Fic: Heartbeats - 1/4
Heartbeats - 1/4
Characters - Ray/Neela
Word Count - 2697 (this part)
Summary - She wishes they could just get this bollocks out of the way, get back on equal terms, like it used to be, without this absurd side-stepping around each other’s emotional baggage.
Author’s Note - So, I know I’m a little late jumping on this bandwagon, but I haven’t written fanfiction in AGES and it’s taken me a while to work up the courage to post! Years ago, I was compelled by X-Files, Doctor Who and Harry Potter, but, having sat working my way through ER DVD boxsets, I’ve felt compelled again. Hopefully it’s not too rubbish. I got my lovely friend Lissa to check my American ‘voice’ so hopefully my Ray is okay and you can’t tell too much that I’m British!
· The title is inspired by the song Heartbeats, and specifically the version by Jose Gonzalez.
Rating - M, for language and… other stuff. ;)
Part One - To call for hands of above…
Baton Rouge is sweltering. The heat broadsides Neela the minute she gets off the plane. It’s that intense, humid kind of heat that crushes you, wraps itself around you like a boa constrictor, makes it hard to breathe. Sweat pearls on her neck and she wonders why the hell she brought this stupid coat, and why she’s hanging on to it so tightly it could be a security blanket.
Part of her wants to linger in the door where the air-conditioning can still tickle like a Chicago breeze on her hairline.
The rental car smells like someone’s gone crazy with the pine scented freshener. The air-conditioning is turned up high, but she turns it up some more and basks in the arctic temperature.
On goes the radio; it’s something mindless, a local news station with a repeating monotonous bulletin, but she’s grateful for the distraction. The map she bought at the airport sits on the passenger seat and her destination stares back at her, bold and black and capitalised. Suddenly it makes sense to open the window as well - let the air in to surge over her.
The roads are quiet, as if everyone in the county has retired for a mid-afternoon nap, and it takes her less time than she expected, so she sits in the car and watches the people go by, the conversation with Abby ringing in her head.
If this doesn’t make sense, I don’t know what does.
Of course she’s right, Neela thinks. Abby was always bloody right. But that doesn’t make this any easier.
It’s a bit like standing on the edge of a cliff, taking a step over and hoping he’ll be there to catch her.
But, pointless geographical metaphors aside, she realises pretty soon that she can’t put it off any longer. There’s a change of shift happening - she can tell by the movement in the staff parking lot - and she’s suddenly worried she might miss him.
And the idea of that is even worse than the thought of falling.
She draws in a deep breath, and opens the car door.
***
There’s a man in the elevator she boards in the lobby. Mid-seventies, well-groomed, dapper in suit and tie, listening to music on headphones like those ridiculous ones Ray once spent half his pay check on that made him look as if he was about to start doing something with heavy machinery. The music’s loud enough for her to hear - rap, of all things.
Maybe that’s what happens to you down here in this heat, she thinks. Maybe it makes you do crazy things and think they’re perfectly normal…
The doors open and she steps out. On the way from the car, something strange has settled over her, like she’s hardly ever known. Like the chaos and butterflies in her head have slowed down and coalesced, and for the first time in days, months and, God, maybe even years, everything seems to make perfect sense.
Of course.
Why wouldn’t it?
She follows the signs along the corridor and her feet guide her forward.
***
When she saw him at Halloween, she could hardly believe it was him - and it wasn’t just the legs, or the face or the slightly stilted walk, it was the quietness, the composure, like he had watched the world sail past him at ninety miles an hour and decided that he’d just slow it down.
And now it’s no different. He’s with a couple of patients, and that quiet way is still there, his head nodding and his voice steady, like he’s found himself.
When he sees her across the room, standing there looking at him, it takes a second, and he double takes, and then that beautiful smile from way back plays on his face.
***
Ray can’t help the stupid grin that he knows flashes giddily on his lips as he sees her, can’t help the turn of his stomach. All these god damn years and she still has the power to make him feel like he’s out of control of his own body. He looks away, suddenly self-conscious, and murmurs an excuse to his patient. A breath drawn in… slow, steady… take it easy, Ray, and then he turns and walks the few paces towards her.
He’s reminded of those times just after the accident when the drugs were making him see screwy things in his sleep - not dreams, as such, but things, real things, so close that he would believe he could reach out and touch them. Sometimes he saw people he knew, other times it was complete strangers, a couple times it had even been her. He would wake from those visions suddenly, his heart racing and his skin prickling, questioning what was dream and what was reality.
