A/N : Joey one-shot. Yes, only a little bit of Mondler mush, but tell me what you think. Joey too serious for you? Please review!
Twenty Years.
It'd been twenty years since he'd last spoken to any of them, save for Chandler. And even that was just a minute long conversation to inform them of the birth of his only child. Now that child was the oldest of three, and-
and it didn't matter what else. Because he'd made a decision, and he would have to stick to it.
He shook his head in attempt to get rid of the thoughts and threw his legs over the end of the bed, taking the cover off as he went. He stole a glance at Alex, smiling softly to himself at the thought of they life they'd created together. The life that they worked so hard to get and make work… he never thought it would be him in this situation. He had a wife, he had kids, and he'd even had a chick and a duck for a little while. He had a pretty good life, nothing to complain about.
But he didn't have his friends. They hadn't been there at the wedding, for the birth of his first child, for his first big part in LA, or his first anniversary party. They hadn't been there because he didn't invite them.
It'd been such a long time since he'd seen any of them. Such a long time…
Twenty Years.
He'd been through this day nineteen times before, and he'd go through it another nineteen, because he had to. He owed it to them.
Cutting his connection to them had been the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He side-stepped their numerous calls, stashed away the yearly Christmas cards in a box deep inside the closet, hid at Gina's house when they came to visit, and it broke his heart every time he saw them unknowingly talking to Chance, Ryes, or Melody. But over time they eventually stopped their trips and attempts to maintain contact, and he was able to be happy. Happy that he could finally begin the process of forgetting about them, which was so far proving to be painfully impossible.
Now his kids were growing up, Melody and Chance, the oldest, about to move out. To New York. Closer to them. And closer to his secret.
Twenty Years.
He knew he could never go back because of what he did, but he missed New York and everything that came with it. The apartments, the foosball table, the chick and the duck, Central Perk, but most of all them. The five people he wanted to see the most in the world, but would travel just that before he let them get too close.
He stood up and walked over to the closet. He opened the door slowly. He knew was he was looking for, but he didn't want to get it. Part of him was shouting not to do it, to be stronger, but another half knew that no matter what he did, it was going to end up in his hands by the end of the day, and he really rather get it over with.
Kneeling down on the plush beige carpet, he crawled to the back of the closet and pulled out a box. It was old, worn down by the years of sitting in a closet, brought out only when it hurt the most. The sides were close to falling apart, even though the things it contained were no more then a memoir or two, and a couple dozen pictures.
Opening the deteriorating flaps, he reached into the box gently, lifting out a thin stack of pictures. They were of different sizes, the most common being the 10x8 most cameras have developed. One of the larger pictures was a posed one- one that was taken at Monica and Chandler's wedding. They were all in it, smiling, him in his ridiculous battle outfit while the other five were wearing bridesmaid dresses and tuxes. He smiled at the picture, running his eyes over the faces, taking in the characteristics of each. He paused at one he knew better then the rest. One he'd seen far more often. The characteristics that he saw every day.
Twenty Years.
Probably more like thirty since that particular picture was taken, and he wondered how all of them looked now. Would there be grey streaks in their hair? Would the girls have dyed their hair to hide any grey? He thumbed to a picture of him and baby Emma, stopping. Emma would be… almost twenty-two now, and he wondered if she looked more like Rachel or Ross.
It pained him that he didn't know, didn't know how Emma looked, how Jack or Erica turned out, if Phoebe and Mike had any luck having children. Did Ross and Rachel have other children? He received an invitation to their wedding years and years ago, but didn't reply. The fancy card and painfully perfect writing made him smile;
You are hereby invited to the wedding of
Dr. Ross Gellar
And
Miss Rachel Green
Then there had been a bunch of writing stating where and when.
Then… on the bottom of the card, in Rachel's writing was,
Joey, we miss you. Come home. Me and Ross were hoping you would do the service for us… Emma misses her uncle and I don't want her to grow up without him… Come home. Don't do this, please.
Love,
Rach, Mon, Chandler, Pheebs and Ross
xoxo
He'd thrown the card along with any other mail he'd gotten from them into the box, and he left those at the very bottom. He didn't want the temptation of opening them, didn't want to know if they were angry letters, sad letters or just letters begging him to come back. He knew if he read them he would crack and call, and it was the last thing he wanted to do.
