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Chandler blinked in confusion before turning and squinting at his friend, "Ross?"
"You know him?" Marc asked. "Thank god, he's yours now."
Ross nodded distractedly, his attention still on his friend. Chandler really didn't look good; he looked drunk and miserable and Ross had no idea why. Was Chandler really the man that Marc was just talking about? Who the heck was he in love with? Marc must have misunderstood; surely if Chandler was feeling down about something he would have shared it with him or Joey. Wouldn't he?
Chandler always shared his hopeless love life with all the gang. Janice, Kathy, that screaming girl, the one with the large head…in college they'd been even more tragic cases but with each and every one Chandler always joked or cried over them with his friends. He liked to moan about how pathetic his love life was…it was kinda like a hobby.
Something must be going on.
"Are you ok man?" Ross finally asked with a frown.
"I-I'm just fine," he slurred a little. "Better than fine in fact…peachy. I'm just peachy."
Ross' frown deepened as he watched Chandler down what looked like scotch before calling Marc over for a top up. Chandler didn't drink scotch. What had him down so much that he'd turned to drink? That just wasn't like Chandler.
"Don't you think you've had enough?" Ross questioned quietly, putting a hand over the glass.
"No," Chandler shoved his hand away roughly before turning his attention back to the bartender, "more please."
Marc stepped forward.
"Chandler," Ross warned.
Marc paused uncertain.
"Just let the man do his job," Chandler insisted pushing his glass back towards Marc. "His job is to feed me scotch."
Ross sighed and shrugged, watching in defeat as the amber liquid was poured. Something was definitely going on with his friend, something big and he needed to find out what. Chandler had always been there for him through hard times and his failed marriage. It was now his turn to return the favor.
"So," Ross took another sip of his drink for Dutch courage, deciding to test Marc's theory, "who is she?"
His friend paused and slowly blinked, taking too long to answer. Marc must be right.
"Who?" Chandler finally asked, his gaze fixed straight ahead.
"This girl," Ross persisted quietly watching the other man closely. He looked guilty, still not meeting Ross' eyes. He was definitely on the right track. "Chandler, who is it that you can't talk to us about her? Talk to me about her?"
Chandler stayed silent, staring down at the drink in his hands. He swished the scotch around in small circles watching as it crashed against the imprisoned ice cubes. He was feeling drunk now and wished that Ross would just disappear so he could succumb to the effects and just forget everything. That was the whole point in coming here. The only thing he wanted – to forget.
"Hey, come on man, you can tell me anything," Ross continued.
He couldn't tell Ross about this, no way. Nuh uh. He shook his head slightly, wincing at the pain it caused. He wasn't talking; no good could possibly come from talking.
"Not this," he sighed, wishing he could get his friend to understand and just leave him alone. "I can't tell you this."
"Chandler, it's me." Ross placed a hand on his arm.
"I know," he still avoided his friend's eyes, "which is exactly why I can say anything. You'll hate me so just leave it. Just leave in fact. Just go."
Ross' frown deepened.
"What's that supposed to mean? Why would I hate you?" he asked ignoring his request to leave, there was no way that was going to happen.
Chandler shrugged hopelessly, not speaking. Ross resisted the urge to sigh heavily.
"Chandler," he shook his arm slightly, forcing him to look up, "tell me what's going on."
"Nothing's going on, Ross," he finally slurred quietly. "Nothing new, ok? My life sucks and I'm gonna die all alone and miserable. Same old. Same old. Blah blah blah," he waved dismissively.
"Talk to me," Ross insisted, getting frustrated at the lack of progress he was making. Why was Chandler being so stubborn? Even, if for whatever reason he didn't want to tell everyone else, why wouldn't he at least tell Ross? He was his best friend.
"I can't," Chandler suddenly burst out loudly, just as frustrated. "I came here to be miserable so none of you would see. You weren't meant to come here and join me, so don't expect me to open up and talk to you. I don't want to talk – I just wanna drink and forget everything, so please just leave me alone."
