I'll Be There For You

Ok ay, so I'm gonna try something. And see if it works. Because there is obviously a lot that happened between Thanksgiving of 1988 (when Monica cut off Chandler's toe) and fall of 1994 when the series started in order for them all to be friends. And I want to fill in some of those things!

However, a lot of the flashbacks from the show contradict each other, and the whole timeline of the show makes no sense. I'm going with the guys being in college from 1987-1991 (since they are freshmen fall 1987), but that means that Ross is amazing and got his PhD in 3 years in order to be working by the time the series starts. Good job, Ross! However, this screws with their ages in the show. Somehow, Monica is 26 in season 1, but Rachel turns 30 in season 7. I'm going with them graduating from high school spring 1988, because that's when they were seniors in the flashbacks. I'm keeping with their age from then. Phoebe and Joey will show up eventually, but I feel like since they don't have as much of a back-story with the group until after college, their ages don't matter, haha. And, also, I don't know that it was ever mentioned if Monica actually went to college, or some culinary school, or what, so…I'm doing my own thing with that one. Correct me if I'm wrong.

Anyway, I don't own any characters, or any events mentioned in the show that I toy with in this. And forgive me if college worked differently 15-20 years ago…I'm in college now, and that's the only college life I know :) Oh, and the title is from the Bon Jovi song, not the theme song for the show :)

Oh, and, of course, I will PROBABLY be focusing on Mondler. Ha, probably...Ok, yea, I will be focusing on Mondler :) here we go…

_._._Thanksgiving 1988_._._

Monica sat at the top of the stairs, playing with the bottom hem of her oversized t-shirt. It was one that she had yet to throw away from the past year, and with the shorts she was wearing, it looked more like a dress. From her current position, she could see Chandler lying on the couch, obviously not asleep, since he kept fidgeting and moving positions. As much as she still wanted to be mad at him for calling her fat the year before, she felt that she more than got him back by cutting off one of his limbs. Thinking of that, the toe she found in the kitchen upon their return from the hospital, she shuddered. She had cut off the guy's toe! She not only insulted or embarrassed him, she permanently disfigured him!

More than anything, she wanted to go apologize. Their parents had insisted he and Ross stay after returning from the hospital, and Judy even tried to offer him Monica's room to stay in, saying Monica could sleep on the couch. Chandler declined, saying the couch was fine, and he didn't want to steal Monica's room. Monica smiled at this; maybe he wasn't a complete asshole. At least no more so than other guys their age.

Hearing the sound of the TV turning on, Monica literally jumped, causing the stairs beneath her feet to creak. At the sudden sound, Chandler moved to the edge of the couch, looking up at her. "Hi," he laughed, seeing the deer-in-the-headlights look on her face.

"Um, hi," Monica repeated back, offering nothing else. She wasn't very good at talking to boys. After losing a lot of weight in a year, she had yet to really start going on dates with guys, and still had no idea how to talk to them. Especially ones who called her fat, and then she cut their toe off in retaliation.

"You…wanna join me?" Chandler motioned to the TV, trying to speak just loud enough that she could hear him, but not loud enough so that they would wake anyone else. When she didn't move, he shrugged. "Or just sit up there and watch me…"

"S-sorry," Monica stumbled over her words, making her way down to the living room. "I just feel really, really bad about, ya know, cutting your toe off and all," she stood at the edge of the room, still close to the stairs, nervously scuffing her foot along the ground.

"It was an accident," Chandler sighed. "I've had worse Thanksgivings, believe me," he added, trying to get her to look up at him.

Monica scoffed. "Worse than losing an extremity?"

"Definitely worse than losing an extremity," he nodded, and she moved closer to the couch. "My parents kinda, um, announced their divorce on Thanksgiving when I was nine," he mumbled, staring at the television screen.

"Oh my god, that's horrible!" Monica finally took a seat next to him.

"You're telling me!" he scoffed, turning to look at her. "And that's not even the worst part! Oh, no. The worst part about it is that it's also when my parents decide to tell me that my father is gay, and sleeping with the houseboy," he finished, and Monica tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a giggle. "Is that..funny?"

"No," Monica laughed again. "It's just…um, tact might be lost on your parents."

"You're telling me," he nodded in agreement, leaning back against the couch next to her.

"So, that's why you hate Thanksgiving," she deducted, out loud, and Chandler again nodded. "Did you eat dinner, by the way? We all ate the cold leftovers when we got home, but…"

"Yea, ya kinda left me hanging with the mac 'n cheese," he looked at her in feign anger, but she took it to mean he was really upset.

"Oh my god, so you just didn't eat! I'm sorry, Chandler!" she hopped up. "I'll go make some right now!" she moved to go to the kitchen, but he caught her arm in his hand as she walked by.

"I was kidding, Monica," he offered, softly, pulling her back to the couch, and she blushed slightly. "Your mom made me a sandwich."

"Oh," Monica suddenly felt very stupid. Of course he was kidding. She had been too embarrassed the whole rest of the night to pay much attention to what was going on, and had simply failed to notice that he ate.

