She knocks on his door three times, quick raps that sound hollow and pathetic to her ears. This is quite easily the dumbest and bravest thing that Neela Rasgotra has ever done. That is why it feels so uncomfortable for her. Neela has never been dumb, on the contrary she has always been considered quite brilliant. The stupidity of the act doesn't bother her that much though (don't forget she once turned away from her whole life to work in a convenience store). No, it's the bravery that radiates through her body like a virus. She can feel it humming throughout her limbs and her fingers have begun to shake because of it. She lifts them now, curling them into tight fists in a desperate attempt to stop the shaking. She hears movement behind the door and she squeezes her eyes shut and is ashamed at how hard she wishes to be back in Chicago. Her entire hand is shaking now and guilt and cowardice have begun to take over again. She isn't surprised by the appearance of these two emotions; in fact their appearance is almost welcome. By now they are two of her oldest friends. She allows the guilt to tighten her throat and choke her breathing, while the cowardice dips to her feet and pulls them away from his front door. But for some reason her hand is unaffected and it knocks again, louder this time, as if to prove that she is going through with this no matter what. She closes her eyes in order to calm her nerves and is surprised when she hears the door open. She opens her eyes slowly, as if she is waking up from a good dream. He looks the same and completely different all at the same time. He also looks shocked.

"Hi," she manages to say, praying to God that he won't slam the door in her face. Rationally she knows that he won't; they've been writing to each other for over a year now. They tried talking on the phone once, it was awkward and there were so many long, pregnant pauses that the entire conversation lasted four minutes and twenty-two seconds before they both made excuses to hang up. The letters never stopped though. Still, she finds herself holding her breath as she looks back at him.

"Hi," he replies, his voice filled with wonder and disbelief. Then time seems to catch up with them and he gestures for her to come inside. "Sorry, come in," he says, his voice brighter, but edged with a false sincerity that frightens her. She steps into the hallway of the small house. He's living alone now and from the mess inside the house she realizes that some things don't change. The thought both comforts and frightens her. She turns when he closes the door and drinks in his appearance, suddenly feeling every single second of the time they have been apart. He's wearing the prosthetics and he looks like he used to (she winces as the word "normal" appears in her head, shaking it away like a dirty thought), like the Ray who would keep her up till four in the morning watching horror films and then use the last of the milk.

"Hi," she repeats and the guilt and the cowardice gain new strength and wash over her. She suddenly feels extremely dumb, but not at all brave. Feeling the heat of a blush snake up her neck to her cheeks she quickly adds, "You look good." She smiles for good measure and feels the blush grow hotter.

"Thanks," Ray says.

"I should have called," Neela says before she can help it. The words tumble out of her mouth like wild animals, clamoring to be freed.

"It's fine," and he dismisses the comment with a wave of his hand. They stand for a moment longer before he says, "We can sit." Neela nods and follows him into a small living room. She watches him walk and recognizes that his gate has completely changed. It's much more controlled now and it's obvious that he's concentrating on simply putting one foot in front of the other. She remembers how much things have changed and her stomach drops a bit. He lowers himself into an old armchair while she carefully perches herself on the couch. She knows that she has to start talking soon, but the bravery she had felt weeks ago when she made this radical decision is suddenly gone. So she sits and waits for him to speak again because she has always been a coward and it's a hard habit to break.

"How Chicago?"

"It's fine," she replies quickly, but is unable to launch into any sort of detail. Ray nods his head and then sighs. She knows that both his patience and his current pleasant demeanor are growing thin. She can still read him, even after all this time and all this tragedy.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I'm here," she says, dropping her eyes to her hands.

"Neela…" he starts and she can hear how loaded her name is. She clenches her eyes shut for a moment and then lets out a sigh of her own.

"Can I just, can I just talk? There are just, there are just some things that I have to say," she pleads, allowing herself to look him straight in the eye. He nods wearily and falls back against the armchair. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes again. Then she starts talking.

"I'm not a happy person," she starts and she looks up to see Ray's brow furrowed and a look of confusion etched into his face. She's well aware that this was not the opening line he was expecting. "You know that. I've never been particularly happy and it's never really bothered me."

"Neela…" he starts again, although this time his voice and softer and kinder.

"Please," she says and holds up her hand to stop him. She knows she will not be able to get through this if he keeps interrupting. He nods again, although this time she can tell that there is a spark of interest to it.

