The One Where Ross Can't Work
9:30 a.m. in Manhattan, and Rachel could be found blinking her eyes in confusion. The sun streamed in through the apartment, and a groan escaped from her soft pink lips. Sunday. Ross' side heaved in and out heavily next to her and he tossed to his other side. The disheveled blanket was tugged away from her and she rolled her eyes. The duvet was a gift from Ross' parents, Jack and Judy, and as much as they appreciated it, the cover was extremely distasteful. It was loud and colorful with floral prints clashing around with stripes.
Her daughter was 6 now. School had become a large part of her life, and although Rachel cherished the peace that she got from 8:00 to 2:30, she missed her little Emma very much. She often cried when she and Ross were alone, but he would comfort her and she would stop. What would she do without him?
Pondering this, the honey colored blonde glanced down at her ring. It was studded with diamonds and a sapphire rested in the center of it. On the inside of the band "Rachel Geller" was engraved in a beautiful cursive font. It must have been very expensive, but Ross bought it without a second thought.
"Rachel Geller," she whispered to herself. The name really did have a nice ring to it, huh? Her husband, the most romantic and sweet guy in the world, gave it to her. The best gift in the world was hers, and his name was Ross Eustace Geller.
He stirred under the covers. Rachel could hear his distant cry of loneliness. Ross had let the world know that he was awake, and more so that his wife was gone.
"Rachel?" He whimpered pitifully. She walked to the bed and looked at him. "Ross is like a pathetic dog when he's sick. He cries, and whines, and he always needs you right there," Monica had told her once. The expecting mother took it with a grain of salt and laughed. Ross had the strongest immune system out of any of them and rarely got sick. But lately his stomach had been hurting and his throat was sore. Last night he had also broke out into a coughing fit and woke Rachel, but he didn't know that.
"Yes, Ross," she muttered irritably. Even Emma didn't act this way when she was sick. Luckily the girl had gotten her daddy's immune system and didn't have to worry about getting a flu shot every season.
"Could you get me another blanket, sweetie?" Rachel was about to tell him off, but couldn't. He sat there trembling with a fever of 104.6 degrees, and tears from coughing welled on his face. So with that, she set off to the linen closet where she got him an extra soft throw blanket that emphasized the tacky cover up.
"And some juice?" They held eye contact briefly but the newly found winch trudged into the kitchen and poured him a glass of Sparkling Grape that she purchased from Wal-Mart. It was his favorite if he couldn't drink wine, so why not?
"Thanks, honey," he took a sip and Rachel nodded. Turning to put the cup down, the dark magenta liquid soaked the bed as he spilled it.
"Oh crap," he growled, jumping up out of the bed. His robe was stained, as was the dear comforter. Well, at least one thing about the situation had helped the fashion crime that she constantly committed.
"Ross…." Rachel grunted as she ran into the bathroom to get towels. She came back with three dark full sized towels and through them at Ross. After that she rushed out of the bedroom and to the phone where she would call her free cleaning service. Monica Bing.
"Hey Chandler," she whispered sadly.
"Rach? Why are you calling us at 10 in the morning?" He had just woken up and stretched as he finished his sentence.
"Well, your brother-in-law decided to ruin our bed by spilling some damn juice on it!" She uttered angrily.
"Well, Mon is asleep right now. And could you be any louder? I'm right next to her," his voiced trailed off as he pet Monica's sleeping face. She sighed happily and smiled in her sleep. Chandler loved it when she did that- it was so sweet.
"As soon as she wakes up send her over. And I mean it, Chandler Bing," she whispered angrily as she set the phone down.
Chandler put the phone on the hook and gazed over at the sleeping figure next to him. He craned his neck to kiss her and placed one on her cheek. She was so beautiful- how could someone like her love someone like him? It just didn't seem possible, but of course he was glad that she did. She was definitely his better half. He leaned down to kiss her forehead again and lay beside her. He smiled contentedly and shut his eyes, willing sleep to come back to him.
