Monica's looked down at Erica and smiled. "My little angel." Her hair was sticking up in tufts on account of the fact that it hadn't been brushed since the babies came home from hospital two days ago, and the apartment hadn't been cleaned for three, but she didn't care. Chandler came up behind her and put his hands on her waist. "Beautiful." He smiled. "Let's hope she doesn't get your bossiness and obsessive neatness." He half joked. "Let's hope Jack doesn't get your sense of humour! He's going to military school otherwise…" Chandler laughed. "I don't think military school would be half as bad as 'Monica-School'" Monica rolled her eyes. "Do you ever stop joking? Can you?" Chandler smirked. "Do you ever stop cleaning and organizing? I will if you will." Monica looked shocked. "I haven't cleaned in three days. Oh God, I think I need to sit down." She actually looked genuinely faint. "Aha, there's the Monica I know!" Chandler laughed. "I've never been so happy, Chandler. Have you?" Monica asked him. "It's a three way tie." He told her.
"Oh?"
"Yeah. The day you agreed to marry me, the day you actually did, and right now, as a family." He smiled. "I love you." She told him. He gently kissed her. "I love you too." There was a knock on the door. "Probably another well-wisher." Monica guessed. She had no idea how wrong she was. "I'll get it" Chandler said. "No, I will. If I don't get out of here now, I never will!" She exclaimed. Chandler took Erica off of Monica, and she rushed to get the door. 'Oh.' She thought. It was a paramedic.
"Hello..?" Monica said cautiously.
"Monica Geller?" asked the burly paramedic.
"That's me."
"I'm afraid I have some bad news. Would you like to sit down?" He said gently.
"Of course you do, no paramedic shows up and says "I have some good news!' And you know it's bad when a stranger offers you a seat in your own home. I mean, usually I'd be telling you to take a seat, not the other way around and –"
"Monica." The paramedic gently shutting her up. "You're Ross Geller's sister, correct?"
"Yes."
"What relation to Mrs. Phoebe Buffay-Hannigan are you?" He asked gently.
"It's just Phoebe. I'm not related, she's a close friend. Why?" Monica asked anxiously.
"There's no easy way to say this, and I wish I didn't have to. I'm afraid there was a car accident. We don't know why, but we suspect Mrs. Buffay…erh…Phoebe was speeding."
"She was trying to get Ross to Rachel on time; he's in love with her. I'm sorry Officer…Wait, you're not a cop, you're a paramedic, so why are you telling me this? Oh no…Are they okay?" Monica was getting panicked.
"Phoebe, she's in critical condition." He started off. "Will she be okay?" Asked Monica frantically. "She has a 50/50 chance of surviving." He told her honestly. "50/50? Oh my god, Phoebe! What about Ross? How is he?" Pressed Chandler, speaking for Monica as she was clearly at a loss for words. "He's, Monica I'm afraid Ross has passed away. He died seconds after we got him out of the car. There was nothing we could do, and believe me we tried. I am so sorry for your loss, both of you." The paramedic put his hand on Monica's shoulder. Chandler stood in the door way, taking in everything silently. Monica fell to pieces. She sank into the chair nearest the door and put her head in her hands. This couldn't be happening, it just wasn't possible. And yet, it was. "We have already contacted your parents, and Phoebe's husband is already at the hospital. We couldn't get in contact with Ursula Buffay however. I can offer you a lift there if you'd like." He offered. "Yes, please." Answered Chandler.
* * *