Disclaimer: I don't own ER or the characters…so please, take pity on me.


"Abby please, please don't tell Ray," Neela looked up at her friend with what she hoped was a beseeching look.

Pursing her lips Abby looked down at the laceration that she was almost finished suturing, "Neela…I'm not just about to tell Ray, I'm about to tell the police."

"You would not," her jaw dropped slightly.

"Oh, yes I would. Why? Let me think, maybe because in the past month you've 'accidentally' managed to run into a door, fall down the stairs, and what did you say happened this time?"

Scowling Neela looked away. Why couldn't anyone seem to understand?

"Neela will you please look at me?" Abby bent down until they were face to face, "Sweetie, just look at me."

With a glare she turned to face the older woman and listened as Abby continued, "It's time you quit pretending that everything is all right. He isn't getting any better, if anything he's getting worse. Let us help you."

Let us help you. Let us help you her ass. More like let us throw your husband in jail. She most certainly was not about to let that happen. She loved him…right?

As soon as she was finished Neela leapt to her feet, "Thanks," she mumbled.

"Neela?"

"What?" she snapped with frustration.

"Either you call the police or I will. You are my friend and I am not going to stand by and watch this happen."

No. No. No. "Abby don't, please?" she felt tears coming to her eyes, "Just give me a little more time, he really is starting to get better."

Abby looked at her friend and could swear that she felt her own heart breaking. Neela's dark hair hung loose around her face, shadowing the bruises. Even in the summer heat she wore long sleeves and she stood with more weight on the left foot. Abby knew that it was because her left hip was bruised from when she 'accidentally' tripped over the coffee table. The worse part about it was that her eyes had gone from confident to fearful and pleading. She was beginning to take on the kicked around look that Abby saw in other domestic abuse cases. She wasn't about to let this happen to her friend.

"If anything happens again then I really will go to the police, and nothing you say will stop me. I just…I…" she felt tears come to her eyes, oh for the love of God. Turning away for a minute she sucked in her breath then turned back with a grim look on her face, "You're my friend Neela, and I refuse to watch this happen to you."

She could feel his eyes on her, had Abby told? She wouldn't would she? Trying to avoid the piercing gaze she grabbed a chart and prepared to busy herself. She felt hands landing on her shoulders and flinched.

Silently Ray cursed himself, he should have known better than to touch her. Clearing his throat he put on a lopsided grin, "Haven't seen you in a while."

That could be because she had been carefully trying to steer clear of him, she could no longer stand the look that he gave her. Ever since he had treated her for a fractured wrist and near concussion he started acting very strange around her. Sort of like he was walking in a minefield yet at the same time he was overly…nice. She couldn't stand it. She wanted her roomie back…the arrogant, annoying Ray. The Ray who wasn't afraid of anything. The Ray who was sweet and caring when he chose to be. She needed her Ray back, she needed someone to lean on. But he was scared, she could feel it.

"I've been busy, yeah?"

"Yeah…so…how have you been?"

So Abby hadn't said anything, at least not yet. "Good, everything is fine really."

"That's good to hear," he looked uncomfortable. "So, you're sure everything is okay?"

"Positive," she tried smiling at him, "I've got to go, some of us actually work around here."

He watched her walk away and slammed his palm against the desk when he saw she was limping. Looking upward he tried to gather himself together. He wanted nothing more than to see Michael, he'd kill the bastard.

Abby leaned on the desk next to Ray, "Why is it I get the feeling you just talked to Neela?"

"I don't know could it be the obvious frustration? Or the anger maybe?" he let his head hit the edge of the desk. "I don't know what to do…"

"Neither do I. I know that we should inform the police, but Neela's so sure that she can help him."

Ray laughed, "Aren't they all? Isn't that what they all say?"

"You're right," rubbing her face tiredly she glanced over at Ray. He had changed in the past few weeks. There was no longer any amusement found on his face. He was also looking a little grungier than normal, he'd never exactly been clean shaven but this was bordering a homeless look. "Have you slept at all in the past week?"

"Not since I treated her. I keep thinking that one night I'll get a call…"

"I know I feel that way too. I don't know when the last time I slept was either. I don't want to have to wait for bad news."

"Me neither…"

Suddenly Abby made up her mind, "She was in again this morning."

"For?"

"Laceration on her right arm."

