Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Note: One shot. Happens after the season 13 finale.

--x--

He sat on the hospital bed adjacent to hers, grasping her seemingly lifeless hand in his own. He stared at her broken face, which at one time had been so full of life and beauty, now scratched, gashed and bruised. Her hand was not much different. The cast covered it from her fingertips to her elbows, the crushed hand lying embedded within it. His eyes roamed over the rest of her body. He stared at the tube that stuck outside her mouth and lined to the ventilator, providing the only source of oxygen in her body. The noises of blipping monitors filled the room, the only evidence of life as it sounded with each heartbeat. His eyes traveled to her once flawless neck, which was now badly bruised, injuring her trachea, which made it a miracle that the doctors were able to intubate her. Next, he let his eyes roam down her body, which was covered by the hospital gown, down to her legs, which were destroyed to the point that she would eventually have to learn to walk again, and for a moment, he let the irony of the similar injuries register into his mind. He felt hot tears prick at the corners of his once deep hazel eyes, which were now shallow with sorrow and despair.

But the injuries visible to the eyes may as well just be scarless cuts compared to the injuries lying below the skin. A punctured lung, a ruptured kidney, broken ribs, broken bones in the back, a broken collarbone…

Those were just a few.

He had read her chart when the room was vacant of doctors and nurses, which had made the accident more than he could bear. Her vitals were normal-as normal as they were going to get anyway. The surgery had removed her spleen, which had been ruptured in the trample, repaired her lung, and the several other severe injuries she had acquired during the accident.

He felt himself take a huge gasp of air, but it didn't provide any relief.

I can feel the pain.
Look into his eyes.
But I don't know gone without goodbye.
If I could reach the sky,
I'd bring her right back to your arms.

He watched her intently, waiting for any sign of survival. Abby had told him when he first arrived. The chances of her making a full recovery were close to zero, and she had cried all over again.

But he wouldn't dare give up hope.

--x—

The call had been one of the most traumatizing experiences he had ever endured. Listening to Abby's cracking voice, her devastating sobs. It was almost too much. At first, he asked her why he should care. This was the girl that caused his accident for fuck's sake.

But then, the smarter, more genuine part of him kicked in, and he was then overwhelmed with fear.

Suddenly, at that moment, all the resentment and remorse he held towards that girl had suddenly vanished, and he finally heard words flow from his mouth.

'I'll be on the first flight.'

He hung up as soon as they were spoken, wheeled himself out of his room, grabbing his mother without answering her questions, and made her drive him to the airport.

She drove him on the endless streets of Baton Rouge as he stared unseeingly outside the window. He only half listened to the questions his mother threw at him, and he only answered her when they finally got to the airport and waited for the plane.

'Neela was in an accident.'

His mother kept pressing him further, but he refused to answer her as the voice over the intercom filled the airport.

'Flight 561 Louisiana to Chicago is now boarding.'

Immediately, he began wheeling himself to the entrance to the plane, but only to be stopped by his mother, who took over for him, and lead him onto the plane into the first class section.

The flight was the hardest part. Every second of every minuet was filled with agony, regret, and sorrow.

When he finally reached County, Abby was there waiting for him, but she never expected to see what she saw.

'Oh my God…Ray…' Tears had filled her eyes, and fell unchecked down her cheeks.

But he refused any pity for himself. 'Where is she?'

She reluctantly led him to the elevator, and eventually led him to her room.

And here he was, right beside her, on a bed that he ordered from one of the nurses.

He sat there, praying that she would come back to him. Memories of their past suddenly filling his mind as tears escaped his eyes, cascading down his cheeks. He lifted her limp hand and pressed a kiss to her broken fingers. Sobs escaped his throat as he spoke.

'Neela…please…come back.'

He cried beside her as the monitors continued to beep, and the ventilator breathed for her. He then lay down on his side, never letting go of her hand, never letting his gaze leave her face, and cried himself to sleep in the dark room.

Praying that she would come back to him. Even if it was just for a minuet, just so he could tell her how much he loved her.

And to at least say goodbye.

But I don't know gone without goodbye