Set Season 5, early morning a few weeks after Ross's Wedding.
5am
Chandler;
Time alone with my thoughts used to be a time I dreaded; my head often a tangled mesh of doubts, useless humorous quips, and delayed teenage hormones.
That dreaded time of 5am, the golden orange sun of summer just beginning to make its presence felt, when the rest of the city lies peaceful in slumber. And I'm the one who lies awake in my bed, harrowed by thoughts running through my head. The golden sunlight overshadowed by a dark cloud and I felt more alone than ever.
And some 5am's, it seems like things will never change. I'll always be afraid of these quiet times. And then I stretch my body an inch or so and turn my head, and it feels like nothing will ever be the same again.
She lies in a deep sleep, rested in my arms, my grip gentle but firm around her tiny frame. A small smile tugs on her lips, the corners curved to perfection (well, to her usual high maintenance standards) and a gentle sigh escapes in her 361st rhythmic breath I've counted since I woke.
Breathe in. The lips curl up a little more.
Breathe out. They return to their 'perfect' curl.
Breathe in again. She scrunches up her nose.
Breathe back out. And back it goes.
In. She snuggles closer.
Out. I kiss her lightly on the head and resume watching her sleep.
Ironically, watching her breathe makes me feel organised.
And rather poetic. Neither of those things seem right.
Maybe they weren't, but I couldn't ignore the fact that I woke the same time every morning for the last two weeks, for the same reason.
To think of her.
It's just a bit of fun.
I never get any of that.
Can't it be any more?
No, people will kill you.
Ah yes, the dreaded Gellers.
God bless your wedding Ross.
Oh come on, look what I have!
I have her!
The orange glow reflected on her face, and I realised just how beautiful she was.
Sigh.
She's so gorgeous.
She's never looked more amazing in her life.
God, she was addicting.
I should really stop watching her.
She'll wake up soon.
But then I can't watch her.
Then she'll have to go.
I don't want her to go.
Sometimes I wish I didn't have a brain.
Oh but you do!
"Oh, will you shut up already!"
I think I said that a little too loudly.
Monica bolted upright in bed, proceeding to bang her head against the headboard sharply.
"OW! Chandler! What the hell are you doing!" Her whisper was fierce, much more aware than I was that Joey might actually be sleeping in the room next door.
"Good morning to you too, sweetheart."
She scowled.
I stared back.
Still scowling.
Okay, I don't like that scowl.
"Sorry," I whispered pathetically.
"I should think so too!"
Monica rubbed her head and pulled the covers back over her fragile naked frame. I wasn't sure why she was covering herself up; I saw a lot more last night. In fact, I can see her naked anytime I want. I just have to close my eyes.
Wow.
Oh yeah, that's the stuff.
"Chandler!"
I quickly shook myself back to reality.
"Sorry."
She scowled again and rubbed the back of her head, wincing as she touched it.
"OW!" I noticed a small purple-ish bruise was emerging.
"God, that looks nasty." I went to touch it gently, and she flinched.
"Ow! Don't touch it!"
"Sorry, sorry, sorry!"
"It's okay." She squeezed my hand gently, and I glanced at where her hand was placed over her head. It didn't look too pleasant.
"You sure you're okay?" I asked.
"I'm sure."
"Okay," I replied, a brief silence following, proceeding to fill the room.
"Okay, I better get going before Rachel gets up."
I sighed in my head. "Okay," I said bravely, kissing her lightly on the lips. She turned and climbed out of bed, proceeding to crumble to the floor and grab back onto the edge of my bed for my support.
"Whoa, Mon! Okay, you are not okay!" I jumped out of bed, checking I was remotely covered up, and stretching over the bed to find her woozy and puzzled form sitting on the floor in a rather confused position, her organised tendencies ensuring that she didn't look half as naked as she actually was.
"Okay, I am not okay," she agreed, nodding weakly.
"You obviously banged your head a little too hard. We're getting you to the hospital."
"NOW!"
"Yes, now."
"But what are we gonna tell the guys?"
"Huh?"
"Well, since when is either of us up and gone before 6am?"
"I see your point. Ehh, we'll think of something."
"Like?"
"Well, I haven't thought of it yet. I'm sure it'll be smart and overly witty as usual." I laughed to myself quietly. Hahahaha. Oh man, I'm so funny.
"So, are we going today?" Her shrill voice snapped me back to reality.
"What? Yes, yes, sorry." I helped Monica to her feet gently. "Whoa, um, you should probably, y'know..." I looked down at her body.
She followed my gaze.
"Ah yes, clothes! I've heard they're quite vital these days!" She laughed nervously and proceeded to get dressed.
x-x-x-x-x-x
Monica;
He held my hand gently as we sat in the waiting room. The last two hours we had sat there, a chorus of "Are you okay?" and "Are you sure I can't do anything" had been flowing from his mouth steadily. Some may have found it rather annoying, which granted, I should of too.
But something inside me couldn't be annoyed with him. That usual longing to retort at his witty comments and make him cower at my wrath had disappeared suddenly. And I knew why, I just wouldn't admit it.
But hey, I'm a freak, I live in denial.
"Miss Geller, the doctor will see you now."
x-x-x-x-x
The doctors hands felt its way through my hair, examining my head carefully, careful not to cause me any pain.
"She's going to be okay isn't she doctor?" Chandler looked terrified, his eyes pleading for an answer.
The doctor's eyes met with Chandlers. "She's gonna be just fine, just needs a couple of stitches, and I'm afraid it may well leave a small scar."
"Scar! I just bruised my head!" I was a little shocked to say the least.
"No, you cut your head slightly. Was easy to miss though, your hair's very dark and you've got a lot of it."
I nodded my response.
"She sure has," Chandler agreed in a gentle tone I had never heard before, but sure wouldn't mind hearing again. He stroked my hair gently and flashed a smile, and I felt a pleasant tingle run through my body.
Oh wow.
How much longer could I deny it?
This wasn't a fling anymore.
x-x-x-x-x
"So what do we tell them then?"
Chandler rolled over on the bed to face me.
"About the stitches?"
"Yeah, what else would we be telling them?"
My eyes met his and suddenly my mouth went dry.
"Nothing, nothing," I whispered.
He looked at me unconvincingly. "Sure?"
"Yeah, just…"
"Just?"
"I love you so much."
Monica snuggled tightly into her husband's embrace, their warm bodies locked together tightly. Chandler kissed her on the head lightly and breathed in, the delicious sent of his wife's shampoo drugging him instantly.
"I love you too baby," he whispered back, stroking her arm softly, and running his hand up into her hair, twirling it around his fingers and massaging her head for a while. Suddenly something came to his attention.
Monica noticed the lack of pleasure being provided and sat up slightly. "What's wrong?"
"I found your scar."
"Oh."
"It's beautiful."
She smiles in a slightly confused manner. "Never thought of it like that, but thank you all the same." Chandler laughed softly.
Silence. Yawn.
"I'm gonna sleep now."
"Okay baby."
"Night Monica. Love you."
Yawn. "Love you too."
x-x-x-x-x
Chandler;
Time alone with my thoughts used to be a time I dreaded; my head often a tangled mesh of doubts, useless humorous quips, and delayed teenage hormones.
She lies in a deep sleep, rested in my arms, my grip gentle but firm around her tiny frame. I watch her sleep, completely oblivious to being watched, her nose wrinkling cutely, a small smile tugging on those sweet cherry lips.
And some 5am's, it seems like things will never change.
A time alone with my thoughts, thinking about the my wife of two years who I love beyond words lying in my arms.
I hope they never change.