A/N. Thanks for the reviews guys, glad you all like it! Anyhow, here's the next installment.
Liz.
She was well into her shift when a guy involved in car accident was rushed into the ER. She was called into Trauma 1 for a complicated chest intubation.
Ray was leading, calling out instructions, Neela was struggling a little, she just didn't have enough hands and the nurses were all engaged in monitoring the equipment and making sure the guy was still breathing. Ray paused for a moment, aware of Neela's difficulty but unsure as to whether his assistance would be appreciated.
"Ray I need a little help here, could you just…" she made a move to grab his hand to guide it to where she needed pressure applying.
His hand flew back as though he'd been shot. Looking straight into her face, with eyes like thunder, he growled
"Jesus, Neela, I know what to do, I'm not some first year intern, you know!"
"Well get on and do it then, Dr Barnett" snapped Neela.
The first year intern crack had been a pop at her and Gates, she knew that and it had stung, like he'd meant it to, but what had really shocked her was the way he recoiled when she had gone to touch him.
The rest of the procedure was done on autopilot, barking instructions, hands moving by their own volition, working to block out the rage and confusion that was bubbling away inside her.
"Well if you don't need me anymore, I'll just go… check on my other patients" Ray said, ripping off his latex gloves and dropping them in the disposal unit.
"Yeah, sure, we're fine here" said Neela, her voice blank, not betraying the boiling inside.
With one hand, Ray slammed open the door to the trauma room. There goes his back, again, thought Neela. It's all I ever see of him these days. He stopped, half in, half out of the room and turned back to face her.
"That was nice work, Neela" and his mouth twitched slightly at the corners, almost a smile.
She raised her eyes to look at him, half expecting him to have already gone, but no, he was still there, looking at her quizzically. She shot a thin, weak smile at him but realised this was hidden behind her surgical mask, settled for a "thank you" instead.
She was hoping for his once common phrase "anything for my roomie…" but that was way too much to ask. His lips twitched up just a fraction more as they looked at each other.
"Welcome" he said, softly with a questioning tilt of his head to one side, then turned and walked on through the door.
Neela breathed out loudly behind her mask. The patient was gone and she just had a few moments to clean up. That was the first time in how many months that they'd looked at each other, let alone said something pleasant.
My God, she thought, how did it come to this?
"What did you expect?" Chuny blurted out. "The whole ER knows the poor boy has been in love with you for just about forever. He's been like a wounded animal these past few months, trying to let you grieve, but trying to be there for you and you start acting like Little Miss Popsicle to him and then throw Gates in his face. We're counting ourselves lucky that he's professional enough to stay here until they can find a replacement for him or we'd be really stuck." Chuny's attitude was cold.
Neela yanked the mask roughly from over her mouth. "What?" she said.
"Yeah, he's put in a transfer request, didn't you know?"
"Where, where to?" Neela stammered, looking down at the floor.
"Anywhere, I think." Chuny replied, "Anywhere but here. Look," she softened, "we've all lost people we love, it goes with the job and we've all had our hearts broken, but honey, you've been wearing your pain like one of Michael's medals. Do you want to be his widow for ever?"
And with that she left the trauma room, leaving a disconsolate Neela alone with her thoughts.