Now, his heart is racing and his skin is prickling - but this time there’s no denying it: she’s here, right in front of him, and she’s as real as she’s ever been.
He bites his lip. Something needs to be said - after all, there’s a hundred different emotions playing dodge ball in his head at the moment, he can’t seriously just stand there saying nothing - but for a beat he feels lost and she doesn’t save him. “Finally,” he murmurs, but it comes out sounding slightly smug, like he’s been completely expecting her to see the light and show up on his doorstep when really he’d pretty much given up on the whole concept. So instead he follows it up with a more tentative, “You’re really here?”
There’s a pause as she smiles at him, then replies, “Yeah… I really am.”
What happens next takes him by surprise and later he finds himself wishing someone could have photographed the moment so he could stick it to the door of his refrigerator and remind himself of it every morning from then on.
All of a sudden, Neela ducks her head and presses fiercely into his chest, so hard it makes him take a step back. It’s a gesture not entirely out of character for her, but still surprising. “Whoa,” he says as her arms crush around him like she’s trying to squeeze between his ribs. He can feel the tension knotted in her shoulders. “I guess you really are.”
One hand runs over her hair, then he frowns and kisses the top of her head, breathing in her familiar scent.
She doesn’t let go though, only holds him tighter, and so he does it again.
From out of the brain haze, it becomes clear to Ray that there’s a crescendo of clapping, followed by a wolf whistle and then someone shouts, “Go, Doc!”
They separate enough for them to both look around - although she curls the fingers of a hand around one of his - and Ray realises that the entire Physical Therapy suite is watching them. Neela’s cheeks fill with colour, and she laughs apprehensively, half hiding behind her hair. “Who’s the fox, Doc?” says the voice from before and Ray turns towards it.
Andy Moulton. Might’ve guessed, thinks Ray. The son of a bitch is sitting grinning in his wheelchair in the entrance, the door being held by Lou, the Rehab staff nurse.
Shaking his head, Ray takes two steps over to Andy. “Andy, this is Neela…” He’s about to say ‘my friend’, but stops himself, briefly considers ‘girlfriend’ as a substitute, then decides on leaving the option open. Too soon, he thinks, to be making any definite moves on that one. “Neela, Andy… former Marine, a thorn in my side and sadly my next patient.”
To her credit, Neela holds out her hand and smiles as Andy takes it and makes a big show of kissing it like some knight errant. “Hi there, Andy,” she says quietly.
“Well, fair and beautiful lady, what brings you to weaken the resolve of our honourable Doc Barnett?”
“Watch it, Andy,” Ray mutters, half in warning, half in amusement. He glances for help from Lou, who grins, then pushes Andy away from them. One thing about being bound to a chair, Ray remembers, is that you go when people want you to go.
Lou leans forward and chastises her charge in soft Southern tones, “That’s enough already, you’re making the lady uncomfortable.”
“The lady? No way! I’m making the doc feel uncomfortable!” Andy crows and chortles loudly as he’s wheeled towards the parallel bars.
Shaking his head, Ray looks back at Neela. The nervous bubble that’s been growing since he laid eyes on her plays a downward stroke along his spine. “I’m okay, it’s fine,” she assures him.
He sighs, “I’m sorry about him. He… he knows me from way back, from when…” He looks down at his legs and purses his lips. “He hasn’t done as good as I have, though.”
“Oh.” Neela colours again. Ray can see the alarm flit bird-like across her face, knows instinctively she’s too tense to stop herself spinning out into that kind of thinking.
“Neela.” He looks at her face looking away from him, then crooks his finger under her chin and pulls her eyes back to his. Even under harsh fluorescent lights she’s still so fucking gorgeous it makes his heart ache. “Neela… Look, my shift’s over in about a half hour. We can get out of here then if you’d like?” He pauses, wonders if he should make the first move, then considers if she hasn’t already done that by showing up here. “How about dinner? Some beers?”
For a second her face is expressionless, as if she’s gathering herself together again, then she smiles and nods her head. “I’d like that.”
“Okay, great,” he says. The stupid grin is back, Ray knows, as he points her in the direction of the doctors’ lounge down the hall, and he has the feeling it’s not going to go away anytime soon.
***
They end up sitting on the terrace of a bar he knows a few blocks down from the hospital having settled on sharing potato skins and a few beers, just like they used to do sometimes after a shift when they were roommates.
Somehow it seems right, Neela thinks as she watches the condensation build on her bottle.
What it should be.
Conversation comes easily - like always - and they meander through Abby moving to Boston, Morris and Claudia, Dubenko, Ray’s mom, Neela’s taste in music and whether or not they should share an ice-cream sundae too.
