Mockingbird

Chapter 2: July 2005

~.~

Thanks for the reviews! I do imagine this is how Rachel's life would turn out…Chandler, on the other hand…well, this goes slightly AU with Mondler, because I imagine Mondler would turn out happy, and, well, they obviously aren't in this.

Also, I have a Randler fic in the works that is slightly less serious than this one. Once I'm a bit happier with the first chapter, I'll start posting it. Just so ya know :)

~.~

"How'd the interview go?" Chandler asked Rachel as she walked through the front door of his house, closing it behind her.

Rachel shrugged, tired of wasting her time with interview after interview for jobs she knew she had no intention of taking. "I am entirely overqualified and we both know it," she sighed, walking into the kitchen, where he was standing.

"How are you?" he then asked as Rachel set her purse down on the kitchen counter. Rachel paused momentarily, the sincerity behind the question cutting through her in a way she hadn't experienced in quite some time, the same way his soft voice cut through the otherwise silent house.

"Oh," Rachel attempted to bush off the question, nonchalantly blowing her bangs out of her face as she spoke. "You know."

"Yea," Chandler nodded, his tone not changing, knowing the exact restless, unhappy feeling she felt to her core at that moment. "I do know."

Rachel sighed at that as Emma came running into the room, glad for the sudden interruption. "Mommy!" the three-year-old exclaimed, bracing onto her mother's legs.

"Hey, Ems, have fun with Uncle Chandler?" Rachel asked, leaning down to pick up the little girl.

"Uh-huh," Emma nodded fiercely, giving her a kiss before squirming to get down. "We threwed food!"

"You what?" Rachel laughed, letting her wiggle her way down to the ground and over to Chandler.

"Emma, what did we say about that?" Chandler laughed, picking her up as she reached her arms up to him.

"That it's a secret!" she whispered loudly, and Chandler again laughed, the concept of a secret obviously lost on the three-year-old.

"Okay, but you really can't tell Aunt Monica, okay?" he looked down at Emma. "Or else she's not gonna let you come hang out with me anymore."

"Kay!" Emma nodded fiercely, and Chandler kissed her forehead before setting her down, watching as she ran out of the room.

Rachel watched the two, her heart aching for Chandler. When he looked up, he caught her eye, attempting to force a smile.

"You deserve to be a dad." It slipped out. She had been thinking it, but not intending on saying it.

"Well, I think so," Chandler shrugged, attempting a joke, but his tone failing at that, voice quivering slightly.

Rachel looked down at the ground, not sure what to say, what to ask. Monica had shut her out for some time now, ever since they had lost the twins, ever since she had decided not to go to Paris, and it was killing her. She could only imagine if Monica was doing the same to Chandler. Because he lost the babies, too.

"Have you guys…talked about it?" Rachel finally offered softly, knowing he probably needed to talk about it, knowing how much he missed Joey since he moved to California, and that Ross had been around about as much as Monica had been lately.

Not that Ross was the best person to talk to without being judged, anyway.

Chandler shook his head slowly, staring down at the kitchen counter. He took a deep breath, blowing it out just as slowly, trying to hold back the tears that that question evoked. "No," he finally replied quietly. "Not for lack of trying on my part," he finally added, a slight bite to his words. "It's not like Monica's ever home to talk to. She's always working. Or driving to and from work. Just not…here…."

Rachel let out a sardonic laugh at that, only because she understood. "Tell me about it."

Chandler took a deep breath, not sure what else to say. He looked down at the ground, arms crossed, leaning heavily back against the counter. "We were making spaghetti."

"What?" Rachel looked at him, confused by the change in topic.

"Emma and I," he explained, looking up at her. "We were making spaghetti. And, I have no idea who told me it, but someone once told me that if you throw the noodles, and they stick, you know that they're done," he continued, and Rachel smiled at that. "She got a kick out of throwing the noodles against the wall to see if they were done."

Rachel smiled sincerely; he really did deserve to be a father.

"How are you?" she repeated his earlier question back to him.

His face fell even more, and it suddenly struck her how much older he looked than he had only a year earlier. The laugh lines around his eyes seemed to be more of worry lines, the lines in his forehead somehow deeper. He always used to be smiling, joking. Now, even if he wasn't happy, he didn't even attempt to make it appear that he was.

"Existing," he finally answered truthfully, and Rachel nodded in agreement.

"Me, too," she breathed out slowly. "Hey, um, do you want to come have dinner with me and Emma tomorrow? I mean, if we're both just existing right now, we'd might as well exist together…." She couldn't imagine having to be home by herself the majority of nights feeling this feeling like he was having to do, the few nights that Ross had class being bad enough.

Chandler nodded, offering a thankful smile. "That would be nice," he smiled sincerely, grateful for having someone so understanding at that moment. Someone who could understand the constricting, suffocating loneliness and emptiness found in simply existing.

Really, though, the truly heartbreaking thing about that to him was that he was having to feel that feeling with Monica, something he had never in his life imagined would happen.