The Strength of Hope
This takes place during season five's TOW Chandler's Work Laugh immediately after that tennis match and then goes very AU. It's 3 or 4 parts (depending on how long the epilogue turns out to be) but the rest is all written.
A/N - Hey guys, sorry I've been AWOL for a while- it's been pretty hectic around here. I'm looking forward to getting back into 'Mondler life' and catching up on all your stories!
Chandler paced outside the changing rooms as he waited for her to finish, so they could finish this stupid argument. Doug and Kara had already limped out of the building, holding onto each other for support and Chandler had barely been able to keep the fake smile plastered on his face until they were safely out of sight.
"I can't believe you let them win," Monica complained the second she stepped out into the foyer and spotted him.
"And I can't believe you made it so difficult," he retorted pissed. "It was just a dumb game for you, it didn't mean anything. If you want to humiliate someone invite Joey or Phoebe to play against us. Doug is my boss; do you realize how inappropriate that was? How awkward you would have made it for me at work?"
"You hate your work," she shot back unrepentant.
"That's not the point!" he protested, frustrated at her stubbornness. "I still have to spend 7 hours a day there, I still have to maintain a relationship with a man that has the power to make my day to day life a living hell. You must understand that?"
"I play to win, Chandler, you must understand that. You knew it before you invited me," she sounded just as annoyed and fired-up, which annoyed him further.
"I invited you because you're my girlfriend and I wanted us to have a good time together," he grated out.
"Well, you sure failed there," she sniped, shoving what was left of the rackets at him before she turned sharply and headed straight towards the exit.
"It sure looks that way," he muttered to no one, frustrated that she was mad at him. What reason did she have to be mad? It was his work-thing she'd tried to ruin; his boss she'd embarrassed; his racket she had childishly broken.
Still muttering under his breath, he followed her out into the fresh air, frowning when he noticed she was walking in the direction of their apartments.
"Where are you going?" he called, annoyance still clear in his voice. "I thought we were gonna get something to eat?"
"Suddenly, I'm not feeling very hungry," she informed him, turning back to continue her fast pace.
"Fine," he shot back, "Well maybe I am."
"Then maybe you should go eat," she shouted over her shoulder, not even bothering to turn to look at him this time.
"Fine maybe I will," he retorted lamely to her back, watching her as she continued to stalk away.
Hands on hips he clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes on her but she didn't turn around, not once. When she was out of his sight he let out a frustrated growl, lashing out by kicking an innocent trashcan. He hated when they fought, especially over something like this.
Would it really have killed her to back off and lose just this one time?
Annoyed at how crappy his day had turned out, he headed towards the food joint they had planned to visit together. He wasn't really that hungry but he was frustrated and needed some time to get him out of this funk before he headed back.
After half-heartedly picking at his sandwich for well over an hour Chandler called it quits. He took the long way home, trying to enjoy the fresh air before he reached their apartment building. He had mostly gotten over their argument, putting it into perspective. It wasn't the end of the world. He would apologize to Doug tomorrow and if they ever got invited out again he would suggest something safe like dinner. And it's not like he hadn't manage to swing it, making them lose, so his boss still liked him, even if Monica didn't.
Monica.
She was competitive; she always had been ever since he'd known her, hell, he still had the scars from that Pictionary incident. Winning was entwined in her every fibre, and her unique drive and gritty determination was one of the many things he loved about her...even if he hadn't properly said the 'L' word yet.
Glancing at his watch as he took the stairs, he realized with regret that her shift would have already started by now, so he'd have to wait until later to make up with her. He grinned a little at the thought of make up sex tonight. Sex with Monica was always unbelievably hot but he knew this would have a little something extra thrown in.
He couldn't wait.
Trying to wipe the dirty grin from his face and the dirty thoughts from his mind, he opened the apartment door to see Ross sat at the kitchen counter reading the paper.
"Hey man," Chandler greeted.
"Hey," he glanced up at him, "What's with the rackets?"
"Oh, nothing really, I thought I'd just take them for a little trip around New York, ya know show them the sights and all that."
