Note to Self, an er fanfic

Notes: I actually had two post-ep ideas for this episode. This particular one was inspired by the letters Abby, Ray, and Neela were writing at the end. Ray/Neela pairing ahead. ;)

Rating: FRT (Fan Rated suitable for Teens and over)

Content Warning: None

Spoilers: Everything so far is fair game, but specific spoilers for "The Show Must Go On" (11.22).

Disclaimer: ER and its characters are the property of Michael Crichton, John Wells, Amblin Entertainment and Constant C Productions. No infringement intended, used without permission, please don't sue, yadda yadda yadda.

Note to Self

May 2005

"You still here," Ray called, spotting Neela as he exited the ER's double doors. "You didn't have to wait, you know. You should've gone home."

She shrugged. "I thought you might want the company."

They began walking, heading away from the ambulance bay.

Ray sighed. "What a night, huh?"

"Yeah," she agreed, returning his sigh, "but we made it."

He gave her a tired smile. "Guess we don't suck at this intern-thing as bad as we thought."

Neela answered with a weary smile of her own. "Guess not."

They started walking toward home, silence stretching between them until she spoke again.

"I knew you'd stay."

Ray shrugged. "Almost didn't."

"I'm glad you did." Another smile. "You were great tonight."

"Well, thank you, you weren't so bad yourself," he replied, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Neela shook her head and gave him a playful shove. "Wanker," she muttered, but her tired eyes sparkled with mischief, and the corners of her mouth turned up in a rueful grin.

He shot her the trademark Barnett smile. "Yeah, but you know you love me."

0-0-0-0-0-0

May 2009

The breeze washed over her, bringing with it the scent of spring flowers blooming in the city below. Normally, the roof had a calming effect on her, but today her stomach was full of butterflies, fluttering in nervous anticipation. She'd come a long way in the last four years - from timid intern to Chief Resident. She hadn't planned on applying for the position, but Ray had goaded her until she'd done it just to prove to him that she wouldn't get it.

But she had - despite the tough competition that Abby had presented - just like he'd told her she would. He'd had more confidence in her than she'd had in herself. But then, he always had.

And now they were starting as attendings.

She was excited to take on the challenge but she still had that nagging fear of failure. Like the end of her first year, it wasn't the knowledge that concerned her. She knew she had that in spades; Ray had taken to calling her Encyclopedia Rasgotra because - according to him - she'd memorized every medical textbook she'd ever read. Again, it was her lack of people skills that had her concerned.

She'd improved them a lot since her early days as an intern, finally finding some of the self-confidence she'd been lacking - though Ray's confidence in her hadn't hurt, either. But it hadn't been easy. She wasn't charismatic like he was, and she'd struggled for every bit of progress she'd made.

Still, she'd made it; they both had. They'd shared their successes and commiserated over their failures. The bonds of friendship had been stretched to their limits at times.

But they'd never broken.

In fact, they were stronger now than they'd ever been.

The thought made her smile. No matter what happened next, she knew they'd face the challenges of being attendings side-by-side; the same way they'd faced those of their residency.

They hadn't let each other down yet since that May evening - even when it would have been easier to - and they weren't about to start now.

0-0-0-0-0-0

He signed off on his last chart, putting it in the appropriate place as he glanced the clock.

Jerry grinned from behind the desk. "You off already?"

Ray nodded. "Yeah. Feels kinda weird, you know? Last shift as a resident. And me...an attending. Man, what were Lewis and Kovac smoking, huh?" He folded his arms across the desk. "So, you seen Neela?"

The other man shook his head. "Not for a couple hours at least."

"If you see her, will you tell her I'll be waiting for her in the lounge?"

Jerry nodded. "I'll give her the message."

"Thanks," he called over his shoulder, heading off in the appropriate direction.

The lounge was empty as he made his way to the counter to pour himself a cup of coffee. He took a sip and grimaced. Babinski must've made it today. Dumping the rest of what was in his cup down the sink, he decided that the first thing he was going to teach the residents as an attending was how to make a decent pot of coffee.

He shook his head.

An attending.

If someone had told him three years ago that this was where he'd be, he would have laughed and ordered a psych consult. But life was funny that way, and he'd learned that it often had a habit of working out in ways you'd never expect.

After the way Lewis had handled him toward the end of his first year, he'd never expected to make it to his second; had seriously considered not signing his contract - but a warm May evening in Wrigleyville had changed his perspective and his attitude toward medicine. Which wasn't to say that the rest of his residency had been easy.

Because it hadn't been.

