Disclaimer: I don't own ER. Prequel to Missing Her from Neela's POV. I'm going through a serious spell of angst writing, and after finally watching all of 'I Don't' last night I had to write this. It's not quite as snappy as Missing Her, which I can almost recite now, but I had too much to say! Spoilers for Season 13.21-23 and 14.1, though I've only seen a smidgeon of 13.22 so some bits of this might be a bit wrong, and my timescale also could be wrong.
You leave a message on his voicemail that night. It doesn't say what you want to say, you just ask to meet for breakfast, coffee, you don't care what, you just want to see him. You go back into the room and smile at all the happiness you see there. You know he should be there with you, you both deserve this happiness too.
You wait for your phone to ring but it doesn't, you make excuses for him: hangover, work, embarrassment, they all seem plausible. A day stretches into two, then three. He's an adult you think, you don't need to know his every move, it's not like you're a couple, yet. But there's concern bubbling in the pit of your stomach, which for the moment you choose to ignore.
You listen to the CD he gave you, track 9 on repeat late into the night, you think he knows you so well, it sums you up perfectly, your hesitation to make a move towards what you know in your heart is right. Listening to his song reassures you that your decision is right, he really is the person you should be with, and your heart lifts with that thought. So you try and ring him again but there's still no answer, you look at your watch, it's a quarter to midnight, he's probably at a gig and can't hear it ring, so you leave another message and hope this one is returned.
At work Katey keeps shooting you looks filled with venom, but there's nothing new in that. It's a shame, you think; at the start you'd thought you could be friends, evidently not.
After five days the concern has taken over your stomach, there's no space for food and if you're honest you don't feel much like eating. Its keeping you awake at night, that and the panic fluttering in your heart that you've left it too late, that's he moved on. But you remember how he looked at you before the wedding, like you were the only person in the world to him, the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth as you came so close to telling him that he has your heart, the feel of his thumb caressing your wrist, and you think that nothing could change that, not in five days.
The next day you visit his apartment, you still think of it as yours, who knows, you think, perhaps it will be again and that brings a smile to your face. You knock firmly on the door, hoping that he'll answer, but he doesn't. You wonder if he still keeps the spare key in the same place; you reach up and feel along the top of the doorframe and there it is. Dust falls as you pull it down. The apartment is eerily dark as you enter, and there's a pile of mail behind the door; you fight back the fear that's welling inside you. The glow of the fish tank draws you nearer and your stomach turns when you see the dead fish floating on the surface. You wander through the rest of the apartment, feeling stunned when you see your old room as you left it, but it's clear to you that he's not been here for days. You bite back the tears that are welling in your eyes, you're not quite sure what you're really feeling; apprehension, anxiety, fear, worry, panic, concern, they're all there, but most of all it's dread.
You consider the possibilities, he could be staying with friends, but why isn't he returning your calls, he could be hurt, in hospital, but surely he would have rung you, you don't let your mind go further than that, you know you won't be able to function if you face those fears and your next shift starts soon.
It's a hard shift, the worry eating you inside, plus discussing Michael, something you never find easy, especially now when you're ready to finally admit your feelings for Ray. The anti-war rally gets you thinking and you decide to go, after you've caught up on some sleep and after you've tried to call him again.
But as you walk out your phone starts to ring and the tension leaves your body as you see his name, it takes you a moment to remember that you need to answer the call, you're so relieved. But your world comes crashing down around you at his words. He's hurt, he's in hospital. All thoughts of the rally and sleep leave your mind and you hail the first cab you see.
You walk down the strange, white, empty corridors of this unknown place, the worry flooding through your body, so many what ifs attacking your mind. Then you see him and a tentative smile springs to your face, you think it can't be that bad. And then Katey rolls the chair back and you think you've forgotten how to breathe. You stare, transfixed, as the tears run down your face.
At first you find it hard to look at him, to stop the tears from falling. His words cut through you like paper through skin, stinging on the surface but the damage delving so much deeper. You want to tell him he's wrong, but you know what he's saying was true, but you no longer want it to be. The shock and despair makes it hard to speak though, and you just sit there quietly, as the salty water continues to leak from your eyes.
As the hours pass you move closer, wanting to narrow the gap between you, wanting him to know that you're not going anywhere, even though you still can't find the words. You miss the easy banter that you used to have, but you can see its not appropriate now. You want to reach out and hold his hand, but every inch of skin you can see looks red and sore and you don't want to cause him any more pain so you settle for sitting there, leaning your body closer. You're not sure how long you've sat there but the light has moved around the room, as doctors and nurses have come and gone.
You sit with him while he sleeps, he looks so peaceful, like a little boy, and you can't comprehend the devastation that your indecisiveness has caused him.
Your dreams are lying in tatters at your feet but that's not important now, despite what he said you are going to be there for him. He will get through this; you'll make sure of it. His mother's words offer you some comfort, but you look at how she is with Katey, in her role as surrogate girlfriend, and you think that that should be you.
You know he's still asleep, but you can't just walk away when it's time for them to leave, and you can't say goodbye, it's too final. You press your lips to an unmarked spot on his neck and you feel the same jolt you always feel when you touch him. And as he turns his head and you look into his gorgeous hazel/green eyes you know he feels it too. You make your promise to him; so much you still want to say.
You want to fight back at Katey's words, but like his earlier ones you know they're true, so you just stand there and let her say them.
You don't want to miss him, you think in the cab, and a plan starts to form in your mind, you have some outstanding leave, you've never been to Baton Rouge...
You end up at the rally after all, not sure how you got there, you wander through the crowds, a couple of sentences striking a chord, and for a few minutes you think of something that isn't him, but your thoughts quickly return, as they always do, to him. A voice calls out your name and you turn and the edges of your mouth rise in an imitation of a smile.
And then something happens, you're not sure what, all you know is that it causes panic, frantic pushing and shoving in the crowd surrounding you.
Missing him takes on a new meaning as you find yourself falling to the ground. The opportunities you missed to tell him how you feel, the time you missed spending together, all the times you lay in bed and missed him, missed living with him, all the things you never though you would miss but you did, they all flash before your eyes, more painful than the injuries that are tearing your body apart.
You think that you never did tell him how much you miss him. You don't realise that that will be your final thought. With one last carelessly placed stranger's foot, the missing him stops. Forever.