Well, here's chapter two! Sorry if I've kept you guys waiting; even with me knowing what's going to happen in this story, I've been really busy, and haven't had as much time to write as I would have liked. Oh well, can't be helped.

Anyway, I think this chapter is slightly more depressing than the last one, and that also contributed to my lack of update. Writing as a depressed JD is harder that I first thought. But I think, gradually, I'm getting the hang of it.

Oh yeah, thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter one—I love getting feedback from my readers, to see how they like the story so far.

Well, that's it! Hope you enjoy!

Carla's POV

I've noticed over the years, that people don't pay as much attention to us nurses as they used to. Which I find odd, considering we're stationed practically in the center of the hospital. We witness everything that goes on around us—as I like to put it, we're the "eyes and ears" of Sacred Heart. Nothing gets past us. Nothing at all. And yet, the longer I work here, it seems the people nowadays view us as invisible—and not just the patients, but some of the staff members as well. It's amazing how many times people walk by, saying or doing crude things—sometimes about us—and don't even realize me and some of the others are perfectly aware we're watching them.

I've even caught Turk doing that once in a while, though since becoming a father, he's learned to be a bit more responsible—plus, he knows if he even thinks about doing anything like that again, I'll nail him to the wall.

Although, I think what bugs me the most is that people only really come to us when they absolutely need something. Now, with patients, I can understand; after all, they're usually inclined to ask their doctors if they have a question, so when they come to us, it's because the doctors are unavailable. And I'm okay with that.

What I'm not okay with, is when the hospital staff does the same thing. I mean really, it's been how many years? And they still think they can ignore us except when it's convenient for them? Give me a break….

"….um….m-maybe you should let me or one of the o-others do that…."

I look up, familiar with the shaking nervous voice of yet another intern, and follow it to the source. As I suspected, there's a clump of young doctors huddled around a patient's bed, watching an older, sickly looking doctor in the center, trying—with difficulty—to put in an IV. I raise one of my dark eyebrows, studying the scene with mild interest. It's apparent many if not all of the interns are uncomfortable with this 'demonstration,' uncertainty clearly showing in their eyes. As for the doctor himself, well, aside from his apparent lack of focus, he's so frail looking that I'm guessing even the slightest breeze could knock him over.

I find myself siding with the interns on this one, a sense of embarrassment coming over me as I watch this pitiful display….they know as well as I do the high percentage that he'll miss if he tries to stick the IV into the patient's arm, what with that hazy look in his eyes. Actually, I'm surprised someone in such a condition even came to work today….

"….um….Dr. Dorian….?"

I hear one of the interns—a different one this time—say, their voice gentle, but still wary. That doesn't surprise me.

What does, however, is when the doctor holding the IV looks up, answering to that name. Dorian.

My eyes widen now, and suddenly I'm observing the scene in a whole different perspective. That….that man….he can't really be….

"JD!" I holler, rushing over to him, "give me that." I snatch the small tube from his shockingly pale hands with ease, smiling all the while so as not to alarm the younger doctors. JD looks at me, his usually bright pupils glazed over, and I'm greeted with the defeat and….hurt?...residing in each one. But he keeps a straight face, never giving in and steps aside, making room for me to complete the job he couldn't. That's so like Bambi; remaining professional no matter what his condition may be.

Although, as I slide the IV into his patient's forearm, I'm hit with a pulse of concern. What, exactly, happened to him? How did he end up like—

"Carla?"

I stop what I'm doing and turn to face JD. "Yes, Bambi?" I ask, recognizing it was him who called me.

He starts to speak, but stops just as abruptly, bringing a hand to his mouth and shutting it tightly. I can tell, even through his closed lips, that he's gagging, and, though I'm concerned, do nothing to stop him when he decides to drop the conversation and sprint down the hall towards the nearest men's room.

JD's POV

After spending the last ten minutes dry heaving into the toilet, I'm now standing at the sink, head pressed against the mirror and doing everything in my power not to cry. Damn, I'm such an idiot. What the hell was I thinking? My interns have no doubt lost faith in me, not only did I manage to fail at completing a simple task in front of them, but I can't even remember what their names are anymore. My patients….well I've just about screwed myself over with them—I don't even want to know what they think of me now. Can't even put in an IV….what kind of doctor am I? And to top it all off, I had to be 'rescued' by a nurse; who just so happened to be Carla. She took the damned thing right out of my hand, not only humiliating me and proving to my interns what a wreck I really am, but when she came over to 'help' as I'm sure she'd like to call it, she was smiling.

Smiling.