His friend just rolled his eyes in response.
"It was a work thing," he eventually clarified, "I had to play against the boss man."
Ross pulled a face, "Ouch, you let him win, right?"
At least one of the Gellers understood the importance of that minor detail.
"Yeah, though it wasn't easy and there were great sacrifices along the way," he pulled out his tennis racket, waving it in the air as proof and he tried to forget about the other sacrifice made.
They'd make up tonight. Everything would be fine.
"Aw that sucks," Ross took the broken equipment off him, studying it, "Looks beyond repair too. This reminds me of when we were young and Monica lost the game and her temper and smashed her racket...dad was not happy," he chuckled at the memory.
Slightly panicked he snatched the racket back, "Oh, well t-thanks for the heads up. I'll be sure to be careful if I ever invite Monica to play with me...play tennis with me...I mean," he swallowed uncomfortably.
Ross shot him a confused look, his eyes narrowing but luckily the phone rang, it's piercing shrill saving Chandler from the hot seat. Ross still kept his eyes on him for another beat before finally reaching and answering it.
Chandler let out a breath, indicating to his friend he was going to dump his gear in his room.
"Yes, this is Ross Geller. What?!"
His panicked tone caused Chandler to pause, turning to him with a questioning frown.
"Is she ok? I mean- Ok, ok we'll go straight to the hospital, um, thanks for letting me know."
"Ross?" Chandler questioned concerned the second the phone was down. When he received no answer he moved closer, taking in his friend's disbelieving stare. "Ross, what's going on?"
"Monica," Ross said worried, standing up quickly.
"Monica what?" he asked, his gut clenching in fear. "Ross!" he snapped, "What's going on?"
"She, uh, she collapsed at work, hit her head hard and lost consciousness; she's on her way to the hospital."
Chandler felt himself go as pale as his friend. Monica? Hospital? But she'd been fine, absolutely fine.
"We have to go," Ross said, snapping Chandler out of his shock. "I'll go see who's across the hall and then we can grab cabs or um...yeah...I...can you leave a note for Joey? He's at an audition and-"
"Sure," Chandler swallowed, still a little dazed and confused as he watched Ross run out the door, leaving him alone.
Monica was in hospital.
Monica.
With a trembling hand he reached out for the phone pen, the pen Monica had insisted on and even installed herself. There was a little piece of string looped and sellotaped around it to ensure it couldn't escape and leave the base of the phone. He stared at it, remembering how much he'd teased her about it and how good-humored she'd been, laughing back at him, her blue eyes bright as she'd shut him up with a kiss. Which had led to another and another...
Forcing himself to focus, he hastily scribbled a note to Joey which he hoped was readable and exited into the hallway. Phoebe and Rachel were already there as Ross emerged. They were all panicked, worry evident on their faces as they rushed down the stairs. Chandler stayed at the back, following them down as a surreal numbness started to spread through him.
He couldn't deal with their fear, couldn't deal with even the hint that Monica may not make it through this.
She had to.
He remained quiet in cab, his face fixed to look out the window but he didn't take anything in. He stared at everyone going about their day to day routine, like nothing earth shattering had happened in their worlds but his eyes weren't focussed on them, they weren't focussed on anything. He was vaguely aware of Rachel watching him carefully, studying him but chose to ignore her.
At the hospital they were shown into a waiting room and told a doctor would see them soon. Still zoned out, he sat down, still quiet, still staring at the floor. He could hear the others talking around him, hear their desperation for news as they came up with hypothetical theories as to what could have happened to her but he didn't join in, didn't speak, he couldn't.
Time seemed to slow down around him and he willed with all his being for there to be news, good news.
There couldn't be any other kind of news.
She had to be fine.
Had to be.
It was Monica.
"Are you the family of Monica Geller?"
Chandler jolted, staggering to his feet with the others as he stared at the nurse, knowing she had the power to change his whole world with her next words.
"I'm her brother, is she ok?"