"Shit," his hands curled into fists.

"She wouldn't tell me what happened but I could guess. It looked like it was from broken glass."

Ray sucked in his breath and let it out slowly. He was going to kill her husband. How the hell could someone do that to a person they supposedly loved? And how the hell could she stay with him. He was angry at both of them. "Where is she?"

"Ray," Abby said warningly but he paid no attention.

"Neela, we need to talk," he snapped.

She looked up surprised, lowering her stethoscope she motioned towards the young boy. "I have a patient."

"I'm sure he'll be fine for just a minute."

"This is not fine," she lifted the boy's shirt, exposing a string of dark ugly bruises.

Raising his eyebrows in disbelief he almost started laughing, "Not fine? Really Neela? Not fine…that's funny really. Because I thought your views on that sort of thing was that it's perfectly fine."

Her mouth twitched into a frown and the boy began sniffling.

"I need to talk to you, now," he grabbed her arm and she instinctively jerked back. He dropped his hand immediately, "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," she mumbled, following him out.

"You said you needed to talk to me," stoically she focused on a spot near his head.

Ray closed his eyes focusing his thoughts; he hoped that maybe she would actually listen to him this time. "I want you to tell me the truth."

"About what?" she finally met his eye, she was confused…the truth about what?

"Do you love Michael?"

"I…well of course I do," indignant she straightened slightly; "He's my husband isn't he?"

Clearing his throat Ray went on, "Do you care about me at all?"

She blanched, "Do I what?"

He went on, "Do you care about Abby, about your friends?"

Trying to see what he was getting at she nodded in disbelief, "Of course I do."

Holding her gaze he gently laid a hand on her shoulder, she didn't flinch this time. "Do you care about yourself at all?" his voice was soft.

Bloody wanker, it seemed that Ray had finally cracked up. Of course she bloody cared about herself. Of course she cared about him. She probably cared about him more then she cared about anyone else. And Abby, she cared about her too. "I do care about myself, thank you very much," she snapped.

"Then prove it," he dropped his hand and walked away.

Watching as he retreated she let out an irritated sigh before returning to her patient.

Leaning down so that she was on his level she began to speak to him, "What exactly happened James?"

He shrugged, "I was riding my bike and fell."

"Are you sure that's the truth, I can't help you unless you tell me," she said gently.

"I'm sure," he answered without looking at her. Instead he focused on a point past her head.

Watching him she couldn't help but feel a sinking in her stomach. "James please, tell me the truth," she coaxed.

"I did."

Sighing she tried to fight back her tears but couldn't help as one escaped. She bit her lip to keep from crying, she could not cry in front of a patient. "Let me tell you a story," she took a deep breath trying to calm herself. "See this?" she rolled up her sleeve and he peered at the dark splotches that ran up her arm. "Someone that I know very well did this to me, someone that I trusted."

Jameslooked up, his eyes widening slightly. Hoping that maybe she had gotten through to him she tried again, "What really happened James?"

"Promise you won't tell?" he asked.

She groaned, "I can't promise that." When his face fell she went on, "I can't promise because I need to tell someone who can help you."

"My mommy told me not to tell anyone."

Neela suddenly felt angry, this poor kid. "You can tell me, it'll be all right."

"My daddy did it…he didn't mean to though, he never means to."

She stared at him for a moment then looked away.

"He didn't mean to, he never does."

"Neela, Michael knew exactly what he was doing."

"He was drunk, all right?"

"That isn't an excuse!"

Suddenly she realized just how frustrating this was for other people. It wasn't just her being affected by it. It was her friends as well.

Walking down the hall she stumbled back as she ran into someone, pain shot through her hip and she felt her leg give out. Cursing silently as she hit the floor she looked up to find Ray with a pained look on his face. Kneeling down next to her he began apologizing but she shook her head, "It was my fault, I wasn't paying attention."

"You okay?" he stood up and offered her a hand.

She took it, "I'm fine." Once she was on her feet she looked away, "Actually…actually I'm not fine." She was surprised; it actually felt good to have admitted it.

Ray looked at her in surprise, "Neela?"

She smiled weakly, "I admit it Dr. Barnett, a certain little patient of mine helped me realize it."

He pulled her into a hug and felt her relax into him. She had finally admitted it, now it was time for him to finally help her.


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