I AM SO SORRY…

It's been forever since I've updated, but I just got my new laptop through and am now powering on! So here's the long-awaited Chapter 4... Review, people, review! After all, it's you that I'm dedicating this story to!

I'm writing a new chapter as I post this one, so replies to reviews will be on that chapter!

- Kitty.

Chapter Four - False Ground

JD POV

Turns out I was right after all. Mrs. Berry had stomach cancer.

It was way past my shift, just slipping from 11:59 to midnight, but all I could do was sit in the dark staffroom and wonder what gave the world the right to give such a lovely old lady such an aggressive, almost definitely fatal disease. The chart was there, in my hands, and I kept glancing at it as if it'd make a difference – but it still said the same thing.

I sighed and glanced at my watch; my shift had ended three hours ago. No doubt if I checked my cell, I'd have frantic messages from both Turk and Carla, demanding to know where the hell I was. No doubt if I hadn't thrown my pager into the car park, I'd find I had millions of pages from Dr. Cox and whoever else may have been trying to track me down for the last hour of my shift. I just couldn't face anyone. I think it was something to do with Dad, just adding to the reality of death – but whatever it was made it hard to accept that I had to deliver the worst news of Mrs. Berry's life. And soon.

As I sat, involved in my thoughts, the door creaked open a little, light spilling into the darkened room.

"JD?"

I didn't bother looking up. I knew Elliot's voice, and I knew she was genuinely worried – but at that moment in time, I couldn't handle anyone trying to be nice to me. It seemed like everything was hitting me at once, and it was hurting. So much I knew that I'd either end up hurting her or whoever else came in, or hurting myself.

"Are you… okay?" She came over and sat down gingerly next to me, tucking her hands underneath her legs and keeping her distance - smart move. If I were her, I probably would've bestowed hugs already. "I heard about Mrs. Berry from Carla… do you wanna talk about it? I've got half an hour or so -"

"It's okay Elliot. I don't really feel up to talking."

She nodded, but I knew she didn't really get it. She couldn't. No one could. I couldn't help but wallow in my self-pity, it was just so easy to do. First Dad and now this – I could tell that the next few weeks were going to drag, and that no matter what I did, I couldn't stop it. Elliot, obviously sensing me retreating back into my shell, patted me awkwardly on the shoulder and stood up, walking to the door and then pausing for a second.

"If you need anything -"

"I know."

The door closed quietly. Part of my brain told me that I should leave too, go home and have a hot shower and go to bed – but hell, it was only 7 hours until my next shift. I could just stay here for the evening and wallow, wallow, wallow until there was nothing else left to think about but what a pathetic figure I must cut right now.

I sighed. My mind ran back over the day, trying to see when I'd hit a new wall of hopelessness. I realised with a minimal moment of surprise that it hadn't, in fact, started when I'd been handed Mrs. Berry's results just hours, but instead when I had asked Dr. Cox if he had wanted to go out for lunch for half an hour, wherever he wanted. The look that he had given me was so…

…cold? No, that was the wrong word. It'd been one of complete indifference, the casual shrug of the shoulders seeming sharper, more abrupt than usual. His eyes had been blank as he replied with a short "no thanks" – no Newbie, Carol, Angela – and at that moment, it felt like my stomach was curling in on itself, an ache starting that I couldn't just get rid of with painkillers.

He'd been more than my mentor yesterday.

Now he was less.

Was I going to keep losing the people that were important to me? Granted, I still had Turk, Elliot, Carla – even Dan when he could get himself together – but it felt like everything was slowly disintegrating around me, with nothing to hold onto but –

"Go home, JD."

My head whipped round to face the door, Dr. Cox's body silhouetted in the doorway. My stomach dived and my head became light – for more than one reason. Firstly, of course, I hadn't answered any of my pages during my shift, and had thrown it into the parking lot an hour before it ended. Secondly, there was not a line of anger on his face; only that indifference again, arms folded, clearly not here to play Saviour. Thirdly – well, how could I not notice? He called me JD. Not Newbie, Pamela, Glenda, Rachel, Abby – but JD. Even in my numbed stupor, it was something big.