He was protecting them, and that was enough motivation to keep his hand away from the phone, his fingers away from dialing the number he'd memorized from the moment he'd gotten it. It wasn't only them he risked hurting, it was her as well. The love of his life, one down from Alex. The biggest mistake that cost him everything in NY, but also gave him everything he ever wanted from his life.
He was staring at a picture of the six of them sitting in the coffee house, the camera zoomed in mostly on Rachel, and he could still remember the person who had taken the picture. They were all squeezed in around her, Ross' head only just fitting in. Of course Gunther would zoom in on Rachel, it was to be expected.
-------------
"Jack, stop fidgeting!"
"Stop tying it so tightly!"
"It's a TIE, Jack. They're supposed to be tight!"
"Yeah, it's a TIE Emma, not a bloody NOOSE! Stop trying to kill me!"
"I'm not, but I think I might if you don't stop moving!"
Monica threw her hands up in defeat. There was no possible way to block out their bickering, and people were starting to stare up at the ceiling as if it could tell the two children standing on it to shut up. Except that they weren't children any more. They were all grown up, all moved out, and she missed them. She spotted Erica coming down the hall and pulled her into the kitchen.
"Hey Mom, what's up?" she asked a little startled. She looked to the ceiling when the next couple shouts reached them.
"Ow! Stop it! You're pinching my Adams apple!"
"Well you're not going to have one for much longer!"
Monica took a deep breath, dodging behind the kitchen doors to avoid the curious looks of the guests. As much as she missed them, they were going to be sooo grounded if this continued. "Can you go upstairs and tell Jack and Emma to tone it down a little? Please?" she looked pleadingly at her daughter, who tried to contain a laugh.
"Sure," she answered, turning around only to run into Chandlers arms.
"Yes, I think the people all the way in London can't hear them," he added, kissing Erica on the head before he let her pass. She squirmed at the attention, trying to get away, almost the same height as Monica. Jack was just an inch or so taller, and Chandler was proud that he was still the tallest one in the family. Ben had outgrown Ross considerably, and they all still had a big laugh whenever he bent down to hug Rachel or Monica, or walked with his son, Nick, hand in hand. He watched as Erica walked away, smiling at the sight.
"Why did they have to grow up?" Monica asked, sliding into Chandlers arms. Chandler kissed her,
"I don't know," he answered, resting his head on hers. His mind was preoccupied. Their children had grown up and moved out, ready to take on the world with their friends. He remembered a similar day- not for him, but for Ross, the day he left home for collage. True, Jack and Erica were almost out of collage and already successfully moved to New York, but it was the same idea. He hadn't wanted them to leave any more then they wanted to stay.
At first he'd had his doubts as a father, but he'd soon realized that all it took was love, and the rest would come naturally. He knew he'd been a better father then his dad had been to him, and every time he saw Erica and Jack it made him smile. They'd sat them down when they were in their teens and came clean about their adoption. Chandler hadn't wanted to, but when Monica reminded him of the boy he told was adopted, he caved. He didn't want Erica or Jack finding out from a stranger, but he was still hesitant and unsure.
They sat them both down and explained everything. Why they were adopted, how they went through the process, and their birth. It surprised him when Erica got up after their talk and hugged both him and Monica, saying that she still loved them and that she didn't care, because they would always be her real parents. Jack had been more emotional about it, brooding over the conversation for a day before coming to his senses, and repeating what Erica had said.
And he had yet to tell Emma she was a mistake. Life was going good.
"Both of you shut up! We can hear you all the way from downstairs and Mom's getting pissed!"
Monica buried her head in Chandler's chest. What the hell had happened to subtlety?
"Ah, our children," Chandler stated proudly, laughing at Monica's distress. No more shouts could be heard, and he felt his eyes traveling indirectly towards the phone. Every birthday he had the same wish, the same hope… and it had yet to still come true. Rachel, Ross and Phoebe were here, and he only needed one more to make the day perfect.
"He might still call," Monica whispered, and Chandler shook his head.
"It's been twenty years Mon. He'll call at the same time the Queen does."
Chandler's attempt at the lame humor contrasted with his eyes, the sadness and betrayal in them not lost on her. "He was my brother," Chandler finally said quietly, his head in Monica's hair. Monica nodded her head, wanting to say that Joey had been like a brother to her as well, but knew that their connection had been much deeper.
