I'm in a Joni Mitchell mood so her song has inspired this fic. I shouldn't be starting a fic when my life is so crazy, but I'm going to anyway. I really just wanted to use this song. I love it. It starts out a little sad, and a little confusing, but hang in there. It'll get happier and not so confusing, I promise. So please review and list me the many things you love about Joni Mitchell or my fic....whichever one floats your boat.

Disclaimer: So the characters don't belong to me.....um, yeah.

She stared out the window at the tiny towns that they were passing. The car flew along the highway and she found herself playing the alphabet game, trying to find the letters in the billboards that they were passing. After all, no one was talking in the car. She really wasn't sure if it was because of his concentration on the road or if it was simply that he didn't want to talk to her. So she didn't talk either.

"Almost home," he finally broke the silence when a large sign told them that they were within 100 miles of home. "Another hour and half or so depending on traffic." She did not respond, but he saw her head nod, a curtain of black hair falling over her face. He looked over to the seat next to him and saw, much to his surprise and dismay, that she was crying. Her shoulders heaved as she sobbed.

"Hey," he said softly. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry," she wailed but didn't make any move to try and stop crying. The tears fell fast and landed in large drops onto her lap making her jeans darker where they had fallen. "I don't know why...I just..."

"What?" He pushed gently.

"I don't want to go home," she admitted. "I don't want to go back there and have to...." Her voice trailed off, but he understood. It was hard. She would have to go back to real life, and that just didn't seem possible at that point.

"I know," he said quietly. He pulled off the road and took her hand.

"It's ridiculous really," she continued. "Because I have to go back.....I just think...."

"I know." And did he ever. And she knew that he understood. She could see it in his eyes. She could see that he understood exactly what she was feeling. And for the first time in a long time she didn't feel as lonely.

Rows and flows of angel hair

and ice cream castles in the air

and feather canyons everywhere

I've looked at clouds that way

He helped pull her bags out of the trunk and handed them to her.

"Thanks," she said as she took them from him.

"No problem." She opened up the door when his voice stopped her. "If you ever...need anything. You know that I'm always right there. I might not be still right across the hall anymore, but I'm there." She dropped the bag that she was holding and threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

"If things were different," she exclaimed. "I really think that you and I could have been something special." With a sigh, she let go and picked up the strewn bags and opened the door and left him standing alone in the cold, New York, night. He shook his head and got back into the car and drove away. Away from her and away from the what if's. When he arrived at his apartment, he found the message light blinking on the answering machine. As surprising as this was, the message was even more surprising.

"Chandler? It's um...Ross? I was just wondering if you've heard from my sister. I guess, if you did, or if you do....could you call me?" Chandler had to give a slight laugh at the message and picked up the phone to dial Ross. Then he stopped. If Monica wanted to let him know that she was okay, wouldn't she have called him herself? How long ago did Ross leave this message? Maybe Monica had already called him. Chandler placed the phone back into the receiver and only vaguely listened to the other messages. The phone rang and he leaned over to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Chandler?" It was her. His heart began to beat a little faster. He remembered the last phone call he had gotten from her. He remembered hearing the sobbing on the other end the quiet voice asking him to come over to her apartment. He remembered walking into the apartment and finding her with the bottle of pills lying next to her. He shook his head. Stop thinking about those things, he thought to himself.

"Hi," he answered. "What's going on?"

"I just...I wanted to thank you for coming to get me," she explained.

"You're welcome."

"It just, it meant a lot that you'd come out there. I didn't want to have to face Ross, or even you know, Rachel or Phoebe...I just....I needed....just thanks." He smiled to himself. In truth he had felt privileged that she had chosen him to call.

"I told you already, that it wasn't a problem. Have you called your brother yet?"

"No, not yet. I don't want to talk to him yet. Why?"

"He called here."

"Oh...I'll call him later." There was silence on the line.

"Did you see anyone else yet?"

"Rachel. She came over. She had tried to cook," Monica gave a small laugh. He then realized how rare it was lately to hear that laugh. "It was pretty bad."

"I can imagine," he laughed with her.

"Anyway," she said. "Thanks again, and goodnight."

"Night Mon," he said hanging up the phone and sighing. What happened to his best friend?

but now they only block the sun

they rain and snow on everyone

so many things I would have done

but clouds got in my way

He noticed it, and so he was sure that she had. The way that they were treating her. As if she was glass that would break. They tried to talk about only happy things around her, and when someone would say something slightly negative the rest would flash them a look and they would cover their mouths and apologize. Chandler was becoming irritated with it, and he could only imagine how she was feeling.

"So Monica, how about we go shopping? Just the girls?" Rachel suggested.

"Thanks, Rachel," she said. "But no thanks. I'm just not in a shopping mood."

"Well, then how about a movie?" Joey offered. "We could all go see a movie." Monica managed a small smile.

"That's okay," she answered.

"There's that new exhibit at the museum," Ross suggested. "Want to go see it?"

"You know what? I'm just going to go home," Monica said gathering her things and leaving the coffeehouse. They all eyed each other, asking a silent question, who should go make sure that she was okay?

"Stop that," Chandler told them.

"Stop what?" Rachel asked.

"Stop treating her like a six-year-old. She's been through a lot, and we need to support her and not treat her differently, because she's still Monica." He said those words, but even he had to see fault in them. She was not still Monica. She had changed. But anyone who had gone through what she had was bound to have changed.

"Chandler, we're just trying to look out for her," Ross said.

"Yeah, well. I think we're just pushing her away." He threw a five down on the coffee table and left the coffeehouse. When he went to her apartment, he found it empty. He knew where she would have gone, and was not surprised to see her sitting in the park staring out at the lake. He sat down on the bench next to her.

"Monica?" She didn't turn her head but acknowledged he was there by placing a gloved hand on his leg.

"Were you voted the one to come make sure that I was okay?"

"No, I came on my own."

"Oh." She became silent again. "She loves the park, you know. The clouds. She loves the clouds. And the ducks....and....he used to take her to feed them...I don't....I can't without him...." She shook her head. "I don't know what to do." She looked at him finally and began to cry as he gathered her in his arms.

"I know Mon, I know." He just simply held her as she cried herself out.

I've looked at clouds from both sides now

from up and down and still somehow

it's cloud's illusions I recall

I really don't know clouds at all

She stood in line at the pharmacy waiting for her turn.

"Monica?" She heard a voice behind her. "Monica Geller?" She turned to see Janice standing there.

"Janice, hi," she said surprised.

"It's not Monica Geller, anymore huh? I heard that you got married." Well, clearly she hadn't heard the rest of the story.

"No, it's Monica Spencer."

"Congratulations," Janice said not noticing how Monica's face was crumbling and the tears were seconds away from spilling.

"I have to go," she managed and turned to leave.

"Monica? Are you okay?" Janice asked. No, she wasn't okay. She hadn't been okay in a long time. What was feeling okay like? Her head was spinning and she felt sick.

"I have to go," she repeated and ran out of the pharmacy without her medicine. It still hurt. Even after six months it still hurt. Well, she supposed it would hurt forever knowing that you were a widow at the age of thirty. And her baby, Lydia, her baby girl. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and just let the tears fall.

~*Are you confused? Well, don't fear, I will continue soon, but only if you review. How do you like it so far? I will explain what had happened to her, I swear. But you need to press that little button first. Thanks!~*