We know that it's been a minute since we updated this, and we hope that you'll forgive us for that. Life tends to intrude at the most inopportune times. Please let us know what you think. We eagerly await your comments...lol. As always...

We are yours,

butterflyswest and Erin Allen

5

Neela was dozing with her head resting on the edge of his bed when they arrived. It had been two days since she'd called Brett, and she hadn't heard from him since. She raised her head at the sound of the door opening and could only stare at them in mingled relief and shock.

They filed in quietly, not how she remembered them to be. Before, the entire floor of their apartment building would be alerted to their presence by the sound of loud ribbing and rock music. This subdued group was not what she had expected, but she didn't care. They were here. Every one of them, and she didn't think that she had ever been happier to see anyone. Brett looked at her, and she felt tears well in her eyes as she rose from her place.

"You're here," she said simply. "If I had known I would have…"

"We have it all under control, Doc," he said quietly. He narrowed his eyes on her. "You look wrecked."

She smiled through her tears.

"And you look wonderful," she said with a tremor in her voice. She crossed the room to give him a hug. "Thank you for coming."

"I had to," he said as he released her. He glanced at the bed and winced, his throat working. "How is he?"

"No change," she whispered. "I've been hoping…"

She trailed off, unsure of what to say. She didn't want to tell him that her hopes were resting with him. She didn't want to put into words the fear that had been building in her as the days passed without change. If she put those things into words, then she was afraid that she would give in to them. She would just fall apart, fade away to nothing.

He glanced down at her, and by the look in his eyes; he knew what she was thinking. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he stepped away from her with a nod. The rest of the band wandered toward the bed behind him, each one pausing to give her a hug or a greeting. She swallowed hard, her tears so close as to be impossible to hold back. With her hand over her mouth, she turned and left the room, not only to give them privacy, but also to gather herself together.

She leaned against the wall outside the room and slid down until she was huddled on the floor. Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes; fighting off the sob she felt building in her throat. She suddenly didn't care that the nurses saw her, or the doctors. She was hurting too badly to care anymore. She and Brett had always had their differences, but she could be nothing but grateful to him now. He'd come back to Chicago for Ray, and for her. She clenched her eyes shut at the sound of strained laughter in the room. Hot tears blazed a trail down her cheeks to fall on her shirt.

"Neela?"

She raised her head to find Brett standing there.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded and rose to her feet.

"I'm just tired," she said, swiping at her eyes. "I haven't gotten much sleep."

"It looks like you haven't gotten any sleep," he said dryly. "Where have you been sleeping?"

"Here. In a chair by the bed or on the sofa."

He gave her a sharp look and seemed about to say something, but he stopped himself. "I want to know exactly what happened, Neela."

She sighed and ran her hands through her hair. Indicating one of the chairs in the hall, she sat and waited until he settled next to her before she started speaking. She told him everything. From the moment she'd moved out to the shootout in the ER. She told him how Ray had saved Abby's life and that of her child with his actions. She was weeping freely by the time she finished, her knees drawn up to her chest. Her vow not to cry was forgotten in the telling. He said nothing for a long moment, his eyes on his hands as they clenched in his knees. Finally, he sat back to rest his head against the wall.

"Jesus Christ, Neela," he said softly. "Do the doctors…" He swallowed and closed his eyes. "What are his chances of…"

She shook her head, still refusing to say the words that would shatter all hope. His face twisted into a grimace and he closed his eyes.

"Fuck," he whispered. He opened his eyes to look at her. "You've been here all this time?"

"Yes. I can't leave him."

"Why?" he asked almost harshly. "You did it once."

She stiffened, setting her feet on the floor. Anger and guilt burned her blood at his accusing glare.

"And you have room to talk?" she asked harshly. "My reasons for leaving are entirely my own."

"Sure they are," he said sarcastically. "That husband of yours was in Iraq. Ray was there for you when no one else was. The least you could have done…"

"Don't you dare judge me!" she cried, jumping to her feet. "You bastards kicked him out of the band and took off to California. Don't you dare lecture me…"

"It's a statement of fact," he shot back heatedly. "We did what was best for him and us. He has a friggin medical degree. He should damn well use it instead of living hand to mouth like we do most of the time. The fact is we thought that you'd take care of him when we left. We knew how he felt about you."

