and quietly open the door, slip in, and shut it.

“JD?”

“Hey, Jen,” I say to the new pharmacist. “I’m just…uh…hanging out.”
“Hiding from Coxy?”
I nod and she smiles.

“Stay here long as you like, just don’t touch anything. God, I sound like my mother.”

She heard a patient requesting her presence and went back up front, leaving me to go sit behind a shelf full of stuff and finally relax a little. I don’t think I have relaxed, really, since I woke up this morning.

I watched Jenny for a little while. She had beautiful legs…blonde, but not the dumb kind…oh, those hazel eyes…ok, getting a little carried away. Just some harmless flirting. Besides, she’s on the rebound from a recent breakup.

I knew her, to be honest. We talked a lot because we had generally similar lunch schedules.

I smiled as she came back to fill out paperwork. Man, she could make those jeans work for her.

I waited there for a little while, chatting with Jenny whenever she came back here every now and then, before I went back to another boring day in rounds.

I suppose the calm was broken by a paralysis patient’s wheelchair going out of control. His legs were out until we fixed his spine, but his arms were trying to stop it, with little success.

Ah, What the hell. I am getting off work in ten minutes anyway.

I step in front of its path and hold my palms and almost grab the chair. But it also rams right into me and knocks me over. At least I stopped the damn thing. But now my chest hurts like hell.

“Bambi? Are you all right?”
I want to say no, I think my bruised is cracked again, and my chest is on fire. But I think that’s just me being an idiot.

“Just a bit of bruising.”

She shook her head.

“Come on, that rib is still healing,” She said. “Stupid muggers. You’re coming with me-”

“I’m fine.”
“I don’t care.”
After half an hour (and one very short physical) later, she lets me go home. I grab my stuff, hop on my bike, slide on my helmet, and speed on home. Feeling a little impulsive, I start going as fast as I can without breaking the speed limit, swerving around corner and turns and dodging between cars, something I normally don’t do. But I loved the rush and made a mental note to do it more often.

I didn’t even bother with dinner and just went inside and threw on that bathrobe I finally got over my streets and just collapse to sitting on my sleeping bag. I mean, I know what it’s probably a bad idea having only coffee for the whole day, with the exception of six seconds at a water fountain, but I really don’t care.

I get changed into some sweats, having long ago given up on actual pajamas, and, ignoring the damp shivering, somehow fell into a blissful sleep.

I groan the next morning, completely drained. I’m shivering, and yet I’m also sweating.

I consider calling in sick, thinking to any trained eyes, which the place will be full of, it would be obvious. But, after an hour or so of just lying there in my tent, I feel the effects going down. By the time I get there, I’ll be just fine.

So I go out side and grimace at the frost.

I was glad about to bike. When I had gotten it, the tires were coated or something with some weird thingy that made it hard to skid or slip on a road or on a dirt path.

So I grab some Pop-Tarts from a box and start towards Sacred Heart.

Sacred Heart, my ass. All Kelso cares about is money.

Bastard.

I got to work safely and parked my bike in my usual spot and went inside.

“Bambi!” Carla called over to me, smiling.

“Hey, Carla.”
But when I got closer her smile faltered.

“Bambi, are you all right? You’re a bit clammy…and you’re shivering and sweating.”
Damnit, she noticed.

“It’s nothing. I was sweating at night, I guess, I came here early to shower, and I am shivering because it’s COLD outside. There was even frost all over the roads. Actually, on the trees it’s kinds of pretty but everywhere else it’s-”

“Bambi! Why are you riding your bike on frosted roads?”
“Oh, don’t worry. I drove carefully.”
She barely nodded before she smiled.

“Guess what?”
“What?”
“Turk and I are having a daughter!”
It takes a moment to register in my mind, before I jump up and hug her.

“That’s so wonderful!”
She smiled and squeezed the life out of me.

“So,” I stepped back. “Who’re the godparents?”
“Turk and I already decided. You’ll be godfather. We don’t think the baby will need a godmother.”
“Ah…Carla? Are you sure I should be godfather? I have several fears of that baby most of which included me accidentally poisoning it with honey and me accidentally dropping it.”
“Bambi, that type of stuff only happens within the first two months of birth, and during that time Turk himself will be lucky to get her out of my arms, so don’t worry about it.”

I looked at her at that point.