I must've been staring as these thoughts paraded around in my brain, because he sighed and walked further into the room, letting the door shut behind him. The room was dark again, the only light seeping in from the window in the door. "I said go home, Newbie – you've had a tough day."

What did he know? He hadn't been around. As I recall, he'd pretty much left me on my own the entire day, other than to ask me to chase up those results for Mrs Berry.

"M'fine," I mumbled, turning away from him and resting my head on my hands. The room was suddenly crowded – I wanted to be on my own, really wanted to be alone.

"No you're not," he replied tonelessly. "You're over-tired, hungover and grieving over two people, one of which isn't even dead yet. I'd say that's a pretty good reason against you being fine. So do us all a favour and go home."

I looked up, not caring that my hair was now looking suitably ruffled from my pawing. "I don't need to go home. I don't need anyone telling me it, either. I just need to be on my own."

"You think that's going to solve it all?" he laughed quietly, shaking his head as he looked over my head at the clock. "Let your mind run over and over the things that could drag you into that nice, dark hole you've been digging and maybe, just maybe you can stay there 'til all of this goes away? No, Newbie, that's not the way it works. You need to pull yourself out of it and move on. Otherwise -"

"Otherwise what?" I interrupted, my voice slightly louder than before. "Otherwise I'll end up like everyone else in this place? Turned off from their feelings so that for every patient they face, all they're seeing is an extra job to do, an extra test to take?"

"Newbie," Dr. Cox said, a warning tone in his voice. I chose to ignore him.

"No, but seriously - wouldn't that make your life so much easier? No more 'Newbie' to worry about, no more chasing after me every time one little thing goes wrong 'cos you're worried I'll go off in the deep end. No more…" I waved my hands around, losing my grasp on what I was talking about. Frustrated, I pressed my palm heavily against my forehead. "Just no more 'anythings' to do with me."

It was quiet for a while, and for a moment I thought that maybe he'd gone, maybe he'd just walked out whilst I had my moment and left me as I'd asked. When I glanced through the web of my fingers however, he was still there, still looking at the clock.

Dr. Cox let his eyes move back down to look at me for a moment. "First of all, Gloria, you seem to forget that you are not a part of my life. Yes, you make a guest appearance every day, follow me when all I want to do is be alone, and disappear whenever I need a hand - that, however, is not being part of my life, and I'll ask you never to refer to yourself as being a part of it ever again. Do you understand that, Nancy?"

I nodded, suddenly too overwhelmingly tired to care.

"Secondly, one of the only reasons, and I mean this sincerely, one of the only reasons that you pass as a relatively good doctor -" even at that comment, I felt nothing, not one spark of pride - "is your ability to feel. I'm not saying it's a good thing in general, nor am I saying I respect you for it - but if you did in fact become another doctor who turned themselves off from everything around them and merely did their job, well, I'm not sure that your skills as a doctor would be enough to get you through another year."

I stared at him, trying hard to focus on the words. Was he actually telling me now, at one of the lowest moments I could recall, that I was failing as a doctor?

"Now don't look at me like that," he chastened lightly, looking at me in a way that made me wish he would leave me alone. "I'm just telling you like it is."

"Well maybe I don't need that right now," I said sarcastically, flopping back onto the couch. "As I said. Maybe I just need to be alone."

The silence came round again. I hated it. I'd be fine if it were silent because I was on my own, but knowing that Dr. Cox was there, looking at me, analysing me, judging me even… well, it made me want to physically force him from the room. And I remembered how angry he got last time I was physical against him, and didn't want to do it again.

"As much as I'm going to regret this… I'm not leaving. Not until you agree to leave too."

I laughed, covering my eyes with my arms. "Do you really care that much?"

"No," he replied, sounding slightly irritated. "I need a ride home."

Behind my arms, I blinked. What did he just say? Did he actually just admit that the only reason he was here was… because he needed a ride home?!

