OKAY, HERE'S MY NEW FIC. THIS FIRST PART IS KIND OF LIKE THE INTRO, AND I DON'T KNOW HOW MANY CHAPTERS THIS IS GOING TO HAVE BECAUSE I HAVEN'T REALLY HASHED OUT THE ENTIRE IDEA YET, BUT TIME WILL TELL. THIS IS SET IN THE FUTURE (ABOUT 2018 OR SO) BUT THERE ARE FLASHBACKS THROUGHOUT. PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS... AND WHILE THIS MIGHT LOOK LIKE IT'S HEADED NOWHERE, IT WILL BE SOON. HOPEFULLY. LOL. ANYWAY, PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW!
AND, ON A DIFFERENT NOTE: DOES ANYONE FIND THIS NEW SEPARATION OF NEW STORIES AND UPDATED CHAPTERS CONFUSING? I DO... THEN AGAIN, I'M NOT THAT BRIGHT, LOL. :-) JUST THOUGHT I'D VENT. OK, YOU CAN READ IT NOW.
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THESE CHARACTERS. WELL, NOT THE SIX FAMOUS ONES, ANYWAY. THE ONES WHOSE NAMES DON'T RING ANY BELLS PROBABLY BELONG TO ME (AND ARE THEREFORE FAR LESS WELL-DEVELOPED, LOL).
Sarah sighed as she opened the front door to her apartment and realized, as she did most nights, that it was dark and no one was home. She dumped her books and her bag on the couch and bent over the answering machine. When she saw that it was flashing, she hit the button and listened as her father's voice filled the room.
"Hey, Sarah, it's Dad. Listen, I've got to go out for dinner with Doug, so I'll probably be home late. There's money in the top drawer of my dresser if you want to order pizza, or you can go to Ross and Rachel's for dinner if you want to. I called them and they said that they'd love to have you, so give them a call if you want. I've got my 'cell phone if you need me. Bye." There was a click and the electronic voice of the machine informed her that she had no other messages. She glanced around the dark apartment once more and, ultimately deciding that she didn't feel like another night of dinner alone, she grabbed her jacket and headed over to her uncle's house.
"Hey, sweetie!" Sarah smiled as her Aunt Rachel opened the door and gave her a hug. "How was school?" she asked, taking her jacket.
"Schoolish," Sarah replied bluntly. "Only six months left until graduation. I can't wait." Rachel smiled.
"So how are the college applications coming along?"
Sarah groaned. "That is quite possibly the most tedious of tasks. I mean, I have no idea what my greatest achievement is... hell, I'm only seventeen! To be perfectly honest, I'm proud of the fact that I'm not a doped-up teenage mother... that in itself is beating some odds." Rachel smiled. Her goddaughter undoubtedly had her father's wit. "Where's Uncle Ross?"
"In the kitchen," she said, shooing her toward the back of the house. "I put him in charge of dinner tonight."
"Oh, man... maybe I should just get pizza, after all."
Rach smiled. "Actually, he's getting better. Tonight I requested spaghetti. Tough one to screw up."
Sarah grinned. "I wouldn't put it past him."
"I heard that!" Sarah smiled as she walked into the bright kitchen. "Hey, kiddo." He kissed his niece on top of the head and returned his attention to the task at hand.
"Hey, Uncle Ross. Just kidding. Dad said it would be okay if I joined you guys." Ross nodded.
"Of course! If you can put up with us for an evening."
She laughed. "Anything's better than pizza alone with just the TV for conversation." She noticed a sad look cross Rachel's face and she immediately felt bad. "Wow, I really am a weird teenager... most kids would kill for that!" she said, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. A somewhat awkward pause followed before Ross suggested that Rachel grab the garlic bread out of the oven. Sarah raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Garlic bread?" Rach grinned.
"Frozen stuff," she whispered. "Minimal cooking required." Ross glared at her as Sarah laughed.
"So... how's Ben?" she asked, leaning against the counter.
"He's doing well," Ross replied. "Still looking for, and I quote, 'the right job.' But he's fine... the first year after college is never easy." Sarah nodded. Although Ben was 24, they'd always gotten on really well, even when they were kids. She figured that was to be expected, given that she practically grew up at her aunt and uncle's house. "Okay, well, this is ready, I think." Ross scooped out a noodle and threw it at the wall, smiling when it stuck. "Yep. Ready."
Rachel rolled her eyes and sighed. "The mark of a true chef. Monica must have really rubbed off on you." She paused and glanced at Sarah, who offered a small smile. The three were silent for a moment before Rach clapped her hands. "Okay! Sit, people!" Sarah sank into one of the chairs at the table and smiled, glad that they'd offered to have her over. As much as she liked being alone sometimes, dinner alone got old.
"I'm going to check on Nicholas," Ross informed them after they'd cleared the plates away. Rachel nodded and Ross left the kitchen to look in on their 2-year-old son. Sarah smiled absently as he left.
"How's Nick?" Rachel sighed.
"Well, I know what they mean by 'terrible two's' now," she mused. "Everything's a 'no.' But Ross said Ben was the same way, so at least I know he's normal. Either that, or it's just a Geller thing." Sarah smiled.
"Amazing that even when you want to kill them, they're still so cute."
Rachel laughed. "Tell me about it. Sometimes I try to be so strict, but he gives me that look and I can't help giving in."
"I always wanted a little brother," Sarah mused in a far-off voice. Rachel smiled slightly.
"Yeah, well, sometimes younger siblings can be hell. Trust me. My younger sister, Jill... ugh... nightmare." Sarah smiled again. "You want some hot chocolate, sweetie?"
"Sure." Rachel nodded and made them each a cup and then suggested they go into the den, to which Sarah agreed.
"So, where are you applying?" Rach asked as they sank into the couch.
"Well, at the moment I think just NYU, Boston College, UCLA, and Florida State." Rachel raised her eyebrows.
"Wow. Talk about trans-continental." Sarah nodded. "Which one's your first choice?"
"UCLA."
"Wow," she said again. "Pretty far."
"Yeah. I want to get out of here."
"What does your father say about that?"
"What does he ever say? I only applied to NYU because he wanted me to apply to at least one school here, but if I get in anywhere else, I'm out of here."
Rachel smiled sadly. "He's going to miss you next year."
"Hmph. He'll probably see me more next year than he does now," she scoffed. She felt immediately guilty when Rachel looked at her sadly. "Sorry."
"Oh, sweetie, it's okay. I know you... don't entirely understand him, but trust me. He loves you more than you will ever know."
Sarah sighed as she turned her mug around in her hands. "Yeah, well... you'd never know it from my end." She looked up. "Sorry, that sounds so self-pitying. I just... I wish that he'd just... I don't know... act like he cared. He's just... so... nonchalant. Cut off."
"I know, sweetie."
Sarah looked at her carefully and was silent for a moment before she spoke again. "What happened that day?" Rachel gazed at her, slightly surprised.
"What day?"
"The day I was born," she said carefully.
Rach shifted uneasily. "Um, look, hon, I think this is a discussion you and your father should have."
"Please, Aunt Rachel. All I know is what he thought I needed to know. Nothing... explanatory." Rach sighed.
"Okay, if you're sure you want to hear this, I'll tell you."
Sarah nodded. "I'm sure."
"All right. Well, you know your parents had been married for a year..."
**FLASHBACK**
"Hi, sweetheart!" Chandler grinned as he entered the apartment.
