Title: Onderweg (2 of 4)
Author: Leven
Rating: FRT, some swearing but not much else, maybe more in later chapters
Disclaimer: I don't own Ray, Neela or ER in general. They belong to NBC and all the other people who have something thing to do with this show. Song belongs to Abel
Spoilers: N/A
Summary: She left him a long time ago. The only thing he needs from her now is closure.
A/N: Verse 2, sucky translation # 2. I am never translating a Dutch song into English again.
Chapter 2
ik zie de velden (I see the fields)
I start walking slowly now. I never ran in London, it was unnecessary and I've noticed I'm out of breath a lot quicker than I was when I worked in chicago. I worked as a pediatrician in a small hospital in one of the quietest parts of the city. Not exactly where I imagined to end up. It was nice there, I made some good friends and some less good friends. We weren't as close as the staff at County, but we cared about each other enough to get upset if one of us were to get hit by a bus. Not that that happened, though there were people there who I'd gladly have pushed under a bus.
I met some great kids in that hospital. Somehow British kids seemed much nicer and well-behaved than the American brats I'd come across before. But maybe I was biased, maybe it was only because the life of a simple pediatrician is less hectic than that of an ER doctor.
It still wasn't for me, really. I've always been okay with kids, maybe it's my immaturity. Probably. But I loved the ER. I loved the thrill and the knowledge that you didn't know what would happen next. Here it was appointments and scheduals. I didn't have a band there either, to take my mind off things. I played my guitar sometimes, to unwind. Sometimes I went to the gym, just so I didn't become a complete slob.
But all I was, if you look at it, was half of who I was before. That's what she'd reduced me to.
langs me heen gaan huizen (houses pass me by)
het is stil achter de ruiten (it's quiet behind the windows)
wie kan mij zien? (who can see me?)
I'm a couple of blocks away from our appartement. Suddenly I realize that I walked here all the way from the trainstation. Okay, so I took the bus too and I stopped a couple of times on the way, but I doubt I've ever walked this much in one day. Not even at the gym. I grin at my accomplishment and mentally pat myself on the back. It's eerily quiet on the streets today, while it's not even that late in the day yet. I check my watch. Okay. So maybe it is. Everyone's at work now. If it were this time in London and I were there I would probably be working too. But I'm not, I'm here. And I'm still trying to convince myself that this is where I should be.
Without really thinking about it I stop right infront of my appartment building. It looks exactly the same. Like the only thing that's gotten older after these three years is me. Suddenly it starts to rain. I chuckle. Typical. That's one thing that London has too. Rain. Lots and lots of rain. I look around for a place to hide, but this street is not the best place to go for shelter. Terrific. Just terrific.
Some rude old man bumps into me and growls something can't quite make out. I raise my eyebrow and resist sticking out my tongue. The man waives at me with his cane and calls me 'one of those damn no good rock hooligans' which causes me to start laughing uncontrolably. He mumbles something about drugs and hookers before he spits on the sidewalk and scurries away as fast as his old legs can take him. I roll my eyes at him. Old people these days have no manners.
I notice a piece of paper on the window of my appartment. I really should stop calling it mine, shouldn't I? I try to make out what it says…
FOR RENT
You've got to be fucking kidding me. A sign, my mother would say. Your old appartment is for rent…maybe you should go take a look. But I've never really believed in signs. I squint my eyes and try to make out the number on the paper. Yeah. That's not working. I sigh in defeat. Later. There'll be time for this later. Right now I have to keep walking.
in blauwverlichte treinen (in blue lit trains)
je hart is zo dichtbij me (your heart is so close to me)
maar het klopt niet (but it doesn't beat)
We danced around each other for a year. Reaching out but never touching. We weren't exaclty oblivious, I guess, but to say we were fully aware of the other's feelings would be lying. We had a long conversation about it once. About what complete and utter morons we were for not acting on our feelings sooner. I thought you liked taking chances, Barnett? She had said. I gave her my trademark smirk and replied that yes, I did, but not in love. Because that little thing called love can do a lot more damage than skydiving. Trust me.
