Disclaimer:  I do not own Scrubs, nor do a make any profit from this fictitious story.

A/N: Okay, this is kinda short, but it's to introduce the future chapters, which will follow Turk, Carla, Eliot, and Dr. Cox as they relate themselves to the situation.  I hope you'll leave reviews because I'm curious to know what you think of the story.  Thanks, kids, and enjoy.

I'm No Superman

            They ran him into the ER and the shouting began.

            "110 over 50!  Pulse 116!"

            "What happened?"

            The EMT explained.  "I guess some kids were playing in the street when a car rounded the corner fast; one of the kids didn't think to move fast enough, so this guy ran out, pushed Junior to the curb, and got hit with the car himself.  He saved the kid's life—that's for sure."

            "Yeah, well, let's see what damage it did to our heroic little friend."

            "Baby, you seen JD?  We were supposed to have a pudding eating contest during break."

            "Carla?"  It was Eliot, looking more spacey than usual.  "Where's JD?  I need his opinion about a patient."

            Dr. Cox was the next one to ask, approaching the nurse's station just as Eliot finished her question.  "Where's Bobbie Jo, Carla?  I want him to do a smatechtotry on the patient in 142.  Then I'm gonna kill him for not answering his pager."

            Poor Carla was about to answer that she had no idea where her Bambi was when the phone rang.  "What?" she demanded, getting a little fed up with the neediness that surrounded her.  "Yes, why?  Is he down there?" she asked after a moment.  As she listened, her expression slowly grew more horrified.  After a couple minutes she hung up, but was too shocked to look up at her friend's curious faces.

            "Well, what is it?" Perry finally asked.  "You look like your favorite dog just died."

            "Yeah, what's the matter, baby?"

            "Are you okay, Carla?"

            She looked up at them with tears in her eyes.  "That was the ER.  JD was in an accident."

            While Turk comforted Carla and Eliot with a hug, Dr. Cox was quick to call the ER back.  He wanted answers, and if he had to kill someone to get them…well, he could live with that.

            "John Dorian.  What's his status?"


            Perry grit his teeth.  "John Dorian!  C'mon, you just called here; use that mass you call a brain and think!"

            Long pause.  "I think he's in surgery."

            "You think?  All right, listen up, Sparky:  I want you to go get the doctor who worked on him and bring him to the phone.  Okay?  Can you do that or do I need to call your mommy?"

            The other three might not have voiced it, but they appreciated Dr. Cox's forcefulness.  And it was effective.  JD's ER doctor was on the phone in seconds.

            "Danny Long here."

            "Danny?  It's Perry Cox.  We got a call from your department that you got a John Dorian down there.  What's going on?"

            Dr. Long waited a moment and then sighed.  "Come meet me in the cafeteria."

            Cox hung up the phone and marched towards the dining area.  Turk, Carla, and Eliot were right behind him.

            "Okay.  Talk.

            Long, who seemed to know Dr. Cox, didn't seem too upset by his abrasiveness.  "JD came in after he was hit by a car.  From what the EMT told me, he saw a kid about to get hit and ran to save him—a very heroic young man.  The car would have killed the child for certain.  But JD wasn't just hit; he was thrown over the top of the car.  I discovered an epidural hematoma, a ruptured spleen, and three broken ribs.  He's in surgery right now for the spleen and the hematoma.  Besides cuts and bruises, those are the extent of his injuries to my knowledge.  I can't say what's gonna happen."

            Eliot and Carla turned to Turk for comfort again, the tears flowing freely down their faces.  Even Turk was watery-eyed.

            "How did ER even know he's in our department?"

            Dr. Long shrugged.  "One of our staff recognized him.  Said she'd seen him working with the really psycho doctor.  I assumed that was you."

            "How?  I mean, it's JD.  Stuff like this can't happen to him," Eliot mumbled.  Carla grabbed her friend's hand and squeezed it encouragingly.

            "He's gonna be okay.  He's gonna be just fine."

            Perry stood up.  "Yeah, he might live.  And he might come out of the coma he'll be in.  And he might not have brain damage.  Wouldn't that be nice?  I need a drink."