"Hi, yourself," he replied, bending over the back of the couch and kissing her on the forehead. "And hello to you," he said, rubbing her bump. "What did you two do today?"
Monica groaned. "Absolutely nothing. I have cabin fever," she complained as she shifted slightly. Chandler smiled.
"Well, would my beautiful wife and my unborn child like to go out for a walk?" He laughed when Monica's eyes lit up like a child who had found a new toy.
"Yes!" she yelped, trying to stand, smiling gratefully when he helped her off the couch. "Let's go!"
"Sweetie, you might want to bring a jacket."
"Chandler, it's the middle of May. I'm not going to need a jacket."
"Please?" he said, giving her the puppy-eyes that drove her crazy simply because she could never say no to them. "Just in case it gets chilly."
"Oh, all right," she said, sighing. "I swear, you'd think I was made of glass, never mind pregnant." He smiled.
"Very pregnant," he corrected her.
"Why, thank you. I was unaware of that, even though I'm fat, moody, and constantly have swollen ankles." He smiled.
"Just thought you'd like to hear Dr. Bing's diagnosis."
"Well, thanks. I'll keep it in mind." He grinned again as he opened the door for her, following her as she waddled out.
"I still like Nicholas," Monica said, licking the ice cream cone Chandler had gotten her from the nearby vendor as they sat on a bench in the park.
"Yeah, I like Nicholas. I just think that Alexander sounds better with 'Bing.'" After a thoughtful silence, Monica nodded.
"Yeah, I guess you're right about that. Alexander Bing. Alex." She nodded again. "Okay, Alexander for a boy. What about the girl names?"
"I'm sticking by Mackenzie Elizabeth."
"Sarah Elizabeth."
"Mackenzie."
"Sarah."
"Hey, we went with your boy's name!" Chandler argued.
"Right. Which proves I'm better at picking names," Monica countered. Chandler rolled his eyes.
"We'll just see. We still have time yet."
"Yeah. Probably hours." He smiled, sobering when he noted that a funny expression had crossed her face.
"Mon?"
"Um, yeah. That hurt."
He jumped up, dumping his half-eaten ice cream cone in the trash can next to them. "Hurt? What hurt? The baby? Baby hurt?"
"Um, sweetheart? Help me up." Chandler obliged, taking her arm and helping her stand. As she rose, her water suddenly broke. "Okay, yeah. Hospital time."
"Oh, God," Chandler yelped. "Hospital! Okay. Um." He paused, looking at Monica for instruction before he snapped his fingers. "Cab!" He went to run toward the street, stopping when he heard Monica calling him. He turned to see her waddling toward him slowly, hands on her stomach. "Oh, right!" He ran back toward her, gently taking hold of her arm and guiding her toward the street. He hailed a cab and helped her into the backseat, running around and jumping in the other side. "Beth Israel, please! Fast!" The driver took a quick look at the very pregnant Monica and nodded, registering what was going on.
"Hold on, I'll have you there in no time!" Tires squealing, he pulled away from the curb and began the weaving in and out of traffic of the city streets.
"Good luck, man!" the cabbie yelled as Chandler helped Monica out of the car.
"Thanks!" Chandler replied as he slammed the cab door and guided Monica into the hospital. He grabbed the nearest person in scrubs.
"Pregnant lady. Baby coming. Coming now." He paused as the guy simply stared at him. "Help!" he yelled, exasperated.
"Well, my first words of advice would be to find an actual doctor," the guy suggested. "I'm just a patient. Well, my wife is. Just had a baby myself."
"Congratulations," Monica offered, breathing heavily.
"Thanks," he said, smiling. "Talk to that woman," he offered, pointing toward the nurses' station. Chandler guided Monica to the desk and turned to the woman sitting behind it. Before he could speak, the woman held up her hand.
"Yes, sir, I heard. Name?"
"Depends on if it's a boy or a girl," he replied, exasperated. "We haven't got time for this!"
"Sir, I meant your wife's name," she explained.
"Oh," he said sheepishly. "Monica Bing." She nodded and waved to a passing nurse.
"Abby, take Mrs. Bing and get her ready for delivery. Mr. Bing? John will take you to get some scrubs." Chandler nodded and leaned toward Monica.
"I'll be right back, babe," he said softly, kissing her lightly on the forehead before following the retreating doctor.
"Hi, Monica, I'm Dr. DeWitt."
"Hello," she replied, breathing heavily.
"I see you're doing your Lamaze breathing, that's excellent," he said as he looked at her chart. Chandler entered, decked out in pale blue hospital scrubs, and immediately took his place next to the delivery table.
"Hey, babe," he whispered, kissing her forehead, which was already damp with sweat. "I called the guys. They're on the way." She nodded, eyes closed as she waited for the contraction to pass. He gently brushed away the hair that was sticking to her forehead and kissed her again. She allowed her head to fall back as she opened her eyes and smiled up at him.
"Wow," she said, low enough so that the doctor couldn't hear.
"What?"
"You look all sexy in those."
Chandler grinned. "You know, missy, it's exactly that kind of thinking that got you into this situation."
She smiled back. "Yeah, well, as I seem to remember it, you were there, too."
He grinned again. "Don't I know it."
"Okay, Monica," the doctor interrupted. "On the next one we're going to push, okay?"
"We?" Monica inquired. "Wow, modern technology. Now labor is a group effort."
Chandler stared at her for a moment. "I think you've been around me too long. Sarcasm's starting to rub off." She rolled her eyes.
"Okay, doctor, push we shall." A few minutes later another contraction hit, and Monica pushed, squeezing Chandler's hand and closing her eyes tightly, her jaw clenched. He rested his forehead against her temple and closed his eyes.
"I love you. You're doing great, sweetheart. I love you so much."
"Love you, too," she whispered back breathlessly.
"Okay, doing great, Monica, we have a head. And we're pushing again. That's good," he encouraged her, suddenly pausing. "Okay, wait, Monica, stop pushing."
"Stop? God, I really wish you people would make up your minds..."
"Abby! Get Dr. Langston in here. Now!" Monica opened her eyes and stared down at him.
"What?" Chandler demanded. "What's going on?"
"Nothing, sir. Relax. Dr. Langston is the head of the OB department." Chandler stared at him, not believing him but not wanting to alarm Monica by pressing it. Suddenly the nurse, Abby, burst back into the room with an older doctor in tow.
"What's going on, Bob?" he demanded of the doctor, putting on latex gloves.
"Possible shoulder dystocia," he said urgently.
"Stats?"
"Thirty-year-old mother, 35 weeks, fully dilated, presented with progressing delivery and close contractions."
"Fetal heart rate?"
"Down to 120 from 140."
"Is that bad?" Chandler asked, trying to make sense of the medical lingo.
"As long as it stays between 120 and 160, we're fine," the doctor assured him. "Okay, Bob, we're going to try rotating the posterior shoulder. Abby, stand by."
"What's going on?" Chandler demanded as he felt Monica tighten her grip on his hand and saw the worried look on her face.
"Sir, we have what's called a shoulder dystocia, which means the baby's shoulder is stuck on your wife's pelvic bone. We're going to try rotating it to get the baby out." Chandler nodded, having nothing else to say, once again placing his forehead against Monica's temple.
"It'll be okay. You're so amazing," he whispered. "I love you." Monica nodded, her eyes filling with tears as she tried to concentrate on what the doctors were doing.
"I can't free the shoulder," Dr. Langston said after a moment, the urgency clear in his voice. "Abby, call OB and get a cesarean tray."
"Cesarean?" Monica asked in a small voice.