"I, umm, I was thinking about this a few weeks ago. The thing is, I realized that I haven't really let myself be happy that often. So with that in mind I began to think about the times when I've been happy; truly happy, not just not unhappy," she clarifies. "I came up with three times. Not specific events, just time periods in my life. I could only come up with three, at least three recent ones. Childhood doesn't really count. Anyway, the first is when I'm working. I am genuinely happy when I'm working. I know that sounds funny, since most of the time I act like I'm miserable, but I think you understand the feeling of saving a life," she says and looks up at him. Ray nods and the small gesture gives her enough courage to continue. She had forgotten that he could make her feel brave, most likely because he was also the person who made her feel like such coward. "So, that's one place where I'm happy. The second is when I was with Michael, before he went back to Iraq. I was very happy before he left me…" At this point she allows herself to trail off and looks to see Ray's reaction again. She knows that her marriage is not something they have ever liked to discuss. He's sitting very still and he has a look on her face that she recognizes. It's the same one she saw the night she told him she was moving out. She ducks her eyes and attempts to settle her nerves. She fails.

"And the third time?" Ray asks. Neela starts at the sound of his voice and immediately recognizes the tone. It's the same one he used when he asked her not to leave the apartment.

"When we were roommates," she whispers, keeping her eyes firmly set on the coffee table in front of her. She hears Ray let out a snort of laughter.

"When?" he asks and his voice is cold. It is the voice she expected to hear when she knocked on his door.

"What do you mean?"

"What part of our time as roommates. The time before you were married or the time after?" he asks and Neela cannot help but look up at him. His expression is very controlled, but his fingers are digging into the blue fabric of the chair so much so that the tips are powder white. She realizes that there must be a difference for him. He must have felt a huge shift in their relationship when she married Michael. She hadn't felt it; she hadn't even realized that their relationship should have changed until it was far too late. The familiar feeling of guilt coils in her stomach and she is once again reminded of how horribly she treated him.

"Both," she whispers and he snorts again.

"What is the point of you telling me this?" he asks, his voice even colder now and laced with resentment.

"Because I was thinking about how I haven't been happy in quite a while…" she starts, but he cuts her off.

"Well join the damn club," he spits out.

"Please, just let me finish," she snaps, and she can suddenly remember every single time she's ever snapped at him in her entire life. For a moment the gesture seems almost normal, then she feels the tears. She hadn't realized that she had started to cry until this exact moment and she feels the anger at the realization shoot through her. She's always hated crying and taken it as a sign of weakness. It's killing her to show this much emotion in front of him, but she knows that there simply isn't any way around it. He's silent so she starts again. "I was thinking about it and about the times when I've actually been happy and I realized something. I've been a truly terrible person in the last two years. I've been a complete coward, but I was always a coward. But in the past two years I became self destructive and I really didn't think about anything that I was doing. I'm sorry for how that affected you. I truly am and I'm sorry that I couldn't admit how stupid I've been earlier."

"It's alright," he whispers and she has the desire to laugh at his completely false statement.

"It's not," she argues with a shake of her head. "It's not alright at all. But I realized that I've been confusing two important human emotions. I've been mixing up needing things and wanting things. I thought that if I got what I wanted I would be happy, but I never thought about what I actually needed. I did stupid things because I wanted to just forget about everything that had happened. I wanted to pretend that nothing was wrong. I went a year pretending that Michael's death was barely affecting me and then I went another pretending that what happened to you wasn't affecting me either. I wanted to forget and I mistook that want as something I needed to do, so I did stupid things in order to accomplish it. But wanting things and getting them only solves problems for the short term. I never stopped to think what I needed," she pours out all of this quite quickly and she's not sure if Ray even understands what she's talking about. From the look on his face she has lost him somewhere in her muddled monologue.

"Wanting things is human, Neela. It's not a horrible or uncommon thing," Ray supplies, looking genuinely puzzled.

"Yes, but everybody wants things, Ray. What's important is that we realize what we need to be happy and I've spent the last two years completely ignoring the fact that I didn't know what I needed to be happy."

"And you do now?" he asks.

"Yeah, I do. I need my job and I need you," Neela says and she is surprised that her confession comes out so easily. She can still feel the presence of tears on her face, but her eyes are dry and her voice is clear. Ray is looking at her in a way that makes her feel like he doesn't believe her. She doesn't feel lighter now that she's said what she came here to say. She thought that she would, but instead she feels sick to her stomach. His silence is what she was expecting and she slumps against the back of the couch.

