A/N: I don't know why I wrote this; I've just always been interested in what Cox might have been thinking in that scene near the end of 'My Fallen Idol'...so here you go! My first fanfic- I've finally posted something!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Scrubs.

I pour more of the burning scotch down my throat, with the hope that soon I'll just pass out from the constant drinking and I won't have to go through any more of this. But no, the big guy upstairs felt it necessary to grant me a cast-iron liver, so I'm stuck here sitting next to Gandhi while he plays at being Dr Phil. Luckily my mind and emotions seem to be surrounded by sort of a fog. I haven't been feeling much of anything lately, so it's easier to tune out most of what Turtlehead is saying, though I do catch random words such as "basketball" and "Michael Jordan", making me re-he-heally glad that I'm missing whatever sports metaphor he's throwing my way.

Finally he stops talking, and the front door opens. It's Newbie. My brow furrows ever-so-slightly in confusion, though the haze enveloping me prevents much emotion from showing through. What the hell is Wendy doing here? Last I heard, he'd refused to play nursemaid with all his friends on account of my showing up to work less than sober.

Either way, he murmurs a goodbye to his other half and sits on the couch next to me with a sigh. I wait for him to begin, though honestly I have no idea how this is going to go. Is he about to offer empty condolences? Or maybe berate me for screwing up like I did? I know it shouldn't make a difference, but part of me hopes it isn't the latter.

"You're probably wondering why I didn't show up before, huh?" Newbie asks me.

I'm pretty sure I know. Guess I can't really blame him...coming to work trashed is an easy way to add another name to the list of people I've killed through my own stupidity...

"I know you wanted me to even though you'd never admit it," continues Katrina, looking over at me.

I prepare to roll my eyes, but I can't do it. Thinking that Newbie had finally given up on me after five years of an almost god-like status in his eyes was what had ultimately cemented this thick fog around me.

"Normally I would kill to get in this apartment," Newbie admits, "and you'd try and keep me out. I say 'try', because at your SuperBowl party-" here I look round with vague suspicion, wondering where he's going with this... "- which I was not invited to, I was lucky enough to be able to watch the second half from right over there."

The kid points to a spot near my TV, and now I'm thinking back to that night, trying to remember...

"I was the bearded Domino's employee you invited in because I said that I was a fan of Jerome Bettis, whoever the hell that is..."

My face shows slight puzzlement. I do remember inviting the pizza guy in... I'd had a good deal of alcohol by that point and Newbie's face was mostly obscured by pizza boxes, so I suppose luck was on his side...but once again, I can't bring myself to be angry. Hell, it'd be a stretch to say I'm even very irritated. Sneaking into my apartment, complete with a disguise, is so preposterous, so over the top...yet so very nawt surprising coming from Newbie...I'm probably more amused than anything. It's one of the first proper emotions I've felt in a while. But here the kid takes a more serious tone.

"Anyway, I tried to convince myself that the reason I didn't come earlier was because of you coming in to work drunk...but that's not it."

I glance at him again. How could that not be it? Now slight apprehension is breaking through the haze as Newbie turns to me once more...

"I was scared."

There's a longer pause, during which I take this confession in. He was scared? Not angry, not disappointed, not disgusted...I find Newbie's answer hard to believe, but it was said with that much sincerity that I know it's the truth. He starts to speak again, and I switch my attention away from my thoughts.

"I guess after all this time I still think of you as, like, this superhero that'll help me out of any situation I'm in. I needed that."

While this isn't coming as a big shock to me- anybody who's ever met Sarah before knows about his mentor obsession- what he said next was unexpected.

"But, that's my problem, you know, and...I'll deal with that."

The way he was able to just brush his hero worship off with that sort of maturity- a word which is sometimes difficult to apply to the kid...this is definitely one of those Newbie-moments which make me remember that despite all his incessant daydreaming; his goofy personality quirks; his overuse of hair gel; and the ease with which I can rant at and belittle him; the kid is a human being with feelings and problems- and a genuinely decent human being at that.

Usually these reminders are accompanied by a rare moment of sincerity from Uncle Cox- the time when his father died; in his second year when he couldn't figure out why he lost his patient and yet my identical one was still alive...but I still can't find enough energy to break out of my haze, so I remain silent as Newbie continues.

"I guess I came over here to tell you...how proud of you I am."

Curiosity and something like relief take hold inside of me.

"Not because you did the best you could for those patients-but because after twenty years of being a doctor, when things go badly you still take it this hard."

This is far from what I was expecting. For the first time since all this crap began, I can see it ending; the fog lifting. I can see the truth of what Newbie is saying. He isn't finished yet, though.

"And I gotta tell you, man, I mean...that's the kind of doctor I wanna be."

Even though I already knew about Newbie's desire to be like me, this time as he says it it means more. It means that he hasn't given up on me; I am still a doctor with patients and responsibilities and lives to save...and I can come back from this.

It also means that I'm realising, not for the first time, but maybe with even more certainty than before, that Newbie will be a great doctor, and- what the hell? What in Christ's name does Lauren think she's doing with that booze? As the kid takes a sip from his glass, I feel it's necessary to point out the obvious:

"You don't drink scotch."

Sure enough, without missing a beat, Newbie spits the drink back out, shuddering. He turns to me in disgust.

"That's awful."

I bring my own drink up to my lips, mostly to suppress the amusement that's threatening to break out across my face. Jesus, he really is a girl...

So there you have it! I've been thinking of doing a follow-up chapter of Cox's POV in that final scene where everyone's at the bar...what are your thoughts? I'm probably gonna write it no matter what your thoughts are, but still...

Review!! :)