"Ma'am, we can't free the shoulder, and if we wait too long we run the risk of brain damage." Monica's breath caught in her throat as the tears fell and Chandler put his arm protectively around her.
"It'll be okay," he reassured her. "It'll all be fine."
"Sir, you'll have to wait outside," Dr. DeWitt said as he took Chandler's arm. Chandler whirled to face him, his face conveying his irritation.
"This is my wife and child! There is no way in hell you're throwing me out of here. I'm staying."
"Mr. Bing, we need to be able to operate on your wife. You need to wait outside." Chandler was vaguely aware of Abby taking a hold of his arm. He leaned over Monica, noting the worry in her eyes.
"I'll be right outside," he whispered, kissing her on the lips and hating the idea of leaving her alone. "I love you."
"Mr. Bing," the doctor said warningly, knowing that every moment they waited was another moment closer to danger. Chandler nodded, looking at Monica lovingly and then stepping outside the delivery room.
"Chandler!" Before he had time to think, Ross descended on him, followed closely by Rachel, Phoebe, and Joey.
"Hey, guys," he said absently.
"What's going on?" Phoebe asked.
"They kicked me out," he said shortly. "They have to do a C-section."
"Oh God... is everything okay?" Ross asked.
Chandler shrugged. "They said the baby's shoulder was stuck on Mon's pelvic bone or something and that they'd have to do a cesarean." He began to lose his cool. "Then they said something about brain damage and if they waited..." He trailed off, terrified. "What do I do?" he asked helplessly.
"Okay, man, it's okay," Joey said comfortingly, placing his arm over his best friend's shoulder. "Come on." He led Chandler toward the chairs across the hall and sat next to him.
"You want some coffee sweetie?" Rachel asked gently. Chandler shook his head silently as he began to rock slightly, waiting to hear from the doctors.
Monica stared up at the bright fluorescent lights above her and tried to listen to the doctors' voices above her. She tried to stop the tears that were rolling down her face and onto the sheet below her head, but found the combined emotions of fear and confusion too much to handle. She suddenly began to feel faint and she could vaguely hear a beeping noise that sounded very far off. She closed her eyes, ignoring the doctor's frantic voices urging her to open them as she slowly slipped into darkness, a darkness in which all she saw was a pair of calm blue eyes.
"Mrs. Bing? Dammit, she's seizing." Monica's body began to convulse as she went into an eclampsia-induced seizure. "Intubate!" the doctor barked. "Her pressure's skyrocketing!" They administered hydralazine to lower her pressure and Dr. Langston grabbed an instrument from the cesarean tray. "If we don't get the baby out, neither ONE of them will make it." He made the incision and a few moments later another monitor began to beep. "Shit! She's bleeding out. Abby, get 10 units of O-neg!" he ordered. A second later he removed the baby, clamped the umbilical cord, and handed it to the waiting pediatric nurse, who noticed that it was not breathing. She ordered another nurse to page the pediatric resident as she placed the infant on a table. The pediatric resident showed up almost immediately and intubated the baby as the nurse administered CPR.
"God, I don't know what to do!" Chandler cried as he paced up and down the corridor. "What do I DO? My wife has to have an operation because our baby is in trouble. GOD... screw Lamaze, they need to offer training for THIS!" Rachel rose and stood beside him.
"Calm down, hon, I'm sure she'll be fine. Just sit down, relax."
"How the hell can I relax?" he yelled. She stared at him and he sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm worried."
"I know, sweetie," she said softly. Suddenly the door of Monica's delivery room opened and the OB nurse wheeled out a small plastic trolley with a clear dome over it. Chandler stared at it, suddenly realizing that there was a baby inside.
"Wha-- Is-- Is that our baby?" he asked frantically. The nurse nodded.
"Congratulations, sir, you have a baby girl. But we need to get her up to the NICU."
"Why? What's wrong with her?" Chandler demanded.
"Nothing, your daughter is fine now, but there were some complications during delivery and we need to keep her under observation."
"What about my wife?" he pleaded.
"They're still working on her," the nurse said.
"What? Why? The baby's out, right? All done. Why are they still working on her? Is something wrong?"
"The doctor will be out as soon as possible. Right now I need to get your daughter upstairs," she said firmly. Chandler watched them go as he turned helplessly to face his friends, his anxiety written clearly across his face.
"It'll be okay," Rach whispered, rubbing his back and hoping that she was right.
"EKG's showing multifocal PVCs," Dr. DeWitt said to Dr. Langston. "Pressure's down."
"I know," Langston replied, bagging her manually. Suddenly the monitor began to beep again. "Lost the pulse!" he yelled, grabbing the defibrillation paddles. "Charge to 260!" He waited a moment and shocked her, watching the EKG intently for any blips. When none appeared, he nodded to the nurse. "300!" He shocked her again with no result. "360! Clear!" The third shock resulted in no change either, and Dr. DeWitt stared at the attending, awaiting further instruction. "How long's she been down?" Langston demanded.
"Thirty minutes, sir," he replied.
"Start the external heart massage," he ordered. Twelve minutes later, as he stared blankly at the EKG, which was still showing a flatline, he sighed.
"Stop compressions." He glanced at the clock. "Time of death, 18:57." He glanced down at Monica and angrily ripped off his latex gloves, throwing them on the floor and storming out of the delivery room.
As the door opened, Chandler jumped up from his seat and approached the doctor. "Can I see her now?" he asked anxiously.
The doctor swallowed. "Mr. Bing, I need to speak with you for a moment." Chandler felt his heart leap into his throat and he tried to swallow.
"Why? What happened?"
"Sir, there were some complications with your wife's delivery."
"I know that," he interrupted. "That's why you had to do a C-section." The doctor shook his head.
"No, sir, I mean there were more complications. After we began the C-section."
"What-- What kind of complications?" he asked hesitantly, feeling Rachel grip his arm and feeling the presence of the rest of his friends behind him.
"Well, when we began the cesarean section, she had a seizure, which is a sign of a condition in pregnant women called eclampsia. We had to intubate her and her blood pressure skyrocketed." Chandler swallowed.
"She bled out and her heartbeat stopped." Chandler's breath caught in his throat. "We tried to get it going again, but we couldn't."
"What are you saying?" he asked in a small voice.
"Mr. Bing, I'm very sorry, but your wife died." He felt as though the words were a sword driven right through him. He tried to make sense of the situation, but his mind was racing and he found that he couldn't breathe.
"What do you mean, she DIED?" he demanded. "She was pregnant, not SICK! She can't be dead! She's going to be FINE!" The doctor remained quiet as Chandler raged on, ignoring the tears that were now streaming down his face. "I NEED her! She's my wife! We have a new baby!" He felt Rachel's hand on his arm and he turned to face her, looking into her already tear-stained face. "Rach," he said desperately. She hugged him wordlessly as her own tears ran down her cheeks. He allowed her to hug him for a moment before pushing her away. "No. Not Monica. Not my Monica." He looked around at the four faces, all reading expressions of pain, although he was certain none of them could possibly be feeling what he was feeling. "No! I-- I need-- to get out." He blindly stumbled down the corridor and into the restroom where he collapsed into one of the stalls and threw up the ice cream he'd eaten only hours ago. He sank onto the floor, his body convulsing with sobs as he tried in vain to make sense of the situation. He realized that the only thing that could ease his pain would be Monica's arms around him, and he knew, in that instant, that if he could never be in her embrace again, he could never be happy again either.