“Why’d you wait until you were eight months in to find out the gender?”
“Turk and I were going to keep it a surprise, but by now we just couldn’t wait!”

I nod once again and keep walking to the locker rooms. I take my shower and start my rounds.

“Kimberly, why are you here half an hour early? Don’t you know that if you have some time off, you’re supposed to use it?”
I just nod blandly and keep going.

“Why the hell are you here right now when you should be at where ever the hell your new place is, all cuddled up in a new bed and laughing at some chick-flick on your probably new big screen TV?”
Once again, I ignore him completely.

“Annabel, you’re supposed to listen to me!”
I pretended he didn’t exist while I check my patient’s IV tube. Then he tried the age old trick.

“I got my whole body tattooed last night,” He said, testing weather or not I was listening.

“I hope you figure out how to cover them before you have sex with Jordan again,” I said. He actually looked surprised.

“That’s it. Just for that, you’re getting all my minor patients, and you’re taking Free Clinic duty, got it?”

“What? What did I do?”
“Ignore my questions.”

“About why I was here early? Most bosses would be happy when their employees work a bit more than needed, you know.”
“I am not because you are so obviously sick, and overworking yourself will make it worse, and soon you might actually screw up on a patient, which will get me in trouble.”

I want to glare at him and say something, but I bite back a retort and simply move onto my next patient. A lesson I learned early on was to not talk back to anyone. Otherwise, the final blow just became worse.

Ironically, I was once again overworked, but I was glad as it gave me little time to slow down and think. I was doing almost double my amount of patients, and when I finally got done with that, I was in the Free Clinic. I almost skipped lunch to get done with the work involved in treating Dr. Cox’s second hand patients, but Carla dragged me to Chicken Soup Day. I manage to scarf down a bowl, and barely keep it down, to satisfy her and go right back to work.

I finally got a fifteen-minute break near the end of the way, so I just lay on a couch in the staff lounge. Unfortunately, Dr. Cox was there, and so he was ranting and raving about Jordan.

“…and then that bitch has the nerve to lock me out of MY room. I mean, seriously, do you know how cold it is on the couch? Oh, and let’s not forget the fact that seeing as it’s winter, she’s only giving me two blankets. Oh, and the lumps, goddamn that couch is hard. Oh, and she just had to disable the thermostat…”
I nod and then I had to go back and finish my last set of rounds, responding to my beeper.

After work I went to Happy Panda (I love Chinese a bit too much, yet for some reason hate Japanese and sushi) and got quite a bit to last me a while.

After that I got home and simply sat on a lawn chair, reading some Harry Potter, one of my favorite books.

I was so absorbed, I didn’t here someone walking over until he said, “You have got to be kidding me.”

I growl from my spot on the couch in the staff lounge. If I could just last through another hour, then I would be able to grab someone and got grab a drink. A Scotch sounded wonderful at the moment.

I think back. What made my day so off?
I just shrug it off and think through my patients and anyone else I’m watching.

My heart transplant patient’s doing just fine.

I am low on blood. We’re getting a shipment from the Red Cross next week.

I was watching over Carla. If things go the way they are right now, she’d be giving birth in less than two weeks.

So far, Miss Kings is doing all right, though she was Newbie’s patient.

Newbie. He was a sudden enigma.

It took barely a little over two months for him to go from a happy-go-lucky attending that saw the whole world as a joke and took next to nothing seriously besides patients. He used to refuse to drink and he did everything he could to keep himself healthy, looking forward to a bright, long, future.

But now he seemed to be permanently…lost. He seems to be…well, depressed isn’t really the right word. More like…disconnected. Yeah, that’s it. It used to be that just the bad parts of reality seemed to bounce right off him. But now, all of it seemed to. I watch him and mostly think that he’s getting better, but something seems a little off about it. I’m honestly not really sure what, but something is. Something I should see really easy.

But though most of my hunches are right, a few of them weren’t. This one might just be one of the latter ones. Because I really hope he’s getting better.

I really don’t know or want to know how to deal with a depressed Newbie.

But even then, I still want to at least figure out what’s going on in that strange little head of his.

That’s one thing that makes me think he’s getting better. When I was in the middle of yelling at him, he just randomly said ‘Table corners are evil.’ I used to hate him for this, and I pretended to do so again by demanding he stop talking to himself. But if he’s going off back into his little daydreams, then maybe that’s a good thing. He’s going back to normal. Right?