"I know sweetie, I know…" was all she could manage.
------------------------
"Are you going to call?" a voice behind him asked softly. He would have jumped if not so entranced with the picture. Thin arms wrapped around him and her chin rested on his slowly graying hair. He let the picture drop back into the box, and shut it before he could remember anything else.
He stood up and Alex led him back to the bed. "You know I can't," he answered softly slouching off the edge. He held her hand, wanting nothing more then to let it all go and call, consequences be damned. But he couldn't do that to them.
"Our kids are moving to New York Joey. You can't protect them forever. What if they run into someone? It's a possibility, and if one of your old friends see-"
"I know!" he put his head in his hands. When did everything become so complicated? One second they were putting little Melody to sleep and the next she was getting up and moving across the country with Chance to NY. "It isn't our decision. They're going to go, whether we want them to or not. Maybe they'll never run into each other. Maybe no one will recognize them. Maybe-"
"Maybe they will see her, and will figure it out. They're probably a lot smarter then you give them credit, Joe. But our kids are growing up. We can't stop that."
Alex wrapped her arms around him once again, and he leaned against her. "I know, I just- I wish all of this would go away," he muttered, returning the hug after a moment. "I wish everything would be normal, I wish…"
"I wish I could have my friends back," he added softly afterwards, so softly Alex wasn't sure she heard it. His head was resting against Alex's but he could still clearly see their family portrait, his arms around Alex, and their three children in front of them. Chance with his short, dark hair, gelled up into spikes, and Melody, little Mel that looked so much like her that it scared him. If any of his friends ever saw her, they'd know right away what must have happened, that he'd definitely crossed the line all those years ago.
Tiny steps could be heard hurling to their room and he smiled away his problems. It was Ryes, his seven year old star. The thumps became louder and louder before they stopped, a split second later, a tiny ball of energy landing on his back.
"Daddy!" Ryes yelled, and he turned around to smile at the child. His child. He wrapped his arms around Ryes' tiny form into a bear hug, pulling him in-between himself and Alex. Alex smiled at the both of them, taking a turn to kiss Ryes' head. His brother and sister were 14 years older then he was, but it had never been a problem before and certainly wasn't now.
"Sleep good kiddo?" he asked, kissing his dark hair lightly.
Ryes nodded eagerly, his blue eyes shaking furiously. He looked almost exactly like a mini-Joey, and was the only boy in the class that didn't believe girls had cooties, and would hold open doors, pull out seats and share with them. He was growing up to be quiet the charmer.
"Guess what day it is daddy!" Ryes asked, wiggling away from his hands and climbing over his mother. He caught onto Ryes' legs, pulling the kid towards him.
"Tuesday?" he asked, and Ryes giggled, shaking his head. "Wednesday?" Ryes laughed harder, his head shaking so hard it look close to falling off. "Thursday?" He would have continued with the pattern, but Ryes got up and jumped onto his stomach.
"No! It's swimming lesson day! You're taking me swimming!" He raised a single eyebrow, teasingly.
"Am I?" he asked, and Ryes nodded excitedly. The swimming lesson was part of the plan. Afterwards they had a flight at 4 that would take them to NY, and their eldest's new apartment. And back to the city that held a mountain of memories for him. He'd grown up a lot from the time that he'd left, and he wasn't sure that if they saw him, they'd even recognize him…
"Common Ryes, lets go eat, and then you can drag daddy to the pool," Alex nodded, and Ryes followed her out the door without a backwards look.
Joey sat up in the bed, staring at his hands. He'd matured so much through the years, and he knew why. He'd been forced to change so much; he wanted his old life back – the one he had where he didn't have to worry about anything, always had someone watching his back. So many things had changed…
Twenty Years.
Twenty Years since he left New York and all his friends behind.
Twenty Years since he never showed up for Chandler's birthday party.
Twenty Years since he'd written the note that was supposed to explain everything and nothing.
Twenty Years since the birth of his first child and the start of his 6 month single parent life.
Twenty Years since Chandler left the message- his only wish for Joey to come home.
Twenty Years since an era had ended… and another had begun.
Twenty Years gone and past, another Twenty waiting right around the corner.