"Chandler?" He quickly flushed the toilet and rose from the cool floor of the hospital bathroom. He emerged from the stall, his face red and puffy and his eyes swollen. He looked at Joey silently before going to the sink to splash cold water on his face. Joey handed him a wad of paper towels, fighting the tears that threatened to resurface. He knew that the last thing Chandler needed was to deal with someone else's pain. "Ross sent me to see if you were okay."
"Of course I'm not fucking okay!" Chandler exploded. "My wife, my Monica, my best friend, the only woman I've ever been totally in love with, and the mother of my child is DEAD! How the hell could I be okay?" Joey hung his head sadly and Chandler sighed. "Sorry, Joe."
Joey shook his head. "No, man, I'm sorry. For everything."
Chandler drew a shaky breath as his eyes once again filled. "Joey," he said, his voice strangled. "I just don't know what to do. I can't... I can't exist without her. I just can't. She's been my entire life, and now she's gone..." The tears spilled over. "I can't survive without her."
"You have to," he replied sadly. "You're a father now. There's someone else who needs you, too." Chandler covered his face with his hands.
"I can't be a father. I mean, I was excited about being a dad, and I thought I could do it, but that was only because I had Monica beside me to be the mom. But now..." His voice trailed off and he shook his head. "I can't do it alone."
"Have you seen her?" he asked after a moment.
"Who?"
"The baby."
Chandler shook his head. "Not really. Once when they were wheeling her upstairs right after she was delivered."
"You should see her."
"What about Monica?" he asked. He didn't know if he could handle seeing her dead, but he knew he just had to try. Joey shrugged.
"I think they're cleaning her up." Chandler shoved his way past him and into the hallway. He walked past the pained and concerned eyes of his friends and into the room where Monica had gone into labor, gasping when he saw one of the nurses wheeling the EKG monitors away, having cleaned up already.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
"That--" Chandler swallowed the lump in his throat. "That's my wife." The nurse's eyes softened and she nodded slightly.
"I'm sorry." She left quietly, giving him a few moments alone with Monica. Chandler approached the table slowly, almost as though she were asleep and he didn't want to wake her. But in that moment, he wanted her to open her eyes more than anything.
"Monica," he breathed, his eyes filling again and the tears flowing. "Oh, God, Monica..." He sat in the stool that he'd been sitting in not more than an hour ago and buried his face in her neck. The skin was cool, and he cried harder at the realization that he'd never again bury his face in the warmth of her neck and kiss the soft skin as he made love to her. He'd never get to see the special smile that she wore just for him and he'd never again get to feel her kisses, the kisses that had made his life worth living. Never again would he get to wake up next to her or fall asleep with his arms wrapped around her, and he'd never get to hear her tell him that she loved him again. His body shook with the sobs, and he tried to breathe deeply, aching for at least one more hint of the smell that had become so soothing and familiar. He caught a faint trace of what he'd christened the "Monica smell" -- her soap, shampoo, and perfume, and instead of making him feel better it only made his heartache more severe.
He pulled away from her neck and gazed down at her pale face. "I love you," he whispered fiercely. "Love you forever and ever." It reminded him of a line he'd once heard and he leaned in and whispered it in her ear: "Together forever, never apart, maybe in distance, but never in heart." He kissed her lips gently, trying to pretend that he could feel her kissing him back. "I love you, Monica. Always." He squeezed her hand and kissed her once more. He took one last look at her beautiful face and tore his gaze away from her, walking out of the room and collapsing into sobs the moment he stepped outside the door.
Rachel ran up to him and tried to hug him, but he pushed her away. "No. I have to see the baby." She nodded understandingly and took hold of his arm, guiding him toward the elevator while the others continued to wait in the waiting room. Ross was sobbing as Phoebe tried to comfort him and Joey was staring mutely at the wall.
As they stepped out onto the ICU floor, she pointed to the sign that directed them toward the neonatal ICU. He nodded numbly and allowed her to lead him there. He paused outside the door and took a shaky breath, his eyes still misty.
"Do you want me to wait out here?" Rachel asked softly. He shook his head.
"Come with me?" he pleaded. She nodded and entered the NICU behind him.
"Can I help you?" a nurse asked.
"YES! YOU CAN BRING MY WIFE BACK!" he wanted to yell. But he simply stared at her, and said "Bing baby" so quietly that she could barely hear him. She nodded and pointed toward the nearest cot.
"She's right there."
Rachel kept a hold of his arm as they approached the tiny plastic crib, and she heard him hold his breath as they looked at the baby within. She was tiny, and as she yawned Rachel felt her eyes fill with tears at the knowledge that Monica would never get to see her daughter.
"Do you want to hold her?" The nurse's voice cut through their thoughts as she smiled. "She's fine now. A little unstable at first, but she's going to be just fine." She leaned in as if to pick the baby up, but was cut off by Chandler.
"No." She paused, surprised.
"Sir?"
"I-- I can't hold her. I don't know what to do. The first person to hold her should be her mother."
"Chandler." Rachel's voice was gentle as she tried to fight back her own tears. "Hold your daughter." He turned to face her, his own eyes brimming.
"Rach--"
"I know, sweetie. But you're still a daddy." He looked at her for a moment longer before turning and nodding to the nurse. She pulled a chair up by the crib and Chandler sat down, with Rachel still standing next to him. The nurse gently placed the baby in his arms and smiled as she walked away.
"She's beautiful, Chandler," Rach whispered as she tried to dry her eyes.
"Just like her mother," he whispered, his voice shaking. He began to rock as he cried, holding the only child he would ever have to remind him of Monica. The child whose arrival filled him with such an intense combination of joy and grief that he didn't know what to do or feel.
"What are you going to name her?" Rachel asked after a moment.
"Sarah Elizabeth Bing," he said quietly.
"Beautiful name for a beautiful girl," she said.
Chandler nodded. "That was Monica's choice," he whispered as he gazed down. "And she was right. It's perfect." He allowed his tears to dampen the baby blanket as he held his daughter, trying to draw comfort from the tiny bundle.
**END OF FLASHBACK**
"He was afraid to hold me?" Sarah asked quietly, drying the tears that dampened her cheeks.
"Yeah," Rachel said quietly. "He didn't have much experience with babies, and he didn't know what to do." She smiled slightly. "God, he was so nervous about having you. The whole time your mom was pregnant, he would have these almost panic attacks because he thought he was going to be a horrible father and that he'd screw you up."
"How'd you get him to calm down?"
"It was usually your mom who calmed him down," she said after a moment. "She always said that they were a team and that they'd get through anything." She paused. "I never remembered that until now. He was so afraid of being a single dad... he'd always thought that Monica would be there with him and then..." She trailed off.
"I wish I could remember her," Sarah said quietly after a moment of silence. Rach smiled sadly.
"Well, we all have stories about her. I mean, your Uncle Ross can tell you about when she was a kid, and me and Phoebe can tell you about when we each lived with her, and your dad has tons of stories about after I moved out."
"I wish he'd tell them," Sarah said sadly.
"It's just hard for him, sweetie," Rach said gently.
"I know. But it's hard for me, too! I mean, I know he lost his wife, but I lost my mother. Not only did I lose my mother, but..." She paused. "I never even knew my mother. Added to which... my father can't handle talking about her."
Rachel sighed. "I know sweetheart. I know." They sat in silence and finished their hot chocolate, each lost in her own thoughts.