Ross sighed as he watched Chandler signal for another drink and wondered how much the man had consumed. Maybe this was a good thing...maybe a bit more alcohol would loosen Chandler up enough to finally talk. Ross was starting to get very worried about him and needed to get him to open up before he passed out and then denied it all in the morning.
"It's close to Carol's," Ross tried a different tactic to calm the situation.
"Huh?" Chandler blinked confused, his mind very fuzzy now and unable to keep up with the sudden change of topic.
"This place," Ross confirmed, "it's just round the corner from Carol and Susan's. I discovered it one of the first times I had to drop Ben off. I was a little down and came in for a drink. I liked the place and Marc's always good to chat to," he shrugged. "So, I usually drop in for a quiet drink after saying good bye to Ben, it helps a little."
"Oh."
They sat in silence a moment.
"I've never mentioned it before 'cause it's like my solace," Ross continued quietly. "A little place that I can come that the rest of you don't know about. I can reflect on my time with Ben before I come over to Central Perk."
Chandler nodded slightly, understanding but not really caring. He had too many problems of his own right now and far too much to drink to even try and contemplate comforting Ross.
The atmosphere was no longer tense though and a quietness settled between them. Ross gestured to Marc and ordered himself a soft drink. He had a feeling one of them needed to remain sober tonight…and that wasn't going to be Chandler.
They stayed in silence for several minutes as Ross covertly studied his friend. Chandler was swaying slightly on his stool, still holding onto his glass. Ross had seen Chandler drunk a zillion times and knew he was getting close to full out hammered.
"Is it anybody I know?" Ross asked curiously, trying to keep the calm atmosphere.
Chandler closed his eyes. His head was going from fuzzy to painful. Thoughts of Monica were spinning around his confused mind mocking him. The alcohol wasn't helping to numb his pain. It still hurt. If anything it was worse. What was the point?
"Monica."
Ross blinked, surprised by the croaked name.
"What?" he asked confused.
"Monica," Chandler repeated her name miserably, no longer caring. "She's the girl I'm in love with." He leant his arms against the counter and rested his head on them, eyes closed. Keeping it inside hadn't worked and now telling people hadn't helped either. He felt like crap and just wanted to go home to bed. He wanted to sleep and prayed that he'd drunk enough to pass out and have one night where she didn't haunt his dreams.
"Wow," Ross was still processing this revelation. Chandler liked Monica? Monica? Sure, they'd always been close friends but he'd never even suspected that Chandler wanted more. "I uh wasn't expecting that," he admitted.
"It doesn't matter," Chandler mumbled tiredly. "It's not going to happen."
"Chandler-"
"Home," he muttered. "I need home."
He stood up quickly and almost fell, Ross quick to steady him.
"Okay," Ross agreed. At least now he knew what was going on and he could get more information out of him tomorrow…when he was sober. Determined, he grabbed their coats and balanced Chandler up against a pillar as he quickly settled both tabs.
"You gonna be ok with him?" Marc asked quietly.
"Sure," Ross offered a small smile, "thanks for looking out for him."
"Let me know how it goes," Marc nodded as the two men left his bar.
The normal ten minute walk took thirty as Ross tried to steer a wasted Chandler home. By the time they reached his building Chandler was dead on his feet, his arm over Ross' shoulders as the paleontologist carried most of his weight. He was practically out of it, barely managing to drag one foot in front of the other.
"Hey buddy," Ross panted, propping Chandler up against the front wall of the apartment building, "we're almost there."
Keeping one hand on Chandler's chest to ensure he didn't fall flat on his face, Ross dug around for his keys; locating them he gained entrance to the building. Now he just had to work out how to wedge the door open and get Chandler inside and up the stairs. Huh.
"Hey Ross," Monica's voice came from behind them startling her brother. "What's going on?"
TBC…
Sorry it's a short one- it just seemed a natural place to cut it. The next chapter will def be longer. Let me know what you thoughts.
