"FINALLY!" Right?

So, hey guys! I know you've all been eagerly anticipating this, and I'm grateful for the patience that I have received. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, really, and I'm sorry if I get any of the 'science' wrong, but anyone who has seen that episode of King of the Hill where Bobby kicks Hank in the nuts will get what I'm talking about (google it and watch it, you won't regret it!). And, I'm looking for a beta by the way. I have SO many stories that I've started for this theme, but I don't think I'll be able to work on more than a few stories actively unless I have a little help.

I wanna give a shoutout to two stories that are in this theme, so, definitely go check them out! The first one I wanna mention is My First Erection by super67759, and the other is iGet It by SilverDragonRanger09. Don't forget to leave the authors reviews so that they can be encouraged and continue to add to this little faux-community (;

Of course, I'm gonna go ahead and give a shoutout to my own one-shot for this theme: iLike to Watch! Check it out, it's pretty hot :P

Special thanks to my reviewers, I just wanna say, thanks you for the support and please don't stop, because the more you bug me, the more I want to get you guys off my case by posting! I mean that in an endearing way.

Anyhow, enjoy!

I sit fidgeting and anxious in the emergency room alone as they examine Sam, or whatever they're doing to her that's taking so long. I can't help but feel terrible knowing that she was hurt because of me. It was an accident, and I'm sure that Sam understands that, but still – what if the damage is permanent?

I called Spencer while I was in the ambulance to tell him that Sam was hurt and we were going to the hospital. He was worried, but I assured him that everything would be fine and that I was going to stay with Sam overnight. He told me that it would probably be best for me to come home and rest, then go in the morning to see Sam and I relented because I didn't want him to worry too much – he didn't like when I was out too late after all.

When the ambulance arrived, it was about 1.30 AM. The paramedics actually thought that Sam and I were about to, er, 'do it' once they figured out what was what. I was so embarrassed that I could hardly even speak to defend myself. They told me that next time, I had to be more careful and that Sam should have been wearing a condom. I just nodded and told them that I would do my best, while Sam through all of her agony, still found the strength to smart-mouth them. I could still see Sam's annoyed face as the paramedics tried to identify if she was actually legally female.

"It's not like I have ambiguous fucking genitalia, it's a penis!"

"Sam, just calm down," I say, sighing in exasperation at the tension in the ambulance. It was making for an uncomfortable ride.

"No way! This guy thinks he's funny," she bites out a few pitches higher than her normal speaking voice due to her compromised testicles. She was referring to the paramedic on her left, Chad, who had been trying in a series of futile and terrible-ending attempts to cheer up the blonde after he had made the mistake of overlooked Sam's breasts and addressing her as a 'young man'.

"What are you talking about? Look at the size of that clitoris!" he said, pointing to Sam's crotch area, which was currently under bags of ice.

"Great, now he's ripping off Bob Saget jokes. Won't you just shoot me now?"

Luckily, the ride to the hospital wasn't too long, which brings me to the present moment of counting the tiles under my feet in an attempt to mask my overwhelming guilt.

"You're Carly Shay, correct?" a nurse asks as she approaches me with a clipboard, she looked worn out and she's watching me warily. I assume that dealing with Sam for however short time she did had lead her to believe that everyone in association with her was more than likely a sociopath, which is understandable because it happens to a lot of people.

I nod and stand from my seat. "Yeah, that's me."

"Alright, because when I asked the patient if she wanted me to contact anyone, she just muttered 'sexy brunette' over and over again until she got tired of moving her jaw, so she just sat in silence for a while staring at the ceiling. Then, she groaned something that sounded like 'Carl's Toupee,' not like that helped much. Finally, the doctor walked in and recognized her from some internet show and told me that you'd be in the ER waiting room according to your Hooter account that he follows."

"Hm, I guess that's the one time pointless Hooting has ever helped me," I say, grinning and eagerly awaiting any news regarding Sam's condition. "So, is she okay?"

"Well, the swelling has gone down considerably and she has been moved to a different wing for additional care and monitoring. She should be out of here in a day or two," the nurse informs me. "Would you like me to take you to see her? She's been asking to see 'Carl's Toupee' for the last hour."

A cheek-splitting smile spreads across my face at the idea of Sam asking to see me, despite the fact that I was the one who caused her all this pain in the first place. "Of course," I say, almost unable to contain a squeal of delight as the nurse nods and turns to lead me to Sam's hospital room.

.