"You knew how…" She trailed off, shock boiling away her irritation. She sank back into her seat, her knees suddenly too weak to support her.

"We knew. It was obvious to anyone with half a brain." He grinned and glanced at the room. "Between the four of us, we have that much."

She threw up her hands in exasperation.

"Did everyone know but me?" she asked, irritated.

"Pretty much," he said, cocking one foot on the edge of the chair. "Why? Does that shock you? That he has feelings for you?"

She bit her lip and shook her head. She had known. She'd seen it in his eyes every time he'd looked at her.

"I knew," she admitted softly as she sank back into the seat.

He glared at her. "You knew,and you still left him." He held up a hand when she was about to speak. "I know, your own reasons. What I want to know is, will you stick with him now? You're not gonna tuck tail and run once he wakes up."

She turned quickly to look into his angry features.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Are you going to leave him once he wakes up?" Brett asked slowly, deliberately. "Because if you are, it would be best if you just left now, before he wakes up. You already screwed with his head once, I don't want to see you do it again."

Neela clenched her fists on her knees.

"You don't have any right…"

"I have every right," he hissed. "Who do you think he called when you left? Who do you think listened to him when he'd get drunk and needed to spout off? You hurt him, girl. Tore his heart out. I don't want that to happen again. Because if it is, it would be best if he never knew you were here."

Neela could only stare at him incredulously. It was a bloody test. To see if she was worthy of his friend. On the one hand, it pissed her off to no end to be questioned like a bloody criminal. On the other, it warmed her greatly to know that Ray had friends like this. Friends that would stand by him even though they lived thousands of miles apart. She wondered what she would do in his situation. Would she do all in her power to see that her friend wasn't hurt?

"I'm not going anywhere," she said quietly, sincerely. "I…I love him too much to leave."

He grinned suddenly and hopped to his feet.

"That's all I wanted to know," he said brightly, his mood abruptly changing directions. "It's about time you admitted it."

She scowled at him. "I suppose you knew that as well."

"I was always hoping you'd give it up and realize what a great guy I am, but yeah." He shrugged. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

She blew out a breath and rose to her feet.

"I really hate you sometimes," she said tiredly.

"No, you don't," he shot back as he stood beside her. "You secretly love me. Now, let's go see if we can get lazybones awake."

He turned back toward the room without waiting for a response. Neela followed more slowly, feeling as if she'd just come out of an interrogation. More tears filled her eyes as she thought of his words. She wanted to believe them so badly. She needed to believe them.

Opening the door, she stepped inside, praying all the while that they would.

000000

Neela leaned her head against the seat back and sighed. She was tired; exhausted all the way to her core. She wasn't sure how she'd gotten through the past few hours. The boys had stayed long past the time that visiting hours were usually over. The staff had not asked them to leave. Whether it was out of fear of Neela's wrath, or the fact that they believed that Ray was beyond hope, she didn't know and didn't care. They'd let them stay, and that was what mattered.

Not that it had made a difference. Ray had not responded. Not to Brett's or any other voice. He hadn't stirred when Matt had gone down to fetch his guitar and play for him. He hadn't so much as twitched an eyelid when they had informed him of their impending concert schedule. There had been nothing.

She rubbed her eyes and pulled closer the blanket that she had wrapped herself in. Her gaze came to rest on his face, and hot tears pricked her eyes.

"Oh, God, Michael," she whispered softly, not caring if she sounded completely insane. "I'm trying. I'm trying so hard, but I don't know what else to do." She leaned forward to rest her arms on the edge of the bed. Her fingers brushed against his hand as she buried her face in the hollow of her arms. "What else can I do? I've tried everything I can to wake him up, to make him want to come back. Help me. Please."

As darkness crept into her vision, and her breathing slowed, she thought she felt a hand brush across her hair. She smiled softly in her sleep, relishing the warmth of that touch.

000000

"What the hell are you doing?"

Ray snapped his head around at the sound of that voice. He'd been floating in a sea of darkness, adrift in a nothingness that was oddly peaceful. It had been so long since he'd heard anything, seen anything, that the unexpected voice was like cold water splashed in his face.

