Author's Note: I do not own the television show Scrubs or any of its characters.

My goal is to actually finish a story, instead of losing ideas after the first chapter. I'm sorry about my lack of ability to even get to chapter two and I will be working on that. But I will warn you guys: I have marching band practice everyday and the updates will most likely only be on weekends once school starts. When I was working on Our Overwhelming Guilt, I updated on Sunday, so this story will probably be updated that day too.

On with the story...

His Trip From Hell

When I woke up this morning, I knew it was going to be a horrible day. It isn't the fact that I woke up to Jennifer screaming in my ear, or Jack's inability to get the cereal in his mouth, or even Jordan's morning breath, it's the fact that I have to spend the next forty-eight grueling hours with the Power Puff Girls, plus Carla. It's not like at work when I can just walk in a different direction or plant myself in front of the television, no, I actually have interact with these assholes. Big Bob's got us all going to this medical conference in New York and, long behold, I get stuck with the worst group of them all.

Carla isn't so bad, but having Newbie, Gandhi, and Barbie all in the same car together for over sixteen hours is surely going to end with me bashing my head through the window. I can see it now: Gandhi shoving burgers into his mouth like there is no tomorrow, Barbie and Carla talking so much that my ears will indeed bleed, and Newbie flipping through the newest edition of Teen Magazine and yapping on about his favorite celebrity's new fedora. Oh God, I might actually kill them all.

Yep, today is the day. I can feel it.

Now that I'm on my way to the hell-hole that is the place that I get the privilege of calling work, I'm enjoying the peace and quiet. Lord knows it's only bit I'm going to get for the next day. I take it in like it's oxygen and let it soak into my skin, which finds a way to calm me down. Just as I get to my happy place, I pull into the parking lot of the hospital and my jaw clenches. I contemplate crashing right into Bobbo's car.

Nah. Too easy.

I basically drag myself out of my car and pull my single suitcase out of the trunk with ease, which causes me to look down at my wonderful, flexing muscles. Perry, could ya get anymore buff? The answer to my mental question is yes, but since I have to travel the United States with the people that I hate most, I decided to just go ahead and discard my diet for the time being. Hell, if I wanted a steak with mashed potatoes and a slice or two of chocolate cake for dessert, I'll eat it, but only because of the circumstances I'm under.

Striding into Sacred Heart is the worst part of the day. Everyday I walk into this place with intentions of not killing someone, and then I get knocked flat on my ass. At least this time I come in here knowing that I'm leaving shortly and will then be...even the thought of my weekend nauseates me. I shake my head and curse numerous times before I actually step through the front entrance. Once I'm inside, I see Carla, Gandhi, and Barbie huddled together, laughing hysterically. I clench my jaw as my eyes begin to get wider. This, my friends, is what I'll be dealing with all weekend. Don't ya feel sorry for me?

Everyone's wearing one of those cheesy "I love NY" t-shirts and a pair of jeans, and as I look down at my Red Wings jersey, I feel proud to stand out. At least this way people may know that I hate being with them. I walk over to their group and as soon as I growled to let everyone know I am here they spread farther apart, knowing that the clique thing drives me nuts.

"Hi, Dr. Cox!" Barbie chirps.

"Shh...Barbie. It's quiet time." I put my finger to her lips.

"But you just got here."

"Still doesn't change the fact that it's quiet time. Now, where the hell is Sheila? If I have to spend one more second in this place, I will kill the person closest to me." I see Barbie back up some more, but Gandhi and Carla hold their ground. I'm not sure why I am so eager to get out of the hospital, seeing as my current situation is far worse, but I just can't stand to be here sometimes. It literally makes every part of my body ache uncontrollably and I can only take so much pain.

Just as I finish, Newbie makes his way over to us, but there's something different about him. For starters, he's not wearing the matching outfit, which I figure he would simply adore, just a pair of blue jeans and a black jacket. There are deep, dark circles are underneath his eyes, the same ones that have been there for the last few weeks. His usually overly-girly-styled hair is flat and doesn't seem to have any hair product in it at all, which is the most stunning of them all.

"What are we all standing around for? Let's go!" Barbie leads the way out of the hospital, her three suitcases lugging behind her. She trips multiple times over her own two feet and I can't help but chuckle at her incoordination. As Ghandi and Carla go forward, I notice Newbie's hesitating, so I give him a nod that tells him to continue on. The kid looks scared to death, like if he went in front of me, I would rip off his head and feed it to my goats. Except, I don't have any goats, so that wouldn't work anyway. He lags his single suitcase along and that's when I notice how stiff his shoulders are. He's usually so relaxed, but he seems tense. In fact, he's seemed like this for a while now. I can't remember seeing the normal Newbie in a long time.