I moved my arms and sat up, finding his eyes with my bleary ones. Nope, he was being totally serious - I could tell from the tightness of his jaw and the frustration in his eyes. He really did need a lift, and I could tell (gleefully) that it left a really sour taste in his mouth to have to ask me for a lift when he so rudely drove off without me this morning.

"Well, well, well," I said smugly, standing up and putting my hands on my hips. "Perry Cox, asking his lowly follower for a ride home?"

"Don't push it, Newbie," he said quietly, not blinking as I met his gaze. I simply grinned.

"What's the lift home worth, Perry? A week of rides in the Porsche?"

"Newbie," he warned again, his jaw tightening even more. Still, I didn't stop.

"Me calling you 'Perry' for a week without you punishing me?"

He brought his arms out of their folded position and instead clenched his fists as his side.

"You calling me Dr. Dorian -"

"Too far, Newbie," he growled, reaching forward and pulling me forward. For one short, crazy second I thought he was about to hug me or (my mind went blank) even kiss me, but instead, the harsh grip on my arms shoved me towards the door, his other hand reaching out and flinging it open. I tried to glance over my shoulder at him, but he pushed me again. "Don't try and look at me, or I swear to God I will punish you."

I kept my eyes trained ahead of me as he guided me roughly to the elevator, and kept them fixed on the doors as he pushed the button for the ground floor.

Dr. Cox POV

Good. It had worked. The Newbie that I had come across on that couch was now almost back to his annoying, whiny self as the elevator made its way slowly to the ground floor. Not that I had done it all for him - I really did need a lift home, and although usually I'd rather walk mile after mile than get on the back of Newbie's scooter, I also had noticed by the lack of response to the 15 pages I had sent to him that he was in need of some kind of pick me up, and by the looks of things, I was the only one left in this hell-hole to give it to him.

"Hey Dr. Cox, I just want to thank you again for -"

"Cleaning up your apartment, yes Tiffany, I get the picture now. It has been three times already, and I must tell you that should you try and tell me one more time, I will have to kill you."

He quickly skipped out of the elevator as the doors opened, and walked hastily to the double doors, checking behind him that I was still there.

"Would you stop that? Makes me feel like a stalker," I chastised him, striding over to where he was now swinging his leg over the scooter, strapping on his helmet.

"I uh, don't have another helmet," he apologised, tapping his own. "But you can have mine if you want -"

"I'm fine," I cut in, climbing on behind him and moving forward so that I sat comfortably. "Now, I'm going to put my arms around you, but please, don't let your little heart jump out of its chest with pleasure - I'm doing it for my own safety, not fulfilling whatever fantasies you have of me. Okay?"

Silence greeted my reply - instantly I knew that my teasing had brought on an attack of that stupid thought-bubble thing he had, which he had once explained to me (against my will). Letting out a small irritated growl, I wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed too tightly, causing him to yelp and start his engine abruptly.

"There was no need for that," he called back to me, lifting his foot and letting the scooter jerk forward. I didn't bother replying. I had got what I wanted (a ride home) and had no further use for him.

We sped to my apartment in silence, with me feeling quite ridiculous - anyone who drove past would probably think we were lovers or something, and that alone made me edgy and irritable. He was singing along to the radio, which really didn't help, and every time he tried to hit a note that he couldn't, I tightened my arms just a little, trying to portray my annoyance at his ridiculous attempt at singing.

JD POV

I think Dr. Cox really appreciated me singing along. Whenever I managed to reach a high note (impressively, I might add), he gave me a little squeeze of approval. A special scooter-hug. I could tell he was impressed.

Dr. Cox POV

As we got nearer to my block, I couldn't help but think back to just a day before. This time last night, I was undressing the guy I was holding tightly around the waist - and hours before that, I was whispering into his ear, trying to make an awkward situation worse. I felt that sense of power, that want of it start to twinge in the bottom of my stomach again, simply from remembering.