Back at the Geller household, Ross glared at Rachel, and she gave him mutual contact.
"Ross!" She yelled, snapping. "This is your fault! We wouldn't have a soaked bed if you would stop whining like a- like a- a pathetic little kitten sent to Hell!" She spat. Ross' face fell. He had been right next to her when she was sick. He never left her side and felt obligated to fulfill all of her ridiculous needs. Because he loved her. Didn't that mean anything? Apparently it didn't to her.
"Rachel, honey, I'm very sorry. Just please calm down," he soothed. She still stood before him, fuming. Her gorgeous blue eyes glared at him in hatred, and his soft chocolate brown eyes pleaded with her.
"Oh nooo Geller. You aren't drawing me in this time. I'm a big girl, I can stand up for myself, and make my own decisions. I don't need "Daddy" to come and save me anymore. I think we should take another break," she barked matter of factly.
Ross' face sunk down into an astonished look of sadness. A break? Emma needed them together, their friends needed them together, but Ross needed them together most of all. She was his whole world- the one that he could protect, rely on, and share his dreams with. She was the one who, no matter what, he could love, kiss, and reassure. Forever. They had a family now- she couldn't tear them apart. She wasn't that selfish.
"Rach, let's talk about this. Emma-" he whispered, choking on his voice. A tear slid down his eye as his sentence broke, and he clamped his mouth shut, bottom lip quivering. Her eyes were full of tears, and they streamed down her cheeks; the beautiful cheeks that Ross used to stroke and kiss.
"No, Ross. I'm done. You always get like this, and then beg for forgiveness. But it's too late. I wasn't the same girl I used to be. I've grown- matured. You can't just walk all over me anymore, Ross," she sobbed unhappily.
"B-but Rachel. I love you so much… Please don't go," he pouted, trying not to cry. The tears spilled over anyway though, and they flowed freely. Just as soon as everything had gotten better, he screwed up. He acted stupid and lost his beautiful, perfect wife for a damn glass of juice.
"I love you too, Ross. But you'll move on- you always do," she wept. Suddenly she got angrier than ever before. "And go back to that stupid bitch Mona while you're at it! Oh- and sleep with other sluts from the museum like last time. But that won't change anything, right? Because we're on a break? And that's supposedly okay. And that means that you won't mind of I go back to Josh? Or Paolo- we can have some more rough animal sex. Remember that Ross? Do you? And by the way- I lied! It wasn't just sex with him, we had a connection. He was a real man!" She screamed. Ross' face twisted and he fell onto his knees.
"No," he whispered as she grabbed her purse and stomped out the door. He remained there, on his wobbly legs. He shook with sadness and anger. "Damn it Rachel Green!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. It felt good for that second, but as soon as he was done he crumpled to the floor in a heap of pain.
Ross lay there, sobbing hysterically. A nosebleed had developed, but he left it there. It would be cleaned later. By none other than the lonely man of divorce, Ross Geller. Suddenly an idea came over him.
He stood up enthusiastically and made his way to the kitchen. Opening a drawer, he found bungee cords and a stool. With a smile he made his way to the center of the living room.
"And I just unleashed some hellish beast on him, Monica. God, I'm so stupid! I just lost the best man on this earth because of my jealousy!" Rachel wept to Monica. Her sister-in-law held her hand and rubbed her back reassuringly.
"I'm sure you'll get back together, sweetie. You always do," she pacified. Rachel nodded but felt no different at her comment. What's done is done, as Dr. Drake Ramoray would say.
"But right now, I'll leave you with Chandler, honey. I'm going to check on Ross… He is my brother, after all," she added as Rachel shot her a look of bewilderment.
"Well, Rachel, you'll get what you've always wanted," he sighed with a sob, "you'll never have to deal with me again."
He took a bungee cord and connected it to the industrial ceiling fan he had insisted on replacing. The hooks were linked together.