"You can make me breakfast to make up for it?" he offered as she sat next to him once again. "As long as there are no knives involved," he elbowed her, and she smiled, finally starting to feel a bit at ease. Feeling a bit more relaxed, she settled back into the couch, her arm brushing his. He froze for a moment before casually adjusting, so that he was now closer to her, their legs now touching. "So, Ross said you're going to some chef school or something this year? That's close to NYU?"

"Yea, I am," Monica's eyes lit up, and Chandler couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "The Institute of Culinary Education. It's great. I know I've only been there a couple of months but it's great," she emphasized, grinning. "I get to actually cook stuff, with real chefs, and I'll be done with two diploma programs in two years," she added, very pleased with herself. "That's sooner than Ross will finish his degree," she finished, and from the little interaction Chandler had with the Gellers, he deducted the last part was aimed at pleasing her mom, who seemed to favor Ross. "So, what's your major? What do you want to be when you grow up?" Monica moved so she was sitting cross-legged, facing Chandler.

Chandler laughed out loud. "Now, there's a question…"

"You don't have a major yet?"

"No, I do, I just…I don't know what I really want to do, ya know?"

"Well, what's your major?" Monica asked again, and Chandler laughed at her persistence.

"English. I like writing," he admitted. "I guess I take after my mom in that way."

"Your mom's a writer?"

"Yea," he looked down, embarrassed. "Nora Bing," he finally mumbled.

"Your mom's Nora Bing!" Monica exclaimed, but then settled down. "I mean, I think Rachel might have read a book by her or something," she picked at a stray thread from the blanket draped over the couch.

Chandler laughed, placing a hand on her bare leg. "Not judging," he shook his head. "As long as you don't judge me for being her son." Monica shook her head in return, staring at his hand, still on her leg. "Good."

"So, you want to be a writer?"

"Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know," he shrugged, hating the question. "My dad keeps telling me to take some sensible classes, like business classes or something. How boring, though," he wrinkled his nose.

"Wants you to follow in his footsteps?" Monica asked, and Chandler again laughed.

"Ha, right. My father," he stopped short, looking at Monica for a second. "Why am I telling you all of this?" Monica's face suddenly fell, and she moved to get up. "No, no, no," he again reached out to her, standing up as she did. "Ow, fuck, ow," he fell back, gripping his leg, having put pressure on his foot.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry," Monica sat next to him for a second, but then jumped back up. "Ice, you need ice," she explained, heading for the kitchen. "God, I just keep hurting you," she returned, sitting next to him, kicking an ottoman in front of the couch so he could put his foot up.

"It's ok," he winced at the coldness of the icepack.

"You don't…you don't have to keep talking to me," Monica finally whispered. "If you don't want to. I can go up to bed."

"No! No, I like talking to you," he smiled at her. "You're-you're really sweet," he added quieter, and noticed that, though she was still staring straight ahead instead of at him, she was smiling. And was slightly blushing.

"I like talking to you, too," she finally admitted, before clearing her throat. "So, what does your dad do that you definitely don't want to follow in his shoes doing?"

Chandler again laughed out loud, and was glad that the awkwardness was again gone. Monica leaned back against the couch, now against his shoulder. "Well, he, um, he…headlinesagayburlesqushowinvegas," he said quickly, and Monica laughed.

"What?"

"He," Chandler sighed, "he headlines a gay burlesque show in Vegas," he whispered, and Monica burst out laughing.

"And you don't want to do that why?" she asked, and he pushed her playfully, laughing as well.

"Yea, well, you've known me for, like, 20 minutes, and already know more about me than Ross, who has lived with me for over a year. Good job," he grinned as Monica leaned back against him. "So, if you go to school really close to NYU, why don't you ever stop and see Ross or anything?"

He felt Monica shrug against him. "I don't know. We just argue a lot. Sibling stuff, ya know?"

"No, I'm an only child."

"Oh. Well…sibling stuff," she again shrugged. "I think we're getting better, though. We get along better than we used to," she laughed. "I used to beat Ross up," she explained, and Chandler laughed as well.

"Well, if you do decide to stop by sometime, or something, you should," Chandler offered. He replayed the rambling offer in his head, and suddenly felt like an idiot.

"I just might do that," Monica nodded, smiling at him. He felt a little less like an idiot. "I, um, I should probably get to bed, though. Let you sleep. And heal," she made a sympathetic face towards his foot. "Sorry again."

"Don't worry about it," he returned her smile. "Goodnight, Monica," he touched her arm again as she stood up, causing her to turn and grin.

"Goodnight, Chandler," she whispered in return, heading towards the stairs, very aware that his eyes were still on her until she was out of sight.

Chandler settled back onto the couch, again trying to get comfortable. Maybe not every part of Thanksgiving was so bad…

To be continued…

_._._

So…should I continue? I need some opinions! I plan on doing a bunch of kinda random moments from here, up until the first episode. So, just need to know what you guys think of the idea, and the fic so far. So, review, and let me know!

And…summer is so close, I can taste! Only two finals to go, and then a month off, a woo-hoo!