I still want to open his skull up and poke around inside. He’s gone whacko, that’s for sure.

I think I know who my next drinking buddy should be.

I realize that my shift ends in two minutes, so I get up and go find Laverne.

“Where’s Newbie?” I ask her.

“Q-Tip? He clocked out half an hour ago.”
“Then get me his address, I need to find him. I need someone to drink with tonight.”
“Can’t. Classified info.”
“Then move aside,” I said, already trying to get into her computer files. She doesn’t bother to stop. I write down his address and the way to get there and get into my car.

I know this neighborhood. He probably has some big, nice house, not some chilled living room (Jordan somehow disengage the thermostat, too) and probably has some big TV and all that other bullshit. Great, now an ex-intern is richer than me. That’s a first. Then again, he was the first (and so far as I now, last) intern to sleep with my ex-wife and her sister.

I glare at the road. Just two more blocks and I can ring his doorbell (or if he’s one of those prissy little richies, he tries to be ‘noble’ and only has a knocker) and grab him out of there and take him to the Hot Spot for a drink.

But when I finally reach there, I check the address. Why is it a tent? It had a mailbox bearing the address, so I guess I got the wrong address. Is Newbie lying for some reason?

I am about half a block away, though. So when I come closer, I see Newbie, sitting on a lawn chair on the porch thing, covered in a blanket, and reading some novel.

What the fuck?

Oh dear god. I thought my home sucked. Newbie’s out here in a tent. I see the blankets on top of the tent and him, with him obviously trying to get a little warmer. For some reason, even if they work now, I don’t think they will in the very near future. It’s going to snow soon. This might explain why’s he always as the hospital.

And what is he doing? I am so used to him and Gandhi talking about TV shows and stuff, I sometimes wonder if they even can read. I guess he can. What is it he’s reading? It’s a thick book.

I sigh. No wonder he never seems to want to go home. He doesn’t have one. I mean, I know this land, he owns it, but still…god damn, a tent…and I know the type of tent he’s using…it’s a summer tent…

I quietly get out of the car and walk across the street. I have to smirk when I see the book title.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Newbie jumps and grabs something and whips around, pointing it at me.

Well, guess this would be the only thing he really has to defend his home.

“Dr. Cox, what are you doing here?” He asks as he puts the pocketknife down after sliding it back in. “Whatever you need, why didn’t you just page me?”
“I was going to take you to the bar so you could drive me home after I got drunk. Why are you living in a tent?”
He seems to be slightly confused, then simply turns back around in his chair.

“I don’t know why you’re here, Dr. Cox, but what do you want?”
“Answer my question.”
“Because I own this land. Does that answer it?” He’s still looking at his book. The creepy part is I think he might actually be reading it while still talking to me.

“Newbie…what the hell is going on in that little head of yours?”
“That a bookworm is dating an athlete she hates to get back at her best friend.”
I do actually read Harry Potter, so the weird thing is I know what he’s talking about.

“Newbie…”
“Why are you still here?” He finally turns back around to face me. I shake my head, and he turns back to his book as he says, “You can stay here if you want, though I doubt you’d want to. Just leave me alone. That’s all I really want.”
Back to normal, my ass. Something was completely off.

He laughs at something, mutters about ‘always Quidditch stars’ or something like that, and I take him up on his offer. There were two other lawn chairs there, so I pull one up and take a seat. He looks up, apparently surprised.

“Doctor Cox, don’t you have something better to do besides torture me in my own home?”
I shake my head.

“I was just going to get a drink.”
“With me?”
“Something’s changed about you. I was planning on poking around inside that little head of yours and figure out what.”
He seems to pale for a second before shaking his head.

“Nothing to it. I just got a bitch slap from reality.”

I look right back at him, look him in the eyes, dead on.

“Since when did you get so serious, Newbie?”
“Why do you care? Why do you care, so long as I do my job? Why do you care why your little slave machine is a little more serious so long as it does its job?”
Did he really think I thought of him as a slave machine?

“Newbie, really, what do you think is going on with this? Why the sudden change?”
He shook his head in the ‘forget it’ way and turns back to his book. I just adjust the seat back until I’m staring right up at the sky starry.

“Nice view,” I said. He mumbles a thanks and then for a little while longer neither of us talk.

Then he reaches over to the Bunsen burner, which I saw him turn on just before I had driven close enough to see that it was him, and pulled out a white box.

