Title: Onderweg (3 of 4)
Author: Lven
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: Another verse, another bad translation. This is my fav verse though.

Chapter 3


je kent mijn stem niet (you don't know my voice)
wie ik ben is wat je nu ziet (who I am is what you see now)
wil je dansen met illusies? (do you want to dance with illusions?)

Once, on her birthday, I sang for her. Now I'm going to be honest with you and say that I never sang for one woman specifically before. Sure I'd focused on a girl our two when I had a gig, but that was mostly for woo-ing purposes. She had been woo-ed by my amazing doctor skills, at least that's what I've always hoped.
Still, I sang for her with all my heart. It was a bit of an improvisation. In all honesty I can't even tell you what the words were. But she liked it. Oh, how she liked it. She never once claimed I was unromantic after that. I swear I heard Sam ask Luka why he never sang for her. She obviously had never heard him sing.
I, on the other hand, was the nurses' sweetheart for a week.
I must have written a billion songs about her. Okay, maybe it were only 7. 3 before and 4 after. Each and every one of them I wrote with my heart. Each and every one of them I meant. She's never seen them.
They were really good songs too. Maybe a bit melodramatic. Or in Bret's words: Way too girly.
Abby wants to know what I'm doing here and rips me from my thoughts. I give her my cheekest grin but I know my eyes aren't cooperating. Her smile fades. I know what she's going to say and she does:

Oh, Ray.
Oh, Ray.
Fuck this.
hat am I doing here?

I look away and swiftly change the subject. How is everyone? I'm actually genuinly interested. At this point Abby starts blabbing away.

Pratt. Still a bit grouchy, but he's gotten soft. Heh.
Morris. Morris and Jane? Did they lose a bet or something?
Susan. Susan left last year. She moved to Maryland. Oh.
Luka. He's still Luka.
And Sam…

Sam comes waggling in. Literally. She's pregnant. She hugs me and starts crying. Hormones, she says. Well, obviously. She tells me she's having a girl and I can't help but smile. It's nice to see someone happy like this. And then, like she's reading my mind her teary smile falters.

Neela isn't here.
Who says I was looking for her?
Don't lie.
Fine.

Jerry hands me a note. Her address.
Go see her, he says. So I go.

in gedachten (in thoughts)
ben je verder dan het heden (you are further then the present)

I never really planned anything other than a gig or two. But one night I found myself lying next to her and I saw it all. Like one of those timelines they make you memorize in history class. I saw my proposal. I saw our wedding. Heh, I definitely saw our wedding night. And I saw the kids. A boy and a girl. A perfect little girl. Just like her. I saw us growing old together. I saw every little detail.
I was an idiot wasn't I? You're not supposed to think things like that about a girl you've only known you loved for 2 weeks. Or maybe that's how you know you love her.

I leave the ER, though not after assuring Abby that I'll ccome by again tomorrow. Neela's appartment isn't far away. Another distance I can easily walk, it doesn't matter, I've been walking all day.
The streets are still empty, as if the people are waiting for me and my misery to leave before it's safe to go outside. I wonder what she looks like now. Is her hair longer? Does she still wear the necklace I bought her for Christmas sometimes? I wonder if she still acts the same. If she still yells at everyone after she's had a bad day, or if she still takes 30-minute showers. I hope she hasn't changed. I doubt I could deal.

wil je terug naar je verleden? (do you want to go back to your past?)
zegt je dat iets? (does that say anything to you?)

I wonder if her leaving me was something she'd been planning. If somewhere in the back of her mind she was thinking:

'Hmmm. That Ray, he's cute and all, but maybe it's time for me to move on. I'll go pick someone who's not a wannabe rockstar. Oh, lets not forget to write him a note.'

I'm pretty sure she was not thinking that though. My Neela's not like that…but hey, what do I know right? For all I know she was leading a double life. Beyond the late-night TV. For all I know she was an exotic dancer or maybe she ran a I Love Lucy website or something. I wasn't around her 24/7, I don't know what she did when I was away.

And I'm not supposed to care. So I'm going to pretend I don't. My friends will all tell you I'm not a very good liar.

het is al lang verleden tijd (it was a long time ago)
rode wijn op het terras (red wine on the terrace)
dat je heel de wereld voor mij was (that you were the entire world to me)

Drunk Neela was a rarity. I must have taken her to at least a dozen parties. She usually sat there sober, yet having a good time. She loved hanging around with Molly, who often came along when she could find someone to babysit Janis. Molly's never been much of a drinker either.
But the two of them drunk? Oh, I'll never forget that. This only happened twice though. Both times they ended hilariously.

Dancing on tables.
Singing Lady Marmelade.
Killer Cocktails.
Great sex.

Yes, drunk Neela was definitely a good thing.
But sober Neela was even more fun at times. Sober Neela was my Neela. Sarcastic, cynical, dr. Rasgotra Neela. The one who insulted every girl who came near me. The one who cared.

I'm get nostalgic again.

het zit nog veel te diep in mij (it is still far too deep in me)
dat ik vergat hoe jij me zag (that I forgot how you saw me)
dat ik zo anders ben dan jij (that I'm so different than you)

She thought she was going to regret moving in with me. She was. Come on, if you really think about it I wasn't exactly the best match. Not that I'm ever regretting that I did ask her. I would probably have never known what love is if it wasn't for her. But then again, I could have spared myself a lot of grief.
Her building looks amazing. Even from the outside. Compared to this big shiny thing our old building was an african village. The inside is the same. Modern. Shiny. Clean. Very Neela. She lives at number 23A. I decide to take the stairs. This walking thing is beginning to be very relaxing. I get to her door and stare at it for a minute or two. I close my eyes and ring the doorbell.

The door opens and…oh God…she's still gorgeous.
Messy hair.
Mouth wide open.
Not a spat of make-up.
Gorgeous.

Preview for Chapter 4:

Suddenly I burst.

HOW COULD YOU?

She was scared.
Oh, she was scared.

So I ask her the most obvious question. Why the fuck didn't she bother to tell me?

Because she saw me.
With who?
That blonde girl. Oh, way to be cryptic Neela.

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