Disclaimer: I hope you know by now that I don't own this. Mmhmm. Yup. I do not own ER. Or Shane. Sad really. But that's okay. Just kidding!

A/N: Well, this chapter is kinda short. And I think the next one is even shorter. But I didn't want to combine them because, well… they're the last two chapters! Isn't it sad? But let us live in the present, not the future, and read this chapter. :D

"Hi, Ray." Ray turned his head quickly at the sound of the familiar voice. A voice he hadn't heard in years. Standing in the doorway was Michael Barnett. Narrowing his eyes, Ray asked darkly, "What are you doing here?" Ignoring his son's tone of voice, Michael replied, "I heard you had gotten hurt and I came to see if you were okay."

"Oh, so now you care," Ray scoffed. Sighing, Michael said, "Look, Ray. I'm really sorry things between us weren't so good—" "You're damn right," Ray nearly growled to his father. "But," Michael continued, "I thought maybe we could make things straight. Start over."

"I was four," Ray said, almost in a whisper. "And you left. I still loved you, and then I stopped caring. And then when mom—" Michael interrupted him, "Don't turn this into something about you're mother."

"But it is! It always is. You weren't there for her when she needed you most," Ray countered, his anger rising slightly. "You weren't there for me." Moving closer, Michael said to his son, "Ray, I am so sorry. If—"

"No. No, you're not. You just think that by saying that, it will make you feel better. You never used to care about me and you don't care now." "Ray, you know that's not true."

"Then why did you leave?" Ray asked, quieting considerably. Shaking his head, Ray continued sarcastically, "Well, you said you were sorry. Do you feel better now?" "Ray—" "Just leave," Ray almost spat, trying to hide the bit of moisture forming in his eyes. "Just—just leave."

Not wishing to further upset his son, Michael Barnett sighed, then simply turned and left. When his father was finally gone, Ray slipped into a flashback.

:Flashback:

Ray sat outside his father's house leaning against the wall. It was a few days after his mother's funeral. Tears slipped down his face. A few minutes later, his father came looking for him. "Ray?" Ray looked up briefly, but upon seeing who it was, he looked back down. "Come on, Ray," his father tried. "Let's go inside." Getting no response, Michael reached down to pick his son up. At his touch, Ray jerked away. "Don't touch me," Ray said, his words like venom.

"Ray, you can't just—"

"I can do whatever the hell I want." Michael sighed. "Ray—" "Your DNA may say that you're my father, but you know what? You're not," Ray said pointedly. Before his father could reply, however, Ray continued.

"You know, when you left, I thought it was my fault. I really did. Like I had done something wrong. And then I thought it was mom's fault, and I hated her for it. But then I realized there was only one person to blame. And that one person was you.

"When mom got sick, I didn't know what to think. You have no clue how hard it was on me. Being only 16 and having to take care of your dying mother. Driving her to the hospital for her chemo. They gave her two years. She barely made one. I was with her every day after school and on weekends when she was admitted to the hospital. And where were you?"

Ray stood to walk away, but Michael held him there. "Let me go," Ray said through gritted teeth. "No," his father said firmly, tightening his hold. "You are going to listen to me and listen to me well. First off, there were a lot of reasons why I left. Reasons you don't need to know. Second, there was no possible way for me to get to your mother. Besides, I didn't want to upset you by coming."

"Yeah right," Ray said as his father released his hold slightly.

"You blame me, Ray. You hate me. And do you want to know why? Because deep down inside, you think that it's your fault she died."

"Shut up," Ray said warningly.

"But you couldn't save her, Ray. There was no possible way. She's dead, Ray. She's dead."

"Shut up!" Ray shouted hysterically, attempting to hit his father. "Just shut up!" Michael Barnett grabbed his son's wrists as Ray flailed against him. Ray began sobbing as his father pulled him into a deep, sincere hug. Ray leaned on his father, sobbing into his shoulder.

:Flashback:

When Neela visited Ray a couple hours later, he was sleeping once again. Neela was not surprised by this. She sat there with him until he began to stir. "Hey. How are you feeling?" "Fine," Ray answered. "I, uh, I heard your dad visited," Neela said after a bit. Ray had never spoken about his family before and she wasn't sure how he would react.

"Yeah," Ray replied quietly. "He—he didn't stay long." Slightly puzzled about his tone of voice, Neela asked, "Why not?"

"He just didn't," Ray answered plainly. "Was something wrong?" Neela continued out of concern "God, Neela," Ray burst out, "will you just drop it? You don't need to know every aspect of my life!"

Shocked that he had raised his voice at her, Neela simply stammered, "I—I'm sorry, Ray. I just—" "Forget it, Neela, alright?" Ray scoffed, turning away from her.

Blinking, Neela merely stared at him for a few seconds before quietly standing and leaving the room.

A/N: And there you have it. Chapter 5. Please review, because I seem to be suffering from review withdrawal!