With shock, he stared around himself. The hallway he stood in was painted a deep shade of red. Mirrors hung on the walls reflecting his image back at him a hundred times over. He saw a figure behind him and turned to find Michael Gallant standing there. He was still wearing the button down shirt that he'd been wearing on their last meeting. The hard, angry set of his jaw was enough to bring Ray's temper to the fore.

"I was trying to sleep," he said sharply.

"You've been sleeping long enough," Gallant said harshly. "Did you forget everything I told you? Everything you promised?"

Ray shook his head. There were some things that he could never forget. He may forget where he put his keys every day, but he would always remember what he'd been told. That Neela needed him.

"I'm still alive." He glanced around in confusion. "Unless this is some sort of hell."

"This is nothing more than a dream, Barnett. What I want to know is why aren't you doing what you promised. You said you'd take care of her."

Ray frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Gallant sighed heavily and moved past him to look in the closest mirror. Ray followed his gaze and sucked in a breath as the surface of the mirror shimmered. The scene shifted from his image to that of a hospital room. He was lying on the bed, looking as if he'd seen better days. It wasn't his appearance that caught him around the heart. It was the person sitting in a chair next to the bed, her head in her arms on the blanket. Her dark hair was spread across the blanket as she slept. She's going to have a cramp in her neck from sleeping like that, he thought. Then the absurdity of his thought hit him and he turned back to Gallant.

"Why are you showing me this?" he asked.

Gallant gave him a gimlet stare.

"Think, Barnett. Try and remember where you've been."

"I haven't been anywhere…"

"Except asleep for three weeks."

The breath slammed from Ray's lungs. Three weeks. That wasn't possible. But he could see by the look in Gallant's eyes that it was. He turned back to the image in the mirror and shook his head.

"Has she…?" He couldn't bring himself to ask any more. He had all the proof he needed right in front of him. Suddenly, from the dark waters of his memory, voices rose up to speak, whispering but growing louder. Neela, reading some asinine article, Abby, even Brett. Ray ran a hand over his face.

"Jesus." Gallant was right. She'd been with him all along. His heart clenched at the thought. She'd been waiting for him to come back to her, and he'd been lingering…here—wherever here was, because he hadn't believed that he had anything to come back to. He'd been wrong.

"She's losing hope, Barnett. You've been 'resting' for damn near a month. She needs you."

Ray glanced at him narrowly.

"Why do you care? What stake do you have in this? You're dead."

"Yet another excellent observation," Gallant said dryly. "I care because I love her. I want to see her happy. You can make her happy. She loves you, man, and I know you love her." He paused and sighed heavily. "I want her to live her life. Get married again, have babies. You can do that for her."

Ray glanced away, not knowing what to say to that. How did one argue with a ghost? He laughed suddenly. This would go down in the history books. Ray Barnett was talking to a ghost. That was, if they didn't put him in the nut house first.

"I love her," he said. "I don't know how it happened, but I do." He gave the man a sheepish look. "I didn't mean for it to happen, but I don't regret it."

Gallant nodded.

"That's why I know you'll do this. She's ready, Barnett. You have to wake up to take care of her. She needs you now."

Ray looked back at the mirror, but the image of Neela was gone, replaced by his own reflection.

"Are you sure that she'll…"

"I'm sure," Gallant said. "She already knows what I wanted. I told her everything I wanted for her in the videotape I made for her."

Ray frowned. "What tape?"

Gallant shook his head. "You're missing the point, Ray," he said almost gently. "I want her to move on. Swear to me you'll love her like she deserves. Promise that you'll do everything you can to make sure she is taken care of."

Ray stared at him, his heart beating in his ears. As if he would do anything else. It gave him pause to see the sadness in Gallant's eyes, to hear it in his voice. He had died before he'd gotten half a chance to do the things he was asking Ray to do.

"I promise you that I'll take care of her," he said quietly. "I love her, man. I won't hurt her."

Gallant blew out a breath and dropped his eyes for a long moment. When he looked back at Ray, there was nothing in them but peace.

"Then it's time to wake up, Barnett."

Ray opened his mouth to speak, but the hallway began to spin, dragging him down into darkness. Gallant spoke again, and the words followed Ray down as he fell.

Take care of her.