END OF PART ONE. I KNOW WE DIDN'T SEE MUCH (WELL, ANY) OF THE 2018 CHANDLER IN THIS FIC, BUT HE'LL SHOW UP SOON! PROMISE! THIS WAS TO GET THE BALL ROLLING, LOL. PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS AND THE OVERALL IDEA... OR AT LEAST WHAT YOU CAN GRASP OF IT SO FAR... LET ME KNOW! THANKS FOR READING! :-)
AND, ON A DIFFERENT NOTE: DOES ANYONE FIND THIS NEW SEPARATION OF NEW STORIES AND UPDATED CHAPTERS CONFUSING? I DO... THEN AGAIN, I'M NOT THAT BRIGHT, LOL. :-) JUST THOUGHT I'D VENT. OK, YOU CAN READ IT NOW.
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THESE CHARACTERS. WELL, NOT THE SIX FAMOUS ONES, ANYWAY. THE ONES WHOSE NAMES DON'T RING ANY BELLS PROBABLY BELONG TO ME (AND ARE THEREFORE FAR LESS WELL-DEVELOPED, LOL).
Sarah sighed as she opened the front door to her apartment and realized, as she did most nights, that it was dark and no one was home. She dumped her books and her bag on the couch and bent over the answering machine. When she saw that it was flashing, she hit the button and listened as her father's voice filled the room.
"Hey, Sarah, it's Dad. Listen, I've got to go out for dinner with Doug, so I'll probably be home late. There's money in the top drawer of my dresser if you want to order pizza, or you can go to Ross and Rachel's for dinner if you want to. I called them and they said that they'd love to have you, so give them a call if you want. I've got my 'cell phone if you need me. Bye." There was a click and the electronic voice of the machine informed her that she had no other messages. She glanced around the dark apartment once more and, ultimately deciding that she didn't feel like another night of dinner alone, she grabbed her jacket and headed over to her uncle's house.
"Hey, sweetie!" Sarah smiled as her Aunt Rachel opened the door and gave her a hug. "How was school?" she asked, taking her jacket.
"Schoolish," Sarah replied bluntly. "Only six months left until graduation. I can't wait." Rachel smiled.
"So how are the college applications coming along?"
Sarah groaned. "That is quite possibly the most tedious of tasks. I mean, I have no idea what my greatest achievement is... hell, I'm only seventeen! To be perfectly honest, I'm proud of the fact that I'm not a doped-up teenage mother... that in itself is beating some odds." Rachel smiled. Her goddaughter undoubtedly had her father's wit. "Where's Uncle Ross?"
"In the kitchen," she said, shooing her toward the back of the house. "I put him in charge of dinner tonight."
"Oh, man... maybe I should just get pizza, after all."
Rach smiled. "Actually, he's getting better. Tonight I requested spaghetti. Tough one to screw up."
Sarah grinned. "I wouldn't put it past him."
"I heard that!" Sarah smiled as she walked into the bright kitchen. "Hey, kiddo." He kissed his niece on top of the head and returned his attention to the task at hand.
"Hey, Uncle Ross. Just kidding. Dad said it would be okay if I joined you guys." Ross nodded.
"Of course! If you can put up with us for an evening."
She laughed. "Anything's better than pizza alone with just the TV for conversation." She noticed a sad look cross Rachel's face and she immediately felt bad. "Wow, I really am a weird teenager... most kids would kill for that!" she said, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. A somewhat awkward pause followed before Ross suggested that Rachel grab the garlic bread out of the oven. Sarah raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Garlic bread?" Rach grinned.
"Frozen stuff," she whispered. "Minimal cooking required." Ross glared at her as Sarah laughed.
"So... how's Ben?" she asked, leaning against the counter.
"He's doing well," Ross replied. "Still looking for, and I quote, 'the right job.' But he's fine... the first year after college is never easy." Sarah nodded. Although Ben was 24, they'd always gotten on really well, even when they were kids. She figured that was to be expected, given that she practically grew up at her aunt and uncle's house. "Okay, well, this is ready, I think." Ross scooped out a noodle and threw it at the wall, smiling when it stuck. "Yep. Ready."
Rachel rolled her eyes and sighed. "The mark of a true chef. Monica must have really rubbed off on you." She paused and glanced at Sarah, who offered a small smile. The three were silent for a moment before Rach clapped her hands. "Okay! Sit, people!" Sarah sank into one of the chairs at the table and smiled, glad that they'd offered to have her over. As much as she liked being alone sometimes, dinner alone got old.
"I'm going to check on Nicholas," Ross informed them after they'd cleared the plates away. Rachel nodded and Ross left the kitchen to look in on their 2-year-old son. Sarah smiled absently as he left.
"How's Nick?" Rachel sighed.
"Well, I know what they mean by 'terrible two's' now," she mused. "Everything's a 'no.' But Ross said Ben was the same way, so at least I know he's normal. Either that, or it's just a Geller thing." Sarah smiled.
"Amazing that even when you want to kill them, they're still so cute."
Rachel laughed. "Tell me about it. Sometimes I try to be so strict, but he gives me that look and I can't help giving in."
"I always wanted a little brother," Sarah mused in a far-off voice. Rachel smiled slightly.
"Yeah, well, sometimes younger siblings can be hell. Trust me. My younger sister, Jill... ugh... nightmare." Sarah smiled again. "You want some hot chocolate, sweetie?"
"Sure." Rachel nodded and made them each a cup and then suggested they go into the den, to which Sarah agreed.
"So, where are you applying?" Rach asked as they sank into the couch.
"Well, at the moment I think just NYU, Boston College, UCLA, and Florida State." Rachel raised her eyebrows.
"Wow. Talk about trans-continental." Sarah nodded. "Which one's your first choice?"
"UCLA."
"Wow," she said again. "Pretty far."
"Yeah. I want to get out of here."
"What does your father say about that?"
"What does he ever say? I only applied to NYU because he wanted me to apply to at least one school here, but if I get in anywhere else, I'm out of here."
Rachel smiled sadly. "He's going to miss you next year."
"Hmph. He'll probably see me more next year than he does now," she scoffed. She felt immediately guilty when Rachel looked at her sadly. "Sorry."
"Oh, sweetie, it's okay. I know you... don't entirely understand him, but trust me. He loves you more than you will ever know."
Sarah sighed as she turned her mug around in her hands. "Yeah, well... you'd never know it from my end." She looked up. "Sorry, that sounds so self-pitying. I just... I wish that he'd just... I don't know... act like he cared. He's just... so... nonchalant. Cut off."
"I know, sweetie."
Sarah looked at her carefully and was silent for a moment before she spoke again. "What happened that day?" Rachel gazed at her, slightly surprised.
"What day?"
"The day I was born," she said carefully.
Rach shifted uneasily. "Um, look, hon, I think this is a discussion you and your father should have."
"Please, Aunt Rachel. All I know is what he thought I needed to know. Nothing... explanatory." Rach sighed.
"Okay, if you're sure you want to hear this, I'll tell you."
Sarah nodded. "I'm sure."
"All right. Well, you know your parents had been married for a year..."
**FLASHBACK**
"Hi, sweetheart!" Chandler grinned as he entered the apartment.
"Hi, yourself," he replied, bending over the back of the couch and kissing her on the forehead. "And hello to you," he said, rubbing her bump. "What did you two do today?"
Monica groaned. "Absolutely nothing. I have cabin fever," she complained as she shifted slightly. Chandler smiled.
"Well, would my beautiful wife and my unborn child like to go out for a walk?" He laughed when Monica's eyes lit up like a child who had found a new toy.
