Standard disclaimer: All characters and material related to the ER belong to well, I'm guessing here, NBC, various production companies, the writers and all others associated with it. I'm sure they don't belong to me and I won't be making any $.
A/N—Wow! What a supportive community this is—I posted my first fiction ever and have a half dozen reviews in a day! Thanks so much! On with the story:
Ray was exhausted by the time he had returned to his new room. He did not have enough arm strength yet for the chair. He wasn't terrifically good at maneuvering it, either. It wasn't a skill he was particularly anxious to acquire. His legs were both throbbing, but he wanted to hold off on the meds until he was ready for bed. He called his Mom, to let her know he was all settled in. She still wasn't thrilled by the change in plans. He faithfully promised he would supply regular updates. After the call he was somewhat ashamed to realize he was going to need assistance getting into bed; he had gone beyond his limits today. He'd be busy tomorrow, too, but he'd think about that tomorrow. Soon after taking his pain meds, he was sound asleep.
The next day was a full one. He met his rehabilitation team—O.T., P.T., psychologist and caseworker. He didn't know any of them—it reminded him of how little he had ever thought about the aftermath of trauma working in the ER. He tried not to think too far into the future. Ordinarily, that was no problem for him. He'd never been a guy for long term plans. Clearly, his accident had affected more than his body. He was feeling anxious. He was aware that he was worrying about Neela as a kind of background noise in his head during all the consults this morning. He had a pretty good picture of what his therapy schedule would be for the next few weeks. He knew he should try to get in touch with Gates and work out some kind of schedule for visits. He wasn't sure how to approach the problem, though. He didn't have an official status with Neela. He hadn't parted on the best of terms with Gates. He recalled saying something unforgivable about Meg; he'd been pretty drunk by that point. He was glad to have a reprieve from starting that conversation when he had to deal with his luggage, which finally had caught up with him. Then he got a call from the insurance agency for the trucking company. It sounded like a generous offer, but he didn't commit himself. He knew the smart thing to do was to have a lawyer advise him. He mentally put that on tomorrow's to do list.
He decided to just take his chances and go to Neela's room. No one was visiting. He wheeled himself in. He checked on the monitors; her vitals were all good. He backtracked to the foot of her bed and looked over the chart. What he saw was really good news, in that she'd been holding remarkably steady since he'd left last night. He put the chart back and wheeled himself close to her. He threaded his hand through the bed so that he could clasp hers.
"Hi, uh, Neela. It's Ray. You're doing really good. You just hang in there. Keep up the good work. Listen, Neela, I'm sorry, OK? I'm sorry I was harsh when you came to the hospital. I can't stand talking about feelings, Neela. But I love you. I said I fell in love with you, like it was all past tense, but I still love you. So, please, if you can hear me, come back soon, please, Neela."
He knew she hadn't heard a word, but he felt better for having said them. And he was really glad he'd said the words when he realized Tony Gates was coming down the hall. Ray recalled that Neela had told him in the hospital that it was over with Tony. But, he knew Tony had treated her at the rally and brought her to the ER. He knew Neela's visitor list had read family and Tony Gates. He also knew, of course, what the nature of their relationship had been. He couldn't believe it was completely casual on Neela's side, at least. But he figured they could all sort all this stuff out later; right now, the only thing that mattered was Neela getting well. She could use all the support she could get right now, so he said "Hello, Tony."
"Ray Barnett. I thought you were in Baton Rogue."
"I was." He took a deep breath. "Look, Tony, I'd like to apologize…"
"For what? For how pathetic you are? What do you think is here for you, man?"
Ray wasn't sure how he found his self-control. He was furious, but he knew Dubenko would pull his visiting privileges, maybe pull both their visiting privileges if there was a scene. He hadn't traveled back, or changed all his plans, to wait outside this room. Especially now when he felt that the only thing he had left that he valued at all was here in this room. "My friend is here. And I want to help."
"You? Here to help?" Tony's contemptuous gaze swept over him. Ray was painfully aware of what he looked like, sitting in a wheelchair with no legs and his face half-scraped off. "Look, Tony, Dr. Dubenko said one visitor at a time, so I'll just go now and leave you." He wheeled around and out the door with as much dignity as he could muster to the sound of Tony's fond farewell: "You do that, Barnett. Leave. Get the hell out."
Tony was completely shocked to see Barnett here. He looked down at Neela and wondered just what kind of visit she'd had with him before her accident. She had clearly told him that they were done, and then she went running off to Mercy after some phone call, but ended up at the peace rally by herself while he'd heard that Barnett was headed to Baton Rogue after some unspecified accident of his own. It was quite shocking to see him; he was literally half the man he used to be and that had never been much, in Tony's estimation. The guy had lived with Neela, how long? He was obviously in love with her and yet clearly he had never gotten the obvious benefits such a living arrangement offered. 'Friend' he'd called himself. Pathetic. Of course, Tony wasn't sure of his own status at the moment. Ex, most likely, but he couldn't accept that before. Now, well, it was hard to predict what shape Neela would be in.
Ray was grateful that he didn't bump into Tony over the next few days. He did meet the Rasgotras. They were a little distant with him at first. He knew they'd found the roommate thing suspicious; why should they be different from most folks at the hospital, after all? But they had warmed up to him after he spent some time explaining about the induced coma Neela was in. Ray had been doing a lot of reading on head injuries—more than on amputation and prosthetics, if he was honest. He'd also gotten them some help finding a decent place to stay near County. They'd fallen into a routine where Ray came to sit with Neela in the early afternoon so the Rasgotras could get something to eat.
About three days in, Neela's vitals started dropping. Her breathing was labored and she was retaining way too much fluid. When they started to get that straightened out, she started throwing odd heart rhythms. Ray was glad he felt he needed to put up a good front for her parents, because he was truly terrified. But they seemed to get the right balance of medications again, and her vitals stabilized. By the end of the first week, Neela's facial swelling was receding. The bruising was spreading out but fading so that she looked, more and more like herself.