"Hey," I say in a near-whisper, approaching slowly and sitting on the small, white folding chair beside her elevated hospital bed. The bed itself was bent at an angle so that she could sit up more comfortably. Her eyes follow my form across the room and she's smiling excitedly, most likely glad to see a familiar face in this disconcerting environment.

"Hey, kid," she greets me, adjusting her hospital gown which was ridden up so that I can see the bottom of what seemed to be akin to a cast over her private area. "I hate hospitals," she comments, and I know this to be a fact because… well, let's just say because of a previous incident that involved the elderly and a lot of old pudding.

"So," I begin tentatively. She didn't look upset at all, but she did look like she was fairly uncomfortable. "Does it hurt?" I ask, but the answer was obvious - she wouldn't be in the hospital right now if she wasn't in pain.

"Only when I move. And all the time," she relates, more for comedy than to make me feel bad, but I can't help it.

"I'm so sorry, Sam," I gush sorrowfully and it must be the ten-thousandth time I've apologized, but I still don't feel like it's good enough. "I really didn't mean to do this to you, I –" she cuts me off by holding her hand up and smiling at me so softly that the all of the bad feelings in me erode like the sand on a beach is eroded by waves. Yeah, that's it – her smile is the Pacific Ocean.

"Hey, cupcake, don't worry about it." Her voice is a near whisper and without my mind really knowing or consenting, my body had taken a few steps towards her and now I was standing next to the bed. "It was an accident, okay? I know you wouldn't hurt me like that on purpose, so I forgive you," she says, reaching up to stroke the side of my face with the back of her hand tenderly. "Plus, they gave me Vicodin when I came in," she admits, grinning like an imp.

"Thanks, Sam," I say, genuinely thankful for her being so forgiving and feeling the burden of guilt leave me for the most part, although I still knew that I would feel bad whenever I saw Sam's crotch-cast thing. Leaning down towards her, I wrap my arms around her shoulders, though being careful not to injure her further.

I hear her hiss briefly when she shifts her torso towards me, but she gulps down whatever pain or discomfort that she was feeling and embraces me as tight as she probably could. "No, thank you for staying," she says softly against my neck and I know that she meant it - her own mother was nowhere to be found and if it weren't for me, she would have no one. A warm feeling manifests itself in the pit of my stomach and then whatever that small spark was dies as I felt Sam inappropriately fondle my chest.

"What the -" I pull back and fix the blonde with a look of shock and betrayal. "Sam!"

"That was for kneeing me in the sack and bruising Dirty Dangerfield!" she shoots back, folding her arms over her chest, appearing totally unapologetic, and I guess it was kind of a fair trade-off except for the fact that I wasn't notified of said 'trade-off'. If that's what it would take for me to be wiped clean of my misdoings, then it was a small price to pay; not that I necessarily disliked it.

.

Sam's Point of View

I stare at the middle aged physician standing before me with my mouth agape as I try to gather my words up to a point where I would be coherent and he could understand me.

"So, you're saying my left nut is lost somewhere in my stomach and you can't find it?" I ask incredulously, my voice reaching a peak of height in its range. "What the hell are you talking about? The sack is just not the same without both of them!"

"Well, you see, the impact with your girlfriend's knee caused it to -"

"She's not my girlfriend," I interject sharply before I could stop myself, and mentally, I berate myself for my outburst, blushing furiously as the tall, graying man arches an eyebrow. "Wuh, I mean, will I be getting my nut back?" I ask calmly, blinking at the doctor with wide eyes and an unnerving smile. When in doubt, creep them out. I'm loaded up with enough Vicodin to make this work.

"Er, well, of course," he answers nervously, averting his gaze from me and looking down, shuffling the papers in his hands.

"How long will it take?" I question again, this time without the strange expression. I examine the black stethoscope that hangs around his neck and it occurs to me that I was going to miss House unless I could find it on the hospital's television.

"It could take a few days," he muses out loud, scratching his mustache absently, then shrugs. "Or it could take two weeks, you just have to wait it out. Until then, be very careful and conscious when moving your body, and don't strain yourself further," he advises, writing on a small piece of paper that I assume was going to be for my pain-killer prescription.

"This sucks," I whine, running a hand through my tangled, curling locks. "I was supposed to get laid this weekend, too."

"You should count yourself lucky," he informs me. "I'd kill to have a pecker your size. But don't worry, I'll hook you up," he says and I'm wondering what he could mean.

As a near afterthought, he continues. "Also, you're going to have to wear this for three weeks," he says, pulling something out of his pocket and holding it up for me to see. I groan in distaste as my face falls down into my hands in dread.

"Wow, so you're gonna have to wear a protective cup for three whole weeks?" Carly asks, looking guilty and fascinated at the same time.