Missed diagnoses and lost patients - he'd had his share of failures; questioned his career choice and abilities. Fortunately, he'd also had a roommate who'd threatened to give his ass a proper kicking if he even thought about quitting.

Neela could've done it, too - would've if she'd thought for a second that he was serious about hanging up his stethoscope. She was tough for being so petite, and he knew she'd hold him accountable - to his patients and to himself.

But it was a two way street, because she needed him just as much. She needed his confidence in her to compensate for her own insecurities, the same way he needed her toughness to keep him in line. They balanced each other - hadn't let each other fall since that night.

And he was counting on that to hold them steady, to make them into the attendings that Kovac and Lewis believed they could be.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Tearing open the pristine white envelope, she pulled out the paper within and carefully unfolded it, eyes scanning her own familiar scrawl. Some days, it felt like just yesterday that she'd sealed it up and put it in her locker, but so many things had changed - both personally and professionally - that some days it seemed like a lifetime ago.

Dear Neela, (God, that sounds so bloody stupid.)

Dr. Carter left tonight, and he mentioned the letter that Dr. Greene made him write to himself when he was an intern. Abby said that if it was good enough for Carter, it should be good enough for us. Well, here goes, then.

I can't believe I'll be an R2 in a few weeks. I don't know how to feel about that. I'm nervous...and scared. I have bloody lousy people skills. Not as bad as Morris's, but bad. I'm bitchy, and judgmental, and nitpicky. Just ask Ray, he hears it enough. I'll be responsible for teaching interns and med students now, and I haven't exactly done a bang-up job of it lately. How am I supposed to teach them if they all think I'm a snotty, stuck-up cow?

Not like Ray. Everyone likes Ray, and not just because he feeds the nurses. He's always joking and laid back; always so sure of himself. Like tonight, he was at Nick's party and the porch collapsed. But he kept his head; twisted Abby's arm into accepting four criticals - with no attendings on shift. And when the traumas pulled in, he was all business, totally in control; like he hadn't seriously considered not signing his contract only hours before - or caused a fatal air embolis on a stabbing victim just last week.

I wish I had that kind of confidence, and I wish Michael were here to tell me that everything is going to be all right. I'd believe him, too. I've always believed him - even when I didn't believe in myself - and he's always believed in me. And maybe that's the problem. I relied so much on his faith in me that I never developed any of my own.

Well, maybe I'll get the chance to find some.

Her chance had come six months later. She'd had to learn to have confidence in herself because Michael was gone. They'd gotten word from Iraq; a group of insurgents had launched a grenade attack on their makeshift hospital and he'd been one of five they'd lost. It had hit her hard, and she'd thrown herself into work, simultaneously pushing everyone away.

Everyone except Ray, who - no matter how hard she'd pushed him - had refused to move more than the emotional equivalent of a few feet.

Ray's decided to stay on. I'm not exactly surprised; I sort of had the feeling he would. But I am glad. As much as I hate to admit it, the ER wouldn't be the same without him. Sometimes his joking around is the only thing that makes the long shifts bearable. And who knows? Maybe some of his confidence will rub off on me. At least I hope so.

Sincerely,

Neela

And it had, though confidence wasn't the only thing she'd learned from him. She'd learned that it was okay to be imperfect, to not have all the answers; that he respected her for who she was - faults and all. That even though she was much stronger than she gave herself credit for, it was okay to need help - and more than okay to ask for it.

She hadn't known then just how much she would come to need him, or that he'd stay in more ways than one. When she'd acted like an injured animal, snapping at anyone who dared to come near her - angry at the world for all that she'd lost. When she'd woken up screaming from the nightmares - shaking uncontrollably from the disturbing images her imagination had conjured up. When she'd cried until her eyes burned and she didn't think she had any tears left - but always seemed to find more.

Ray had stayed through it all.

He'd healed her pain, chased away her nightmares, and dried her tears; until she woke up one morning and realized that she'd slept straight through the night for the first time in eighteen months - and thinking about Michael was no longer so painful that she literally couldn't breathe. Her broken heart had mended, finally ready to be opened to the man who'd fixed it.

They'd taken things slowly - tentatively - at first, getting comfortable with their changing level of intimacy. But things had quickly progressed. Now, eighteen months later, they were still very much together, still very much in love - she looked down at the diamond on her left hand - and well past tentative.

She smiled softly. Thinking about him always seemed to center her, restoring her nervous thoughts to balance. And today was no exception, as she looked out over the city once more - the setting sun reminding her that their shift was over and he'd be waiting for her downstairs.

