Disclaimer: I don't own ER. Here's the next instalment, there's some medical jargon in it, but I think it fits with the character. Lots of people have asked when Ray's going to appear and this morning I would have replied the chapter after next, but I've just planned two more scenes and I'm not sure where they're going to fit in. So all I can say is that he will appear at some point! I'm craving reviews, so please, please review!
I don't think I'd ever felt as bad as I did when I woke up that day, even after my accident I didn't feel that bad. It was like my worst hangover magnified by ten, worse than that. My head was spinning and throbbing, my stomach felt like a bubbling cauldron and it was all the more painful because I'd had no intention of waking up. No one was meant to find me, to save me. I felt like I should be thanking Abby and Greg for rescuing me, that it was expected of me, when in fact I was cursing them, because they'd thrown me back into this crushing abyss of pain and guilt. I couldn't thank anyone for that.

I read my chart later, of course I did, I saw that they'd treated me with an activated charcoal solution to neutralise anything poisonous that I might have taken, there was only alcohol but they would have done that just in case, and to prevent any more of the alcohol entering my blood stream. It was too far absorbed by then to make pumping my stomach viable, and for that I was grateful, it was the one small mercy that day. They did all the usual tests: U+E, lab glucose, lactate and osmal gap. and hooked me up to an IV to raise my fluid levels to stop me becoming dehydrated. When they'd brought me in I'd been suffering from mild hypothermia, a fairly common symptom of alcohol poisoning I remembered from my ER days, a few more hours and they wouldn't have been able to save me. How I wished I'd had those extra hours.

The effects of the alcohol confused me and I kept expecting Ray to appear in the ER, even though it was six months since he'd left. I still expected to see him, in fact I craved it, but I dreaded it too, because seeing him would mean hearing the hatred in his voice and seeing the bitterness in his eyes and I could stand that even less than not seeing him. It's ironic that as soon as he wasn't there I realised how much he meant to me, I guess I'd assumed that he would always be in my life. His number was the only one in my phone that I rang anymore; he was the only person that I wanted to talk to. I'd rung him the night before, I don't know what I'd thought it would achieve, perhaps if he'd offered his forgiveness I wouldn't have pushed it so far, I'm not sure. To be honest I think I'd gone too far by then, I think all I really wanted that night was to hear his voice one last time, to tell him how sorry I was and how much I cared. To say goodbye without quite saying the words. But, as usual, he disconnected the call before I uttered a sound and again I died a little bit more. That's how much pain I caused him, he wouldn't even listen to my voice.

It was a no win situation, I knew I would never be free of him because the guilt I felt over his accident, and how I'd treated him before it, would hang over everything I did for the rest of my life. But I didn't want to be free of him either, I wanted him to be a part of my life, I couldn't stand for him not to be a part of it. I just didn't know how make it right.

I hated that everyone in the ER was seeing me like that, and, most likely, judging me without knowing the full, sorry tale. I knew that they would all see me as the alcoholic 'would be' surgeon, the girl who could spout medical journals but who didn't love her husband enough, the friend who punished her best friend for the guilt she felt, not someone who was struggling under the weight of two years of grief and hatred, and if I'm honest, self pity. They could never understand that, because I'd promised Ray that I wouldn't tell them what had happened to him. With hindsight I should have done so, perhaps it would have been easier to bear if I'd been able to talk about my guilt. But I couldn't break my promise, it was the one thing I could do for him.


'Dr Pratt can I have a word outside?' Katey was once again on ER duty. After her rotations, she'd been offered a place in the Psych team, and now spent much of her working day in the ER.

The exam room doors swung shut 'Look, I think we need to admit her for a few days…'

'No!' she turned to look at him.

'Sorry, what are you saying Dr Pratt? She's tried to kill herself, we need to take this seriously'

'I know that Dr Alvaro, believe me I know it, it's just…'

'It's just what? She needs help, we can monitor her, get her on meds, start therapy sessions. She needs professional help. You said' she looked hard at him 'that her apartment was a state, that she wasn't looking after herself, Dr Dubenko says she's been running herself into the ground upstairs, this was a cry for help, we can't ignore it' she picked up the telephone to call the Psych ward to admit her, but he grabbed the receiver from her and slammed it down.

'No, what she needs is her friends around her, looking after her, we can get her better' medically he knew she should be admitted, but as her friend he couldn't let that happen, he owed it to her, he'd already let her down so much.

'What friends? The ones who deserted her when she needed them?'

'That's uncalled for' but he knew it wasn't 'what about you? You're better placed to notice the signs than the rest of us. You're just as much in the wrong!'

'That's different and you know it!' The volume was rising in the corridor. She pulled herself up to her full height, hands on her hips. He was a supposed friend of Neela's; she remembered that much from when she was on her surgical rotation, back when she'd thought Neela and her could be friends; before she'd let things with Ray come between them. She just couldn't understand why he was fighting her on this. 'What are you proposing then, Dr Pratt?'

He deflated, what was he proposing? To be honest he didn't know, he just didn't want her stuck in here, on display to everyone. It was clear she couldn't stay on her own; Abby had her hands full with Joe. There wasn't really anyone else apart from him. He would have to look after her 'she'll stay with me, I'll look after her, get her through this'

'She needs professional help. Are you saying that you can give her that? Are you willing to make the sacrifices that that will entail? This isn't looking after someone who's broken a leg, this is serious. It needs to be done right'

'She's my best friends widow, I care about her, she's like family, I would do anything to make sure she's okay' and he would, when Mike had died he'd made a promise to himself that he would look after her, and it was clear to him that he'd neglected that promise over the last few months, maybe even longer, and the guilt was eating him up inside.

'If you're sure, and I can't convince you otherwise, I'll have to accept that. She'll have to come in for cognitive therapy sessions and I'll prescribe some antidepressants, we'll need to keep an eye on the dosage, you know it can take a while to get it right. You'll need to make sure she takes them' she paused 'I'll need you to sign her discharge papers as well. This is a serious commitment you're making Dr Pratt, are you certain it's the right thing?'

'Yes' there was no doubt in his mind.

She turned to walk out the room, but at the door she stopped and turned to face him, a tender smile lit up her face 'I admire your decision Greg, she's lucky to have friends like you, if you need anything, anything at all, just call me'

'Thanks but you're wrong, she's not lucky. I've let her down lately, its time I made it up to her'

'I think we've all done things recently that we regret, but we've got the chance to put them right now'


Reference: Information regarding treatment - www save org / basics / qna.html