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 $.

Today was twenty-five days after her accident. Today was the day Ray Barnett began to seriously worry that Neela might never wake up. Yesterday morning, when there'd been no sign that she was coming to, he'd talked to Lucien. He'd begged him, really, to discuss a hypothetical patient with a head injury. Without speaking about Neela in particular, Lucien had made clear to Ray that there was no standard timetable that fit everybody. But yesterday afternoon, Ray had seen the Hospital social worker talking to the Rasgotras and when the conversation was over, Mrs. Rasgotra was crying. He'd worried all night, which wasn't like him and he wasn't good at it. He began to realize that Neela alive wasn't enough. He needed Neela back. So, when he came to sit with her today he brought his guitar. He was pretty sure if he had to think of cheerful things to say he would crack. He was in a near panic of despair at the thought of months or years of this limbo. He took the guitar out the case and rested it across his thighs. It was awkward with the wheelchair, but he managed.

"Good afternoon, Neela. It's Ray. Do you mind if I play a little music?" He paused a minute for a response, although he didn't expect one. He was really getting the hang of conversing with her in her present state. Sometimes he wondered if he'd remember how to carry on a normal conversation when she regained consciousness. He was always careful to use when in that phrase, even when he said it in his head.

"I'll apologize in advance for how bad I'm going to suck. I haven't had time to practice. Physical therapy is going well. The Pain Clinic appointments are helping, too." He started to aimlessly strum and pick a few notes. He realized his instrument was badly out of tune. He didn't have a tuning fork in the case, so he just tuned it to itself. He tried to recall which songs from his repertoire Neela liked. He couldn't think, so he fell back on playing some of the first songs he ever learned to play: gospel and folk songs. He started with Amazing Grace and continued with How Can I Keep from Singing? His favorite part about church had been the music. Playing old gospel songs did soothe him somewhat, but appeared to have no effect on Neela. He tried to think of English folk songs, vaguely hoping Neela had learned them a long time ago, too, and that they might stir a memory. He chided himself. 'Next I'll want to try waking her with a kiss, like Prince Charming.' He glanced at her beautiful face and was tempted. But, it seemed a violation since she couldn't consent and he resisted the impulse. He remembered that kiss in the car and all it had seemed to promise. It was a promise she hadn't kept, of course. She went back to Gates. He pushed that thought away. It wasn't important; right now, the only important thing was that she wake up and be okay. He needed Neela alive and in the world. He wasn't sure why but he started to play Flow Gently, Sweet Afton and he started to sing softly, too, to stop thinking. He grinned sardonically when he got to the part about asking the river not to disturb the sleeping lover's dreams.

Neela was dreaming. She felt like she was floating, but she could look down at herself and see that although she was near a stream, she was not in the water. She was lying on a large blanket on the bank. The remains of a picnic lunch were spread out around her. A man approached. She could only see his feet at first. He was tall and towering over her. She shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up into the face of Ray Barnett. He was smiling like he had a secret. He asked, "Had enough? Or would you like dessert?"

"Oh, dessert, of course, please."

"Open wide." Ray knelt down beside her and fed her one perfect strawberry, warmed by the sun. It tasted as incredible as it smelled. Ray smiled at her, took the stem off another berry, gently held it in his mouth and leaned toward her.

The English folk songs did not appear to be working for either one of them. There was still no sign from Neela and they just weren't challenging enough to take Ray's mind off his worries. He switched gears completely to an acoustic version of Rebel Yell that the band used to cover. The guitar solo was intense. He felt relaxed for the first time in weeks, because he was completely unable to think about anything. His total concentration was focused on playing when Tony Gates walked in the room.

"Wow. You're good." Ray hardly knew how to respond. He'd lost all track of time. "Thanks. Hey, sorry man, I should have cleared out already." He clumsily put the guitar back in its case and balanced it across himself. He'd have to take his leave of Neela with Gates in the room. "Goodbye, Neela." Although he was self-conscious with Gates standing there, he paused and then finished with "I'll see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams."