"It's still early days, sir," the nurse spoke softly with that fake practised sympathy and real fear started to grip him. "We know she collapsed and hit her head hard. There was some swelling, so the doctors have induced a coma like state in order to ensure there's enough oxygen getting to her brain and other major organs."
He didn't understand. She had been fine. Fine. It was just a knock on the head. Why were they talking about comas and oxygen? It made no sense. His stomach tightened, he couldn't contemplate the words. He just needed to see her, see that she was ok with his own eyes.
"Can we see her?" he asked, cutting across the others' questions.
"I'm afraid that's not possible at the time. The doctors are busy running lots of tests, but as soon as there's any news I'll be sure to update you."
She offered them another apologetic smile before leaving the stunned friends alone.
"I can't believe this is happening," Ross mumbled, collapsing into the nearest chair. "I..."
"Have you phoned your parents?" Phoebe asked, sitting closely next to him.
"Yeah," he nodded, "they'll be here as soon as they can but they're visiting friends up state."
Chandler closed his eyes, his forefingers pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to block it all out. He couldn't believe this was happening, it was all too surreal. Suddenly out of nowhere she was in hospital in a coma and her parents were rushing out urgently to be here.
Denial was no longer working; this was serious.
Real.
Taking in a shuddering breath he sat back down in his plastic hard seat, opposite the others, keeping himself slightly detached. He could feel Rachel's eyes on him again and this time he looked at her briefly. She was looking at him with obvious regret mixed in with pity and he didn't like it. Too much was going on in his head to try and analyse what it meant so he went back to staring at the bland floor beneath his shoes.
As the minutes ticked by Chandler's thoughts got darker and more frantic. She had to be ok. He didn't think he could function without her. She was his world. Even before they became involved with each other, she was the one that brightened the room. She was the one he could tease and was his favorite person. Now that they were together everything had become that much better. He already couldn't imagine being with anyone else. Monica was who he wanted to grow old with and whilst yesterday that thought would have probably scared the bejesus outta him, right now he held onto it, praying desperately he'd get that chance.
"You ok?"
He blinked, surprised to find Rachel sitting next to him.
"I've been better," he muttered.
"If you wanna talk," she offered quietly and he frowned before shaking his head.
He didn't know what she knew or thought she knew, but he knew for sure that he didn't want to talk. Talking wouldn't help. Talking wouldn't change what was happening. The thoughts in his head were spinning rapidly out of control and they scared him but at least they were contained. If he said them out loud it would make them real, too real. He wasn't ready for that.
Wordlessly he shook his head, going back to staring at the floor.
"Hey, what's going on?" Joey asked breathlessly bursting into the room.
Chandler remained silent as Phoebe filled him in. He watched as Joey grimaced, patting Ross' shoulder as his compassion-filled eyes landed on him. The secret boyfriend. Joey's eyes were filled with the same pity as Rachel's and he hated it.
"Don't worry," his roommate tried to reassure them all, "she's gonna make it, right? I mean she's a fighter."
Fighter.
The word struck a painful chord in his chest. She was a fighter. It was meant to be a good thing, a positive thing but images of their earlier heated argument pushed themselves to the front of his brain. What if their last conversation ever was a fight? A stupid fight over a stupid tennis game? He swallowed rapidly, remembering the harshly traded words. Fighter. God, what if she actually didn't make it? What if their last interaction with each other really was a fight? What if she still thought he was genuinely mad at her? Or what if she was still pissed at him? What if she was so annoyed by him she wasn't paying attention in the kitchen and that's how all this happened?
"You ok?" he blinked, looking up to find Joey the other side of him.
Silently he shook his head, not trusting his voice. He could feel Joey's concerned eyes on him, could feel Rachel's too the other side of him. He suddenly felt claustrophobic. He didn't want their support; it was all too much, too final. Feeling Rachel's hot hand on his knee, feeling it clamping down and burning his skin was too much, he couldn't take it any more.
He abruptly stood up, pacing in front of the chairs like a caged animal. He knew they were all looking at him but he didn't care. The only thing that mattered right now was Monica; was Monica pulling through; Monica forgiving him for their fight and staying with him forever and never leaving his side.
