Squuuuuee!! I seriously can't believe the response this story has got! I even have readers who aren't "Elliox" fans!!! xD Of course, that just makes me even more nervous about the rest of the story now. Uh-oh…

Thanks also to everyone who said I have Elliot's voice down! This chapter does contain Dr. Cox, so he'll probably be OOC, but hopefully everyone else will be alright!

Finally, the flashback takes place about a month after the Season 7 finale, so the last chapter took place four months after. Okay, great. Bear in mind that this chapter doesn't start off happy, but will get happier. –pinkie swears--

So, once again, with no further ado…

My Lapse In Judgment
My Flashback

I suppose, if you want to technical, this whole situation started seven years ago. I was twenty-five, an intern at Sacred Heart hospital. I was naïve and scared and, yet, excited. It was a whole new chapter for me. It's also where I met JD, Turk, Carla and, last but not least, Dr. Percival Cox.

Yes. Percival Cox. No lie.

But, of course, you don't want to be technical. It's not about how we met; it's about how we ended up in this frickin' situation.

So, really, it started three months ago…

"Elliot, what's wrong?"

Carla was standing in front of me, a chart clasped to her chest and concerned brown eyes watching me. I was more-or-less slumped on the nurse's station, miserable.

"Elliot."

"Keith and I had another fight," I pouted.

"What?" she cried, "Elliot, it's been two months!"

"Don't you think I know that?" I shot back, "He just won't get over it, Carla!"

"Well, I can see why," she reasoned, shrugging, "I mean, remember when you and JD broke up, and it took you so long to move on because you always had to see him?"

I scowled, "Carla! Aren't you meant to be siding with me?!"

"I'm not siding with anyone!" Carla snapped defensively, before deflating slightly, "Just try and see things from Keith's point of view."

I was just about to reply, yell or cry (I wasn't sure), when a rapid beeping started up in my pocket. I scooped out my pager and stared at it.

"What now?" I sighed, exhausted after a long day. I flipped open the screen and read the message.

"Mrs. Hillsdale's coding!" I almost shrieked, causing Carla to drop her chart. You see, Mrs. Maisie Hillsdale was one of my patients admitted a few days before, complaining about breathlessness and abdominal swelling. It turned out it was bowel cancer, severe enough that we needed to hospitalize her further and start chemotherapy straight away. But she was still a cheery, bright woman, only in her late fifties; how was it possible that she was dying already?

Only ten minutes later, I was standing over Mrs. Hillsdale, watching a nurse begin removing the breathing mask and switching off the monitors.

"Call it."

I couldn't help but wonder if I'd let Mrs. Hillsdale down somehow. I was so caught up in the problems with my own life that I was too distracted to care properly for her. She was supposed to get better.

"Barbie, call it."

I glanced up at Dr. Cox, defeated, before calling in monotone, "Time of death, 5:43."

Then I stalked out of the room, trying my best to regain my composure.

"Hey."

I glanced up and saw JD leaning on the wall. I was relieved to see a familiar, friendly (albeit goofy) face.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, sounding genuine, "I really am."

"Thanks, JD," I sighed, shrugging, "It's just…today's been so…"

I made some unnecessary hand gestures, unable to convey what I mean to him.

"So…bleah."

Bleah? Was that the fricking best I could come up with? Jeez.

Luckily, he understood my meaning anyway.

"Oh, yeah, I know. I get them all the time," he assured me, grinning in that totally JD-way of his. I felt a pang of guilt, as I remember he had not only similar crap to me, but on top of that a baby son.

"Don't you have to get Sam from Kim tonight?" I asked. He started and checked his watch.

"Oh, shoot! I've got to go!" he cried, before looking concernedly at me, "Do you…do you want to come?"

"What? Oh, no, I'm…I'm fine," I lied, "I have to talk to Mrs. Hillsdale's family, anyway."

He nodded and then, after awkwardly hugging me, ran down towards the elevator, muttering about how Kim will kill him if he's late again. I just stared after him, until the elevator pinged! and carried him away, before remembering that I did need to use to elevator, to talk to Mrs. Hillsdale's son and daughter, who have barely left the hospital since their mother's admission.

As heartless as it sounds, the next part isn't important. I know, to Mrs. Hillsdale's children, it was a life-changing moment; but it doesn't affect me or this story. The only reason I'm looking back on that day is to find out where I went wrong, and how I ended up…you know…pregnant.

So, I guess, the next important part was just after talking to them.

And I was crying in a closet.

… Again.

I hadn't cried in a storage closet for months, and yet it felt like greeting an old friend. The darkness was comforting as I sniffled and wiped my face again. It was stupid, a woman my age, a doctor, still ending up in tears after a tough day.

Just as I was about to leave (find a bathroom and make sure I removed all evidence of crying), the door I had supposedly locked swung open, revealing none other than Dr. Cox, his eyebrows immediately springing up.

"Well, well, Barbie, after seven years, you still hide in closets? I can't say I'm that surprised."

Normally I would've made some remark, clever or…er, otherwise, but at the time, all I could think was, Frick, frick, frick, frickedy-FRICK!

"Barbie?" he repeated, sounding a lot softer, "Are you…crying?"

"No!" I blurted out, before sniffing again and conceding, "Yes…"

He sighed, almost as if he would regret asking, "…why are you crying?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, "B-because today's been…s-so…"

"Oh, damn it, Barbie," he abruptly growled, shutting the door behind him and then reaching up to switch on the light bulb, "Why do you insist on sitting in the dark, exactly?"

I didn't reply; I was far too busy with my deer-caught-in-headlights look.

"Now, listen, Barbie, because you're only gonna hear this once: people die," he told me, "You should know that. People die every day, whether it's their time or…or whatever, but the point is, you're gonna get nowhere as a doctor if you don't accept that. People have died in your care before, and you can't let every time knock you on your ass, okay?"

How can I not, when I know I could've saved Mrs. Hillsdale? I think I'll ask him that.

"How can I – ?"

"It was just her time, Barbie," Dr. Cox interrupted – dare I say – gently, "You saw how bad her cancer was. It wasn't your fault."

I couldn't help smiling then. I don't know why I asked what I did next – impulsiveness, maybe? – but I opened my mouth, and said –

"Dr. Cox, would you go out for a drink with me?"

Oh, FRICK!!!!

That's where I went wrong! I – a vulnerable, tearful blonde – asked Dr. Cox – a borderline alcoholic, hard-on-outside-soft-on-inside maniac – out for alcohol. And he, being unable to say no to a girl with tears in her eyes due to not being totally heartless, said yes!

"Sure. What the hell," he replied, "Meet you out front?"

"Okay,"

I didn't know it, but in three months time I would be hitting my head on the wall at this.

I think you can guess what happens next. ;)

I know this was a weird place to end, and I know it was probably a crappy chapter and everyone was OOC, but I sort of ran out of steam. . Sorry! Hopefully the next one will be a lot better; we'll actually get to the present-day hospital!

So, anyway, please read and review!