Tony watched Barnett retreating, threading his chair around equipment in the hall and maneuvering around the nurses' station. He was getting pretty good with that thing, poor bastard. Tony sat in the chair and looked at Neela, or at Neela's body. Neela wasn't in the room and Tony had serious doubts that she ever would be. Hearing Barnett talk to her was strange. He was aware of the theories that sensory stimulation helped coma patients, but Tony hadn't talked to Neela since the day of the accident. It was just too peculiar; it made him think of psych patients talking to imaginary companions or drunks talking to themselves. Barnett seemed natural at it, maybe because he was better at deluding himself, especially when it came to Neela. For a moment there, Tony had caught the fantasy, too. He'd half expected Neela to say goodbye to Ray. Barnett and Mayday. What a pair they made now. The Gimp and the Gork. He knew that was cold, but he'd been doing a lot of thinking while sitting in this room the last couple weeks. He'd gone to the rally to try to convince Neela to change her mind about him. But now, with her so changed, he'd begun thinking maybe he'd had a lucky escape. Between his work and Sarah, the very last thing on earth he needed or wanted was someone else to take care of. He'd admired Neela's independence. Now, in the unlikely event she woke up at all, the last thing she would be was independent.

Neela's dream had turned into a nightmare. She didn't know how it had happened, but she and Ray weren't at the riverbank anymore. They were standing in the middle of a highway. They were separated by a lane of traffic which was mostly a procession of emergency vehicles whizzing by with their sirens blaring. She had to scream to be heard above the noise. 'Ray!!!!'

Tony Gates heard a faint sound. It wasn't like the sounds he always heard here—equipment beeping, phones at the nurses' station, conversation from other rooms. He could have sworn it came from the bed. He looked at Neela. He couldn't see a change. He looked at the monitor. There something was happening. Both her pulse and blood pressure were elevated. Not alarmingly, but definitely a change since he entered the room. He stood up and moved closer to Neela.

There was a truck, heading straight for Ray. Neela lunged into the traffic lane. Oh, God, she must have been hit by something, because there was so much pain.

Neela was starting to stir now, most definitely. Tony stepped out to the nurses' station to tell them to page Dr. Dubenko because something was happening here. Then he went back to Neela's side.

Neela watched the truck hit Ray. His body went flying, doing a grotesque cartwheel in mid-air. A severed limb landed in front of her, but more horrifying, she'd lost sight of Ray; she couldn't see him anywhere. Although she was in agony, and it hurt even to breathe, she took a deep breath to scream again. 'Ray! Where are you?'

"Ray," Neela whispered. Her eyes weren't open but it was clear her lips had just formed the word Ray, although very little sound had come out. Tony felt a stab of pure jealousy and frustration, as if he'd lost some contest. But in the next instant he had to admit that he was also flooded with a nearly overwhelming feeling of relief.

Now Neela was getting restless and Tony began to worry she was going to pull out some of her tubes. She was vaguely grabbing for them, but her aim was no good. He was glad to see the ICU nurse enter the room. "They often wake up combative." Tony saw she had soft restraints and had started putting Neela's hand through. Neela had tears on her cheeks and was repeating "Ray. I want Ray."

"Neela, it's Tony. Try to calm down. Ray's not here right now, but I'll go get him." The nurse had her fully restrained now. Tony went out to the hall to phone Barnett.

Ray answered on the first ring.

"Hi, Ray, it's Tony."

"Neela?" Tony thought he'd never heard so many emotions conveyed with a single word. It was almost painful to listen to that mix of hope, terror and love.

"Yeah." He paused and said, "She's awake and she's asking for you."

Ray's first thought was a prayer of pure gratitude, which was followed by an unfamiliar feeling of humility. He couldn't think of a thing he'd done to deserve this kind of good fortune. He said, "I'll be right there." Ray considered how he would feel if he'd been in the room and Neela had awakened asking for Gates. He said sincerely, "Thank you, Tony."