Notes: Hi! Umm, so I've sort of become addicted to writing, it seems. Here's Chapter 4 of "Two Worlds" for those who are spoiled about the end of this season and the start of next season. Thank you so much to everyone who has read/reviewed—your words reassure me that my addiction is not in vain.
Disclaimer: I do not, and will not ever, own ER.
The mechanical crunch of the elevator doors rang through Neela's ears as she stood staring blankly at the compartment wall in front of her. She was headed downstairs for what seemed to be the tenth surgical consult in less than five minutes; Crenshaw had put her on ER duty for the fourth time this week. As the boxed compartment moved closer and closer to the first floor Neela could feel her stomach dropping in rhythm, and just as she thought she had only two more floors to go, the crunch and sudden opening of the elevator doors forced her to look up. Neela's heart dropped to where her stomach had been just a few moments earlier as she stared at the figure in front of her. It was none other than Katey.
Neela involuntarily moved further into the corner of the compartment to make room for her, all the while cursing at herself for not having taken the stairs. Katey, now an intern, had fatefully matched at County and was doing her rounds in the ICU just one floor below Neela. The two had tried to keep out of each other's way as possible, and it had largely worked. Except for these intensely uncomfortable and awkward moments. They had not spoken since Katey had unceremoniously shouted at her after Ray's accident, blaming her for what had happened to the man she clearly cared for. Neela didn't blame her—she might have done the same if she were in Katey's position—but she just couldn't take seeing the fire and utter hostility in her eyes. Every time she passed her in the hallway, Neela felt like Katey's eyes were boring into her soul, setting what little she had left on fire. This encounter was no different.
Katey stood opposite Neela with her jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed, refusing to give in to the temptation to say something nasty. She would just have to endure a few more seconds in her presence, and then she could bolt through the doors and forget Neela even existed. It was at this moment that Neela spoke, uttering something that was meant to sound like words but instead came out as jumbled syllables.
"HvyouherdnethingfromRay?" Neela was looking down at her shoes; it had taken enough courage to speak up, and she didn't think she could muster up even more to actually look at Katey at the same time.
Katey narrowed her eyes further as she looked at Neela. "Sorry?"
"Umm, have you heard anything from Ray...lately?" She attempted to gulp down her immense anxiety, but it only served to make her look entirely vulnerable in front of Katey. And the jilted lover was more than happy to take advantage of it.
"Why do you care?" She said maliciously.
Neela's tone didn't change—it was still the same calm, slightly monotone, voice she used with everyone without knowing she used it. "I just wanted to ask if he was alright," she said.
Katey let out a snort. "You wanted to ask if he was alright," she said sarcastically, "...after he lost his legs because of you, you wanted to ask if he was alright..."
The shrill ring of the elevator bell abruptly ended their conversation. Neela moved to brush past the doors as they opened, and just as the contraption was set to close again, Katey called out, "No, I haven't...but I'm sure he's far from alright...you took care of that, didn't you!" With another deadly look, she was gone.
Neela's body was shaking uncontrollably, her palms cold and sweaty and the hairs on the back of her neck standing on edge. She should have kept her mouth shut. But she just couldn't! Knowing that Katey may have heard something, anything, from Ray was enough to pluck up the courage to ask about him. Neela needed to know that he was okay, that he was getting through this. Every time she went to the mailbox, she tried to keep her hopes up. Today, she'd say. Today, he'll have written me back. And just as the glimmer of hope in her heart had risen to a peak, she would open the box and find it dark and empty and the little shining light would be extinguished only to go through the same misery the next day. Seeing Katey in that elevator had been her chance to hear the words, "Yes, he's fine," but she should have known better than to think that such a scenario would end without further anguish.
As Neela rushed past the hallway-full of patients, doctors, and nurses, she headed straight for the hospital doors. She couldn't offer a surgical consult when her hands were too unsteady to even hold a pen, much less think clearly enough to make an informed decision. She burst through the doors and into the ambulance bay, her eyes scanning the area and finding a bench near the street. As Neela sat down, she unconsciously wrapped her arms around her middle and began rocking back and forth, tears streaming down her face. How long would she go through this? How long would it take for all of the guilt, grief, and isolation to swallow her alive?
She sat like this for what seemed to be hours; Neela had lost her sense of time a while ago. The tears had dried and she was sitting staring almost blankly into the night sky, her arms still wrapped around her stomach. It was at this moment that Pratt walked swiftly up to her, his coat trailing in the wind behind him.
"Neela, what happened to you? We've been looking everywhere for you—we needed a consult fifteen minutes ago..." His eyes wandering over Neela, the position of her hands and the look in her eyes, he immediately cut himself off. Something was clearly wrong.
"Neela? What's wrong?" Greg's concern could be heard in the way he spoke to her, a tone of voice that he usually only used with Neela. He felt a responsibility towards her that he didn't think he'd ever feel towards anyone—not even Chaz. It was the concern of a brother.
For the first time in six months, Neela turned her face toward Greg and looked him straight in the eye. What came out of her mouth left him speechless.
"Why didn't you let me die? After the war rally, why didn't you let me die?" They were the most heart-wrenching words he had ever heard, and to have them come from Neela only served to tear at his insides even more.
"Neela...why would you say that?" He wanted to sit next to her on the bench, but something told him she didn't want him there. And sure enough with one swift movement, Neela stood up and faced Greg in a way that he had only seen her use once—when she and Ray were standing in the hallway of the ER yelling at each other.
"What good am I to anyone anyway, Greg? All I manage to do is rip people's hearts out, remember?" Her arms had begun flying in every other direction as she bellowed out the words that had raged in her soul for far too long.
"I'm dead inside, can't you see? He doesn't want to talk to me; he doesn't want anything to do with me! I've written him 186 letters, Greg. Every time I think I'm getting better and the pain gets a little easier to bear, I start spiraling down again until I feel like I've got nothing left. Don't you see that I can't actually live life anymore, not without..."
"Neela..." Greg couldn't stand seeing her like this. But the overwhelming pain in her voice and the slow drop of a tear in the corner of her eye reminded him of a night much like this one, when a hopeless and rash ER doctor had said something not much different. Neela's 'Every time the pain gets a little easier to bear, I start spiraling down again until I feel like I've got nothing left' had been his 'Every time I think I'm turning the corner and I know what I'm doing, I end up falling backwards again.' He couldn't help but think how off their damned timing was.
Pratt placed his hands on her shoulders and looked resolutely into her face. "Listen to me, Neela. Ray's in denial, he doesn't know what he's doing—hell, he's trying to deal with being in a wheelchair for the rest of his life! But sooner or later, he's gonna realize that pushing you away means nothing. He's gonna realize that he still loves you. If you give up now, you're never gonna see him get to that point."
Neela said nothing as she looked at Greg and the certainty in his eyes.
"...So he doesn't talk to you and he doesn't write you back. You know where he lives, don't you?" Greg's rhetorical question hit Neela like a splash of cold water, and she looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. Ray's complete lack of correspondence had made her believe that she wasn't wanted, and her promise to visit seemed to be hinged upon the idea that she was. But now, Neela came to the realization that maybe, just maybe, if he saw her standing in front of him he would finally believe that she truly did love him more than she could ever express with words. Maybe he would push her away again; maybe he would tell her that he couldn't forgive her. But all she wanted was a chance to show him that she was willing to fight her own inner demons for him—that she wouldn't give up. All she could do was try.