No, no, no, no, no. What the hell am I saying? Damn, that kid is really starting to rub off on me with all this "care for people" crap. Percival Cox doesn't care, that's what I'm notorious for, that's why people know who I am. Why does this kid have such an affect on me? I try to shake the feeling that something's wrong off and I succeed, but there's still something floating around in the back of my mind. I growl in disgusted and head out the hospital doors, appalled by just how much Newbie irks me.

Here we are, four hours in, and Gandhi's gotta piss again. This is the sixth time he has went since we left the hospital and it's just getting old. I mean, come on. How much urine could really be in there? Not much, would be my guess. As he gets out of the rental van, Carla orders him to get her a bag of pretzels and some water and Barbie asks him to her a cupcake, which doesn't seem like something they would sell at a gas station, but oh well.

"Do you want anything, Dr. Cox?" Carla asks me, turning around in her seat.

"For the love of God, you ask me this every time we stop. If I didn't want something five minutes ago, I don't want it now." I snapped at her because I am annoyed by how this drive is turning into my worst nightmare. No, it isn't my worst nightmare now, but it's getting there. My worst nightmare is my parents somehow coming back to life because I, honest to God, don't know how the hell I would deal with that. Eh, I would probably go kill them myself, but then there's that whole jail thing, losing my medical license, and rotting with a bunch of thugs and thieves and trying not to look at the tattoos while they're tinkling.

Newbie's half-conscious. His eyes keep fluttering open and close and I have half a mind to tell him to knock it off, but then I remember that he can't help it and that he looks like he needs some sleep. But then I also remember that this is the kid who kept me working the whole night when he was an intern and that it would just be fun to keep him awake, and I almost punch him in the shoulder when Carla turns back around.

"Leave Bambi alone!" She reaches out and pushes my hand back.

I fold me arms over my chest and just look stare out the window.

"What's wrong with you? You've been acting more pissed than usual."

"Nothing," I bark back.

"Fine. Sorry I even bothered."

"No problem, next time just try not to use your words." I'm surprised she didn't turn back around and scold me, but she just stayed facing forward. I move my arms and place them on top of my head, exhaling deeply. Only twelve more hours to go. Only twelve more hours to go.

Aw hell, twelve hours is just way too long to be stuck in a car with these people.

The twelve hours come and go just like that. Huh, I wish I can say that. I wish I can tell you that the trip went smooth sailing and that we all got along, but that's just a down-right lie. Between Ghandi's lame ass jokes, Carla being pissed at me, and Barbie's uncontrollable urge to annoy everything on Earth, I was close to going nuts.

But then there was Newbie, silent the whole trip. I don't think he uttered more than three words during the journey. He spent most of that time just slouched down, giving the rest of us the cold shoulder, listening to his iPod without a care in the world. Nobody bothered him though. Did I miss something? Was there a memo that was passed around saying to leave him alone? If so, I never got the message.

We're here at the hotel now and Newbie looks like he's going to fall over any second. He's leaning on the check-in counter, hunched over, his face buried in his arms. The kid must really be burnt out. I guess it makes sense though, he's worked three double shifts and a forty-eight hour rotation within two weeks, he's gotta be exhausted. As soon as Carla's checked in and we get our room numbers, we all cram into the elevator and ride up to our floor. At this moment, I realize something.

There are only two rooms.

Surely, that's gotta be a mistake. I mean, it has to be. There are five of us and only four beds. Oh Dear Lord, this can't be happening. Wait, I don't even know what the sleeping arrangement is yet. Nothing to worry about. Carla stops at room four hundred twelve and presses the key into my hand. "This is your and J.D.'s room," she informs me. Something inside of me breaks and I can feel my face heating.

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Dr. Cox, they only give two rooms per group for this conference. Elliot's going to be sleeping in the same room as me and Turk, which leaves you and J.D. with the other room."

"You have got to be kidding me."

Carla shakes her head. "I'm not kidding you."

"Wait, Newbie and Barbie used to share a bed, why can't they do it again? That way I get this room all to myself." It is such a grand idea, but Carla isn't buying it.

"You're sharing a room with him."

I roll my eyes. "Fine. Newbie, come." I open the door up and lead him inside, slamming it hard enough for the pictures on the wall to shake. He stumbles forward and lays his bag on the floor before practically falling into the bed. He rolls over to where he's facing the wall and curls up into a ball, seeming to forget my presence. Hey, I can live with that.

Here I am, on a weekend medical conference from hell with five people that I can't stand to be around, one of which is ever-so-slightly worrying the crap out of me. How can things possibly get any worse?

Author's Note: I'm really sorry that this is so slow, but I had to introduce you guys to the , what did you think? Did I get Dr. Cox in character, or was he totally out. If he is, please tell me and I'll be sure to fix it. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! Remember, reviews are always appreciated!