ER - Ray/Neela
Title: This Was A Therapeutic Chain of Events
Fandom: ER
Pairing: Ray/Neela
CD & Song: Emergency - Pressure (Paramore)
Rating: PG-13 (maybe R, a couple of f-words)
Notes:
I think we have an emergency
If you thought I'd leave then you were wrong
‘Cause I won't stop holding on
~*~
When you wake up your head hurts. You feel like throwing up. But the fact that you’re not in your own bedroom, even though it’s really the last thing you notice, distracts you. You think you know what it means, it sure isn’t the first time you’ve gotten crazy drunk and done something stupid. You’ve ended up naked with a hangover many times before and you’re really just happy that you’re in an actual bed. You wonder where the girl - you hope it’s a girl - went and make a mental note to check if she didn’t touch your wallet.
You want to get out of bed and get some pants on when, once again, you’re distracted. It’s then that you realize where you are. You’re at County, in a hospital bed. And you can’t get out of bed, as both your legs are in casts. You don’t feel anything there, which makes glad for pain killers, even local ones. You’re more of a wimp than you care to admit. In the distance something else catches your interest. It’s crying this time, very distinctly female crying that sound just a tiny bit familiar. And when you peek towards the door you’re relieved in spite of yourself that you can’t stand because you’re sure your knees would have given out.
It’s Neela.
Which is bad. You think. It definitely seems bad. There wouldn’t be crying if it weren’t bad.
But when you look closer you see a tiny smile on her face, hidden behind the tear stained cheeks. She comes up to you and reaches out to touch your cast, but stops her hand right above it. Like she’s afraid of breaking you. She doesn’t say anything and you don’t really know what to say either. You think maybe you should tell her everything’s alright, but you can’t do that because you don’t really remember what it is that’s going to be okay. You don’t remember anything, really, and that bothers you almost as much as the crying. Key word: almost. You don’t really know what to do with the crying. So you do the other first thing that comes to mind.
You say: “Neela?”
And she looks at you with her big brown eyes that seem lost and angry and heart broken and terribly confused, all at the same time.
“Yes, Ray?” She asks, voice trembling, and you can’t help but feel scared.
“What happened?” It sounds pathetic, when you say it out loud.
She frowns, “What happened? You don’t remember?” She seems upset. More upset.
You stutter a little, not knowing what to say.
She drops her head into her hands. “Of course you don’t remember.”
“Well, I was out cold for a while, I guess.” You try to make the situation lighter, because that’s how you operate. “I don’t know what came over me.” You sort of fake-snort, which doesn’t work. And hurts your head. Bad move.
“I’m glad you think this is funny.” She almost spits it at you.
You know by now that trying to play down how fucked up this is won’t work, so you get to the point. “Then tell me, tell me what happened.”
She slides a nearby chair over to your bed and sits down, trying to be strong, but you notice her trembling. Still. “Maybe I should get your doctor first. He needs to know you woke up.” She tries to get around it, sound chipper. You know because you can hear her voice getting higher. But the words come out it soft mumbles.
“Just tell me, Neela. How long have I been in here?” Oh God, how long have you been in here? You yourself haven’t yet thought about the severity of the situation, and it washes over you like a cold shower now. You’re in the hospital. You’re pretty badly hurt. Why are you here?
She sighs. “About 3 days. You got into an accident.”
You want to tell her that that’s obvious, but she looks so guilty, so sad, that you can’t bring yourself to.
“Abby and Luka’s wedding.” You say instead. “I got in a fight. With Gates.” The name tastes bitter in your mouth, and you wish you’d just called him that bastard instead, like you do in your mind. “That’s the last thing I remember.”
“A truck. A truck hit you.” A TRUCK hit you, and you’re still alive? Your mother always did say you were too lucky for your own good. Not too lucky though, you tell yourself, because Neela’s crying again now. “They brought you in, I didn’t see you till the next day. But Ray…you looked so bad. I thought you were going to die. I hardly even recognized you.”
You reach out to take her hand, but she pulls away.
“They thought they couldn’t save your legs, but they did.” Relieved sigh. “They did.” They were going to take your legs? Jesus fuck. That nearly stops your heart.
“That’s good then.” You say, smiling.
Neela doesn’t smile back. She actually shakes head and tearfully whispers: “It’s all my fault.” Which puzzles you, because how is this ever her fault?