"Yes!" she yelped, trying to stand, smiling gratefully when he helped her off the couch. "Let's go!"
"Sweetie, you might want to bring a jacket."
"Chandler, it's the middle of May. I'm not going to need a jacket."
"Please?" he said, giving her the puppy-eyes that drove her crazy simply because she could never say no to them. "Just in case it gets chilly."
"Oh, all right," she said, sighing. "I swear, you'd think I was made of glass, never mind pregnant." He smiled.
"Very pregnant," he corrected her.
"Why, thank you. I was unaware of that, even though I'm fat, moody, and constantly have swollen ankles." He smiled.
"Just thought you'd like to hear Dr. Bing's diagnosis."
"Well, thanks. I'll keep it in mind." He grinned again as he opened the door for her, following her as she waddled out.
"I still like Nicholas," Monica said, licking the ice cream cone Chandler had gotten her from the nearby vendor as they sat on a bench in the park.
"Yeah, I like Nicholas. I just think that Alexander sounds better with 'Bing.'" After a thoughtful silence, Monica nodded.
"Yeah, I guess you're right about that. Alexander Bing. Alex." She nodded again. "Okay, Alexander for a boy. What about the girl names?"
"I'm sticking by Mackenzie Elizabeth."
"Sarah Elizabeth."
"Mackenzie."
"Sarah."
"Hey, we went with your boy's name!" Chandler argued.
"Right. Which proves I'm better at picking names," Monica countered. Chandler rolled his eyes.
"We'll just see. We still have time yet."
"Yeah. Probably hours." He smiled, sobering when he noted that a funny expression had crossed her face.
"Mon?"
"Um, yeah. That hurt."
He jumped up, dumping his half-eaten ice cream cone in the trash can next to them. "Hurt? What hurt? The baby? Baby hurt?"
"Um, sweetheart? Help me up." Chandler obliged, taking her arm and helping her stand. As she rose, her water suddenly broke. "Okay, yeah. Hospital time."
"Oh, God," Chandler yelped. "Hospital! Okay. Um." He paused, looking at Monica for instruction before he snapped his fingers. "Cab!" He went to run toward the street, stopping when he heard Monica calling him. He turned to see her waddling toward him slowly, hands on her stomach. "Oh, right!" He ran back toward her, gently taking hold of her arm and guiding her toward the street. He hailed a cab and helped her into the backseat, running around and jumping in the other side. "Beth Israel, please! Fast!" The driver took a quick look at the very pregnant Monica and nodded, registering what was going on.
"Hold on, I'll have you there in no time!" Tires squealing, he pulled away from the curb and began the weaving in and out of traffic of the city streets.
"Good luck, man!" the cabbie yelled as Chandler helped Monica out of the car.
"Thanks!" Chandler replied as he slammed the cab door and guided Monica into the hospital. He grabbed the nearest person in scrubs.
"Pregnant lady. Baby coming. Coming now." He paused as the guy simply stared at him. "Help!" he yelled, exasperated.
"Well, my first words of advice would be to find an actual doctor," the guy suggested. "I'm just a patient. Well, my wife is. Just had a baby myself."
"Congratulations," Monica offered, breathing heavily.
"Thanks," he said, smiling. "Talk to that woman," he offered, pointing toward the nurses' station. Chandler guided Monica to the desk and turned to the woman sitting behind it. Before he could speak, the woman held up her hand.
"Yes, sir, I heard. Name?"
"Depends on if it's a boy or a girl," he replied, exasperated. "We haven't got time for this!"
"Sir, I meant your wife's name," she explained.
"Oh," he said sheepishly. "Monica Bing." She nodded and waved to a passing nurse.
"Abby, take Mrs. Bing and get her ready for delivery. Mr. Bing? John will take you to get some scrubs." Chandler nodded and leaned toward Monica.
"I'll be right back, babe," he said softly, kissing her lightly on the forehead before following the retreating doctor.
"Hi, Monica, I'm Dr. DeWitt."
"Hello," she replied, breathing heavily.
"I see you're doing your Lamaze breathing, that's excellent," he said as he looked at her chart. Chandler entered, decked out in pale blue hospital scrubs, and immediately took his place next to the delivery table.
"Hey, babe," he whispered, kissing her forehead, which was already damp with sweat. "I called the guys. They're on the way." She nodded, eyes closed as she waited for the contraction to pass. He gently brushed away the hair that was sticking to her forehead and kissed her again. She allowed her head to fall back as she opened her eyes and smiled up at him.
"Wow," she said, low enough so that the doctor couldn't hear.
"What?"
"You look all sexy in those."
Chandler grinned. "You know, missy, it's exactly that kind of thinking that got you into this situation."
She smiled back. "Yeah, well, as I seem to remember it, you were there, too."
He grinned again. "Don't I know it."
"Okay, Monica," the doctor interrupted. "On the next one we're going to push, okay?"
"We?" Monica inquired. "Wow, modern technology. Now labor is a group effort."
Chandler stared at her for a moment. "I think you've been around me too long. Sarcasm's starting to rub off." She rolled her eyes.
"Okay, doctor, push we shall." A few minutes later another contraction hit, and Monica pushed, squeezing Chandler's hand and closing her eyes tightly, her jaw clenched. He rested his forehead against her temple and closed his eyes.
"I love you. You're doing great, sweetheart. I love you so much."
"Love you, too," she whispered back breathlessly.
"Okay, doing great, Monica, we have a head. And we're pushing again. That's good," he encouraged her, suddenly pausing. "Okay, wait, Monica, stop pushing."
"Stop? God, I really wish you people would make up your minds..."
"Abby! Get Dr. Langston in here. Now!" Monica opened her eyes and stared down at him.
"What?" Chandler demanded. "What's going on?"
"Nothing, sir. Relax. Dr. Langston is the head of the OB department." Chandler stared at him, not believing him but not wanting to alarm Monica by pressing it. Suddenly the nurse, Abby, burst back into the room with an older doctor in tow.
"What's going on, Bob?" he demanded of the doctor, putting on latex gloves.
"Possible shoulder dystocia," he said urgently.
"Stats?"
"Thirty-year-old mother, 35 weeks, fully dilated, presented with progressing delivery and close contractions."
"Fetal heart rate?"
"Down to 120 from 140."
"Is that bad?" Chandler asked, trying to make sense of the medical lingo.
"As long as it stays between 120 and 160, we're fine," the doctor assured him. "Okay, Bob, we're going to try rotating the posterior shoulder. Abby, stand by."
"What's going on?" Chandler demanded as he felt Monica tighten her grip on his hand and saw the worried look on her face.
"Sir, we have what's called a shoulder dystocia, which means the baby's shoulder is stuck on your wife's pelvic bone. We're going to try rotating it to get the baby out." Chandler nodded, having nothing else to say, once again placing his forehead against Monica's temple.
"It'll be okay. You're so amazing," he whispered. "I love you." Monica nodded, her eyes filling with tears as she tried to concentrate on what the doctors were doing.
"I can't free the shoulder," Dr. Langston said after a moment, the urgency clear in his voice. "Abby, call OB and get a cesarean tray."
"Cesarean?" Monica asked in a small voice.
"Ma'am, we can't free the shoulder, and if we wait too long we run the risk of brain damage." Monica's breath caught in her throat as the tears fell and Chandler put his arm protectively around her.
"It'll be okay," he reassured her. "It'll all be fine."
"Sir, you'll have to wait outside," Dr. DeWitt said as he took Chandler's arm. Chandler whirled to face him, his face conveying his irritation.