Suddenly the door opened and a tall thin doctor walked in, clipboard in hand.
"Mr Geller?"
Chandler's step faltered, his breath catching as Ross stood up, nodding, "That's me."
"Can I speak to you outside for a moment, please?"
Cold fear flooded through him. They needed to speak to the blood relative outside? He'd seen that in the movies and it was never good news. It was when they made decisions about turning off life support machines and-
"Um, you can say anything in front of them," Ross insisted as Rachel rubbed his arm.
The doctor looked them over briefly, as if assessing them.
"Please," Ross asked, "is she ok?"
The doctor eventually caved, "She seems to be responding well so far but I need to warn you it's still very early days." Chandler paid attention to his face and body language, trying to read in between the lines; he didn't look relaxed. He looked worried, grim and tired. "We have discovered part of the reason she collapsed. Her blood sugars were very low which affected..." he glanced at the others then back to Ross, "Did you know Miss Geller's pregnant?"
Chandler froze, shock and disbelief crashing through him. Pregnant? Monica was pregnant? They'd created a baby together?
"Pregnant?" he heard Ross ask in the distance. "No, I didn't, I..."
"Are you sure?" Phoebe asked surprised.
"Yes, very sure. It's quite possible she didn't know herself as the embryo is in the very early stages of development. Look, I'll be back when we get some more results," he turned to leave but Chandler's voice stopped him and everybody.
"Is the, uh, baby ok?"
"We're still doing tests," is all the doctor could offer before leaving.
"A baby? This is crazy, just crazy," Ross muttered, echoing Chandler's thoughts as he sank back into his chair, his head in his hands, "I mean she's not even dating anyone, is she?"
Chandler was aware of both Rachel and Joey staring at him, their confused eyes on him but he couldn't deal with them, couldn't deal with it any of it. It was too much. It had been too much before but now it was insane, he couldn't wrap his head any this. There was a heavy, guilty silence and he could still feel their eyes, boring a hole into him and he couldn't take it any more. Couldn't be trapped in this room.
"I'm getting some air," he announced abruptly, not waiting for any replies as he rapidly left, walking quickly through the unfamiliar cold corridors until his feet carried him through the side exit.
It wasn't until he was outside that the enormity of the situation hit him with full force. His legs giving way he grabbed onto the nearest wall, feeling the rough brick under his fingers as he gripped it as tightly as fear gripped his heart.
His face screwed up in pain, tears stinging the back of his eyes as the tortuous reality tried to sink in. She was pregnant. Monica was pregnant with his child. She was not only fighting for her life but also for their unborn baby's life and what if she lost the battle? What if he lost both of them? How was he meant to live, breathe, function knowing he'd lost his entire future?
Releasing the wall, he bent forwards, his hands braced on his knees as he tried to take some deep ragged breaths. What if Monica survived but the baby didn't? How would he be able to break the news to her? Monica had always dreamed of being a mom and now she might lose that chance because of a stupid tennis match. If he had just let her win she wouldn't have had to try so hard, push herself doubling her effort and she wouldn't have missed her meal.
Then she wouldn't have fainted, wouldn't be here.
Why was life so cruel?
Slowly, gradually, he straightened up and let out a breath. Thinking like this wasn't going to help. He had to stay strong for Monica. No matter how difficult it was, no matter how much he just wanted to run and hide away he knew he had to dig deep and find his inner strength, for her.
He had to keep believing, keep the hope alive as it was the only way to keep himself functioning and he needed to at least do that. Mindlessly he started walking, forcing his wobbly legs to move, even if it was just a small loop around the hospital grounds he didn't care. He just needed to do something, anything to get himself together.
Get himself prepared to go back in there.
Chandler stopped as he spotted a man on a nearby bench, a lit cigarette in his hand, the smoke drifting up into the air. He knew Monica wouldn't approve, really wouldn't but she wasn't with him right now, she was the reason he needed the comfort so so badly.
"Can I have one of those?" Chandler croaked as he approached him.
The man looked him over, "Sure," he handed him the packet and lighter.