"It's been over a year, Neela. Why the hell are you telling me this now?" Ray says and he sounds so very tired. Neela realizes that she is also exhausted. She's tired of all of it and she wonders if this is how he felt when he confronted her at Abby and Luka's wedding.

"Because I only just figured it out," she responds. Ray shakes his head in disbelief and sighs.

"It's too late. It's been too late for a while now. Everything's changed."

"I know."

"I mean, Jesus Christ, what did you expect me to say?" he asks, running his hand through his hair.

"Exactly what you're saying now," she admits and it is the complete truth. She never expected anything but for him to tell her that it was impossible.

"It's just been too long. I'm sorry."

"Don't say things you don't mean and don't apologize for things that aren't your fault," she remarks dully.

"I am sorry, Neela," Ray repeats angrily. "I am sorry for a lot of things and the fact that you couldn't understand any of this two years ago, hell over two years ago, is something that I have obsessed over for a long time and it is something I am very sorry for."

"Okay."

"Neela."

"Ray, please, you don't have to say anything else. I understand. Thank you for letting me talk."

"You're welcome," he says and Neela is suddenly desperately fighting back tears. He's returned to a guarded and polite tone that makes her feel nauseous.

"I guess I should go," Neela says and rises to move toward the door. Ray stands as well and she watches him wince a bit as he gets his balance. Neither of them moves though, instead standing awkwardly facing one another.

"How long are you here for?" he asks and Neela wants to laugh at the question.

"A while," she supplies.

"Don't you have to get back to County?" he asks, confusion clouding his face.

"No, actually."

"I don't understand."

"I don't work at County anymore," she explains and the sick feeling returns to her stomach. She was never good at confessions.

"What? Neela you just said that you need your job to be happy," he says and she can tell that his confusion is greatly irritating him. She fights off a smile. She really has missed him.

"Yeah, but I can do my job anywhere and if you remember there was another component of my happiness," she says. She watches him figure it out. She's so exhausted from telling the truth that she doesn't even have the energy to feel sick anymore. Bravery really is quite overrated.

"No," he whispers.

"The hospital here had an opening and I've been in Chicago for a while. I thought it was time for a change."

"You cannot move here."

"Yes, I can and I have."

"What the hell would you do that for?" he asks and he is truly angry now. She finds a bubble of anger rising inside of her as well and fights for it not to pop. The last thing she needs is a screaming match, which is what always seems to happen when she gives into her anger.

"Were you not listening to everything I just said? I need you to be happy and you're here. I do need my job, but like I said, I can do it anywhere. And to be perfectly honest I'm tired of Chicago because it seems to hold nothing but tragedy for me. And I'm tired of running. I've been running from you for almost three years now. I've been a coward and I'm tired of it. I'm done running and I understand that everything has changed. I understand that I hurt you so badly and that I was so careless and so awful. I am sorry and I know that it will take a hell of a lot more than that to make it up to you, but I'm willing to do that. I'm done running," she says and by the time she has finished she realizes that she is yelling. Her eyes are blazing and Ray is staring at her. Then he's kissing her. His hands grasp her face and she allows hers to wrap around his neck. The kiss seems to last a very long time, but when he pulls away it suddenly seems like it was only a second.

"Fuck, Neela," he curses and he drops his hands from her face and turns around. Then he faces her again. "So much has happened and so much has changed. We can't go back, we just, we can't."

"I know that. But I thought that, maybe, we could try and go forward," she says.

"Forward?"

"Yes," she says and suddenly Ray is laughing. A true laugh, not the bitter and sarcastic laugh he had emitted during her explanation. He shakes his head a bit, in what Neela is sure is disbelief. Then he looks at her for what seems like a very long. She finally has to duck her head in order to escape his stare.

"We could try," he says and Neela looks up at him and feels the smile grow on her face.

"It won't be easy and this may be a huge mistake and failure, but the truth is I'm still in love you," he says and she feels as if she has just dropped ten stories.

"What?"

"I know that it's probably crazy, but I never fell out of love with you, Neela. I was so angry with you, but I never stopped loving you," he says softly and she feels her eyes start to pool. He moves closer to her and suddenly he's only inches away.

"God," she whispers as she brushes away the increasingly annoying tears.

"I don't know if that's enough, but it's enough for me to try," he says. Neela nods and then realizes something.

"I never said it. God, I rambled and I never said it."

"What?" he asks.

"I love you," she says and he smiles.

"So we'll try," he whispers, leaning forward so that his forehead touches hers.

"We'll try," she repeats and then she kisses him. For the first time in a very long time Neela finds that she feels happy.