They do. Ray pushes the cream and chocolate sprinkles into her half and she leaves the cherries for him. It’s a pre-arranged bartering system.
For a while, they talk about his visit at Halloween, and he clumsily asks what happened between her and Simon, but like an unspoken agreement, neither of them step any further back in time.
The sun goes down and they hardly notice. Neela can’t remember when she last lost track of time like this. Probably when they used to sit on his old couch and watch lame TV into the small hours.
“It’s getting late,” she says when she finally realises that evening has slipped casually into night-time. She doesn’t want to get up and leave, but if they sit here much longer the guy at the bar is going to give up sending them evil glares and actually kick them out. She glances at her watch and then at Ray, who looks for a moment like a kid being told that it’s time to go home. “I should go.”
She drains the last of her beer and pushes the bottle into the middle of the table. It sits between them like a boundary.
“You got a hotel?” he asks, after a minute.
“Yeah...” She doesn’t dare look at him, chicken that she is. “I thought I’d get myself settled in at work, then look for a new place. I thought you might know where’s best to look and maybe you’d help me out.”
A teenage girl in a mini skirt collecting glasses provides convenient punctuation and Ray lets the pause hang a moment longer than it probably should. “Neela, you know, you didn’t have to get a hotel.” He looks at her and it’s like he can see right through her. “You could’ve stayed with me. All you had to do was ask.”
“Well, I didn’t know… I mean, I didn’t know if… what I would find.”
“What do you mean?”
She tries to make it seem like nothing at all, but has the feeling that she’s not fooling him all that well. She’s never been very good at fooling him. Her hands spin vaguely and uselessly at the end of her arms, then her shoulders sag and she sighs, like her energy’s just been drained away.
“I mean, in between all the other crap I was worrying about, I didn’t know… if you had already moved on. Found someone else, maybe.” She swallows, hating herself all over again. She wishes they could just get this bollocks out of the way, get back on equal terms, like it used to be, without this absurd side-stepping around each other’s emotional baggage. “Someone who was a bit healthier for you.”
Ray laughs and Neela looks up, frowning deeply. How the hell can he laugh when she’s so tense she’s about ready to internally combust? “What can I say? Masochism’s always been my thing.”
Without warning, it all finally bubbles over and the incendiary mix of frustration and embarrassment drive her from her seat. She’s angry with him for making light of the situation when she’s feeling so uncomfortable, for not understanding her. “Ray, I’ve given up ev…” She stops; he’s still bloody laughing. “This isn’t a joke. I’m serious.” She scoops up her bag and coat and heads for the door.
She doesn’t know where she’s going, just that she wants to get out of this damn bar.
It takes him a few seconds, but he gets up and chases after her, catching her sleeve just as she slips out of the crowd of chairs and tables and giant terracotta pots of pink bougainvillea. “Neela, stop.”
“What?!”
For God’s sake, she’s crying. This is so stupid, she thinks. She paws furiously at her cheeks. “Neela.”
He takes her by the shoulders and turns her to face him. His eyes have the same look in them that once scared her half to death. She really doesn’t know why he keeps giving her all these chances.
“Neela,” he repeats.
She blurts, “Ray, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just… this is really hard for me. I can’t…”
Neela shakes her head. He’s probably thinking she’s such a girl for dissolving into tears, so she wipes the skin under her eyes again, and looks away, sniffing. She can’t believe she’s actually behaving like this. “Look, this is crazy,” he says, and to her surprise, his voice is soft, still calm and quiet. “Why did you come here?”
“Because…” And then she stops herself. The truth is a bit ridiculous, when she’s honest with herself. Pinning everything on him like she has done, giving up her job, her friends, her home… all for him. It’s so un-Neela-like it’s no wonder she spent three hours in the airport in a state of barely controlled panic. She can’t look at him; she feels exposed.
Years ago, he jokingly called her an emotional retard and she thinks that once again, he was probably right. She sighs. She’s such an idiot. “Because I wanted to be here,” she finishes.
It sounds a little bit lame now it’s out in the open.
A smile twitches at his lips.
“With you,” she adds quietly.
“You wanted to be with me.” His smile grows. “Neela, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”
She looks up at him.
And then he kisses her.
It’s not hesitant or questioning or anything at all like it was that time in his car. No, this is something else. His mouth is open and searching and his hands are on her face, cradling it, holding her still so he can switch sides and quest deeper. Oh God, she thinks.
Oh God, oh God, oh God…
***
End Part One.