He grunted his thanks, placing one between his lips and lighting it with ease. He closed his damp eyes, breathing in the toxic fumes, holding them longer than necessary in his mouth and throat before slowly releasing them with a shaky breath. He hadn't missed smoking since he'd gotten together with Monica, he hadn't needed it, he'd been so happy, so content and now...
He shook his head, desperately trying to stop that train of thought and took another drag, needing the nicotine to take the edge off some of his pain. It hurt so frickin much that he didn't know what to do. What was he meant to do?
Eventually he opened his eyes, realizing the other man was still there watching him. Embarrassed, he blinked away his tears, quickly holding the box and lighter back out to him.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"Take 'em," the guy said easily, standing up, "I'm finished here anyway, about to head for home. It's looks like you're just starting out. Good luck."
With that he left and Chandler collapsed onto the empty bench, stuffing the carton and lighter into his jacket pocket as he focused on his current cigarette. He closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, trying to calm his whirling mind; trying to forget for just a few minutes the current hell he was facing.
"Hey." He didn't bother to open his eyes as his roommate settled down beside him. "Look, I know it's a dumb question, but are you ok?"
Chandler shook his head, remaining silent.
"Did you know about the baby?" he ventured hesitantly and again Chandler just shook his head. "It's gonna be ok, Chandler."
"You don't know that," his voice was harsher than he'd intended but the last thing he wanted was to be listening to empty promises.
False hope.
"Yeah I do," he protested, causing Chandler to finally open his pain-filled eyes and look doubtfully at him. "She's Monica Geller. She's the strongest, toughest woman I certainly know; she's not going to let some little bump on the head stop her."
God he wished he could believe that.
The silence stretched between them as he smoked some more. He was grateful for Joey for not commenting on it.
"She's in there because of me," he finally admitted quietly, the guilt starting to rise up within him. She was fighting for not only her life but their baby's as well. Because of him. Would she ever forgive him? Would he ever forgive himself?
"What?" Joey asked confused. "She fainted at work. How exactly is that your fault?"
He exhaled, watching the smoke mix and dissolve into the air.
"She should have been taking it easy, relaxing. Instead we played tennis, argued and had this huge stupid fight. Our last words may be an argument. I can't-" he swallowed hard, lifting the smoke back to his mouth, inhaling hard. "This is all my damn fault and now I might lose her and-"
"You aren't going to lose her," Joey insisted, an edge to his voice. "You have to stay positive, Chandler. She's in there fighting and needs you to fight for her as well and not give up on her. Sitting here thinking like this isn't going to help anyone. Blaming yourself isn't going to change anything. She wouldn't want you to blame yourself. It was an accident, a horrible crappy accident but still just an accident. You didn't do this to her, you have to believe that."
Chandler shrugged, wishing he could believe his friends words.
"Look, I told you she's strong and she is; she's gonna fight and get through this."
"What about the baby?" Chandler asked quietly, swallowing down his emotions. "It's gotta be so tiny and weak; how the hell is it meant to fight? It's not strong enough."
"Are you kidding me?" Joey asked, "It's half Geller and half Bing, it's gonna to be fine. Not only is it going to survive but it'll crack a joke about it afterwards."
Chandler offered him a curve of a smile as he finished his cigarette, tossing it onto the ground and stomping it out. As he stared at the squished butt, he knew Joey was right about one thing -it was time to stop wallowing in self pity, he had to be strong, for both of them. He was going to be there for them both, be a good boyfriend and father and get them through this.
"She's going to make it," Joey reminded him as they stood up, slapping a hand onto his back. "They both will."
He nodded, hoping the other man was right.
"Yeah, they will," he agreed, trying to believe his own words. "Monica will be fine and keep the baby safe and in a few months we're gonna have a little family," he swallowed hard as the realization slowly dawned on him. "Can you believe I'm going to be a dad?"
"It's yours?!"
A/N - Sorry for the cliff hanger! This isn't my usual style of angst but when I had the idea I went with it. Would love to hear your thoughts :o)