Disclaimer: The names of characters contained herein are the property of the copyright holder of "ER." No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and said characters are used here without permission. I've rewritten this part so many times that I can't remember how it originally was! Hope you enjoy, reviews please.


'I've been trying to tell you people that something's wrong with her for months' Gates butted in.

Abby knew he was right; she'd ignored him every time he'd tried to mention it. She'd thought it was his way of getting back into Neela's graces after she'd split up with him all those months before. But could he actually be right, could he have seen what she, her best friend, couldn't? Her stomach was tied up in knots, which Neela was doing nothing to ease with her refusal to pick up the phone.

After much discussion and raised voices between various members of the ER, Abby and Pratt found themselves on her doorstep a few hours later. Greg firmly rapped his knuckles on the door. They stood there waiting for Neela to open it but she didn't. Abby slid her key into the lock, but it felt like there were keys on the other side, locking Neela in, and them out.

'Look if there's a key in the lock she's obviously in and okay, I say we just give her some time, leave her be' he turned as if to walk away down the corridor.

'Greg, I'm worried about her, Lucien's right, this isn't like her, I think we should call the police' she knew that he didn't believe that anything was wrong, but she did. It felt like her stomach was doing back flips, and the more she thought about it the more worried she became.

'What are they going to do? They'd just say you were overreacting' but it was slowly dawning on him that Abby and Dubenko, and even Gates, were right, this wasn't normal behaviour for Neela.

'I could…' he gestured at the door with his shoulder.

Abby looked at him in disbelief, she couldn't believe that they would have to resort to brute force. 'God, I can't believe I'm agreeing to this' she gave Greg a despairing look 'but I don't know what else we can do, just be careful'

He stepped back loosening his tie. With all his weight behind him he took a run at the door and with the crack of wood, the grinding of metal and a groan it flew open. A strong smell of stale air, rotten food and alcohol hit them. Pratt's face screwed up in distaste, he looked across at Abby and saw the trepidation in her eyes. The curtains were closed and there were no lights on, which only added to the abandonment. The only sign that the apartment was inhabited was the faint sound of music filtering through from the bedroom. Abby flicked the light switch. The place was a mess; old takeaway cartons and dirty plates piled up around the kitchen area, flies circling them. Empty bottles of tequila, wine, and beer scattered across the floor. They stood there in stunned silence, the realisation of how much they'd neglected Neela, and how she'd neglected herself, rapidly sinking in.

'We need to check the bedroom' Abby said decisively, what she'd seen so far could only be an indicator of the state that would be in.

Her nostrils were assaulted by the strong smell, while her eyes took in the sight in from of her, when she pushed the door open. Neela was lying on the bed, an empty bottle of tequila on the cover beside her. The rest of the surface was littered with photographs, letters, and a phone. A CD was playing on repeat, she recognised the voice but couldn't place where from.

Greg pushed past her and moved cautiously across the room to Neela's side with Abby following close behind. As he got nearer he could see the faint rise and fall of her chest. Her skin had a blue tinge to it and was bloated and clammy looking. He touched her shoulder but she didn't respond. He gave her a shake, calling her name, but she still didn't react. He repeated his actions numerous times but her shallow breathing was the only sign that she was alive. He felt for her pulse, it was weak but racing, and when he pushed back her eyelids they revealed pupils that were dilated and reacted poorly to the light in the room. Looking at his watch, he counted her breaths, seven a minute, not enough. These symptoms, which were classic signs of alcohol poisoning, and the bottle of tequila beside her, caused his heart to race. He looked up at Abby 'we need to get her to County'

Abby pulled out her phone, and with shaking hands, started to call for an ambulance, but he stopped her.

'It'll be quicker if we take her, my car's out front, I'll drive, we'll get there faster than they can get here' it was foolish, and went against what they both knew they should do, which was call for the paramedics, but his guilt was eating away at him, and as a doctor he felt he knew best. However, before he did anything else he picked up the telephone and pressed some buttons, if he was right...

She looked at him quizzically as he looked at the screen on the phone 'What are you doing?'

'Abby, look around, this wasn't accidental; she intended to do this, she didn't mean for anyone to find her. We need to know if she called anyone before she did it' his face turned grey as he put the phone down, it wasn't who he'd expected.

'And? Did she?' Her mind couldn't quite follow where he was going with this.

'Yeah, she called Ray Barnett a few hours ago' he pulled Neela into his arms, one arm under her legs, one around her shoulders and lifted her as if she weighed less than a bag of sugar, her head flopping back against his shoulder as he rose.

'What? Ray? But no one's heard from him in months' she watched as a shadow briefly crossed his face 'Greg?'

He sighed 'I have, but I promised I wouldn't say anything' he made his way back out of the room, carrying Neela.

'Greg, what's going on?' before she left the room she remembered to turn the CD off, and as she was about to flick the switch, it clicked, Ray, the person who was singing was Ray. As she leant over a photograph on the bed caught her eye, it was of Neela and Ray, and as she looked more carefully she saw that all the photographs featured Ray or Michael and her mind started to work overtime.

'I'll explain on the way' his voice drifted through from the other room.