Folding up the letter, she slipped it back into her pocket and left the roof, ready for the new chapter in her life - both personal and professional - to begin.

0-0-0-0-0-0

He moved to his locker, opening it to gather up his things. His eyes landed on the envelope, yellowed with age and crumpled from being smashed behind his bag. Pulling it out, he smoothed it the best he could.

He hadn't thought about it since he'd placed it in his locker the night Carter left, and now, he was curious to see what he'd written. Closing his locker door, he crossed the room and dropped his bag next to the couch. Folding himself onto it, he tore open the envelope and pulled out the rumpled paper within, carefully unfolding it.

Dear Ray, (Hey, it was good enough for Neela)

Abby's making us all write these stupid letters. She decided that if it was good enough Carter, it should be good enough for us. Whatever. Sorry if the handwriting sucks, but the adrenaline rush hasn't quite worn off yet. Oh, right, guess I should explain about that, huh? Okay, here goes:

You went to Nick's party in Wrigleyville tonight. With Morris, of all people, and no, not like that. He kind of invited himself along, you know, like usual. Nick was pretty annoyed, too, because he wanted you to bring Neela. Not that she would've actually gone, or anything. But the party was fine. You made out with Jessica, Morris got wasted, and then...the porch collapsed. Like right in front of you.

And yeah, you panicked. You had a really rough couple weeks. First Carter chewed your ass. Then Pratt. Then Lewis - twice. And finally Neela. Again. But then, you deserved that one. Let's just say next time a stabbing comes in, you will not take down any wound dressings until after they've been tubed. So, yeah, you fucked up pretty bad last week. So bad, that you were seriously thinking of not signing your resident contract. But tonight changed your mind.

He remembered that night clearly, as if it were yesterday and not three years ago. And he was certain that if the porch hadn't collapsed at Nick's that night, he wouldn't have stayed on at County. But it had and he did, and despite the ups and downs, he'd never regretted his decision to stay.

The adrenaline kicked in, and after that, you were...a doctor. Like, really. Assessed over 25 patients in 8 minutes; even Lewis would've been proud. If she'd actually been here to see you in action, that is. See, Carter's farewell party was tonight, too. And all the attendings and half the nurses had gone, which left Neela and Abby holding down the fort with a skeleton crew, and the ER closed to trauma.

It took a whole lot of arm-twisting, but you finally convinced Abby to open the ER. She did a symphisiotomy to deliver Baby Janis, and you and Neela used the femoral cutdown Kovac taught you to save Riles. Riley, Molly and Baby Janis, Jess, Nick...they're all alive tonight because of you. If you'd let Rescue 56 take them to St. Rafe's instead of strong-arming Abby into opening County; if you hadn't acted in the best interests of your patients, like a real doctor...all of them would be dead.

Sometimes the job sucks, and by the time you read this, you'll probably have wanted to quit at least once a shift - not that Neela would let you, or anything - but remember tonight. Yeah, you still have a lot to learn, and yeah, you'll make mistakes. But this medicine thing? You're good at it.

Your former self,

Ray

P.S. - About Neela. If by the time you read this, you still haven't made a move on her? You're an idiot. (And if you haven't? What the fuck are you waiting for?)

He refolded the letter and slipped it back into its envelope before tucking it safely into his bag, a sigh escaping his lips. There were definitely days when the job sucked, and he'd been tempted to quit plenty more than just once a shift. He'd had a lot to learn, and though he'd made his share of mistakes, he had indeed discovered that he was good at medicine. The letter was right about everything. Almost.

He smiled.

He wasn't an idiot.

Of course, things between him and Neela probably hadn't worked out quite the way his former self had planned. Not surprising, really; his plans had a bad habit of backfiring on him.

And this was no exception.

Back then, he'd been immature and commitment-shy; out for nothing more than a good time. And falling in love? Well, that would never happen to him.

But it had.

He'd watched her suffer through eighteen months of emotional hell, and every time he'd made her take her anger out on him instead of herself...or held her when she woke up screaming until the shaking stopped and she fell back to sleep...or dried her tears and said stupid things to see her smile again...he fell a little further.

Every look, every smile, every kiss, every touch, every tear, every doubt, every failure; he was still falling.

And commitment?

Anticipation coursed through him as he thought about the coming Saturday; worries forgotten as she entered the lounge.

Shouldering his bag, he rose from the couch, crossing the room, and she met him halfway as he leaned in and kissed her hello. "Ready?"

She nodded, curling an arm around his waist as his draped across her shoulders, pulling her close against him.

That was a word he was no longer afraid of.

The End