Disclaimer: I don't own Ray, Neela or ER in general. They belong to NBC. Nor do I own George Bailey, Clarence, or 'It's a Wonderful Life'
Kind of AU, but with some spoilers for Season 15, its premise is in Season 12. Its hard for me to describe, so I suggest you read to find out. All I will say is that I think its kind of angsty (surprise!)

-- Maybe, Possibly --

Its been five years since she died. Five years of the world still turning. She was no George Bailey, County didn't fall apart without her presence, things still happened the way I imagine they would have if she'd still been around. Abby and Luka had a baby, a boy, they got married and eventually moved away; Gallant made it back in time to say goodbye to her, he stuck around for a few weeks and then went back to Iraq, dying there a couple of months later. Pratt continued to play the field until he met the lovely Bettina, an explosion killing him just when he was about to propose, Morris found Hope, only for her to leave a few months later. Like I said, life went on.

My world stopped turning though, I was just beginning to realise what she meant to me, how important she was in my life, and then she was gone. She was no George Bailey except to me, and this wasn't It's A Wonderful Life, there was no Clarence to show her how much she was missed, to make her stay. I blame Greg for her death, never quite forgiving him until the day he died, I know she was a grown woman, capable of looking after herself, but if he'd only kept an eye on her, if only he'd stopped her going into that building, life might have been so different.

Maybe Michael would have come back, and they'd have continued where they left off.

Possibly I'd tease her about her lack of spontaneity. Maybe Michael would propose, and she'd say yes, proving me wrong.

Maybe she'd still be living with me when he went back to war, leaving us alone, together.

Possibly I'd give up the late nights and groupies just to spend one more moment with my roomie.

Maybe I'd become an expert at poker, and cook for her, maybe I'd enjoy going home more than going out.

Possibly we'd get too close, feel too much, and she'd leave, packing my heart along with her clothes.

Maybe she'd change her speciality, move into surgery, out of the ER.

Maybe she'd push me away when he died, rejecting my comfort, my love.

Possibly she'd turn to the new guy, and not me, when it was finally time to move on.

Maybe we'd start hurting each other, with angry words, and dirty looks, maybe I'd no longer be able to see her face without aching inside.

Possibly we'd share a coffee one day and she'd tell me about kidney transplants and open heart surgery.

Maybe we'd start to make our way back to each other. Maybe we'd go for a drink and it'd be like old times.

Possibly one night I'd give her a ride home. Maybe, I'd finally get to taste her kiss.

Possibly she'd still be seeing that other guy, and maybe, I'd end up in a fight with him, over her.

Possibly she wouldn't come after me.

Maybe I'd drink too much that night, and, maybe I'd find myself under a truck, possibly I'd even have to leave her behind.

Maybe there would be letters and phone calls, a visit, another kiss, maybe it would all work out in the end.

Maybe, possibly, in some alternative universe, maybe she'd just simply love me back.

Maybe, possibly.