Seriously, damnit. Not mine. I never tried to say they were.

II.4. A 911 Page From Abby

"My pager is on vibrate, Neela." This caused them to both smile, until he looked down at the page. "It's, uhh, a 911 page from the ER." He looked back up at the woman who had just been in his lap.

"What are you looking at me for? Go answer it!" He went over to the table where he'd left his cell phone. She walked in the opposite direction, to her room.

Gee, could you make it more obvious that you are completely in love with her than not answering a 911 page?

"County Gener—" Ray didn't let him finish his greeting.

"Hi, Frank, I got a 911 page…" Ray leaned his back against the wall.

"Hang on." He could hear Frank yelling for Abby before she picked up.

"Ray."

"Yeah. That's me."

"Is Neela there?"

"Yeah you wanna talk to—"

"No!" she cut him off. "Is she in hearing distance?"

"No, she just went to her room, what are you trying to say Abby?"

"There are…there are two men from the army here…"

"She already knows Abby."

"Why the hell are they here then?"

"I don't know, why don't you try asking them?" He looked up and saw Neela had come back out of her room, this time wearing a clean shirt and lounge pants.

"Ray, is that Abby?" Neela grabbed the phone, knowing the answer was yes.

"Abby, hi. This is Neela," she started, as if her friend wouldn't recognize her voice. "Those two men are there to see Pratt. I didn't want to be the one to tell him, so I asked if they would talk to him."

"Oh."

"Did you ask them why they were there before giving Ray a 911 page?"

"Well, no, I was worried and just didn't think there'd be any other reason..."

"Uh huh."

"Why does it bother you so much?"

"He's off." He had never heard Neela be so short with Abby.

Of course she's a bit testy, Ray, think about the situation!

"I was worried about you, Neela."

"I'm fine."

"I know that's not true, but I won't press the issue now."

It wasn't until then that he noticed how close she had come to him. She leaned on his shoulder as she had so often in the past. Spacing out, he ignored the rest of the conversation between the two women.

"Alright, see you later Abby." Neela stood up straight.

"Oh, wait! Can I talk to Ray for a sec?"

"Sure," she handed the phone to Ray. "Wants to talk to you." Ray took back his phone.

"Do you have a minute?"

"I guess." Neela lay her head on his shoulder again, and he wrapped his arm around her back, pulling her closer.

"It'll be short, I just don't want to forget to tell you. It's a long shot, but do you remember two girls we treated last year? Samantha and Dina."

"Uhhh," he racked his brain, the names did sound familiar, but he couldn't place them.

"Samantha was 7 years old, came in for stitches; Dina had been in a few weeks earlier, for a," she paused to flip through the chart she was holding, "a broken arm and suspicion of abuse."

"Ohhh, yeah, the mother was a drug addict."

"That's the one."

"Social services just came in requesting the charts of these two girls, for the final steps," she sounded excited.

"What?"

"They're going to court to be officially adopted next week."

"That's great!"

"They got to stay together. It's all worked out for them really well. I can tell you more later, if you want, but I know their cases stuck with you, so I thought I'd let you know."

"I appreciate it."

"Ok, see you later."

"Yeah, later." Ray hung up the phone.

"Ray," she looked up at him, "you look like you were in a trauma without a gown, you should probably change your clothes." He glanced down at his shirt, then turned his attention to Neela, staring intently into her eyes.

"I was in a trauma without a gown."

"That wasn't a trauma, Ray, that was me being stupid." She sounded embarrassed.

"I won't disagree with the second half of that," playful wouldn't be the word to describe his voice, but she could tell it wasn't meant as either a joke or an insult. "But it was traumatic for me, so I'm going to call it a trauma." His voice was very soft. Returning to normal volume, "But that is a good idea. I am going to go shower and put clean clothes on."

"I should, probably, uhh, clean up in there first."

"Who's blood is all over my clothes, Neela? I can take care of it." The word 'blood' sounded harsh as he spoke, and it tasted bitter. Keep your cool, Ray.

"Yeah. Right." She hesitated. "Do you want me to rinse them out?"

"Nah, I'll just let them soak while I'm in the shower." He shut the bathroom door.

Neela walked back over to the couch, pausing to make sure she hadn't gotten anything on it when she was sitting there a few hours ago. Seeing it looked all clean she threw herself onto the couch. Everything came flooding back to her.

Soldiers…Michael…dead…blood…tears…Ray…

She closed her eyes hoping that it would all just go away.

Ray got out of the shower, and saw Neela tossing and turning on the couch. He started to walk over to her. Clothes, Ray. Put some clothes on first. He shook his head a little bit. I must be more tired than I thought I was. Once clothed, he walked over to the couch, and whispered her name, not sure if she was trying to get comfortable, or tossing in her sleep.

"I can't get comfortable."

---End Part II---