She couldn't even tell there was something wrong with me. And yes, I know I try to be professional, but come on! I've seen what I look like, and want to admit it or not, there's no way people are going to believe I'm perfectly fine.

I'm not even sure I do, anymore.

Another pang of fear strikes me, and I remove my head from the glass, once again staring at my reflection. I need help—I know I do. I'm not going to pretend my life is just peachy when it's obviously not….

….it's just that….

….I'm pretty damn sure no one in this hospital actually cares. Dr. Cox sure doesn't, in fact; he makes me feel worse than I already do. And Carla….well, I tried talking to her, before I had to run to the bathroom….but by the way she handled that last situation….I'm starting to think she doesn't either.

My eyes meet those of the man in the mirror's, and suddenly I'm hit with the reality….the severity….of the situation. Staring into those hollow, azure pupils that used to be filled with so much hope….so much life. Feeling the cold emptiness gnawing relentlessly at my chest. My….unhealthily….thin figure.

It scares the shit out of me….

….I hear a creaking noise coming from one of the walls suddenly, and instantly straighten, pulling my eyes away from the mirror, and refocusing them on the now opening door. Dammit, I think, taking several deep breaths in a last attempt to pull myself together. Whoever's on the other side of that door, I'm pretty sure I don't want to see at the moment. Especially if it's Dr. Cox….

…. "JD? Is that you in there?"

I know that voice. "Turk?" I ask, even though I know perfectly well it's him. Sure enough, the cocky but talented surgeon that's been my best friend since college burst through the door, a broad grin on his face.

Dammit, why does everyone around here have to smile so much?

"Hey man," Turk replies, coming over to me, "what's up?"

I say nothing, but in my head, I sigh. Out of all the questions he could have asked, he picked that one. 'what's up.' Well quite frankly, Turk, I'm not sure how to answer that.

"….JD?"

Huh? I see the perplexed look on his face, and it dawns on me—this may be the first time in a long time that I haven't immediately answered anything Turk says. Well, can't have that.

"I'm okay." I say quickly, preparing to leave….wait a minute. What the hell are you doing? You're not okay, or did the past ten minutes in here teach you nothing? Turk's right there, you idiot, now's your chance to ask for some help!

But—

Do it!

Knowing the voice in my head is right, I come to a stop, mentally getting ready for what I believe is going to be a long and very complicated talk….

….and then, looking at my best friend, I'm reminded of something else. Of how, over the past few weeks, he's been completely wrapped up in his personal life; seemingly endless surgeries, focusing nearly all his attention on his wife….always busy with his daughter….it's like I've become completely invisible to him. Like he doesn't ca—

—but….he noticed you now, right? Said hello to you, didn't he? So there's got to be a part of him that still cares. That….that might actually listen to me if I tell him the truth.

"Uh, Turk?" I inquire, pushing the words out of my mouth. He turns.

"Yeah?"

This is it. No going back now. "Um, actually….I'm not okay. At all."

Turk's cheerful expression changes then—now clearly confused. "Really?"

I feel like some kind of weight is being lifted from me. He's listening to me! He's actually listening! "Yeah." I continue, still scared I could still lose this window of opportunity, "I-I think I….I might be—"

Bzzzzeep!

Oh no. Not that sound. My eyes shift to my waist, to the small black pager attached to the side of my pants. I don't think I was paged; one, I have this haunting suspicion that news of what happened this morning is already floating around the hospital, and two, the sound was coming from somewhere near me and not directly on me.

I again change my view so that I'm looking at Turk again, and something inside be seems to die when I he's holding his pager.

You've got to be kidding me.

"Look, JD" He says, putting down the device and throwing glances at the door, "can we finish this later? I really have to take care of this."

I know what I should say, what my response should be….but for reasons I can't explain, all I can do is nod, while a painful knot twists in my stomach. Turk, however, is back to smiling.

"Thanks, man." He says, waving slightly as he bolts from the men's room without a second glance.

I watch him go, and whatever relief of pressure I temporarily had is now back, hitting me harder than before. My body starts to tremble and I can feel tears forming in my eyes.

I knew it.

I'm not important to Turk anymore.

Poor JD. Things aren't looking too good for you, huh?

Well, that's it for this chapter. Hm, it was kind of interesting writing as Carla. Not nearly as entertaining as Kelso, but still, something different.

Oh, speaking of this, I kind of did the whole "Carla/JD POV thing" like that on purpose, to show that while his friends are becoming aware something is wrong, JD (while he knows something's wrong himself) is still depressed, and whether he knows it or not, it doesn't change the fact that he really doesn't think any of his friends do care.

Anyway, please review!