“What some Chow Mein?” He asks. I am about to say no, but then I remember I skipped lunch, and I was going to eat while getting drunk.
I nod and he gives me the chop sticks and the half empty box and goes back to his stupid book while I eat and stare up at the sky, trying to understand this drastic new change in life.

In my life.

What the hell was he doing here? I just wanted to be alone.

A little while ago, he finished my Chinese food, and now was just staring at the sky. Finally, I give up on trying to focus on Slughorn and Snape and the Christmas party and snap the book shut. He notices and looked at me.

“Doctor Cox, do you still want that drink? We can take the bus to bar and call a cab back home.”
He only nods and I put my stuff back inside my tent and arrange a few things so it looks like there’s nothing valuable in it, before we walked several blocks to the nearest bus stop. We got off at our bar.

“Hey, docs!” Candy called out. “Hey, Coxy, long time, no see. JD…welcome back to the living.”
I just smile.

“So, what’ll it be?”
“I’ll order a Scotch for the both of us,” Doctor Cox said before I could get a word in. I just shrug and she brings us two glasses and the large bottle.

I down the odd drink. It was terrible, but you still wanted to drink it. On the bright side, it worked quite while. Us two were half way through the second bottle and laughing about my love life or something like that.

I think he asked me a few questions about me. Most of it I somehow redirected to my younger college years. Though a few led back farther, no matter how hard I tried. I really just hope either I didn’t tell him anything that dangerous, or if I did he wouldn’t remember.

Soon after, we go to his apartment because we only want to take one cab trip. I barely remember that Jordan kissed me on the lips before she smacked me.

But I barely remember this, so I am a little surprised when the next morning I wake up on Doctor Cox’s living room floor.

Neither of us wake up happy, but he seems a little surprised when he sees me. Before he can spout out some insult, I get up and run out the door and down the stairs and outside. I quickly run down half a block before my head is pounding too much and I have to duck into an alleyway to puke.

“Oi!” Some hobo shouts. “What ya puking in my home for?”
But I’m still leaning over the trashcan, panting.

He raises a fist and I grumble, “Please, kill me.”
I get up and he glares.

“Get out.”
“In a moment…soon as my stomach settles-”
WHAM

Seriously, what is it with people I don’t know attacking me? This guy takes a punch at my face, and another at my shoulder and one more at my chest before I run right back out and go to the nearest corner, about to duck into another, this time empty, alleyway. But I jump and fall backwards trying to spin back when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I hiss when the back of my head hits the corner of a bench. Damn, everything hurts. I look up to glare at a barely standing Doctor Cox.

“Look, Dr. Cox, I was about to leave,” I grumbled out, before I remember that he is, in fact, my boss. “I’ll just go, now.”

“You can’t in your condition.”
“Doctor Cox, it’s nothing, I swear. I just want to get home so I can-”

“YOU DON’T HAVE A HOME!” he shouts. I am really glad we are still basically in an alleyway, because the one or two people who pass by give him odd looks. He doesn’t seem to care.

“Well, then, my tent, so I can sleep off this hangover, which by the way you’re not helping.”

“Newbie, you’ve been coming in sick every other day-”
“I do not!”

“-And living in a tent in winter explains it all.”

I just pull myself up and stagger for a moment before I hail a cab. Doctor Cox seems to try and keep talking to me, but I just jump in and tell the driver where to go.

I pay him and climb back into my tent and don’t even bother to change, I just collapse onto my sleeping bag and lay there. Everything in my body hurts, I’m sore, my empty stomach still feels like it’s heaving, and my head is about to explode. I am seriously on the verge of just grabbing that knife outside and stabbing myself with it right now.

I stare after Newbie as he left in a cab and couldn’t help but finally realize that that morning, a strange emotion was taking over me concerning him.

Damnit. I actually cared. I wasn’t supposed to care!

I walked back home until I was sitting back on my couch, deep in thought.

I felt stupid whenever he talked about being my mentor. But secretly, it felt kind of nice to have someone look up to me. I always had people hating me. And I normally didn’t care, so long as they were all right. But Newbie, he was different. He seemed to still look up to me, respect me. I wasn’t used to that.

But now, the thing was, he didn’t care anymore. Not only about me, but his friends, or himself.

What scared me, though, was that he didn’t care about himself.

I remember…well, most, of what he told me last night.