"Yeah, it's so lame," I grumble, crossing my over my chest. My head turns as I hear the door open, and I don't regret wasting my neck energy to do that one bit.

"Hey, I hope I'm not interrupting anything," a drop-dead gorgeous blonde woman steps into the room cautiously. She's tall and dressed in the hospitals nursing uniform, but I'm still finding it hard to keep my tongue from lolling out of my head at the mere sight of her.

"I'm Ray and I'm going to be your night-time nurse for the next few days. I'm just going to check you out a little bit, and then I'll be administering your pain killers," she says in a friendly voice, sending a warm smile my way before she checks up on my chart, briefly scanning it before getting to work.

"Uh..." I was at a loss for words. "Awesome," I finally mutter, eying the other blonde up and down. "Maybe this hospital visit won't be so bad," I comment, and Carly rolls her eyes, shaking her head. She looks like she's going to respond, but the door opens again a moment later.

"Hey, kiddo," Spencer makes his presence known as he stands in the doorway. "Sam, are you okay?" he asks, sounding concerned. The tall man looks like he hasn't showered in two days and that looks like a shirt he was wearing the last time we saw him. I could only theorize on what he's been up to.

"Hi Spencer," Carly greets her older brother and she appears to have noticed his scraggly appearance as well, though she chooses not to comment on it.

"Yeah, you know me," I say, confidently. "I'm indestructible," I declare, but it seems that he's only just noticed Ray because he's openly staring and it looks like his pants might fall to the floor at any moment.

"That's... great, Sam," he answers me absently while gawping at the nurse. "Hi, I'm Spencer Shay, Carly's older brother," he introduces himself, smiling charmingly as he took an approaching step towards her, holding his hand out for her to shake.

The blonde turns to him and smiles sweetly. "Only one visitor allowed in the room at a time," she informs him in a sterile manner before turning away from him to continue her work.

Spencer turns to stare blankly down at the floor for a moment with his eyes wide before he shrugs and walks out of the room. Carly and I share a laugh before she hugs me again and places a kiss on my cheek.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" she says looking at me with her large brown eyes, and I blush a little and nod.

"Yeah, see ya, Carls," I say, my voice harboring a hint of a flustered tone, but I get my confidence and give her a smack on the ass as she turns to go, earning me a sharp yet playful look as I watch her take her exit, which left me in the room alone with my attractive nurse.

What a complete dilemma.

A minute goes by before I decide to speak. "You know, you're probably one of the most gorgeous women I've ever seen," I comment offhandedly. "I'd love to take you out some time."

The way I see it, being bold is an art I have mastered, because even without my left nut I still have the balls to try and talk game to my sexy caretaker.

After processing what I said, she giggles shyly and continues her work. "Thank you very much, but I'm not really interested in girls," she replies, not looking up to meet my gaze.

Not one to easily be deterred - unless you count moments of pure laziness - I decide to push the envelope. "Well then, what if I told you that there was a seven inch penis under these sheets?" I question, eyeing her intently and donning my best poker face - I like to call it the Puckett Poker Extreme and it is 100% unbreakable. She turns to look at me, eyes finally meeting mine, and she's blushing a tiny bit, although it could just be my imagination.

"I'd say that you're bonkers," she replies, her electric blues alight with curiosity.

"Good, because I'm lying," I declare matter-of-factly, shrugging before a smirk creeps onto my face. "It's actually eight inches," and she's giving me a mixture of confusion and fascination. Hooked.

Right when she looks like she's about to respond to me, I speak again to cut her off. "I've been here for over an hour and I still haven't been fed," I say, less of an observation and more of a complaint.

She gives me a look before walking across the room to examine my chart again, flipping a few pages. "It says here that you'll be brought breakfast at eight AM," she dictates and I groan audibly. "Are you hungry?" she asks, and I can tell from her voice that she's very compassionate. Score for me, because that means I can probably manipulate her.

"If I don't eat soon, I'll probably die," I deadpan and she smiles in amusement. "I'm glad you think it's funny," I mutter, hopefully adding guilt into the mix.

"I don't," she defends herself while grinning. "I'll go get something from the cafeteria," she says before leaving me alone to formulate.

I HOPE SOMEONE NOTICED: The part about Wendy being a mind reader was indeed a shout out the cool/neat story , starring Wendy, iKnow How You Feel by K9GM3. I actually like that pairing and I'll be putting some work into that ship soon, if I have time.

Hooter, my own 'Schneiderism' for Twitter :P It really is an art.

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