Strange Bedfellows Ending
Summary: Ray's thoughts during the ending sequence of Strange Bedfellows.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, not ER, not Ray, not Neela, not 'Strange Bedfellows' and nor the dialogue associated with it.
Spoilers: Lost in America, and of course: Strange Bedfellows.
Ray's POV:
I went into a kind of slack-jawed realization as I watched Morris walk away from the admit desk telling me not to worry about the rumor about Neela and me. Me. Sleeping with her. Neela. And quite suddenly the reason for her wanting to leave became a little clearer. What sort of married person wants everyone thinking that she's cheating on her husband who's off fighting a war?
The night she told me she wanted to move out, the only explanation she had given me was, "we both know why," and to my chagrin, I did know. I knew that we were getting too close, too comfortable, and from this morning I knew that things were getting too awkward. But when she told me I refused to admit that I, "knew why."
We had avoided each other ever since that night. Her, probably because things were getting too awkward and me because I thought if we didn't talk about it then eventually she would forget about it. But today I broached the subject because I hadn't talked to her in a week and I really just...just needed to. My shift was done now, I had dispo'ed all my patients and presented to an attending, all I wanted to do was get home and do some groveling to convince Neela to stay. So like the very considerate roommate I was trying to be, I stopped at her favorite pizza place to grab a pizza with her favorite topping (extra, for good measure).
I stood outside the apartment door for a minute, almost afraid to go in. Finally, after debating several approaches I decided that I should just play it cool. I opened the door and shouted a "Yo Neela!" that sounded lame even to my own ears. She answered from her room and I babbled something half-assed about a peace offering and a too-late promise to do the dishes. She shocked me by telling me that she was moving out tonight - she said something about Abby but I didn't really hear her, all I could think about was that she was leaving indefinitely - tonight. All I could do was stare in surprise around her room.
I knew her mind was already made up but I made an effort to get her to reconsider, "you wanna at least wait until you find a new place?" And then for the first time since I walked through the door, her eyes met mine. She replied with a quiet, "I don't think that's such a good idea." What could I say to that? I had two ways to go, I could either acknowledge that things were getting awkward, that staying respectable with each other was getting harder, and that it probably wasn't a good idea for her to stay here any longer lest I do something very stupid very soon. Or I could do what I did before: pretend I don't know what the hell she's talking about. I was all ready to pretend, and to try and convince her to stay, but the will to fake it, to pretend that I didn't have these feelings for her had gone out of me. So I simply nodded my head and agreed with her, "yeah, you're probably right." And I knew she was - she was right, because I was an idiot who had gone and ruined a perfectly good relationship by falling for a married woman who happened to be my roommate, colleague, and best friend. At that point I knew there was nothing else for it, she was going to leave, and rightfully so, and there was nothing that I could do about it. I guess the saying holds true, all good things must come to an end or was it you can't have too much of a good thing? I couldn't remember. She was packing up the last of her things and I was standing there in her doorway blathering on about good things, good times, tequila, and pizza. She was done packing and heading out of the doorway. I expected her to walk straight out, but she stopped before going out so we were standing in her doorway facing each other. She refused to look up at me, but as usual, I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. She glanced up at me quickly before handing me a familiar looking t-shirt. I took it out of her hand and sighed, "you know, I've been looking for this for like a month." The next few seconds were completely surreal. I found my eyes traveling from her forehead, down the curve of her nose and further down her dark smooth skin, seeking the gentle swell of her lips. Not for the first time, I noted how much taller I was then her. Also not for the first time, I noted how such a small person could have so much control over me. My eyes continued their search for her lips while my head unconsciously lowered to get a better angle. I knew somewhere in a dark crevice of my mind that I shouldn't be doing what I was doing, but I kept bending lower and lower until she took the situation out of my hands and walked out of the doorway while mumbling something I didn't manage to hear over the pounding of my heart. I felt like a teenager who had missed trying to kiss a girl for the first time. I wouldn't have done it at all if she had not said the words; "I rather like sleeping in it," which oddly tugged at me. For a moment I felt a silly sort of male pride at the fact that she had been sleeping in my shirt for a month. Not her husband's shirt, mine.
The noise of her clambering down the stairs clumsily with her bags brought me out of my trance - I realized that this was it. She was leaving, and after tonight, after what I had almost done, she was probably going to avoid me as avidly as possible and I decided that even though I knew it would amount to nothing I wanted her to know how I felt. I raced down the stairs of the apartment building and rushed to stop her. I begged for just one more second. I hadn't expected her to, but she stopped and waited; now that I had her attention I wasn't so sure anymore, but I plunged on. I turned this way and that in frustration. "I wish I didn't...feel how I feel," I said without looking at her. Then I looked up as I prepared to tell her the truth. I looked at her face and saw the apprehension in her doe-like eyes. She knew what I was going to say and she was dreading it. I took a millisecond to take in her expression and realized she wasn't ready. She wasn't ready for me to say it and she wasn't read to hear it, so I changed my mind in a heartbeat and made a gross understatement. "You're the best friend I've ever had." It didn't even nearly encompass what I wanted to tell her, but for the time being, it would have to do.
I offered her the shirt, which I had carried all the way out there thinking that she would appreciate it since she liked it so much. I tried to ignore the nagging thought that said I wanted her to take it because I wanted her to have something tangible of mine. I tried to ignore the nagging thought that said I wanted her take it because the fact that she had slept in my shirt for the past month stroked my male ego. I tried to ignore the nagging thought that said I wanted her to take it because then I could hold on to the belief (however false it may be) that my feelings weren't completely one-sided. But of course she didn't take it, there were far too many advantages in the exchange for me. She got into her taxi and left me standing there to watch her go. And I looked up at the sky silently asking some higher power to tell me how had such a good thing had gone so wrong.