What was it about him? What was it about the pathetic little girl that I spent most of my days harassing just to entertain himself, that made him so… pleasantly vulnerable? It was sick of me, and don't think I didn't get that. Hell, Jordan made a song and dance out of telling me how screwed up I was and there was no reason for me to disagree - but it was still something new. I had always been a fan of power and reached for it with everything I had, but this sort of power was something I hadn't experienced before. And, despite knowing that the more I played up to it the worse it would get, I still wanted to play.

But I wouldn't. I couldn't. It would go too far. Everything I had fun with went too far, and I couldn't risk that with Newbie. He was too vulnerable for my games, and try as I did to deny it, I didn't want to mess him up any more. He was already doing that himself.

He pulled up outside of my building, pulling off his helmet and steadying the scooter as I climbed off. He flashed me a smile (looking absolutely idiotic with his hair sticking up all over the place).

"My back's cold now," he joked, rubbing it with his palm and grinning up at me. My eyes met his, my initial reaction exasperated at such a stupid comment, but as I met his gaze, I felt something go through me. Though he was grinning, looking as chirpy as always, there was something in that gaze, something behind that tone that made me stop for a second and really look at him. That hidden tone allowed me for a moment to see that for all his desire to be alone, it had truly brightened up his night slightly by spending it with someone. With me. I felt a spark of betrayal as the ache from the want of power turned into a tiny, uncomfortable bruise. It reminded me of that feeling I got before I had agreed to sleep on his sofa. And that bruise, surprisingly, was worse than the ache.

"Well don't expect me to warm it up for you, Newbie," I replied sharply, turning away from him and that uncomfortable feeling. "I'm sure Ghandi will do the honours once you get home."

"Nah, Turk's too busy doing the dirty with Carla," he half-joked, but again, I heard that tone. Loneliness. "But it's cool. I need sleep anyway. Only a few hours 'til I have to get up."

"Whatever," I muttered carelessly, pushing open the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

The door started to close behind me, but as I started to make my way to the stairs there was a slight scuffling and the noise of something being jammed into the door. I turned slowly, seeing Newbie halfway into the door, looking sheepish.

"There are no goodnight kisses, Ashley," I said incredulously, folding my arms and raising an eyebrow. He forced a laugh, and then forced himself in through the door. He was jittery, jigging from one leg to the other. "Spit it out, Princess, there's a bottle of scotch calling my name and so help me if you-"

"I need a pee!" he cut in, bending his knees slightly and looking up at me with embarrassed blue eyes. "I need a pee and… I need your toilet!"

I blinked.

"You expect me to let you use my toilet? Newbie, I don't even let my relatives use my toilet."

"Holy mother of Jesus, please! I gave you a lift, so… let me relieve myself!"

"Dear God, Lily, don't call it that or I swear on the grave of my grandma's chinchilla that I'll let you stand there and pee all down your scrubs. And believe me, I'll do it."

"Mmmmph!!"

"Good," I replied, satisfied that he had suffered long enough. "Toilet's on the right as you walk in. Do not touch anything." I handed him the key (he knew where my apartment was, and I knew it) and watched him practically fly up the stairs to get to the toilet. I followed, three steps at a time, and walked in through the door which he had left wide open, slamming it shut behind me and casting a look around the place.

Tidy. Jordan must've just taken some clothes and left.

I wandered over to the counter where a bottle of scotch, sealed and shining was waiting for me, delicious to gaze at and even better to taste. I cracked it open, taking the shot glass I hadn't put beside it (Jordan was surprisingly thoughtful sometimes) and helping myself to a generous drink.

"Here's to another shitty day," I toasted, raising it to nobody and then downing it in one. I quickly poured another one and threw it down my throat, glorifying in the burn that settled in my stomach. I was pouring my third when Newbie emerged from the bathroom, still looking foolish. I met his awkward gaze for a second before looking away and drinking the scotch. I heard his mumble something and his rubber-soled walk to the door. As his fingers rested on the latch, I called,

"You going somewhere?"

He turned to me, blue eyes alighting first on the fourth scotch I was pouring and then to my own eyes that slid to his for a second.

"Um… what?"