A/N: Thanks for your reviews. It makes the next installment easier to write. We're getting into Season 15 stuff now, so if you haven't seen it or don't want to, be forewarned. That being said, I wrote my beginning and outlined this story long before this season played out on TV, so there may be discrepancies with canon.
Chapter 29 – The Show Is Over, Say Goodbye
"It was weird, Greg," Ray explained to his friend a few days later. "She told me to fight for a relationship with someone else. What does that even mean?"
Greg scratched his head. He was dealing with his own stuff with Bettina and didn't feel qualified to give relationship advice to anyone. "I don't know. I guess it means that she's over you."
"But it didn't really feel like that. It felt like she was holding something back."
Pratt nodded. "Okay, then maybe she's just trying to make you think she's okay with it so you don't know how upset she is about you wanting to be with someone else."
"That's the problem, though. She thinks, or thought, I was rushing off to pursue some relationship with Alyssa."
"Well, weren't you?" Pratt was thoroughly confused.
"Not exactly." This wasn't helping. Ray hopped off the counter and grabbed a chart. "I'll figure out something." Pratt watched, head shaking, as Ray walked off to see a patient.
When Ray returned, Dr. Wilcox was waiting for him at the admit desk. The residency director ushered him into the lounge where he announced that he had given Ray the entire Memorial Day Weekend off. Ray attempted to protest, stating that he needed the shifts to make his goal of a year-end graduation, but Wilcox was immobile on the subject.
"Ray," he began rather impassionedly, "You need a break. You've been working so hard to make up your lost time that you've barely had a day off in the last five months. I know you want to finish as quickly as you can, but that's what leads to burnout. The most you'd miss is three shifts, and you need a vacation."
He didn't like the idea of missing his shifts, but he couldn't argue with Dr. Wilcox. Well, he could, but it really wouldn't do any good. Plus, he'd have three days to spend in Baton Rouge. He was scheduled for the overnight shift on Wednesday and Tuesday bracketing the holiday weekend, so he would actually have even more free time. He booked a flight leaving Thursday at noon and one returning on Tuesday. The more he thought about it, the more he was looking forward to the trip. He was thinking he would have to thank Dr. Wilcox for his insistence on this vacation.
Over the next few weeks, he maintained his insane schedule. He assumed Neela's was equally rough, as he hadn't seen her for over a week. He was moonlighting on transports on his off days and shifts, and according to his roommate, Bruce Chen, a third-year surgery resident, Neela had a patient in SICU requiring most of her time after she developed an infection involving her aortic graft. He thought about going up to see if she needed anything but eventually decided against it. It wasn't as if he would be adding any medical knowledge, and he assumed his presence would only be a nuisance. So he stayed away. When he heard that her patient had died, Ray sent her a text that went unanswered.
Then, word trickled down that Dubenko was leaving, something about a blow-up in M&M or Grand Rounds. He'd left Neela unsupervised in the OR, and it came to light as she presented the case at conference. According to Brenner, Anspaugh was livid. Rather than face disciplinary action, Dubenko was resigning. Ray kicked himself for missing Neela's presentation; he'd been on overnight. But he was sure this revelation would have more disastrous effects on Neela than just losing her patient. It was after finding out what was happening that he decided to look for her.
Pratt had some sort of craziness going on with one of his patients. Abby had been gone most of the day with Luka, although she was supposed to be working, he thought. Morris was also working, and there were several other residents milling around. He surveyed the department, deciding it was well enough staffed before walking into the ambulance bay to if she might have stepped outside for some sunshine. He thought about walking to Jumbo Mart to get out of the building for a minute, but he had charts to finish before he left. He finally realized he was going to have to look for her in her own habitat.
When he reached the surgical floor, the complete lack of activity took him by surprise. It was never this quiet. The ORs were empty, the board was clear, the SICU was almost deserted, and no one was manning the main desk. Ray walked up and down the hall a couple of times, finding only one girl from Central Supply who had no idea where anyone was or why there were no cases in progress. In a last-ditch effort, he thought about knocking on the lounge door or even walking in. He was a physician, after all. He placed his open palm on the door, almost pushing against it before it was yanked back from him, knocking him off balance. He grabbed the doorjamb to keep from falling forward as his pager began to squawk at his waist.
Simon Brenner clasped Ray's arm to steady him. He reached for his own pager, vibrating on his unbuckled belt. Over Brenner's shoulder, Neela was checking hers as well. She wheeled around until her eyes met Ray's. Her hand flew to her tousled hair as she dropped her head and scrunched down in the armchair behind her, realizing she was wearing only a camisole. Ray could see the two small impressions her nipples pressed against the silk as she reached for her shirt on the floor beside the chair. She refused to look at Ray.
Brenner spoke. "You steady there, mate?"
Ray's heart pounded so loudly, he was quite certain Brenner could hear it. "What? Yeah, I'm fine. I was just looking for Nee…sorry. I'm sorry. I have to go."
"Yeah, we've been paged as well. All hell must have broken loose. See you down there in a few minutes."
Ray was already halfway to the elevator and didn't acknowledge Brenner any further. He pressed the down button, but when the car didn't immediately appear, he pushed through the door to the stairwell. He made it to the first landing before he stopped to process what he had just seen. He leaned his head against the wall, lightly beating it against the cinder blocks as he tried to believe what he had allowed, even caused to happen. He dropped down to sit on the step, but his time for personal reflection was cut short by his pager. This time it was 911, and he really had to go. Undoubtedly, Neela and Brenner would be there, too.
He dragged himself down the rest of the stairs to the ground floor. Gurneys of injured people were crowding the hallway, even back by the elevators and stairs. He fought against the current to the desk where Frank was furiously directing traffic and attempting to answer the phone. Brenner had called it accurately, all hell had broken loose. Ray locked eyes with Frank long enough for the big man to motion him to the trauma rooms.
"Ambulance transporting Pratt's patient blew up," panted Frank.
Ray's pulse quickened, his breaths started to come in short spurts. He opened his mouth to ask, but Frank beat him to it. "They're in Trauma 2. Go help Archie."
Ray nodded and pressed through the crowd toward the trauma room door, hoping he was prepared for what he was going to find when he got there.