"This is my wife and child! There is no way in hell you're throwing me out of here. I'm staying."
"Mr. Bing, we need to be able to operate on your wife. You need to wait outside." Chandler was vaguely aware of Abby taking a hold of his arm. He leaned over Monica, noting the worry in her eyes.
"I'll be right outside," he whispered, kissing her on the lips and hating the idea of leaving her alone. "I love you."
"Mr. Bing," the doctor said warningly, knowing that every moment they waited was another moment closer to danger. Chandler nodded, looking at Monica lovingly and then stepping outside the delivery room.
"Chandler!" Before he had time to think, Ross descended on him, followed closely by Rachel, Phoebe, and Joey.
"Hey, guys," he said absently.
"What's going on?" Phoebe asked.
"They kicked me out," he said shortly. "They have to do a C-section."
"Oh God... is everything okay?" Ross asked.
Chandler shrugged. "They said the baby's shoulder was stuck on Mon's pelvic bone or something and that they'd have to do a cesarean." He began to lose his cool. "Then they said something about brain damage and if they waited..." He trailed off, terrified. "What do I do?" he asked helplessly.
"Okay, man, it's okay," Joey said comfortingly, placing his arm over his best friend's shoulder. "Come on." He led Chandler toward the chairs across the hall and sat next to him.
"You want some coffee sweetie?" Rachel asked gently. Chandler shook his head silently as he began to rock slightly, waiting to hear from the doctors.
Monica stared up at the bright fluorescent lights above her and tried to listen to the doctors' voices above her. She tried to stop the tears that were rolling down her face and onto the sheet below her head, but found the combined emotions of fear and confusion too much to handle. She suddenly began to feel faint and she could vaguely hear a beeping noise that sounded very far off. She closed her eyes, ignoring the doctor's frantic voices urging her to open them as she slowly slipped into darkness, a darkness in which all she saw was a pair of calm blue eyes.
"Mrs. Bing? Dammit, she's seizing." Monica's body began to convulse as she went into an eclampsia-induced seizure. "Intubate!" the doctor barked. "Her pressure's skyrocketing!" They administered hydralazine to lower her pressure and Dr. Langston grabbed an instrument from the cesarean tray. "If we don't get the baby out, neither ONE of them will make it." He made the incision and a few moments later another monitor began to beep. "Shit! She's bleeding out. Abby, get 10 units of O-neg!" he ordered. A second later he removed the baby, clamped the umbilical cord, and handed it to the waiting pediatric nurse, who noticed that it was not breathing. She ordered another nurse to page the pediatric resident as she placed the infant on a table. The pediatric resident showed up almost immediately and intubated the baby as the nurse administered CPR.
"God, I don't know what to do!" Chandler cried as he paced up and down the corridor. "What do I DO? My wife has to have an operation because our baby is in trouble. GOD... screw Lamaze, they need to offer training for THIS!" Rachel rose and stood beside him.
"Calm down, hon, I'm sure she'll be fine. Just sit down, relax."
"How the hell can I relax?" he yelled. She stared at him and he sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm worried."
"I know, sweetie," she said softly. Suddenly the door of Monica's delivery room opened and the OB nurse wheeled out a small plastic trolley with a clear dome over it. Chandler stared at it, suddenly realizing that there was a baby inside.
"Wha-- Is-- Is that our baby?" he asked frantically. The nurse nodded.
"Congratulations, sir, you have a baby girl. But we need to get her up to the NICU."
"Why? What's wrong with her?" Chandler demanded.
"Nothing, your daughter is fine now, but there were some complications during delivery and we need to keep her under observation."
"What about my wife?" he pleaded.
"They're still working on her," the nurse said.
"What? Why? The baby's out, right? All done. Why are they still working on her? Is something wrong?"
"The doctor will be out as soon as possible. Right now I need to get your daughter upstairs," she said firmly. Chandler watched them go as he turned helplessly to face his friends, his anxiety written clearly across his face.
"It'll be okay," Rach whispered, rubbing his back and hoping that she was right.
"EKG's showing multifocal PVCs," Dr. DeWitt said to Dr. Langston. "Pressure's down."
"I know," Langston replied, bagging her manually. Suddenly the monitor began to beep again. "Lost the pulse!" he yelled, grabbing the defibrillation paddles. "Charge to 260!" He waited a moment and shocked her, watching the EKG intently for any blips. When none appeared, he nodded to the nurse. "300!" He shocked her again with no result. "360! Clear!" The third shock resulted in no change either, and Dr. DeWitt stared at the attending, awaiting further instruction. "How long's she been down?" Langston demanded.
"Thirty minutes, sir," he replied.
"Start the external heart massage," he ordered. Twelve minutes later, as he stared blankly at the EKG, which was still showing a flatline, he sighed.
"Stop compressions." He glanced at the clock. "Time of death, 18:57." He glanced down at Monica and angrily ripped off his latex gloves, throwing them on the floor and storming out of the delivery room.
As the door opened, Chandler jumped up from his seat and approached the doctor. "Can I see her now?" he asked anxiously.
The doctor swallowed. "Mr. Bing, I need to speak with you for a moment." Chandler felt his heart leap into his throat and he tried to swallow.
"Why? What happened?"
"Sir, there were some complications with your wife's delivery."
"I know that," he interrupted. "That's why you had to do a C-section." The doctor shook his head.
"No, sir, I mean there were more complications. After we began the C-section."
"What-- What kind of complications?" he asked hesitantly, feeling Rachel grip his arm and feeling the presence of the rest of his friends behind him.
"Well, when we began the cesarean section, she had a seizure, which is a sign of a condition in pregnant women called eclampsia. We had to intubate her and her blood pressure skyrocketed." Chandler swallowed.
"She bled out and her heartbeat stopped." Chandler's breath caught in his throat. "We tried to get it going again, but we couldn't."
"What are you saying?" he asked in a small voice.
"Mr. Bing, I'm very sorry, but your wife died." He felt as though the words were a sword driven right through him. He tried to make sense of the situation, but his mind was racing and he found that he couldn't breathe.
"What do you mean, she DIED?" he demanded. "She was pregnant, not SICK! She can't be dead! She's going to be FINE!" The doctor remained quiet as Chandler raged on, ignoring the tears that were now streaming down his face. "I NEED her! She's my wife! We have a new baby!" He felt Rachel's hand on his arm and he turned to face her, looking into her already tear-stained face. "Rach," he said desperately. She hugged him wordlessly as her own tears ran down her cheeks. He allowed her to hug him for a moment before pushing her away. "No. Not Monica. Not my Monica." He looked around at the four faces, all reading expressions of pain, although he was certain none of them could possibly be feeling what he was feeling. "No! I-- I need-- to get out." He blindly stumbled down the corridor and into the restroom where he collapsed into one of the stalls and threw up the ice cream he'd eaten only hours ago. He sank onto the floor, his body convulsing with sobs as he tried in vain to make sense of the situation. He realized that the only thing that could ease his pain would be Monica's arms around him, and he knew, in that instant, that if he could never be in her embrace again, he could never be happy again either.
"Chandler?" He quickly flushed the toilet and rose from the cool floor of the hospital bathroom. He emerged from the stall, his face red and puffy and his eyes swollen. He looked at Joey silently before going to the sink to splash cold water on his face. Joey handed him a wad of paper towels, fighting the tears that threatened to resurface. He knew that the last thing Chandler needed was to deal with someone else's pain. "Ross sent me to see if you were okay."