I was scared, I’ll be honest in that much. I thought Newbie was getting better, that everything I thought was going wrong wasn’t. But my hunch was right. He wasn’t getting better. He was getting worse.

And for some reason, I think that one thing he said was right: everyone was blind to what was right in front of them. The reason no one seemed to care was that no one saw.

He was headed down a dangerous path, and I was the only one who saw it.

Not exactly a reassuring thought.

“Perry?”
“What, Jordan?”
“What happened last night? Why did you bring the sexy intern here with you, last night, completely wasted?”
“I was trying to perform psychological surgery.”
“And?”
“I ruined any chances of figuring out what goes on in that little head of his. He knows, now, to watch out for me.”
She soon gets the hint I wasn’t paying attention to my current world, and leaves me alone to try to convince myself that I don’t care, that he was lying, and that he was getting better.

Thank God. I had a lot to think through.

And so little time to do so.

It was now Monday morning, and I was thankfully mostly better from that hangover.

“Bambi? You’re going to have to take a look at rooms 202-204. This was all a bunch of doctors at a medical conferences, and something got into the food.”

Oh, joy. I hated actually caring for other doctors. Doctors make the worst patients.

“Carla? What kind of doctors?”
“Wide range, from surgeons to pediatrics. But mostly physicians, kinda like you.”
“Can you go check first? There’s a big chance that they already know what to do. If they do, just take the orders and put me down as the doctor for legality.”

She laughed and nodded.

“I’ll make sure they know you will take care of them if they can’t be trusted.”

I nod and just take a few other charts for the day.

“Oh, and Carla? Can you make sure Doctor Cox and I never meet? I am trying to avoid him.”
She shook her head in amusement, which for now I guess I could take as amusement, and she eased herself into her chair.

Yep, any day, I was going to get a goddaughter named Isabella.

So I went through most of my day as usual and just seemed to generally sneak around, a little. Janitor, of course, had to take most of a trashcan and dump its contents over me. The thing was when I did absolutely nothing except get up and go to take a shower, he seemed a little disappointed.

But apparently a whole life of avoiding people to live was no match for Doctor Cox searching for me, for he still found me trying to doze in a supply closet during my break instead of going to my on call room like usual.

I was lying there, my head leaned back against some blankets normally for patients, and I was on the verge of falling into a darkened bliss, when…

BANG

I jumped up and tried to crawl back, only to hit my head once again against a shelf, and I finally look up to meet the eyes of the last person I wanted to see at the moment.

“Doctor Cox, what do you want?”
He just stares for a moment.

“You’re an idiot.” He said simply.

I shook my head and got up, barely suppressing a wince when I hit my back against the corner of some box or something I hit. I think I cut something, too, because my neck was stinging like hell.

“I have to get back to work,” I said in a hopefully monotone voice.

“Newbie, a, you’re gonna have to talk to me at some point, and b, there’s blood on your shoulder.”
I look down and sure enough there was. I guess I did slice my neck by accident.

“Doctor Cox, what the hell do you want from me? I’m just trying to get to work and live a daily life.”
“While being half suicidal?”
I shake my head and try to walk out, but he stops me.

“Newbie, I just don’t like not knowing what’s going on. Care to fill me in? That why I know when to pull you out o’ something before you screw it up.”
“Why do you care? Look, let’s just get back to normal, we barely know each other, I ask you for advice you’ll never give me, and you hate me. Does that sound fair?”

As an odd look of shock passes over his face, I walk out the door, leaving him behind.

I breathe in a sigh of relief when I make it to the nurse’s station far away.

“Hey, Bambi. What’s wrong?”

“Doctor Cox won’t leave me alone.”
“What’d you do this time?”

“We got drunk and now he’s thinks I’m super depressed and going to jump off a cliff or something.

“What’s going on?” Turk said.

“Cox thinks Bambi’s going to go flying off a cliff,” Carla said, looking up. She stood up to talk to a patient about some insurance issue, before she turned back to us.

“Hey, baby,” Turk said. “What movie you wanna watch tonight?

Carla looked like she was about to say something, before she froze. She started sweating a little bit, and suddenly she cried out in shock. Then I heard a familiar noise, and saw the fluid.

Oh, god, no.

“HELP!” I cried down the hall to anyone who could hear, thankfully mainly to several doctors and nurses. “Carla’s water broke!”