Disclaimer: I don't own ER. This is one of my favourite chapters of this so far, so I hope you enjoy. Hope to post a new chapter of Guilt in the next couple of days but I have houseguests so may not be possible to update as much.
A car slowed as it drew near. The engine cut. He listened but didn't move. He'd reacted twice already and it hadn't been her.
A door opened and closed, a delay in between as the occupant got out. Another and another, a longer delay between the opening and closing. Three people.
He let out the breath he'd subconsciously been holding. Not Abby then.
His mother was at the door calling out a welcome.
He strained to hear the response.
He heard two sets of footsteps on the path.
He heard one stumble, his mother's sharp intake of breath.
Then her feet flying down the path.
He heard Abby's voice 'Shit, I knew we shouldn't have come'
He steeled himself not to move.
His mother's 'what can I do?'
Sheer will power forced him to walk to the kitchen not the door.
'Can you get my bag from behind the driver's seat? I knew this was too much for her'
His heart working overtime, somehow deep inside he knew they were talking about Neela, but he didn't acknowledge that thought.
'Hey honey, it's okay, shh, no don't try to get up yet, just rest a bit' Abby's doctor's voice in full. He heard the tone change 'is there somewhere I can take her? she should lie down?'
Distancing himself from them. Voices still drifting through.
'Umm, yeah, Ray's room'
His girl in his bed.
Dark brown hair fanned on the pillow. Chocolaty eyes heavy with desire looking up at him. Warm soft skin against his.
'Honey do you think you can sit up? Slowly, there's no hurry, umm… I've got you, it's okay, can you bring my bag?'
He heard them enter the house. He stayed where he was. So many things he knew he would want to do when he saw her, so many that he couldn't, so many that he shouldn't.
Gripping the worktop. His mother entering the room.
'She's here?' his voice sounding foreign even to his own ears.
His name on her lips, her hand on his chest.
Staring out the window. Seeing nothing except her face.
'Yes'
Grip tightened. Eyes closed, raised to the ceiling. Swallowing.
Hair like satin draped in his hand, the sweet taste of her mouth, limbs entwined with his.
Door opening, turning, Abby entering.