"Of course I'm not fucking okay!" Chandler exploded. "My wife, my Monica, my best friend, the only woman I've ever been totally in love with, and the mother of my child is DEAD! How the hell could I be okay?" Joey hung his head sadly and Chandler sighed. "Sorry, Joe."
Joey shook his head. "No, man, I'm sorry. For everything."
Chandler drew a shaky breath as his eyes once again filled. "Joey," he said, his voice strangled. "I just don't know what to do. I can't... I can't exist without her. I just can't. She's been my entire life, and now she's gone..." The tears spilled over. "I can't survive without her."
"You have to," he replied sadly. "You're a father now. There's someone else who needs you, too." Chandler covered his face with his hands.
"I can't be a father. I mean, I was excited about being a dad, and I thought I could do it, but that was only because I had Monica beside me to be the mom. But now..." His voice trailed off and he shook his head. "I can't do it alone."
"Have you seen her?" he asked after a moment.
"Who?"
"The baby."
Chandler shook his head. "Not really. Once when they were wheeling her upstairs right after she was delivered."
"You should see her."
"What about Monica?" he asked. He didn't know if he could handle seeing her dead, but he knew he just had to try. Joey shrugged.
"I think they're cleaning her up." Chandler shoved his way past him and into the hallway. He walked past the pained and concerned eyes of his friends and into the room where Monica had gone into labor, gasping when he saw one of the nurses wheeling the EKG monitors away, having cleaned up already.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
"That--" Chandler swallowed the lump in his throat. "That's my wife." The nurse's eyes softened and she nodded slightly.
"I'm sorry." She left quietly, giving him a few moments alone with Monica. Chandler approached the table slowly, almost as though she were asleep and he didn't want to wake her. But in that moment, he wanted her to open her eyes more than anything.
"Monica," he breathed, his eyes filling again and the tears flowing. "Oh, God, Monica..." He sat in the stool that he'd been sitting in not more than an hour ago and buried his face in her neck. The skin was cool, and he cried harder at the realization that he'd never again bury his face in the warmth of her neck and kiss the soft skin as he made love to her. He'd never get to see the special smile that she wore just for him and he'd never again get to feel her kisses, the kisses that had made his life worth living. Never again would he get to wake up next to her or fall asleep with his arms wrapped around her, and he'd never get to hear her tell him that she loved him again. His body shook with the sobs, and he tried to breathe deeply, aching for at least one more hint of the smell that had become so soothing and familiar. He caught a faint trace of what he'd christened the "Monica smell" -- her soap, shampoo, and perfume, and instead of making him feel better it only made his heartache more severe.
He pulled away from her neck and gazed down at her pale face. "I love you," he whispered fiercely. "Love you forever and ever." It reminded him of a line he'd once heard and he leaned in and whispered it in her ear: "Together forever, never apart, maybe in distance, but never in heart." He kissed her lips gently, trying to pretend that he could feel her kissing him back. "I love you, Monica. Always." He squeezed her hand and kissed her once more. He took one last look at her beautiful face and tore his gaze away from her, walking out of the room and collapsing into sobs the moment he stepped outside the door.
Rachel ran up to him and tried to hug him, but he pushed her away. "No. I have to see the baby." She nodded understandingly and took hold of his arm, guiding him toward the elevator while the others continued to wait in the waiting room. Ross was sobbing as Phoebe tried to comfort him and Joey was staring mutely at the wall.
As they stepped out onto the ICU floor, she pointed to the sign that directed them toward the neonatal ICU. He nodded numbly and allowed her to lead him there. He paused outside the door and took a shaky breath, his eyes still misty.
"Do you want me to wait out here?" Rachel asked softly. He shook his head.
"Come with me?" he pleaded. She nodded and entered the NICU behind him.
"Can I help you?" a nurse asked.
"YES! YOU CAN BRING MY WIFE BACK!" he wanted to yell. But he simply stared at her, and said "Bing baby" so quietly that she could barely hear him. She nodded and pointed toward the nearest cot.
"She's right there."
Rachel kept a hold of his arm as they approached the tiny plastic crib, and she heard him hold his breath as they looked at the baby within. She was tiny, and as she yawned Rachel felt her eyes fill with tears at the knowledge that Monica would never get to see her daughter.
"Do you want to hold her?" The nurse's voice cut through their thoughts as she smiled. "She's fine now. A little unstable at first, but she's going to be just fine." She leaned in as if to pick the baby up, but was cut off by Chandler.
"No." She paused, surprised.
"Sir?"
"I-- I can't hold her. I don't know what to do. The first person to hold her should be her mother."
"Chandler." Rachel's voice was gentle as she tried to fight back her own tears. "Hold your daughter." He turned to face her, his own eyes brimming.
"Rach--"
"I know, sweetie. But you're still a daddy." He looked at her for a moment longer before turning and nodding to the nurse. She pulled a chair up by the crib and Chandler sat down, with Rachel still standing next to him. The nurse gently placed the baby in his arms and smiled as she walked away.
"She's beautiful, Chandler," Rach whispered as she tried to dry her eyes.
"Just like her mother," he whispered, his voice shaking. He began to rock as he cried, holding the only child he would ever have to remind him of Monica. The child whose arrival filled him with such an intense combination of joy and grief that he didn't know what to do or feel.
"What are you going to name her?" Rachel asked after a moment.
"Sarah Elizabeth Bing," he said quietly.
"Beautiful name for a beautiful girl," she said.
Chandler nodded. "That was Monica's choice," he whispered as he gazed down. "And she was right. It's perfect." He allowed his tears to dampen the baby blanket as he held his daughter, trying to draw comfort from the tiny bundle.
**END OF FLASHBACK**
"He was afraid to hold me?" Sarah asked quietly, drying the tears that dampened her cheeks.
"Yeah," Rachel said quietly. "He didn't have much experience with babies, and he didn't know what to do." She smiled slightly. "God, he was so nervous about having you. The whole time your mom was pregnant, he would have these almost panic attacks because he thought he was going to be a horrible father and that he'd screw you up."
"How'd you get him to calm down?"
"It was usually your mom who calmed him down," she said after a moment. "She always said that they were a team and that they'd get through anything." She paused. "I never remembered that until now. He was so afraid of being a single dad... he'd always thought that Monica would be there with him and then..." She trailed off.
"I wish I could remember her," Sarah said quietly after a moment of silence. Rach smiled sadly.
"Well, we all have stories about her. I mean, your Uncle Ross can tell you about when she was a kid, and me and Phoebe can tell you about when we each lived with her, and your dad has tons of stories about after I moved out."
"I wish he'd tell them," Sarah said sadly.
"It's just hard for him, sweetie," Rach said gently.
"I know. But it's hard for me, too! I mean, I know he lost his wife, but I lost my mother. Not only did I lose my mother, but..." She paused. "I never even knew my mother. Added to which... my father can't handle talking about her."
Rachel sighed. "I know sweetheart. I know." They sat in silence and finished their hot chocolate, each lost in her own thoughts.
END OF PART ONE. I KNOW WE DIDN'T SEE MUCH (WELL, ANY) OF THE 2018 CHANDLER IN THIS FIC, BUT HE'LL SHOW UP SOON! PROMISE! THIS WAS TO GET THE BALL ROLLING, LOL. PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS AND THE OVERALL IDEA... OR AT LEAST WHAT YOU CAN GRASP OF IT SO FAR... LET ME KNOW! THANKS FOR READING! :-)