“Neela, this isn’t your-” You try to tell her, but she stops you.
“Yes, it is!” She doesn’t even try to wipe her tears anymore. “If I hadn’t made you wait, you wouldn’t have gotten in the fight and you wouldn’t have gone drinking and you wouldn’t…you would never have…”
“I would never have what?” Your voice is gentler than you’ve ever heard it.
“You would never have almost died without hearing it.” You wish you could be annoyed by the fact that she’s so cryptic even after you got hit by a truck, but you really want to know what ‘it’ is. You’ve got an idea, but you don’t want to get your hopes up. You’ve learned your lesson there, many times over.
“You don’t know how I felt, Ray, when they told me what happened to you.”
She hasn’t noticed that she’s moved her hand over yours, and you don’t think to point it out. The emotion read so clearly on her face that your eyes have fixated on her.
“I was so scared, Ray. You were lying there, and you looked so…dead. And all I could think was ‘please don’t leave me’.” She’s nearly choking on her tears now. “Because you can’t, Ray. I know it sounds selfish, but you can’t.”
Her face is close to you now. An you want to touch it, but your arms hurt too much to lift. She touches her forehead with yours, and the pounding is suddenly gone, all you feel is her forehead against yours. And then her lips on your nose, your cheek, your mouth. You lean into the kiss, as much as you can in your current state. She’s the one to break away
“I love you.” She whispers and your heart flutters like you never thought it would. “It shouldn’t have taken you almost dying for me to say it. And I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes. And I know Michael’s no excuse and neither is To-”
You cut her off with your lips before she can say that name. You really don’t want to hear that name right now.
“I love you too.” You say it honestly, earnestly. And she looks at you in wonder, as if she’d never expected you to say it, even though you know she’s known for a while. Then her eyes light up, the way only hers can.
You push through you pain enough to finally touch her face. Which wasn’t the best of ideas, because it makes you tired. You can’t stop your yawn, and she smiles at it.
“You sleep, okay? I’ll tell your doctor you woke up.
You just nod, already beginning to doze off. She kisses the tip of your nose one more time and says goodnight.
The last thought you have before you finally fall asleep is that maybe, in the end, it was worth the wait.
Fandom: ER
Pairing: Ray/Neela
CD & Song: Emergency - Pressure (Paramore)
Rating: PG-13 (maybe R, a couple of f-words)
Notes:
I think we have an emergency
If you thought I'd leave then you were wrong
‘Cause I won't stop holding on
~*~
When you wake up your head hurts. You feel like throwing up. But the fact that you’re not in your own bedroom, even though it’s really the last thing you notice, distracts you. You think you know what it means, it sure isn’t the first time you’ve gotten crazy drunk and done something stupid. You’ve ended up naked with a hangover many times before and you’re really just happy that you’re in an actual bed. You wonder where the girl - you hope it’s a girl - went and make a mental note to check if she didn’t touch your wallet.
You want to get out of bed and get some pants on when, once again, you’re distracted. It’s then that you realize where you are. You’re at County, in a hospital bed. And you can’t get out of bed, as both your legs are in casts. You don’t feel anything there, which makes glad for pain killers, even local ones. You’re more of a wimp than you care to admit. In the distance something else catches your interest. It’s crying this time, very distinctly female crying that sound just a tiny bit familiar. And when you peek towards the door you’re relieved in spite of yourself that you can’t stand because you’re sure your knees would have given out.
It’s Neela.
Which is bad. You think. It definitely seems bad. There wouldn’t be crying if it weren’t bad.
But when you look closer you see a tiny smile on her face, hidden behind the tear stained cheeks. She comes up to you and reaches out to touch your cast, but stops her hand right above it. Like she’s afraid of breaking you. She doesn’t say anything and you don’t really know what to say either. You think maybe you should tell her everything’s alright, but you can’t do that because you don’t really remember what it is that’s going to be okay. You don’t remember anything, really, and that bothers you almost as much as the crying. Key word: almost. You don’t really know what to do with the crying. So you do the other first thing that comes to mind.
You say: “Neela?”
And she looks at you with her big brown eyes that seem lost and angry and heart broken and terribly confused, all at the same time.
“Yes, Ray?” She asks, voice trembling, and you can’t help but feel scared.
“What happened?” It sounds pathetic, when you say it out loud.