We danced and we moved around and we eventually had to give in to what was there. Destiny, my mother claimed, everything is meant to be. Sure, mom, whatever you want to believe.
het is al lang verleden tijd (it was a long time ago)
je zwarte haren en je lach (your black hair and your laugh)
dat je heel de wereld voor mij was (that you were the entire world to me)
I never thought of myself as one of those guys who falls in love and then spends the rest of his life comparing every girl he meets to that one girl who stole his heart. But I turned into one of those people in 2 seconds flat. There was a nurse at the hospital where I worked. Gorgeous girl. Legs that went on for miles, blonde hair, million dollar smile…They didn't have nurses like that at County. So, eventually month # two of being Ray the bloody brilliant pediatrician – did I mention it was very quiet there and the nurses had nothing better to do than make up idiotic nicknames? – came around and I decided to ask her out. It had been months since me and Neela, so I figured it was time to move on. Or at least try to move on, you know? Anyway, she said yes, tossed her hair – she did that a lot – and told me to call her. Very handy, considering I didn't have her number. Notice how I'd fallen back into ditz-mode rather quickly? Bret would've been proud.
We went on our date two days later. We went to this greek restaurant that another nurse had been raving about all week. We were lucky we didn't end up with food poisoning. Later, after that disasterous evening, she told me that I'd seemed distracted. I was. I was very distracted.
All night I waited anxiously for our orders to arrive, so that maybe we could talk about something other than the latest fasion and that new Natasha Bedingfield song – I tried to explain to her that I don't listen to that kind of music, but she seemed to have very selective hearing – like we did between courses. I think she mentioned something about me not being able to stop staring at her to the other nurses. It was true. I stared at her continuously through out that dinner.
Every second that I looked at her I worked towards the conclusion I found at the end of the evening. Neela would hate her. Which meant this would never work. If I could spend an entire evening going over all the way this woman was different from her, if I could go over all the things I would have talked about with Neela during this dinner, if I could predict everything she was going to say and hate it all…then this…this thing I was pretending to have come to terms with was not over. No matter how much I wished it was.
My nickname changed to Ray the Heartbreaker after that date. Now all the nurses seemed to want to start something with me. It was a very strange reaction. Eyelashes were batted left and right, brownies baked and pearly white teeth flashed like there was no tomorrow. And I didn't have the heart to tell them no to their faces. But they remained persistant. Poor girls. If only they knew that I needed her. I needed that soft hair and that cocky smile. And they couldn't give me that.
het zit nog veel te diep in mij (it is still far too deep in me)
dat ik mocht delen wat jij had (that I could share in what you had)
je door mijn haren ging en zei (you went through my hair and said)
Neela watched an astonishing amount of television. She taped things and watched them after shift. Nobody knew about this, it was her dirty little secret. Eventually it became our dirty little secret, as she started forcing me to watch with her on the days we worked the same hours. We'd spend the night on the couch, her my arms, following the characters of various shows. Okay, so she followed. I usually fell asleep. I wasn't very interested in the Camdens or those Gilmore Girls or who got burried alive in an episode directed by some famous person. But not her. She laughed and she let some tears fall too, every once in a while. I loved that side of her and encouraged this so un-Neela-like behaviour. Watching hours of TV in a row made her a lot more human to me, instead of the perfect, gorgeous angel she was before she was now…a perfect, gorgeous angel who watched a lot of television. I loved it.
Once I asked her why on earth this was a secret? She didn't want to be seen as a slacker, she said. I can honestly say I was shocked by that. A slacker? No, I told her. I was a slacker. Watching a little TV did not make you a slacker. Getting rid of patients as quickly as possible and in that way endangering their lives so you could get to your gig in time, THAT was slacking off. She smacked me and told me I was not a slacker. A little slacker-ish now and then was a description that fit me better. If only she could see me now.
I've reached the hospital. It's still the same. Big. Boring. I smile, I've missed this place so, so much. I enter the ER hesitantly, afraid of what I'll find. I was afraid for nothing.
Jerry still stands behind his counter. He's the first real sign of anything changing, you can see he's gotten older. But in regular Jerry fashion he grins at me. He shakes his head and says my name:
Ray Barnett
Abby comes in out of nowhere, screams in exitement and flings her arms around me.
I've come home.
R. E. V. I. E. W.review.R. E. V. I. E. W.