She frowns, “What happened? You don’t remember?” She seems upset. More upset.
You stutter a little, not knowing what to say.
She drops her head into her hands. “Of course you don’t remember.”
“Well, I was out cold for a while, I guess.” You try to make the situation lighter, because that’s how you operate. “I don’t know what came over me.” You sort of fake-snort, which doesn’t work. And hurts your head. Bad move.
“I’m glad you think this is funny.” She almost spits it at you.
You know by now that trying to play down how fucked up this is won’t work, so you get to the point. “Then tell me, tell me what happened.”
She slides a nearby chair over to your bed and sits down, trying to be strong, but you notice her trembling. Still. “Maybe I should get your doctor first. He needs to know you woke up.” She tries to get around it, sound chipper. You know because you can hear her voice getting higher. But the words come out it soft mumbles.
“Just tell me, Neela. How long have I been in here?” Oh God, how long have you been in here? You yourself haven’t yet thought about the severity of the situation, and it washes over you like a cold shower now. You’re in the hospital. You’re pretty badly hurt. Why are you here?
She sighs. “About 3 days. You got into an accident.”
You want to tell her that that’s obvious, but she looks so guilty, so sad, that you can’t bring yourself to.
“Abby and Luka’s wedding.” You say instead. “I got in a fight. With Gates.” The name tastes bitter in your mouth, and you wish you’d just called him that bastard instead, like you do in your mind. “That’s the last thing I remember.”
“A truck. A truck hit you.” A TRUCK hit you, and you’re still alive? Your mother always did say you were too lucky for your own good. Not too lucky though, you tell yourself, because Neela’s crying again now. “They brought you in, I didn’t see you till the next day. But Ray…you looked so bad. I thought you were going to die. I hardly even recognized you.”
You reach out to take her hand, but she pulls away.
“They thought they couldn’t save your legs, but they did.” Relieved sigh. “They did.” They were going to take your legs? Jesus fuck. That nearly stops your heart.
“That’s good then.” You say, smiling.
Neela doesn’t smile back. She actually shakes head and tearfully whispers: “It’s all my fault.” Which puzzles you, because how is this ever her fault?
“Neela, this isn’t your-” You try to tell her, but she stops you.
“Yes, it is!” She doesn’t even try to wipe her tears anymore. “If I hadn’t made you wait, you wouldn’t have gotten in the fight and you wouldn’t have gone drinking and you wouldn’t…you would never have…”
“I would never have what?” Your voice is gentler than you’ve ever heard it.
“You would never have almost died without hearing it.” You wish you could be annoyed by the fact that she’s so cryptic even after you got hit by a truck, but you really want to know what ‘it’ is. You’ve got an idea, but you don’t want to get your hopes up. You’ve learned your lesson there, many times over.
“You don’t know how I felt, Ray, when they told me what happened to you.”
She hasn’t noticed that she’s moved her hand over yours, and you don’t think to point it out. The emotion read so clearly on her face that your eyes have fixated on her.
“I was so scared, Ray. You were lying there, and you looked so…dead. And all I could think was ‘please don’t leave me’.” She’s nearly choking on her tears now. “Because you can’t, Ray. I know it sounds selfish, but you can’t.”
Her face is close to you now. An you want to touch it, but your arms hurt too much to lift. She touches her forehead with yours, and the pounding is suddenly gone, all you feel is her forehead against yours. And then her lips on your nose, your cheek, your mouth. You lean into the kiss, as much as you can in your current state. She’s the one to break away
“I love you.” She whispers and your heart flutters like you never thought it would. “It shouldn’t have taken you almost dying for me to say it. And I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes. And I know Michael’s no excuse and neither is To-”
You cut her off with your lips before she can say that name. You really don’t want to hear that name right now.
“I love you too.” You say it honestly, earnestly. And she looks at you in wonder, as if she’d never expected you to say it, even though you know she’s known for a while. Then her eyes light up, the way only hers can.
You push through you pain enough to finally touch her face. Which wasn’t the best of ideas, because it makes you tired. You can’t stop your yawn, and she smiles at it.
“You sleep, okay? I’ll tell your doctor you woke up.
You just nod, already beginning to doze off. She kisses the tip of your nose one more time and says goodnight.
The last thought you have before you finally fall asleep is that maybe, in the end, it was worth the wait.